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arcsimper5 · 6 months

Note

Hehe, the first kiss prompts are irresistible! 😂💙 I’ve got a request, if you find it inspiring, and if not, feel free to ignore!

How about hands on the cheeks… with whomever you are most feelin? 🥹 Just that deliciously satisfying yearning finally coming to fruition? 🙈

Fun to read if you choose to write it! 💙

AHHHH I'm so sorry it took me so long to answer this, I've been so caught up in work and writing other stuff but AHHH I FINALLY DID IT!

I went with Hunter, because it just seemed right to me, I hope you like it!

Word count: 2626 Pairing: Hunter x Reader (no name) Rating: M (blood, minor injury, peril, darkness, lots of angst, pining, premature mourning) Please let me know if I missed anything! And thank you so much for the prompt!

“Look out!”

Hunter’s warning came too late for you to respond, the ground beneath you trembling with the force of the cave-in rapidly gaining on your position.

Damn Cid, you thought to yourself, panting for breath as you sprinted forward, Omega by your side, damn her and her stupid missions. The cache she’d bought the location for had been empty, and you’d already known this mission was going to be a disaster when the rain started pouring the moment you touched down.

Now, the rocks that made up the old cave system had finally buckled with the movement of the ground thanks to the water above, beginning with small creaks and groans, quickly turning into certain death, the rocks crashing behind you creating splintering crevasses in the ground.

You first felt your foot slip as the ground opened up beneath you, Omega’s shrill shriek ringing in your ears as the sensation of falling overtook you.

It wasn’t even a conscious thought as you reached for Omega, using all of your strength to grab ahold of her jacket and throw her away from the rapidly growing hole in the ground, her eyes wide as Wrecker caught her midair and turned to run, your footing failing you.

As Omega screamed your name helplessly, Hunter turned, watching in horror as your eyes met seconds before you slipped out of view, consumed by complete and utter darkness.

Rocks and dirt crashed around you, one last deep breath taken as you landed with a sickening crunch onto hard ground, eyes closing as you waited for the end.

The groaning of rock on rock above you made you flinch, like nails on chalkboard, screaming in your ears while tiny streams of dirt and pebbles pelted your face.

Raising your hand in defense, an utterly useless motion against tonnes of rock, you chastised yourself internally, you waited. And waited.

The noise of the collapse faded, the steady flow of dirt and rocks dying out as the world around you settled, no longer tickling your face.

Daring to open your eyes, you found the exercise useless; pure, pitch black surrounded you, blinding you to your surroundings.

Swallowing hard, you dared to move a little, breath hitching as a few rocks fell from the gaps in your armour onto the floor below.

Feeling around, your hands came to rest on a large slab of rock above you, tracing the jagged edges to the sides of the crevasse; it had been caught mere feet above you by sheer luck, your lungs burning as you inhaled a shuddering breath, barely holding back manic laughter.

You’d survived the fall, and narrowly avoided being crushed by the falling rocks, but now you were faced with another problem; escaping your new prison.

Slowing your breathing, your thoughts drifted to Hunter, Omega and the others, tears burning in your eyes.

They were safe. They’d made it out. But Hunter’s scream of your name when he’d seen you fall, the expression in his eyes as he’d watched helplessly… it only added to the regret building inside you.

You should have told him. You should have been honest. You should have admitted you loved him months ago, when you figured it out yourself, a night you’d spent watching stars with him on top of the Marauder, your head laid on his chest as meteors scorched through the inky blackness overhead.

His warmth had radiated through every inch of your body, sending pleasant shivers through you as his hands ran up and down your arms, trying to warm you even more.

You’d come so close to kissing him then, your eyes locked with each others, flickering down to his lips and his to yours, a question in his gaze you wanted so badly to answer.

But as you were about to meet, eyes fluttering closed, preparing to brush your lips together, you jolted apart at Wrecker’s shout as he came out to relieve Hunter of watch, clambering up onto the roof with you and joining in your star watching.

And now… Now you might never get the chance.

The thought awoke something in you, some deep determination you didn’t even realise you possessed.

You were not going to die like this. You were going to find a way out, back to your friends, you family. And you were going to tell Hunter how you felt.

As you nodded to yourself, a soft sound floated through the darkness, the loss of your vision enhancing your other senses to an almost painful degree. Holding your breath, you tilted your head slightly, hope flaring in your heart; it was water… Running water!

If you could find your way to it, there may be an exit to the outside.

With one last firm nod, you steeled yourself, drawing a deep, shuddering breath as you scrambled to your feet and began feeling your way along the walls of the cave, following the sound.

*-*-*

“You must calm down, Hunter,” Tech ordered sternly as he watched Wrecker lift their brother away from the bloodied rocks that blocked what was once the entrance to the cave they had just escaped from, the sergeant’s limbs flailing wildly as he fought against the grip holding him, tears streaming down his face.

“No, no! I need… we need to get her, to get her out!”

Wrecker’s expression was one of pure anguish as he sat Hunter down on a rock next to Omega the young girl’s legs pulled up to her chest, her body rocking as she cried silent tears of her own.

“Your current emotional state is of no use to anyone,” Tech informed him flatly, bending down as Wrecker stepped away, his hands held out as if trying to placate Hunter, like he might bolt back to the rocks at any moment, “we need to think about this clearly and rationally.”

Hunter shook his head, hands trembling as Tech tutted, grabbing his medkit from one of the pouches on his belt and examining his brother’s tattered fingers, the nails broken and ragged from clawing desperately at the rocks, small red rivulets dropping onto the floor below.

“I should, should have been there,” Hunter gasped, wincing as Tech sprayed his wounds with disinfectant, quickly adding bacta and beginning to wrap his fingers one by one, “I should… should have stayed close. She… she’s…”

Wrecker’s breath hitched as he collapsed on the rock Omega was sat on, shaking his head.

“Don’t say it, Hunter,” he pleaded, opening his arm to his sister as she let out a sob, crawling into his lap seeking comfort, “please… don’t…”

“It’s my fault,” Omega sniffed wetly from his arms, every breath hitching as she cried into his chest, “if I hadn’t fallen, if she hadn’t come back for me…”

Behind them, Echo crested the small hill, coming back into view from his trip to the Marauder, a seismic scanner hung around his neck by a frayed canvas strap. He paused as he heard Omega’s sobbing, taking in the sight of his brothers, his jaw clenching.

“Hey, what’s with the tears?” he called sternly, moving to stand in front of them as Tech finished with Hunter’s bandages, the sergeant staring at the ground in despair. “I thought we were getting ready for a rescue?”

“She’s gone,” Hunter croaked, his tone utterly broken, “I… I can’t hear her. Can’t… can’t feel her heartbeat…”

He’d been straining himself since the moment he’d lost sight of her, the fear in her eyes scorched forever into his memory. The settling earth murmured beneath them, the clouds above swelled and flowed across the sky, the sound of a small river a few kilometres away drifted through the air, but that was it.

Every one of the Batch’s heartbeats rang in his ears, but not hers.

Echo frowned at him, waving the seismic scanner in annoyance.

“Why do you think I’ve got this?” he questioned, frustrated as he moved towards Omega, crouching down in front of her. “The rock is too thick for Hunter to hear through. She might have fallen in deep, but she’s tough, like us. We’ll find her using this, and we’ll get her out, yeah?”

Tech frowned, rolling his eyes at his brother.

“The likelihood of her having survived a fall and the subsequent rockslide, along with the risks presented by exposure and dehydration make her chances of survival…”

“Enough,” Echo snapped back at the engineer, snarling as tears conftinued to drip onto the dusty ground at Hunter’s feet, the cyborg letting out a sigh. “We’ve survived worse odds than this. We’ve been through the ringer, and we’re all still here. We’re not giving up, you hear? We’ll get her back.”

Omega nodded, sniffing away her tears and wiping furiously at her face, steeling her expression as met Echo’s gaze, nodding to the seismic scanner.

“I want to help,” she croaked, “tell me how.”

Echo smiled weakly at her, his own emotions welling in his chest. He knew the chances were slim, but so were his chances of survival the Citadel. And yet here he was.

“Atta girl,” he smiled, jerking his head back as he looked at Wrecker. “Tech will come with me. Wreck, stay with Hunter. Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

“Gotcha,” Wrecker managed, forcing a smile as he let Omega down from his lap, clapping a large hand on her shoulder in comfort. “Echo’s right, kid. We’ll find her, ‘kay?”

“‘Kay,” Omega replied with a weak smile, fighting back more tears as she latched herself to Echo’s side, the cyborg ignoring the pointed look from Tech as they moved towards the cave entrance, firing up the scanner.

Hunter remained silent as Wrecker came to sat next to him, unsure of what to do. He’d never seen Hunter in a state like this, almost catatonic.

“Ya… ya doin’ okay, Hunter?” he prompted carefully, frowning when his brother huffed in annoyance. “Look, I know it looks bad, but Echo’s right! We’ve been through a lot. She’s tough. If anyone could survive…”

“I should have told her,” Hunter interrupted him, Wrecker drawing back a little to look over Hunter, confused by the statement.

“Uh… Told her what?”

“How I felt,” Hunter breathed, closing his eyes tightly, more fat tears falling into the dirt, staining the earth with his grief. “I… I had so many chances… and I… I couldn’t. She deserves better than a clone. Better than me. I let her down. I’ve done it again, let her fall…”

When he finally looked up, meeting Wrecker’s gaze, there was an utterly broken look in his eyes, one that caused Wrecker’s throat to tighten uncomfortably.

“I love her, Wreck… I love her, and I… I didn’t… I’ll never get to tell her. I… I’m so stupid…”

Falling back into silence, Hunter looked up to the sky, drawing in deep shuddering breaths.

“Ya can’t blame yourself, Hunter,” Wrecker tried desperate, laying a hand on his brother’s shoulder, “she knew what she was doing. She saved ‘Mega.”

“And I should have been there,” Hunter hissed through gritted teeth, anger growing from his sadness, “I should have…”

A sudden splashing sound caught his attention, distant, but clear.

Wrecker began to speak again, but quickly fell silent as Hunter shushed him, standing up and closing his eyes, listening intently.

Tech, Echo and Omega were still at the cave entrance, conversing lowly, the soft hum of the seismic sensor fading into the background as he focused on the faint sound in the distance, the sound echoing over the sand covered hills.

The splashing sounded again, this time accompanied by a gasp and a cough, spluttering and more deep breaths, a faint heartbeat vibrating through the air.

Hunter didn’t even speak, he simply opened his eyes and ran, ignoring Wrecker’s shout after him. He heard Echo, Tech and Omega call as well, their footsteps quickly joining to pursue him, but it didn’t matter.

Not when he could feel that familiar thumping, not when he could hear the clacking of plastoid.

He didn’t know how far he ran, nor did he care about the way his lungs burned with the effort, his legs trembling by the time he crested the hill just above where the sound was coming from, soft words beginning to float through the air, unmistakable.

“Havoc 1, come in? Havoc 2? Echo? Anyone?”

With one last push, he made it to the ridge, his knees giving out as he caught sight of her, the familiar outline, scent and voice overwhelming him.

*-*-*

A gasp of your name behind you made you jump as you pocketed your drenched comm, tutting in annoyance as water ran out of it, the electronics completely fried.

Wondering if you’d imagined it, you turned quickly, you breath hitching in your throat as you saw Hunter kneeled in the sand, his eyes wide, tears rolling down his cheeks as he panted for breath. He had obviously been sprinting, beads of sweat trailing down his forehead, his hair mussed, bandana askew.

“Hunter,” you breathed, the relief in your voice palpable. Scrambling towards him through the ankle deep water, you ignored the sting of the cuts and bruises that littered your body.

The escape from the cave system had been terrifying, being swept down an unground rapid system after wading through the river for some time, clutching at the walls in total darkness. And yet, you’d made it out, battered and beaten, but alive.

As Hunter called your name again, his voice broken with emotion, you scrambled up the bank, tears beginning to spill down your own cheeks as you got closer, his hands reaching out to you, as if he wasn’t sure if what he was seeing was real.

Within moments, you were out of the water, your clothes and hair still sopping wet, body trembling with adrenaline and cold, mere steps from him when he grabbed out for you, pulling you to your knees in front of him. A sob left his chest as he pressed his forehead to yours, uncaring of the water that still dripped from every inch of you, his hands coming up to cup your face, thumbs resting on your cheekbones.

“C-Cyare,” he choked, closing his eyes, breathing you in, “I’m so, I’m so kriffing sorry. I should have been there, I should have been with you…”

“Hunter, don’t,” you pleaded thickly, leaning into his embrace, pure relief rushing through every fibre of your being. “I did what I had to, I needed to get Omega out, I…”

Your words were cut off as he tilted his head back, his lips finding yours, crashing your mouths together with a passion that caught you off guard. You whimpered into his mouth as he clutched at you, fingertips digging into your jaw, holding you so tightly it might bruise, like if he let go you might float away.

Moaning as he slid his tongue over your bottom lip, he took full advantage, tilting his head to the side to deepen the kiss, your own hands moving to cord through his hair, remaining tangled in the thick, sweat soaked curls even as you parted, both panting for breath.

“Should have done that months ago,” he whispered, his lips brushing yours with every word, his eyes focusing on yours, warm swirling pools of molten chocolate causing a swirling deep in your gut, “I should never have waited. I… I love you, cyare… Forgive me?”

As the roar of the Marauder’s engines drifted through the air, the ship growing closer with every passing moment, you simply sighed as you pecked his lips again, tears of joy painting your cheeks.

“There’s nothing to forgive, Hunter,” you reassured him, pressing your foreheads together once more, a shiver running through you both. “And I love you too.”

#star wars #the bad batch #tbb #star wars the clone wars #tbb hunter x reader #hunter x reader #tcw #clone wars #sergeant hunter x reader #tbb fanfic #first kiss prompt #for freesia-writes #DaniWrites

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messedupfan · 6 months

Text

Chapter 6

Summary: Vision attempts to make a threat to Y/n. Tommy and Billy start a new activity. And Y/n is debating on exploring a romantic relationship but is worried about the consequences.

A/N: HELLLOOO!!! I've FINALLY been able to finish writing a chapter. So sorry it took so long! Hope y'all are well. Lemme know what you think! Enjoy!

Masterlist | All Chapters | All Stories Taglist

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On Sunday afternoon, Wanda is anxiously waiting for her kids to arrive. To avoid a messy situation with Vision, she sends Pietro out to pick up food from a place an hour away that her boys really love to eat from. You continue to work as she paces around the house. Adjusting decorations here and there, fussing over every little thing since Luna is sitting at the kitchen table being entertained by her tablet. A rare moment that Wanda actually wishes that her niece was being a distraction.

As it gets closer to the time they're meant to be dropped off, Wanda begins to work herself up. Ranting to herself she gets angrier and angrier by the second. Saying that he's the reason their marriage fell apart. That he's the one that left her for a child. That she shouldn’t be worried about how he's going to act after what happened last Sunday since it was his unacceptable behavior that caused the incident in the first place.

“Wanda,” you call out firmly to stop her on her tracks. She looks at you with a glare that's meant for her ex and you smile at her. Despite how terrifying that glare is. “Can you help me hammer some nails in? Put some of that energy into good use.” You hold the handle of the hammer out to her.

“Sure, uh,” Wanda blinks a couple of times to clear her head. “What do you want me to do?” She takes the hammer.

You set up two pieces of wood that don't really need to have nails in them but figure since they're useless to you they can be useful in this moment. “Just imagine these nails are your ex-husband.” You lay some nails out on the table next to the piece of wood.

Wanda walks over and stands in front of you. Her anger blinds her from all that she was taught as a young girl and she raises the hammer a little too high for your liking. You grab her wrist, wrapping your body around her from behind, to stop her as she starts to bring it down. “What?” She snaps.

“Last I checked, you need your thumb. Go at it slowly at first. You want to get the nail sturdy before you go crazy on it so that you don't lose your fingers,” you explain yourself and demonstrate the pace she should start with by guiding her hand that is holding the hammer. “See? He's already taken your sanity, he doesn't deserve your fingers,” you say jokingly and it makes Wanda laugh a little.

“Aw isn't this sweet,” Vision says as he hands Tommy and Billy their duffle bags. You step away from Wanda and clear your throat because you're not sure how that might've looked to Vision. More so what it looked like to the boys.

Wanda hits the hammer hard causing the nail to split the wood and she drops the hammer on the table. “Vision, you're late.”

“Well, I figured since my time got eaten into last week, you wouldn't mind if I took some of yours in exchange. Besides, I was getting the boys new gear.” Vision explains as he steps closer. “By the looks of it, I probably should have come a little later. I do apologize for interrupting, but please. Not in front of the children.”

Wanda rolls her eyes, “Whatever you're thinking was happening, it wasn't.” She smiles for her kids and gets to their level. “What gear did you boys need?”

The twins show their mom what Vision got for them as they excitedly open the duffles to reveal all of the new martial arts gear that their dad got for them. “You should be getting an email of their schedule soon. They start this week,” Vision explains. Then he walks over to you as Wanda gives her full attention to the boys as they unpack their bags. “My boys wouldn’t stop talking about you and your daughter all week. I hope that we can come to an understanding that nothing complicated happens between you and their mother. I’d hate for them to lose a friend,” he says in a low tone and your eyebrows crease in confusion.

“Vision,” you start awkwardly, not really used to saying his name. “I’m only here as a favor to Pietro. There is nothing romantic happening between Wanda and I.”

Vision tips his head to the side and pulls his phone out, “That’s not what it looked like the other night.” On his screen is an image of you and Wanda smiling at the restaurant. Other than being creeped out that he somehow acquired this picture, you can’t help but be impressed by the quality of the image.

“Hey that’s pretty good,” you pull out your phone, “if I give you my number do you think you could send me that? I don’t normally photograph this well.” Vision is thrown off by your response and he isn’t sure how to continue this conversation. He was expecting you to ask how he got the picture and then he was going to say that he has eyes everywhere in a threatening tone and you were supposed to be afraid of him. Not requesting him to send you the picture. He planned this all out the moment he got the picture. Vision is offended that you have gone so far off of the mental script he had. “Oh you know what, send it to Wanda. She has my number.” Vision steps back and clenches his jaw. There’s no way his ex can know that he has the photo. “That isn’t a problem. Is it?”

“No, no, it's uh, there’s no problem.” Vision puts his phone into his pocket and clears his throat. “That seemed more than friendly,” he states, trying to gain some sort of control in the conversation. You shrug.

“I’m sure it does. I mean, a picture can be worth a thousand words and all that but those words depend on the person who is seeing it. When I look at it, I remember the situation that the two of us were laughing about. You see a romantic date. I'm sure whoever took the picture thought it was worth sending to you for the same reason.” Vision's face starts to turn red and you aren't certain from what but you continue. “I can tell you the truth all I want but you have your picture and an idea of what's happening there. It doesn't matter what I tell you.”

“Is everything alright over here?” Wanda asks as she approaches. The boys are running up the stairs behind her so they can put away their new gear in their room.

Vision smiles and pats you on the back, “Everything is perfectly splendid. I was apologizing to your friend here about the scene I may have caused last weekend. I was highly emotional. Virginia and I are expecting a girl and well,” he doesn't continue after the dark expression that passes over his ex's features. Vision clears his throat and steps away from you. “I will see you next Sunday, Wanda.” He walks out the front door.

You watch Wanda and can tell she is struggling with something internally. You want to ask her the significance of what Vision just said but you don't want to pry. “When do you think Pietro will get back?” You ask in order to snap Wanda out of whatever was starting to eat her up.

“Um… um… I'm not sure,” she is fighting to come back to the present. She doesn't want to live in the past anymore. She doesn't want to fall into herself again about something that wasn't meant to be. She has her boys. They are enough, she doesn’t need more than them.

“The twins seem excited about martial arts,” you say conversationally, trying to help her leave her head. “I think I'll be back here fixing holes in the walls in no time.”

“Why’s that?” She asks as she tries to stay grounded to the conversation.

“Well you never know, they might become super ninjas and start punching holes in the walls,” you make funny motions and noises to get a reaction out of her and Wanda does smile a little.“Then they might start karate chopping your tables and well,” you make the chopping motion with your hand and Wanda lets out a laugh at the image. “Sure, you can call your brother to fix those things but come on. Once this addition is done, you know you'll look for any excuse to get me back in here.”

“Oh is that so?” She challenges with a smirk.

“Oh yeah,” you wink playfully. “You’re going to miss me taking forever to get the job done.” Wanda shakes her head and takes a deep breath as she is finally free from her head.

“Thank you,” she says as she reaches for your hand to give you a soft squeeze.

“Anytime,” you squeeze back. When the front door opens the both of you quickly pull away. As if you'll be caught doing something wrong again. Pietro comes in with bags of food and calls for his nephews to wash their hands and come down stairs. You follow Wanda to the kitchen and stand by her as she washes her hands in the sink as you wait for your turn. Once your hands are clean, you help her set the table despite her insisting that you didn't have to.

Because you don't have Rachel with you, you stay to work a little bit longer than last time because you hate how empty your apartment is when she isn't there. “As much as I appreciate your dedication,” Wanda starts as she crosses the duct tape line to hand you a water bottle. “I think you should head home. Besides, I need to get these kids to bed and loud saws and drills don't really help with that.”

You check your watch and your eyes widen at the time, “Oh wow, I'm sorry. I didn't realize. Let me pack up and I'll be out of your hair.”

“It’s okay, really,” Wanda says as you pack your equipment that you'll need for work tomorrow. “You got so focused I almost didn't want to stop you,” she admits.

You didn't really hear her as you weren't very graceful in packaging, you keep dropping things and making way more noise than normal. “Thank you for letting me stay after Pietro left. I'll see you next weekend?” You ask as you're stumbling towards the door with your gear.

“Would you like to see me sooner than that?” Wanda asks as she holds the door open.

You nearly lose your grip on your bags when she asks. A wave of nervousness comes over you and you aren't quite sure why. You know she isn't interested in dating… wait. No you don't. You think she isn't but she hasn't ever blatantly told you that. “Um sure, if you and the boys have a free day, I think I can convince the ex-mrs to come out with Rach,” you offer.

Wanda shrugs with an odd expression, “Yeah, we could do something like that.”

“Alright then,” you respond awkwardly, “I’ll uh get in touch with you sometime this week.”

“Okay,” Wanda nods once. “I’ll see you later.” She shuts the door once you're at your truck.

When you get home, you're surprised that you're not ready to fall into bed and crash for the night. You check the time again and figure that it couldn't hurt to give Phil a visit. So you grab your coat, wallet, and keys and make your way to The Hub. Walking in, there isn't much life around and you notice that there isn't anyone behind the bar but you take a seat on one of the stools anyway and wait for someone to appear. Hoping that your old boss is still around so that this visit isn’t for nothing. The wait for someone to come out from the back is longer than you anticipated it would be. You know that when you worked here, no one would have gotten away with this. That is until she is standing in front of you. She’s not who you came here to see but she’s someone that you've been debating on seeing more of.

“You know that I gave you my number so that you could call me, right?” Daisy says as she grabs a glass to clean.

“I like to talk face to face,” you shrug, “I guess I'm old fashioned that way.”

“So you did come here for me,” she returns the glass to its spot under the bar and leans on the counter. “Two days isn't too bad. I've waited by the phone longer and for much less.”

You laugh, “Daisy, I can't date you without talking about it with your dad first.”

She scoffs and steps back, “I’m not a child, I don't need his permission. I don't see why you do?”

“Come on, I respect your dad. He helped me through a rough time. I wouldn't feel right asking you out without his blessing.” You explain and look around the bar.

“Wow, you are old fashioned,” Daisy mutters.

“Is he here?” You ask as you tap your fingers against the counter.

“No, he went home after posting the schedules for the week,” she explains. She looks around the establishment to scan the customers before landing her eyes back on you. “Is that really why you came here?” She asks, a little shy. The girl was being bold in giving you her number but she wasn't expecting you to use it or actually be interested in her. The fact that you might've come here to get permission to ask her out has her mind spinning.

“Might be,” you respond, unsure yourself about why you came here. Maybe a part of you does want to explore something with Daisy. “But he's not here so I should go home.”

“Or you can stay and we can chat like we used to,” she leans against the surface between the two of you again as you’re reminded of when the positions were reversed and you were on the other side of the bar. You were around the age she is now. Maybe a little older. On slow nights she was allowed to sit and do her homework at the bar. Especially when she was grounded. Whenever she was going through something tough during her senior year in high school you would talk to her and give the best advice that you could. The reminder of how young she was when you first got to know her makes the idea of dating her uncomfortable to you. However, as you look at her now, you don't see her as a child as you once did. She looks more mature and as she had pointed out, she is an adult now. Would it be so wrong to explore something with her? She is only five years younger than you.

“Still having boy troubles in school?” You ask with a teasing expression.

Daisy scoffs with a shake of her head. She crosses her arms over her chest and leans back. “First of all, I never had boy troubles in school.”

“Right, it was girl troubles,” you quip with a grin.

“I think I'm going to take back that offer,” Daisy mutters as she tries to hide her growing smile.

You shrug, “If that's what you want to do. By all means. A person is allowed to change their mind.”

“Ugh, you're no fun. You're not going to let me know how you feel at all before you talk to my dad?” She steps forward and grabs another glass to clean with a rag in order to keep her hands busy.

“Oh, were you trying to bait me?” you laugh a little to yourself. “Daisy,” you start.

“I like the way you say my name,” she interrupts.

You shake your head a little bit and don't pay further attention to her comment. “Daisy, no matter how a person feels about you. Never let them use those feelings as a weapon to manipulate you into staying with them. If you want out, you're allowed to have an exit. You're allowed to change your mind about a person.”

Daisy nods as she accepts your advice that she didn't know she needed. “Don’t bite my head off for this question. But is that something you learned from your divorce?”

You sigh as you consider how to answer that. “Maybe,” you look at your hands with a frown, “I’m not proud of myself but I… Well, one day Jean admitted to me that she had fallen out of love with me and I convinced her to stay married to me in the hopes that she would feel that love for me again some day. Give me a chance to save our marriage.” You sigh as you remember that time in your life that you don't think about anymore. “It was the most miserable year of our lives.”

“Wow,” Daisy has moved on from cleaning glasses to wiping down the counter. “Is that why she's married now and you're not? Because she stopped being in love with you but you didn't with her?”

You are a little thrown off by the deeply personal questioning but you're not against answering. Even when she apologizes and tells you not to answer. “No, it's okay to be curious. I think that even the people that knew us from the beginning have that same assumption. But no, that's not why I'm still single. I held onto that marriage a year longer than I should've only because I didn't want to admit that I had also fallen out of love with her. Especially since I had dreamt of marrying her since we were in the third grade.” You look Daisy in the eyes as you continue. “I couldn't let go of the fairytale.”

Daisy nods as she falls deep in thought, “I could see how that would be hard to do.” The conversation gets lighter from there and the two of you talk for a couple of hours until you have to call it a night. It makes you feel better about talking to Phil about dating her. You never saw yourself in this position but you think back to Kate encouraging you to go for it. She has a gut instinct that you trust a little bit more than your own.

When you return the next evening after work, Phil is there. You ask to speak to him privately, he takes you to his office and he worries that you might be in financial trouble again. You quickly reassure him that isn't the case and he relaxes. “I never thought I'd ever ask you this but here it goes,” you clear your throat as you think of how to phrase the question. “Well, you know that I have nothing but respect for you, sir. You're like my second father.” He thanks you and asks you to get to the point because he has a business to run. “Right, um, when I was here the other day, Daisy gave me her phone number. She has since told me that she wants to explore a romantic relationship with me. I had never seen her as a potential partner until then and I didn't want to do anything without you knowing, Phil. If you don't want me to date your daughter, I swear to you that I won't do it.”

Phil crosses his arms over his chest and sighs. “What about that girl you brought here? The two of you seemed pretty cozy,” he points out.

“We are just friends,” you correct, once again. “She needed a night out, I mean her ex is a piece of work.” You shake your head at the reminder of the drama that man causes.

Phil nods, “So you're doing free work for her out of the kindness in your heart? No ulterior motive?”

“Come on Phil, you know me. I would never do something like that,” you reply, a little offended by the accusation.

“Do I know you,” he asks with a scowl. “Because I never saw this conversation coming. Not from you,” he sits forward on his desk. “You used to babysit her.”

“Phil, I have wrestled with this since she asked me out. I can't explain it, we were talking last night - just talking - and I think that we might have a connection. This isn't about an inappropriate relationship, because it wouldn't be it's…” you sigh as you fail to find the proper words with his disappointed glare distracting and insulting. “I know that in your eyes, no one is or ever will be good enough for her and I'm not saying that I am, but… she is an adult. And I think, correct me if I'm wrong, that you trust her enough to make her own decisions. You haven't said a definitive no yet so something tells me that you're not against the idea. Unless I'm wrong and I'm giving you another opportunity to say no and I won't ever bring it up again. I swear.”

Phil sighs and looks at the picture of him and Daisy in his desk. It's an old picture of the two of them going down the slide at a park. He wishes that she could have stayed that small but you were right. She is an adult now. “Do you love her?” he asks, keeping his eyes on the photo.

You rub your face, “I don't know yet. I've never thought about her that way before but… I'd like the chance to find out.” You truthfully admit because the last thing you're ever going to do is lie to him.

“Okay, I will allow it,” he looks in your direction as he talks. You are shocked but filled with relief. “You better not mess this up, you only have one shot at this.”

“Thank you, sir. I appreciate it, really.” The two of you hug and he kicks you out of his office telling you to make plans with his daughter when he isn't around. She didn't work today so that wasn't a problem. You walked home a little excited about the idea of dating again.

Later that week, while you're cooking dinner you get a phone call and answer frantically as you're completely ruining your meal. “Hey, are you doing anything tonight?” The familiar voice asks over the phone. The smoke alarm goes off as the pan catches fire and you drop the phone on the kitchen counter.

“Hold on!” You shout as you cover the pan with the lid, run to open the windows, turn on the fans, and wave the kitchen rag in front of the alarm to keep the smoke away long enough to shut off the horrible noise. Once the beeping stops you breathlessly pick up the phone and see that it was Wanda calling. “Hey, sorry, what were you saying?”

You are met with uncontrollable laughter from Wanda that makes you cackle a bit as well. “I’m sorry, it's not funny,” she says as she tries to contain her laughter. “Are you okay?” You confirm that you are but your food isn't. “Perfect!”

“How so? I don't think that almost dying of asphyxiation is perfect.” You throw in sarcastically.

“No, I just mean since you have nothing to eat and I have more than I can eat that it's perfect! You can come over here for dinner,” she invites happily.

“Are you sure?” You say looking at the time and figuring that you don't have a lot of time to prepare anything else and you really don't want to get takeaway.

“I wouldn't have called if I wasn't,” she says with something in her mouth.

“No I'm sure you wouldn't but um, what about Vision?” you ask carefully. “He hardly likes it when I'm around the boys when I'm working. I'd hate for his private investigator to report to him that I was there when I wasn't. Especially since you have the boys this week.” You explain yourself as you check your burnt food and think of the best way to dispose of it.

“It won't be a problem,” Wanda says with a grumble in her tone at the idea that her ex-husband is still making it difficult for her to have friends. “The boys made some friends at their karate practice and I guess the class has a sleepover for the new kids whenever they join to make sure everyone gets to know each other well. I don't know. All I know is that my house is empty when it shouldn't be and I could really use the company. I was hoping that maybe you could too?”

You understand how it feels when Rachel has a sleepover on a night when you have her. It's a crummy feeling because on the one hand, you're happy whenever she has friends and gets to create those fun memories that come with sleepover adventures. On the other hand, you only get so much time with her that you don't want to share it with anyone.

“Alright, I'll be right over,” you say as you grab your keys. She cheers over the phone before hanging up. You grab a bottle of wine that you think she might like as you leave your apartment. It was a gift that you otherwise wouldn't drink yourself. Wanda answers the door with a glass of wine in her hand and you laugh as you hold up the bottle that you brought with you.

“Oh good, you brought your own. I really wasn't in the mood to share,” she says jokingly as she lets you inside. You smile and set it down on the dining table.

“And here I thought it was going to be a gift for you,” you walk into the kitchen and grab yourself a glass.

“Hold on now, I didn't say I didn't want any,” she says as she sets her glass down on the counter in order to make you a plate. You pour yourself half a glass from the bottle she already had open and move to get out of the kitchen. “Is this too much?” She turns to show you the plate but she almost knocks into you, “I’m so sorry!!” She says abruptly and you laugh it off telling her that you're fine. “Are you sure?”

“Come to think of it, there must be something wrong with me since I'm here having dinner with you.” She swats your shoulder with the back of her hand and tells you to shut up before handing you the plate with your food on it. Your stomach growls loudly as the aroma finally enters your senses. “This looks amazing, thank you for the invitation.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Wanda says. “Sit, make yourself comfortable.” She tries to direct you out of the kitchen.

You look to her back door and think about how she gets so many more stars here than you do. “Hey, do you mind if we eat out there? I mean, it's such a great night,” you ask and Wanda looks out the window from the door and agrees.

“You’re right, it is a nice night,” she grabs her glass from the counter and opens the door for you. You thank her as you pass by and get yourself settled on the outdoor furniture. Wanda joins you shortly after with a plate of her own. The two of you enjoy the meal together under the stars with two bottles of wine. When the food is gone the two of you are still chatting. “So what happened to making plans with us and your ex and Rachel?” Wanda asks as she pours the rest of the wine from the second bottle into her glass.

You cringe at the question as you remember that you told her you'd hang out with her and the boys. “I completely forgot, I'm sorry. This week has been… honestly there's no good explanation. I'm sorry,” you say as you finish your glass of wine. “I’m glad you called me over here.” You make eye contact with her as you say this. Wanda’s smile is warm and inviting and you realize that you never thought you’d have a chance to see this side of her. She is a very beautiful person and you start to feel lucky to have the chance to know her.

“Do you dance?” Wanda asks, breaking you from getting lost in her features. You didn’t realize she had freckles before.

“Uh, not sure what you mean by that,” you pinch your eyebrows together but neither of you break eye contact.

She giggles, “It’s not a trick question. Do you dance?”

You look away for a second then look back at her. “I suppose it depends on who’s asking,” you reply as you blink slowly.

Wanda rests her elbow on the armrest and sits her head on her fist as she leans a little closer, “I’m asking.”

You nod and frown your lips a little before smiling again, “Then yes, I dance.”

“Perfect,” she says before she finishes the last bit of wine in her glass. She grabs her phone and taps the screen as she stands up and picks a song to play on her outdoor speakers that she hardly ever got to use. “Stay right here,” she tells you as she runs inside to turn the device on.

You stand and look up at the stars, the weather is perfect for a summer night. Usually it’s unbearably hot and humid. But tonight it’s a perfect warm temperature with a slight cool breeze. The moon is full and providing more light than usual. Though, lighting isn’t a problem as Wanda’s porch lights also shine bright. You close your eyes and take a deep breath through your nose and enjoy the refreshing scents of grass and trees. Then you hear the soft rhythmic strumming of a guitar and you turn around with open eyes as Wanda is rejoining you on the deck. Your heartbeats a little differently as you watch her walk over to you. There isn’t a time that you have ever felt so calm in the presence of someone but she has brought that out in you. You give the credit to the wine because anything else feels dangerous.

“Hi,” you say as you offer your hand to her.

“Hi,” she says as she takes your hand and the two of you seamlessly begin to move together. Her free hand resting on your shoulder and yours resting on her waist. The two of you dance to the music, at first facing each other and having light conversation that mostly consists of compliments on movement. Then the two of you fall silent, just enjoying the moment together as you hold each other close and continue to sway along to the melody.

As the third song ends, you look at her cheek and consider placing a small kiss there but as you move forward she turns to look at you, almost making her lips the target. You clench your jaw as you stop yourself. Wanda leans her head further into your shoulder. “Thank you for spending time with me tonight,” she says in a soft broken whisper. Not that she needed to whisper, she just didn’t feel like her normal volume would be appropriate at this distance.

“I can’t think of a single place I’d rather be than here right now,” you admit. Wanda hums as she closes her eyes. She doesn’t want to break this moment but she doesn’t want something to happen. Neither do you. Not when you have been texting everyday since Monday with Daisy. That’s when it hits you. Daisy. Sweet, sarcastic Daisy. You follow Wanda’s lead and close your eyes and continue to sway. You don’t look at her, you don’t say another word. You just hold her until the next song ends. And the next. And one more after that until the music stops.

The two of you break apart and she goes inside to figure out the problem. You collect the dishes and bring them inside to wash. When she still hasn’t returned after you have the dishes put in the dishwasher, you wander around the house until you find her. She is on the phone with her boys. She is singing softly to them. You walk away as you think about how great of a mother she is. You start to wonder what kind of role Daisy would be able to play in Rachel’s life. You can’t believe you never considered this before. She’s young and free, would she be a good step-mother? As much as you don’t always get along with Anna, she is a decent person to co-parent with. Then there’s the Jean of it all. Is Daisy someone that you could bring around Jean? You don’t know yet. But something tells you that there wouldn’t be a problem bringing Wanda to Jean.

“Hey, sorry about that,” Wanda says as she finds you sitting and facing the torn down wall. She joins you on the sofa. “They were getting anxious about spending the night and they wanted to be picked up. But I’m a little drunk so I had to convince them to stick it out.”

“That’s precisely why I haven’t left yet,” you admit with a laugh.

“You don’t have to leave, I have a guest room that is always ready to use,” she tells you. Wanda yawns as she checks the time. Her eyes widened at her watch, “It’s gotten really late. Wow, where did the time go?”

“I have no idea,” you say refraining from saying something flirtatious. “If it’s not a problem, I could stay,” you say as you look at her. “But I probably won’t see you in the morning because I’ll have to head home pretty early in order to make it to work on time.”

“Yeah, it’s no problem at all,” she says as she gets up from the couch. “I’ll show you the way,” she waits for you to stand and you follow her up the stairs. Wanda leaves you with a goodnight hug and you thank her for letting you stay. In the morning, you leave a note on the refrigerator so that you don’t leave without some form of goodbye.

Chapter 7

Taglist: @princessprudy @sayah13 @agaymilflover @awkwardmandalorian @bentleywolf29 @thatshyboy1998 @artisannat @thisischaismagic @wqndanat @madamevirgo @likefirenrain @tearsofglitter @feltlikethat @the-writer-arcane @natashasilverfox @karsonromanoff @aloneodi @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous @jovialsublimecomputer @natasha-maximoff @iliketozoneout @doudouneverte @druggedduck @notbornbutforged @when-wolves-howl @lifespectator @justyourwritter69 @wandaromamoff69 @awesomelygayasf @nekoannie-chan @diaryoflife @wuwu96 @wandanats-goodgirl @sincerely-indi @blueredg52 @sisiwritesfanfics @fuzzyuniversityeclipsefriend @arcturusseer @scarlettwidow34 @chasethemoon @raven-ss @canyonyodeler @sokovianbaby

#fanfiction #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff au #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wonderstruck series #messedupfan

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maylovessyou · 3 months

Text

Part 2 - nightmare

Sooo... Finally the 2nd part, I've been a week abroad and didn't have much time to write, as soon as I got back home I finished this part, I strongly believe there will be like at least 3 more and as always I hope you all enjoy it very much! Reposts are really appreciated!!

Tw: afab, cursing/fowl language, name calling, tell me if I missed any

Word count: 1,550

He just stays there, a smirk imprinted on his face "so that's what you think of me, Honigbiene?" He asks tilting his head.

You quickly turn around facing him with fear in your eyes "I... Uhm.." you stutter, ashamed of what he's heard.

"I'll snap your back in half if I ever hear you talking about me like that, kleine Hure." He threatens through gritted teeth.

"I... I'm sorry, König.. just..." You try to explain yourself tho you couldn't find any valid reason.*

He looks at you with nothing but apathy on his face and walks away, grabs the lighter and cigarettes on the counter and rushes outside to have a smoke. You look at him both perplexed and angry, why would he take *your* cigarettes without asking? Or even caring?

You try to ignore it and run after him to get your stuff back. When you get outside you find him lighting a cigarette and looking at you with a smirk.

"What do you want, Hure?" He growls. "I'm not a whore, if anything you're the one that fucks every living thing." You spat back at him, his face contorting into a pissed frown.

"Watch your tongue before I'll cut it off." His words harsh as ever, tho their effect on you is minimal, after all this time how could it be any other way? Yea?

You get back inside, forgetting about your belongings and most of all ignoring him.

You take out your phone and look for something to make for dinner, somehow, somehow, you still manage to have a soft stop for his wellbeing, and that only.

You find some sort of pizza pockets that you think you'll like so you start making them, by the time you've finished baking them it's become 7pm.

You plate them on the table and look for him, first in the living room, then outside, then his room. Nowhere to be found.

"The cunt left?" You ask yourself aloud shaking your head in disappointment and turning around to get the cutlery, only to find him there, grabbing you by your nape.

"What did I tell you about calling me names? Huh?" He yells, the height difference, force and brutality different and age difference makes you shiver from fear. Hatred leaking eyes pierce through you, leaving you tremble.

"Answer, Honigbiene." He yells again, your eyes widening.

"I... I was just worried... Yea.. worried." You babble, trying to sound convincing.

His grip loosens though he keeps your eyes fixated on him. "No one taught you manners? Useless bitch." He looks down on you, almost feeling disgusted.

You quickly wiggle off his grasp and just look at him, rubbing where he left a sore mark. "I was calling you to eat. Just trying to be gentle. But you're clearly not worth it." You said feeling repulsed by him and going to your room, just as far as you can from that monster of a man.

König, on the other hand, took it more easy. It was fun to mess with you, make you feel bad, sad, angry, make you cry. He simply sat on a chair and ate the food you made, like nothing had just happened.

After an hour or so he comes up to your door "I like ya cooking, who taught you?" He grunts, feeling like an animal.

You hear his voice, oh you do, but you also don't do or say anything. Complete silence. Ignorance too.

"Hey I'm talking to you, Honigbiene." He scowls, your avoidance pissing him off.

"Go away." You whisper, just enough for him to hear. And hopefully do as said.

But he doesn't. Why would he? He's the man right? He got the pants. So he bangs on your door, hard. "Open up, ja?" He smirks, thinking he's having control over you, but still, you don't say anything.

After some time he decided he's had enough, so what's better than just breaking in? Knocking down the door? Easy. The first thing that comes to his mind tho isn't to break down the door, maybe you didn't lock it, right? Right? Right.

He simply wiggles the knob and boom! He's inside. Your figure way smaller than him, any size is smaller than him. Just a little mouse hunted by the cat. No, a tiger in this case.

You stay there, scrunched up by the headboard, your phone and headphones by your side. "Go out." You whisper, the fear that König instills in you has no words capable of describing. "Please.." you add, you're voice sounding weaker than usual.

"What? The little girl's gonna cry now?" He says in a mocking, degrading tone, not caring to pick his words correctly.

You just look at him, speechless, scared, fragile even. Only a moment after you take your gaze off him, looking down at where your knees and chest meet, trying to ignore your now flooded waterlines.

König just looks at you, the pathetic state you're in, feeling nothing but superiority. "Look at me when I speak." He demands, his voice stern as always, but you're unable to. Certainly not when you're on the verge of tears.

You slightly raise your head up, enough for your eyes to meet his, and then you see him. A wide smirk plastered on his face, the bastard enjoying the torture he's giving you.

"Don't cry now. I bet you've gotten hurt in worse ways, Honigbiene." He tries to sound sympathetic and cover the mock in his voice, of course, he doesn't succeed.

"Please just leave.." you plead once again, you're voice shaking and lips quivering, eyelids becoming heavier by the second.

He looks at you up and down one last time before exiting the room, closing the door with a loud slam.

Night falls and you're still in your bed, drenched in tears of fear and broken heart, not because of him directly, but because of the way he treats you. You've done everything you could to make this agonizing stay a little less hard, but he hasn't put any effort, no, on the other hand he has just gotten worse and worse.

At around 1am you decide to get up and take a shower, refresh yourself, get something under the teeth, hopefully be alone. At least now.

And you do so, after you've finished showering you just walk down to the kitchen and heat out the leftovers of the dinner you cooked, careless to get dressed. After all, you were sure you were alone.

You take the plate and sit at the table, slowly eating the food and sipping water, the headache you've had until now slowly vanishing.

After finishing you rub your eyes and slightly stretch, "this is a nightmare... A very big, tall and strong nightmare." You say to yourself, your head resting in your palms.

"As if you were a dream." You hear a voice say right behind you.

Taglist: @Lillumrorum , @captainsarcasmandsass , @attractivesteaminghunkofflesh69 , @notyoursweetcat

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etherealacoustic · 2 years

Text

Lifeless Eyes pt.3

Pairing - Wolfstar x daughter!OC, Fred Weasley x OC!

Summary - Nova Lupin-Black comes home for the Easter holidays and her parents are in for a shock.

Warnings - breakdown, depression and cursing.

Here is the final part of the small series, my first ever as well! Hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I loved writing this <33

Link for pt.1 here

Link for pt.2 here

And before she knew it, a pair of arms were wrapped carefully around her vulnerable frame.

Sirius held her close, pulling his daughter close against him as much as possible, wanting to hide her away safely from all of her demons.

"Shhh," he murmured and pressed his lips to the top of her head.

"Da," she sobbed, her hands tightening as she gripped his shirt. "I c- can't- 's too much- I can't do- I'm sorry-"

"Hush love," Remus whispered from her side and rubbed her back. "Let it out".

"Pa," she stuttered and lifted up her head to look at him and Remus had never felt his heart being broken like this before.

A huge amount of pain had struck his chest as he looked at her destroyed state. He himself was shaking and he could also feel his eyes starting to water.

Her eyes on the other hand were crimson red, puffy and all wet with the tears that continued flowing down. She was shattered, as though she really had enough of everything.

Remus swallowed down his own lump and cupped her face, "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere, okay? I'm right here," he said desperately and she fell right into his arms.

"I'm right here," he repeated and shut his eyes tightly, a lone tear slipping down at last as he hugged her.

Nova Lupin-Black cried.

She cried and cried and cried.

She cried till there were no more tears left to fall, she cried till her throat was sore, she cried till her eyes were a deep red and her face a mess, she cried till every broken piece inside of her was free of all the emotions that were kept bottled inside for too long.

Her body stopped trembling after a few minutes and she lifted her head from its place on Remus' shoulder.

She let a deep breath escape her lips as she wiped her face, feeling her heart lighten at the breakdown.

"Sit down," Sirius instructed softly and directed her towards the bed while also handing her a glass of water.

"Feeling better now?" Remus asked.

"Loads," she answered and sniffed. "My shoulders seemed to have lost half the weight".

The two just smiled at her, their faces the embodiment of gentleness and comfort. They glanced at each other and both had the same thoughts.

They sat in silence after that, both men in no way intending to pressure or rush her.

"Can- can I tell you everything?" Nova broke the quiet hesitatingly.

"Course you can, love," Sirius grinned, extremely glad at her decision.

"Take it at your own pace," Remus suggested. "Go slow if it gets too hard".

She nodded gratefully but was then stumped, "From where do I even start?" She laughed nervously.

"Anyhow you like it," they said in unison.

"Alright," she said and bit her lip before beginning. "Well I've been like this for the past 3-4 months at least. And I didn't know what was happening. One day everything just suddenly went dull, black and ugly. I was no longer happy, or enthusiastic or passionate about anything anymore. It took a lot of effort to even smile, you know? It was like my face was a statue, like my very heart had gone numb".

"Dolores Umbridge," she muttered suddenly and both of their eyes narrowed at the rather familiar name. "She's the main reason, Dad," she mumbled, addressing them both.

"That woman is horrible, vile, cruel, evil, monstrous and every other synonym there is left. She tortured everyone, Da!" She exclaimed with slight emotion.

Sirius didn't say anything but Remus noticed the way his jaw had tightened considerably.

"She- She still has us read all those useless textbooks that have nothing apart from ridiculously long theories and boring passages. We still don't do any practicals because she's afraid we're gonna start our own army or something. And she's turning a blind to Voldemort as well! Talking about Cedric that way-" her voice broke as she took a minute to collect herself.

Cedric Diggory. Her best friend, the type of brother she never had. The loving, handsome, funny, brave and pure Hufflepuff.

Her Ced, whose memory was tainted everyday by the woman's false statements.

Now the only thing Nova felt was anger, and both of her parents sensed it quickly.

"I tried Pa," she said honestly and looked at him, her grey eyes meeting his honey ones. "I really tried to be as quiet as possible and not let her taunts get to me. And I was good, seriously I was".

He nodded, knowing there was a huge but coming up. He wasn't angry at her of course, he knew she had tried.

"But you can't expect me to stay quiet when that bitch mentions you," she said through gritted teeth.

"She what?" Sirius asked sharply, his gaze an identical one to his daughter's.

"Yes she did!" Nova said, glad that someone was now on the same level of furious as her.

"What did she say?" Remus questioned, his mind once again filling with thoughts of self-hatred.

"I can't even say it for merlin's sake! She- she insulted you because of- because of your furry little problem. In front of the whole fucking class!" Nova seethed.

"She did not," Sirius now whispered in a deadly tone.

"She did, Da!" Niva riled him up even more, but the pair fell silent at Remus' warning look.

"What did you do?" He asked cautiously, not wanting her to be in trouble because of him.

"I defended you," she answered with an innocent smile that was failing to hide the satisfied smirk. "Respectfully".

"Sure you did," he scoffed but a smile spread across his face anyways at seeing Sirius high-five her and at the huge grin adorning her face now.

"I got detention, but it was worth it," she shrugged. "And don't you dare tell me off for that. Even if you do, it'll be all worthless as I'd do the entire thing again in a heartbeat," she warned.

"I won't say anything," he rolled his eyes playfully. "But you should've been careful".

"Godric do I feel so much better now that I've got everything off," she laughed .

She laughed.

The two men stared at her for a second before laughing out loud themselves.

"This was the main part, the rest was just stress, tension, pressure from the exams and studies," she added.

"Sure?"

"Sure," she nodded. "Hogwarts has really become a terrible place since that wretched thing has stepped foot inside. I don't even wanna go back," she mumbled.

"No problem!" Sirius said with a very obvious glint in his eyes. "We have a teacher at home, you'll be all set".

Remus shook his head as the two shared a wicked laugh. "As much as I would love to keep you here, darling, you have to go. Unfortunately".

Nova faked a pout and huffed dramatically before resigning to her fate. "Well, the force can't always be with me".

He chuckled and leaned back against the headboard of the bed, "What did she have you doing in detentions?"

Silence. And more silence.

Remus' smile faded as his eyes glanced between Nova and Sirius, who looked a bit anxious too.

"Love, what are you not telling us?" Sirius asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion and also anger at Umbridge.

"I- um- she had me doing lines," she answered, not fully honest but not lying either.

"And?" Remus prodded her, knowing there was something to add.

She sighed, her eyes wandering for a second before she slowly lifted up her sleeve and put forward her left hand.

All that followed her action was a deadly calmness, one that was so intense that she was sure there was going to be a murder happening soon.

Remus swallowed and his eyes pierced the swollen skin of his daughter's hand, his entire figure radiating anger.

"Always a monster, always a disgrace," Sirius read it out through gritted teeth. "She's etched these words, Nova!"

"She didn't do it by herself," Nova mumbled. "I was given a blood-quill, where you use your own blood to write and the words appear on your hand".

"That absolutely revolting and bloody maniac-" An endless stream of curses fell from his lips as he paced around the room.

"Pa?" Nova said cautiously.

Remus didn't say anything and just took her hand in his, his touch filled with every bit of gentleness that his eyes were failing to provide at the moment. He tapped the red skin with his wand and she hissed a little as he healed the deep cuts.

"It looks fresh," Sirius added as he sat down again and watched the wound being treated.

"Well I did have my last detention just a day before coming here".

"For how long?" Remus questioned.

"Almost a month now".

"Why didn't you send a letter?" Sirius muttered and was already planning different ways to commit a crime.

"She would've intercepted it and the result would be more detentions," Nova grumbled. "But it's okay though, I'm fine now".

"It's not okay!" Remus exclaimed. "It's not right to use these things on students. This is a form of torture for godric's sake!"

"I know, Pa," she nodded and spoke softly. "And believe me I would love nothing more than to beat the shit out of her, but it'll not only land me, but us all in trouble too. And it's not worth the risk".

"And where did that girl go who always quoted, 'What's life without a little risk?'" Sirius frowned, not at all liking this.

"I'm still the same, Da," Nova smiled. "But it's really not worth it".

"It bloody is, it's you who's on the line. It's worth every fucking risk," Remus scowled but he did understand.

"Yeah yeah whatever," she brushed it off and flopped onto his lap while keeping her legs in Sirius'.

"If you happen to get the news of Dolores Umbridge mysteriously turning bald, I didn't do anything," he said suddenly and the other two burst out laughing.

"You'll be the first to know," Nova grinned and poked his stomach.

The trio sat there till it was quite late. Just speaking randomly and enjoying each other's presence after being away for so long.

"I'll go get some water," Nova got up holding her stomach as she wiped tears of laughter from her eyes, the reason being Sirius' very bad joke.

She still had a smile on her face as she reached the kitchen and was met with her best friends.

"Hey boys," she greeted cheerfully and the two turned around unbelievably fast.

"Nov," George breathed out and his lips rugged upwards at seeing her back. He quickly went over and hugged her tightly, almost squeezing the life out of her.

She grinned and pulled away to see him pushing Fred towards her and then shooting them a wink before leaving the two alone.

"Hey Freddie," she whispered softly and snaked her arms around his neck as he pulled her close.

"Hullo love," he smiled giddily and wasted no time in pressing his lips to hers with double the passion.

He kissed her with every bit of emotion that was filling his heart, all for her. He kissed her as a sorry for not doing more, for not helping out more. He kissed her as a thank you for fighting the battle and coming out victorious. He kissed her lovingly, feeling his happiness rise upon seeing hers.

"Thank you," she said after they pulled away. Breathless and overwhelmed.

"Every time," he replied and pecked her cheek gently.

"And sorry too".

"I'll take that one as well".

The couple laughed like buffoons, being crazily drunk over each other that they were unable to form a meaningful sentence.

Fred gave her a beautiful smile and wrapped her in an embrace, "I love you".

Her lips twitched and she leaned her head on his shoulder, enjoying the warmth and intimacy. "I love you too".

She then pulled back and gave him one last kiss before saying good night.

"Night," he whispered back and watched with a daze as she walked up the stairs.

Nova still had the red hue that had coated her cheeks during the kiss and as she entered her room, her parents were quick to spot it.

"Took you long enough to just get some water, eh?" Sirius teased and lifted his eyebrows while Remus smirked.

"Oh shut up," she grumbled and laughed despite herself as she finally settled on the bed.

"Of course," Remus smiled, one that wasn't sincere in any kind of way making her roll her eyes.

"Sleep now," Sirius said after toning down the teasing session and turning off the lights.

"Yeah," she answered, grabbing the blankets and closing her eyes.

"Love you, darling," said Remus.

"Tons and tons," completed Sirius.

"I love you 3000," she offered them a cheeky grin and wink before letting sleep take her.

The two men chuckled fondly at her antics, glad to have their little star once again. They looked at her adoringly before gazing at each other with the same amount of love.

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

#remus lupin #harry potter ff #sirius black #wolfstar #andrew garfield #ben barnes #wolfstar daughter #wolfstar dads #wolfstar masterlist #wolfstar angst #wolfstar fic #wolfstar x daughter oc #wolfstar x daughter #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x oc #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley #fred weasley x wolfstar!daughter

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liauditore · 8 months

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LIAU MY BELOVED

ask game question

Jimmy x Martyn

romeo asking for mirror birds in MY ask box?!!?!??!?!?! (i know u pref mirror birds but solidwood is too funny im so sorry)

ah yeah. these losers.

see, a lot of my thoughts surrounding these two would kind of spoil my own AU that i never make stuff for so im usually somewhat hesitant to talk about them but basically., (toxic!fh mention)

post-evo divorced property police is so real. ive always imagined it as a childhood friends situation, with martyn being a bit older than jimmy.

they probably caught feelings for eachother fairly late and already well into teenhood but neither of them were really sure what it was (this is maybe going a little bit into sexuality hc territory but ive always imagined jimmy as whatever the male equivalent of a useless lesbian is and martyns biphobic towards himself lmao).

i touched on this briefly in that one fic i wrote but i've always headcanoned martyn as being somewhat parentified and thus ties his worthiness to be loved into his ability to perform acts of service for someone rather than just.. existing and letting himself be loved.

so as jimmy became more independent, martyn becomes a bit more insecure about their friendship. this becomes a bit of a self-fulfilling prophecy as he distances himself from jimmy, feeling like jimmy wouldn't love him if he didn't Need him, and jimmy in return feels confused and hurt as he helplessly watches someone he knew all his life drift away.

that + jimmy has this not-so-subtle crush on scott that martyn's always suspected. he's a jealous bitch.

The storm formed after a final sip, my fingertips frozen solid, I pretend that again I can see, you past the rails, ready to meet And I wonder is it too much to ask, to once more, hold you warm in my hands? To accept I can’t forget, and embrace what still fails to fade?

Milk Tea (Oktavia's translyrics) (because I wasn't kidding when I said these two were cheesy yuri to me lmao)

we had a clown to clown communication moment i think cus I also love the idea of them splitting up and meeting in Third Life years and years later (altho i like to imagine it as more of a voluntary separation).

some stuff copy+pasted from that cursed shipping doc i mentioned awhile back: ((scott + jimmy became a thing while martyn was gone pre-3L))

Now reuniting in 3L as fully grown adults after years apart, all those suppressed emotions come bubbling back up to the surface. An adult Martyn is much less unsure about what he's feeling and Jimmy still has those fantasies of what could have been playing on loop in his head. Of course, Jimmy is still attached to Scott and can't abandon his Bethrothed. He loves and knows what's best for him, he would sooner die than forsake his loyalty. But it does hurt when he hits him. Martyn still cares for Jimmy deeply, whether he wants to or not. He takes the time to keep an eye out for him, even though they had no real reason to interact anymore. He becomes one of the only people to realise what Scott was like with him, how devoid of love it all was. He throws out a line, offers to help him run away. Jimmy refuses. Betrayal. A second time. For the same man. Who cares about Jimmy anyway? (he always did take me for granted)

(a little note here before anyone sets me on fire - time works a bit differently in my writing and the players don't have exact ages but jimmy and martyn's age gap is probably not as dramatic as their cc counterparts)

(it's still there but neither of them even recognise their feelings as remotely romantic until they reunite as adults, as kids it's all just them being silly and having grade school drama with each other)

So uh yeah lots of mutual pining and suppressed feelings and puppy love turned angst👍 tis all i shall say cus i wanna make art of the rest lol

Just a second to lessen the ache, or minute to kiss it away I’d give all I have for the chance to go back to youth and you

#asks #ask games #trafficshipping #solidwood #mirror birds #martyn/jimmy #property police #why do these guys have like fifty names #martyns always been a bit boistrous but he starts getting rlly mean later towards jim :c

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itsmealaiah · 3 months

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Ok, hear me out:

Can you write a georg fic with an gn!reader? Like reader wants to leave their s/o but can’t, so they’re trapped in a one-sided relationship. So then they go to georg for help and he talks them through it, helping them figure out what to do. So then they finally are brave enough and come back to georg a few days later for comfort since their partner lashed out at them for being a “bitch” and “useless”. The first half loosely based off of ‘maybe I was boring’ by Wilbur soot.

(Only if ur comfy with writing it, I know it’s a long plot but I wanted to make sure I explained properly💕)

you did amazing explaining it dw ❤️❤️

You're not useless

tags/ warnings: crying, reader's boyfriend being a bitch, arguing, comfort fluff.

pairing: georg x afab

do not repost, copy, translate, or post anywhere else. Use is intended only for this blog and this blog alone.

Your POV:

I'd been coming to Georg's place a lot lately. Not because I enjoyed the company of his other friends, or because I felt at home here. But because this was the only place I knew where I could feel… peaceful.

It wasn't like I didn't love my boyfriend. It was just that… sometimes, I felt like he didn't love me back. Like I was a burden to him. And every time I tried to talk to him about it, he'd brush it off or get angry. I didn't know what to do.

So here I was, once again, sitting on the floor next to Georg's bed, watching him work on some new track. His headphones were on, his hair tied up in a messy bun, and his eyes were lost in concentration. It was oddly comforting, seeing him so focused on something. It made me forget about my problems, even if just for a little while.

"Hey, Georg?" I said softly, nudging him with my elbow. "Can I talk to you about something?" He jumped a little, startled out of his trance, and removed his headphones. His brows knit together in confusion. "Yeah, of course. What's up?"

I took a deep breath and braced myself for what was to come. "Well, you know I've been feeling a bit… distant from him lately. Like I'm just… not enough for him." I paused, watching as a frown crept onto his face. "And I just can't shake this feeling that he's not happy with me. Like he's trapped, or something."

Georg listened intently, nodding along as I spoke. When I finished, he reached out and took my hand in his. His grip was warm and reassuring. "I'm sorry you feel that way, y/n. It's not fair for him to make you feel that way. You deserve so much better." He paused, searching for the right words. "But you know I'm not the best person to talk to about this. You know?" He gave me a small, sad smile.

I bit my lip, trying to fight back the tears. "I know, I know. It's just…

I've been thinking about leaving him. About finding someone who actually wants to be with me." I looked down at our intertwined hands, feeling guilty for even considering it. "But I can't bring myself to do it. I feel like I'm trapped in this one-sided relationship, and I don't know how to make it better."

Georg's expression softened, and he pulled me closer, resting his chin on top of my head. "That's a tough spot to be in. But you don't have to figure it out alone." He paused, sighing softly. "Look, I'm not the best person to give advice, but… maybe you should try talking to him. Tell him how you feel, and if that doesn't work, then… maybe it's time to consider your options."

I nodded, feeling a little bit of relief wash over me. "Thanks, Georg. You're the only one who's ever really understood." I leaned back, meeting his eyes. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

He smiled gently and brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. "You're not alone, y/n. I'll always be here for you, okay?"

Time passed, and I found the courage to confront my boyfriend. It didn't go well. He got defensive, and we ended up arguing even more. I left his place feeling even more alone and confused. When I got back to Georg's, I broke down in tears, feeling more lost than ever. He held me close, letting me cry myself out as we sat on his bed.

Eventually, I calmed down enough to tell him what happened. He listened patiently, not interrupting once, and when I finished, he took my hand in his again. "I'm sorry that didn't go well," he said softly. "But it's not your fault. He's the one who's been acting like a jerk. You deserve so much more."

I nodded, wiping away the last of my tears. "I know, but… I don't know what to do. I feel like I'm just this person who's not good enough for him, and I don't know how to change that." I sighed, feeling defeated. "I don't want to lose him, but I can't keep going like this."

Georg thought for a moment before responding. "You know, you don't have to decide everything right now. You can take some time to think, to figure out what you really want. And in the meantime, you can focus on you. Spend time with me, do things that make you happy. Maybe, if you're lucky, he'll see that you're not the problem, and he'll come around."

I looked up at him, hopeful. "Do you really think so?"

He smiled gently, his eyes never leaving mine. "I do. You deserve someone who sees how amazing you are, y/n. Someone who loves you for you." His voice was soft, almost reverent. "And if he can't be that person, then maybe it's time to find someone who can."

I felt a small spark of determination ignite within me. Maybe there was hope yet. Maybe I didn't have to be trapped in this one-sided relationship forever. I leaned forward and kissed Georg, grateful for his unwavering support. "Thank you," I whispered against his lips. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

We spent the rest of the night talking, laughing, and watching movies. It was the kind of night that made me feel like everything was going to be okay. And for the first time in a long time, I believed it.

#georg listing fluff #georg listing smut #georg listing imagines #georg listing #itsmealaiah

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chaoticwriting · 4 months

Text

Based on Lux opinion on Ink and Dream.

This story was a draft by @anotherrosesthatfell , I am just merely finished the writing

Title: Blame it on alcohol

"Where are you going again, Ink?" Dream asked his wife as he is carrying baby Drop.

"Somewhere." She didn't bother to look back at Dream.

Dream sighed and gently took Ink's hand. He is sad why Ink is acting like this, she promised him she would stop for the sake of her new born baby...

"How about you stay at home and spend time with the children? Lux said Palette has been bullying her again so maybe we could have a talk with those two." Suggested Dream. "or maybe we could spend time together as family? I could make special desserts—"

Ink pulled her hand away and glares at Dream. "No." She said. "I said I am going out and that's the final."

"Ink please, you rarely home with the children. You always smells like alcohol and the children don't like it!" Dream sighed. "Ink, come on. Are you alright? If this about work, I can help—"

"I SAID NO, DREAM." Ink yelled at Dream which cause baby Drop in Dream's arms to cry.

They startled by the sudden cries. Dream immediately try to lull Drop to sleep while Ink just stood there and watch.

She don't like this one bit. She don't like how caring Dream is... She want to blame Dream for something she can't do... He made her feels useless.

"Are you really caring for a child that not even blood related to you? Is this your way on torturing me?!" Ink yelled at Dream once again.

"Ink, quiet down! The children will wake up...!" Dream try to calm Ink down.

"Oh so you're bringing the children again? WHY DO YOU ALWAYS THINK ABOUT THE CHILDREN AND NOT YOUR WIFE FEELINGS?!" Ink is completely losing it.

"Ink that's not what—"

*SLAP*

... ... Ink slapped Dream out of frustration.

Dream just stood there with Drop still crying in his arms.

"I am sorry for not caring enough. I will do better next time." Said Dream. "You can go to that club you always go and meet up with Error... It's okay, your happiness is my priority."

Ink stunned by the fact Dream is aware of her going to the club and meet Error in there. She is mad by the fact Dream knew it all along... No, she is mad Dream didn't do anything.

"That's it? Is that all you're going to say?!" Ink started to tear up. "I am about to meet Error again despite the fact I promised to you that I won't drink again or meet with him again and you decided to stay silence?!"

Ink is taking her stress on Dream again... Yet, this time it's too far.

"SAY SOMETHING DREAM. I DON'T WANT TO HEAR YOU SAYS SORRY FOR SINS I'VE DONE. JUST SAY YOU HATE ME, SAY IT SO I CAN HATE YOU TOO!" Ink grabbed Dream collar which made him to bend over a little.

Drop cries out of the loud voice. The situation made Lux and Palette woke up from their sleep.

"Sister Lux, did you hear that..." Palette hold Lux's hand out of fear.

Despite how many time Lux has framed Palette. He still look up at her and only have her as his shield now.

Lux sighed and patted Palette's head.

"I think the monsters are out there. How about you go to sleep and this older sister will fight those monster..." said Lux as she already tug Palette to sleep.

Lux sneak into the living room and quietly observed the situation. Ink is crying while Dream is quiet... ...

"I hate you..." Said Dream. "Is this really what you want to hear?

Lux was too shocked to hear that. Her papa literally said he hates her mama. Lux quickly left the scene as it too overwhelmed for her.

"Dammit..." Ink cursed at herself. "why can't you hate me properly. I cheated on you. WHY CAN'T YOU JUST DESPISE ME?! WHY YOU MUST BE SO NICE TO ME AND LET ME BE AROUND THE CHILDREN?!"

Despite how overwhelming the situation is, Dream stay calm and hug Ink. Their hug calmed Drop down as her crying stop as well.

"... I know it was an accident. That day, he didn't ask for your consent... ..." said Dream. "You're the mother of my son. I am sorry for making you the mother of my daughter... I didn't think it will affect you since this much which is why I kept her birth a secret..."

It was an odd silent. Ink is still crying as she let go of the hug. She left the house, not bothering to look at Dream.

...

... ...

Dream dropped a tear as he finally let himself break.

"I am sorry for dragging you into this marriage..."

#Ink sans #dream sans #drink ship #evil lux au #undertale au #wattpad #ao3 #Lux sans #palette sans #error sans #drop sans #hint of errorink #fanfic

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ru1-png · 2 years

Text

It's okay, I got you. I won't let you go. (comfort fic)

. . . Content Desc ! (ノ・ω・)ノ

i am finally back once again after a month. . . ⤿ ;; Mayoi Ayase x Reader ୧ .˚ₓ this is a . . . sad fluff // (technically angst but.. good relationship) -> TW : overall bad mental state, mentions of su!cidal thoughts. i've had this idea for a fic like this for some time technically to help me out at one point. but, now ive finally decided to actually work on it so this hopefully helps you just as it helped me. ILY <3 you're so pretty/handsome and keep on slaying !!! ^^ word count : 2099 [[ another long one.. sorry ! ]]

, , i kinda felt like changing up my formatting a bit for stuff so. . . hope it looks nice ! `` for once im not going to really write a setting up the scene, i just wanna get into things, seeing as theres not much setup i can really think of . . . ENJOY (ꈍᴗꈍ)

Staring at the ceiling for hours has become a norm for you as of late. Eyes heavy and tired, bloodshot red from having given into your feelings and bursting into tears once again. Your head can only simply register one thing, a single thought, "Why am I so tired?" But you know why you're tired, you know why you're here. But that's the last thing you want to think about. Maybe if you were to isolate your thoughts so much, it wouldn't seep out onto others, you wouldn't infect them with your incredible burnout and awful mental state. Maybe, if... you just weren't here anymore, you wouldn't have to let anybody down?

It's felt as if almost everything around you is slowly crashing down, the fact that it's all happened so slowly only makes it even worse. Like a "fuck you" that never goes away. Almost as if your new constant stresses and worries don't take up all the time in your day. Eating and sleeping have never felt like such a task, even as little as you've partaken in such tasks over these 2 weeks. "If I'm always hurting someone else or making their day worse, then why shouldn't mine be worse?" Nothing but self destructive thoughts, clawing and chipping away at the usual outspoken vivacious person that is yourself. Counting the hours that pass or occasionally opening your phone just to stare at your lock screen being the only thing keeping you from floating away in that awful fucked up brain of yours.

You feel truly utterly useless, everything you have done or tried to do has lost all its worth. The frowns of other people begin to feel like knives penetrating through you, twisting and mixing your insides, almost making you feel sick. You feel so embarrassed that your only thoughts can be "Why am I here?" or "What's stopping me." Why can't you just be normal? Why can't you just feel happy? You don't like isolating yourself, but you can't bother to leave your room even though it has been days.

As you continue laying there, every blink you make feeling tenfold of what it truly is, you are jolted back to your senses as you hear a soft knock coming from your door. Unable to really ignore it, seeing as you can't really lie about not being home, your car is outside. You return the knock, trying to hide how tired you are, "What happened?" The door then opens a small bit, only being the slightest bit ajar, just barely enough for a head to stick out from it. And that is just what happened, suddenly you see at first small bits of messy plum-purple hair stick in through the small crevice made. Then, you begin to see it, the face of the oh so lovely yet oh so timid Mayoi. At that very moment, it then suddenly hit you... "You've probably had your boyfriend worried sick this whole time." Mayoi had always been the type to show the highest bit of concern for you, no matter what was going on. But, he would never want to invade your privacy, if he think you needed your own space, he'd give just that. Even so, he'd always be right there by your side no matter what, through thick and thin Mayoi was there even if you two haven't decided to move in with each other yet. He would often have his moments where his overwhelming stresses and anxieties get the better of him and he can't help but break into a panic, being able to comfort him and help him through that would send your heart to the moon.

Mayoi's whole head suddenly peeks through the door, you hear a slight rustle coming from what seems to be something in his hand which is obstructed by the doors view. His striking cyan eyes always catch you off guard. It's always as if they are staring into the deepest part of your body, just studying you. With a concerned frown on his face, he can't help but see how tired you look, and seeing your face slightly red from the previous crying you had done only makes him more worried. Finally, Mayoi musters up the courage to say something.

"Y/n.. I'm really worried about you. Y-you haven't come out of your room in a few days, I'm so sorry for being a bother but, d-do you need me to stay for a few days?" Mayoi sounds like he might even shed a tear himself, you are simply shooken to your core seeing his face, the true worry, sadness, confusion. You don't want to leave Mayoi like that, but no matter what it just feels like you can't get your shit together. Feeling such guilt and doing nothing more than blaming yourself for Mayoi's concern, you ask him to come into your room.

He becomes a bit flustered at the request, "Are you sure I should come in? I don't want to invade your space."

"How could such a considerate person deserve me.." you'd think to yourself and you fight the urge to frown even more noticeably. "It's just fine Mayoi, you're welcome into my room at any time, please don't feel worried to step in." You give him the most comforting smile your face can possibly contort into. The plum haired boy begins moving around the scattered clothes and small bits of garbage flooding the ground, trying his very best not to step on anything. Along with the more steps into your room he took, the rustling noise from before had been revealed to you to have been indeed a bag that was hanging from his wrist.

Every second he inches closer to your bed, you can feel your body tensing up, your heart rate only raising. "He shouldn't have to go through all this trouble for me, why do I cause him all this trouble? I should be a normal, loving, happy partner, yet here I am. Doing nothing but causing him trouble. Why do I keep on making mistakes, I'm only hurting him, why would he even stay with me if I'm that much of a bother, why am I even here anymore?!" You can't help but panic, why must you torment yourself like this any time someone dares to care about you, any time someone would even try to open their heart to a vile awful person like you.

Suddenly, as Mayoi reaches your bed, you have lost all track of your thoughts, how far you have sent yourself in terms of blind panic. Because, low and behold, you are already in tears, sitting there right in front of Mayoi. You are only made aware of this once you feel one of the crystal drops run down your cheek, almost tickling it. Mayoi jumps a bit, not expecting this sudden reaction.

"Y-Y/n?! D-did I do something wrong, are you alright?! Please don't cry.... I'm sorry, I'M SORRY!" A billion thoughts rush into Mayoi's head slightly sending him into a panic aswell. You can't help but blame yourself as always for this situation. But, you do the only thing that you think you can do right now, you just... hug him, you latch your arms around Mayoi and you don't let go. Almost having him in a death grip, you can do nothing more than try to let yourself feel the warm embrace and try to calm your boyfriend down. You let out sudden sporadic sobs, not being able to contain all these bottled up feelings, Mayoi suddenly shakes each time you let one of the sobs out.

After choking on your words more than enough, you are finally able to get a few words out. "Mayoi... I'm-" you take a deep breath trying to stop another sob from coming out, "I'm so sorry.." but you couldn't stop it, more tears came out. "I do nothing but hurt you, I do nothing but cause you pain, I keep on bringing you down with my problems. I'm so sorry for everything I've done to you, I don't want to be constantly worrying you, but somehow I can always fuck up and do just that. I keep on fucking up for everyone, no matter how hard I try. I'm just... so tired, I'm tired and I can't do this anymore. It's all so hard, I'm just a waste of space that's been nothing but a useless burden to everyone." You take one last shaky breath, more tears coming, "I'm sorry....". You can no longer comprehend any basic words to use to express how you feel, absolutely out of any energy to say anything more. You just dig your head into Mayoi's shoulder, and once again hug him.

It takes a while for anything else to happen, but that's fine with you, just being in Mayoi's arms gives you a sense of comfort, but an unimaginable sense of pain. His hand begins to reach for your hair, as he shakily strokes it, just like a parent would with their child trying to lull them to sleep.

"Y/n... you haven't done a single thing wrong. I'm so sorry these feelings have been bothering you so much. Please tell me... y/n" He hesitates, slowing down the gentle strokes in your h/c hair, "Are y-you okay y/n? I'm really sorry for asking but, I can't see you so sad like this. I'm in no place to assume how you feel, so please, if you have anything going on, you can tell me."

Knowing Mayoi would be willing to give that kind of space to open up about how you feel, you decide to finally let it out. Though the embarrassment won't go away, though all the bad thoughts feel so loud, you can't keep this from him anymore. It's not worth keeping it all in anymore, not when Mayoi is so concerned about you. You suddenly begin to let everything out, talking about your struggles, your constant concerns, and well.. the thoughts you've had. Being as brutally honest as you can is all you can do, but you make sure to remind Mayoi that none of this is his fault and in no ways are you upset at him. The last thing you would want is to have him panicking which would only make things worse. The fact that he is even here listening to you, and so intently as he is already enough of a shocker.

"That's... about all, I'm so sorry about the mess aswell, I'm just.. a mess right now." You sigh as you look downward with a look of shame and embarrassment that you'd let things get this low. It takes Mayoi a bit of time to find the right words to say, a process which normally would take him a fair amount of time. Once finding out what he wants to say and how to say it, he gently holds your hand, looking into your e/c eyes with the same look you always get as you stare into his eyes.

"Y/n, you've never been anything of a bother, I should have checked on you more. Never would I believe you deserve any of this..." He pauses. Getting lost in your gaze, which shakes him up a bit, he regains his grounds, "I-i want to help you in any ways that I can... I love you, and I will be here for you. Though I am nowhere close to anything above average, I want to love and care for you in whatever ways I can. Everything is going to be okay y/n, I got you. I won't let you go."

The last sentence he let out shook you to your core, and you could feel yourself tearing up again. You then fall right into him, but not suddenly enough to catch him off guard, and you just lay there. Never has an embrace felt so... comforting, so loving, so reassuring. But, Mayoi has proved a hug like that can exist and that yes... everything might end up really being okay. After some time, you sit back up. Mayoi looks to his left where he had placed the bag he had in hand down during the breakdown, and he passes you the bag.

"I'm s-sorry if you aren't hungry, but just in case you are, I got you your favorite." He slightly blushes as you open the bag to find a large assortment of foods and snacks you like; you can't help but smile and look at him.

"Thank you Mayoi... thank you, I love you"

#enstars #ensemble stars #comfort #comfort fic #mayoi ayase #ayase mayoi #enstars x y/n #enstars x reader #ensemble stars x reader #ensemble stars x y/n #ilysm

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lemonluvgirl · 1 year

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Gurl I think I know what I want to request if that’s ok 🥹 Have you ever written Katniss being whipped instead of Gale? If you have, please ignore this and kindly send me the link. 😂

If not, I’d love to read your take on it. 😍 Thank you! (And if you don’t want to write the prompt that’s totally ok too!).

Hello dear! Sorry it took me so long to answer this one! But I wanted to wait until I had the time and energy to write it properly!

Hopefully you'll like what I've come up with!

I’m roused from the useless stupor I had fallen into by the sound of her voice, speaking quietly in the kitchen.

I sit up, ramrod straight on her living room couch, ears straining to hear her again. None of the horrible things I had been feeling, all the dark thoughts that had been burrowing around in my brain, wrapping themselves around me, tighter and tighter and making me nearly incoherent with pent up worry, exhaustion, and anger, can hold onto me anymore. They slide away at the sound of her awake and still able to speak.

For a long while there I really thought that the girl who had survived the death of her father, starvation, an unknown arena, fireballs and trackerjackers, the careers and the mutts and countless other dangers would finally be overcome by the furious whip of a new Head Peacekeeper.

I really thought we were going to lose her, when Delly had dragged me to the square, whispering frantically, ‘they caught her, Peeta, it's really, really, bad! You have to come quick!’

I really thought I was going to follow her to the grave, shot dead by a squad of armed peacekeepers because when I saw the back of her shirt torn and hanging open, her hands chained to the post, her head lolling half consciously, and her naked back, mutilated and bloody, carved open by the whip, I thought I would kill the man who had done it to her, without any regrets.

But thankfully Haymitch stepped in, and saved us both. But not before Thread nearly killed her, and I openly defied him when I jumped in front of the whip to take the thirteenth lash, right across my face.

“Prim’s fine, your mother’s fine. Everyone is safe.” Gale’s voice floats over from the kitchen. Deep and even, like he’s trying his best to be calm and reassuring.

“And Peeta?” Her voice cracks a little on my name. Everything inside me snaps to attention, and I’m halfway off the couch before I realize walking in on their private moment would be a really dick move right now. So I force myself to be still.

Gale’s tone is low, with that same chest deep rumble that accompanies almost all his conversation, but his voice is still audible.

“He’s okay too.” It’s said without inflection, or emotion. Like he’s trying to be very matter-of-fact about it. I wonder if it pains him to be asked about me. I wonder if he understands that she asks from a place of reluctant friendship, and not-

“Where is he? Did—did they whip him? Arrest him?” My thoughts are interrupted by her erratic sounding questions. I think I half imagine the rising concern I hear in her voice, but then—

“No—well, just the once, but-” Gale starts to explain but she cuts him off, as if no longer listening.

“Peeta?” Her voice is louder now, sharp, with a kind of panic that I’ve heard once before, in the arena. I can hear her clearly all the way in the living room. I imagine her turning her head frantically.

She sounds terrified, like when we split up to find food and both heard the sound of a cannon and thought the other had been killed. But really it was the red haired girl, the one who ate the poison berries by mistake, who had died.

I’m halfway across the room in a heartbeat. Half panicked myself at the searching sound of her voice, and worried that she’ll hurt herself more if she distresses herself, and moves the wrong way.

“Peeta!” She calls a second time, but I’m already by her side, my feet having made the decision while my brain was still processing why she was calling for me so desperately.

Her face relaxes immediately, and the panic leaves her eyes. Up close she looks so small, and battered, laid out the smaller, and informal kitchen table way she is. Her feet just barely skim the edge of the table, and she has more than a foot of extra room on either side. But the space next to her is decidedly not as generous.

I’m practically side by side with Gale. Large man that he is, Gale has to shift to make room for me.

In the back of my head there’s a voice commenting on the tragic irony of it all. Me, displacing him because the bizarre and unpredictable circumstances of reapings have made me someone in her life, a strange kind of footnote, when really I never should have been a concern of hers at all. Him, giving way and making room, not because I’m anyone of real consequence, not when compared to him, but because he can’t bear to see her in any more pain or discomfort than she already is.

Still, there is this moment where I matter enough for her to ask, and that alone is strangely comforting, and validating. Six months ago I probably wouldn’t have even been an errant thought in her mind. But jointly surviving a gladiatorial contest to the death, and then teaming up to deceive an entire nation with a made up love story does bring people together in strange and unpredictable ways.

I know it won’t last long, this moment of fleeting concern. She’ll see I’m alive and she’ll settle down. She’ll ask for him again, or maybe she’ll just pass out. I’ll do the expected thing, the noble thing, and take my leave. The world will be right again. All of Gale’s fears and doubts will be soothed and forgotten. And I’ll be forgotten but that’s ok. Even if I’m left alone in my big cold, empty house, at least I’ll know she’s not alone. That someone who loves her is looking after her.

“Shh, shh, Katniss. I’m ok. I’m alive. I’m right here.” The words tumble out, comforting and familiar, and second nature to me. It's exactly what I would have said if she were waking up from a particularly bad nightmare on the train. But this is no bad dream. Even though the deep, vicious stripes carved into the skin of her back could have been summoned out of my worst night terrors.

Gale takes another, quick step away from us. It's reactive, like he’s stung by the familiarity, maybe even the intimacy in my tone. I feel a twinge of shame, and guilt for half a second before Katniss reclaims my full attention again.

“Peeta.” She breathes my name in a whisper so full of relief that my heartbeat stutters irregularly in my chest, before settling back into a normal rhythm. I feel like I can breathe again, now that I can see her dark, silky eyelashes flutter against her olive cheeks with my own eyes, and hear the soft husky way she says my name with my own ears. She’s alive. She’s alive and she’s not locked up somewhere, or on a train to the Capitol right now. Something very wrong in my world has been set right, and an indescribably huge relief settles into my bones.

She lowers her head back down to rest against the dark grained wood of the table, and my fingers twitch, restless and automatically reaching for her, but I myself stop before they get too far.

It must be uncomfortable for her, lying on her front, I note distractedly. She’s a side sleeper, and I wish I had thought to slip a towel or small pillow under her head when we were setting her down. Then I remind myself that it shouldn’t be my concern, her sleeping habits and her level of comfort. It's a vestige left over from the victory tour, the instinct to tend to her, see to her needs, to soothe with a touch or gesture.

It feels wrong to think these things, to anticipate in my head what she would want or need, with Gale looking on. It’s not really my place, and now that the tour is over and we’re back to reality. I need to remember we’re just friends. At best.

But then she goes and reaches for me all by herself, just stretches her hand in my direction like it's the most natural thing in the world.

And again my body makes the decision for me before my brain can finish listing the repercussions this will cause. Because there’s no universe in which Katniss reaches for me and I don’t take her hand, regardless of any prevailing wisdom or propriety.

“I thought I’d lose you for sure.” She whispers and I’m so stunned, all I can do is shake my head. She’s looking at me in a peculiar way. I wonder absently how much morphling they actually gave her.

“No,” Is all I can think to say, gently, once I finally get a hold of my ability to speak.

“You could have been killed. Stepping in like that.” She says, eyes locked on me, insistent, despite the odd angle of her looking up at me while lying stomach down on the table.

“I wasn’t. The only one who really got hurt was you.” I reply, disapproval bleeding through at the end, despite the knowledge that it would be disastrous to start an argument right now.

And not just for her health.

Something is happening right here, at this moment, something about the way she clutches my hand while she lies broken and bleeding on her kitchen table. Something oddly reminiscent of the way she had once looked at me when my fever was burning hot and furious inside my body when we were in the cave.

A large part of me has been operating under the impression that that look I remembered was a hallucination on my part. A made up fever dream. Especially after the argument on the train tracks when we first came home. When she told me it was an act.

But now—now I can see it wasn’t just a wishful figment of my imagination.

Katniss Everdeen really is looking at me right now like I’m something irreplaceable. Like I’m something she wants to protect. Something she couldn’t bear to lose.

Which is ludicrous. Totally ridiculous. She’s probably high out of her mind. Driven nonsensical by pain and drugs.

But that look. And the way her lips are trembling.

“You’ve got to take better care of yourself.” She warns.

I almost laugh.

My world feels like it's been turned upside down again, just when I thought I had gotten it straightened out. There’s a riot inside of me. Inwardly I’m a frantic, hopeful, confused mess. But outwardly, I’m calm.

“Look who’s talking.” I murmur, as I stroke her knuckle with my thumb. It’s almost absentminded but on some level I’m aware of it. I’m also aware of how inappropriate it is. But the need to comfort her is strong, so strong. I give her a reassuring smile. I remind myself she’s heavily medicated.

“You should rest.” I say, in as even a tone as I can manage, leaning in just a little to return her hand to the table. I’m not sure she should be stretching her arm out, or moving at all right now. I’m undoubtedly sure I shouldn’t be touching her like I’ve been, with her—whatever he is, in the room.

But when I turn in Gale’s direction to get an accurate assessment of just how badly I’ve overstepped my bounds, and fucked everything up, Katniss’ voice overrides my surprise at seeing we’re alone in the kitchen now.

“Peeta!” She says, in a very put out tone, but I’m still reeling over the fact that Gale had apparently left sometime while we were speaking before. I don’t know whether to feel relieved or guilty.

“Your face!” Katniss says, horrified, as she tilts her head up to get a better look at me.

And I remember the sting of the whip. The white hot burn that split my skin in half a second. The sure and unflinching hand of the new Head Peacekeeper. It had been dizzying, and disorienting. Not the worst pain I had ever felt, but overwhelming in its suddenness.

Katniss had felt that pain 12 times across her back before Haymitch and I intervened.

It still hurts a bit, and my eye is almost swollen shut, but it's unbelievable that Kantiss is concerning herself with my scratch after she almost got whipped to death.

“It’s nothing. Nothing at all. Your sister already treated it.” It's not really a lie, the snow Prim insisted I put on, did help. “I’ll be fine. It's you who needs to rest now, Katniss.” I say, trying to infuse sternness into my voice.

But she’s still looking at me with concern, and that concern is quickly morphing into an expression I recognize all too easily on her. Anger.

“Thread whipped you 12 times before we could stop him. This,” I say pointing to my face, “is nothing Katniss. Barely a scratch compared to what you went through.” I tell her as I restrain her hand from trying to reach for my face, I fold her fingers inward and return them to the table, but cover them with my own hand.

To keep her imobile, I tell myself.

“You all need to go. Get out of here and far away from me.” She says in a plaintive, almost babbling voice.

“Shh,” I murmur as I carefully stroke the hair away from the side of her face, when she begins to shake her head stubbornly.

“Peeta, you’ll all be killed because of me.” She whispers, voice full of dread.

“No one is going to die today Katniss. They’ve had their fill of blood. They won’t get another drop.” I vow. My tone sounds far more sure than I can realistically prove or promise.

But in the back of my head, the rational part of my mind, that isn’t preoccupied with the need to get this girl comfortable and resting again, knows that the gamemakers in charge have filled their quota for violence, for now.

Katniss seems to take my words at face value, and settles down a little. Or maybe she’s just exhausted.

Yet that part of me, the unapologetic strategist, starts turning the gears, and starts going over the scenarios as I watch her try to get comfortable again on the hard wood table.

Internally I know the consequences this day will bring, for both us, and Snow, could be far reaching. Publicly whipping your victors in the town square, while it may be a power move, it will not be a popular one. Here in District 12 or in the Capitol. Public sentiment still counts for something even in our totalitarian society. And that could be used to our advantage. It could be used to keep her alive. If Haymitch and I can just figure out how to frame it.

While I try to work it all out, the rest of me, the bigger part of me that is physically standing in Katniss’ kitchen, is in overdrive comfort mode. I peel off my jacket, and fold it in two, and then gently, as gently as I possibly can, I lift her head and tuck it under her. So that she doesn’t have to lay with her face pressed against the cold, hard, bare wood.

“Thanks,” She mumbles, as she presses her face into the fabric, and of all things, inhales deeply. And then sighs, like she’s greatly contented by the smell of it. I worry absently, that it might reek of nervous sweat, after I forgot to take it off while I waited to hear the verdict of whether her mother would be able to save her or not.

“Don’t mention it,” I half plead, still wanting her to go back to sleep, to simply rest and get better. I need her to be ok. Need it, like air, or water.

“Smells good, like bread. Like you.” She whispers, sleepily. Her eyes are starting to droop. I almost let out a noise, a moan or groan of relief, the tension that had begun to gather between my shoulders lessening, at seeing her so close to falling asleep.

“I’ve been running around all day. Probably stinks. You’re just too doped up to notice.” I joke, relieved and yet sad that this conversation is coming to an end. It's been strange, and wonderful, but also, not real. Probably the morphing talking on her part more than anything.

“Nuh, uh.” She refutes clumsily. “You always smell so nice.” She admits in a hushed whisper, like it's a secret. And from the way red floods her cheeks I start to think maybe it is a secret that she’s been keeping. Something she secretly likes about me, like the million-and-one not so secret things I like about her.

Huh.

I notice then that I’m tilting my head at her in confusion, and it's probably that odd expression that is keeping her from closing her silver-gray eyes.

So I clear my throat, and adjust my expression. Give her another reassuring smile. Her hand clenches the fabric of the jacket tightly, and she looks like she wants to say something.

“Won’t you be cold?” She asks, voice slightly slurred, as if her thoughts are muddled. I’m actually glad to be free of the thing. I was overwarm, here inside her house but hadn’t noticed yet, my mind too preoccupied with Katniss and her injuries.

“Don’t worry about the jacket, I’ll borrow something to walk home in.” I say, trying to reassure her again.

“No!” She nearly yelps, hand darting out to grab the edge of shirt.

“Please don’t go.” She implores needlessly. My feet are already moving, not towards the door, though. My hands pull out the chair her mother had been sitting in an hour ago. I plop myself down without ceremony, gathering her small, cold hand in my own and clenching it fiercely. She must be cold because of the snow they had to put on her back, but better to be cold and numb than for her to actually feel the stripes of pure fire the lash cut into her skin.

I remind myself to be gentle, to softly, slowly rub warmth back into her hand, her arm, to stop clinging to her like--like--

But she is the most important thing in my entire world. And I’ve never been very good at hiding that. So at her kitchen table, with her back shredded, and her hand clasped in mine, I stop trying to hide it.

My cheeks grow wet with the unshed tears I’ve been holding back for what feels like forever and I say, “Please, don’t scare me like that again. You have no idea what would happen to me, if something happened to you.” I practically beg, in a wrecked voice.

Her voice is thick with sleep, but her hand is steady and impossibly gentle as she brushes away a tear, near my swollen eye. “I think I might.” She says in a sad voice.

We stare at each other unblinking, revealed to each other just a little more in this raw, and painful moment. Why is it that all of our deepest interactions are marred by danger, tragedy, or pain? I muse internally, as her hand finds its way back to mine.

“Then you know, I’d be a disaster. Without you.” I say, laying myself bare, and not caring at the moment how vulnerable I sound, how much it could end up hurting later, to be this honest. We’re both hurt, and bleeding, from everything that's happened today. Hell, from what’s happened in the past year.

There’s no use pretending with her.

“Then stay, and I’ll try my best, not to get into any more trouble.” She says in a voice that sounds surprised. As if she wasn’t expecting the words to come out of her mouth. Almost as surprised as I feel actually hearing her say something like that to me out loud. But my response is quick, instinctual, I don’t even have to think about it.

“Of course,” The words are automatic. The way my feet are always automatically rushing towards her, hand automatically reaching for her. Like a compass pointing north. Like the earth rotating on its axis. Firmly established in its immutability.

“Always.” I add, because it doesn’t matter if she only wants me for comfort, as a constant. As if she knows I can do nothing but say yes to her, and anything she asks of me. An unfailingly predictable phenomenon. Like the sun rising in the east.

If it's only for tonight, this one moment in time, that she wants me, then here I’ll be. By her side, because there’s no digging this girl out of me. I’ve tried, and she will not budge. She knows she owns me, heart and soul, and here she is claiming me when she has no business doing so. When she should be receiving comfort from another, more acceptable source.

But that’s just another thing I love about her. Her absolute disregard for how things should be done.

Most people don’t go volunteering for the Games to save their little siblings, no matter how much they love them. Or running headlong into obvious danger to save half dead boys they hardly know. Or outwitting gamemakers with a handful of berries when they try to go back on their word. But Katniss Everdeen isn't like most people.

If she was, maybe I wouldn’t be so hopelessly lost at the thought of life without her near permanent scowl, or the firm press of her calloused fingertips, tracing invisible patterns into my palm.

“Mmm,” She murmurs, incoherent. She’s quickly being dragged under by exhaustion and the promise of sleep.

I lean forward and press a kiss to her forehead, lingering just a little.

Come morning this might all just be a hazy, morphing induced dream to her.

But right now, she needs me.

And I have never felt as alive as in these moments. When fate and circumstance conspire to make Katniss Everdeen reachable, and dare I say, attainable.

Yes, tomorrow it will be as if none of this ever happened. I’ll wake up and remember that she didn’t mean anything she said. It was just the medicine. Just the newest near death experience to add to the alarmingly fast growing list we’re compiling together.

But there’s a part of me that still wishes I could stop time and exist in this one moment.

My heart full of her halfhearted promise to try and stay alive, for my sake, and her hand dragging my mine closer, her lips pressing an unconscious kiss to my buzzing skin, as she nuzzles her face against my palm, and the rest of the world forgotten.

Forgotten, like all that matters is this.

And maybe that’s all that really does matter. That when it came down to it, it was my name she called, my hand that she reached for.

That in these crazy, unpredictable situations we keep finding ourselves in, we are for each other.

We stand unapologetically, unequivocally, together, despite whatever comes.

In that undeniable fact, I take comfort, and in the undisturbed, even breaths she takes as she sleeps, safe here by my side, finally.

#everlark #canon divergent #thg #fanfiction #lemonluvwrites #angst #hurt/comfort

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lostfracturess · 11 days

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wow nici. wow. i really don't what to say, feeling empty. firstly, i want to thank you for this chapter, the wait was so so much deserved! secondly, personally i think you've surpassed yourself with this chapter, it's incredibly good and feels like a separate story within the story. 😭😭😭 you're truly a writing genius, the way you describe emotions is agonizingly good, the actions, the dialogues, everything is on spot. i am applauding to you and your hard work!!!

I've said it already but i KNEW he would be up to something like that! of fucking course he decided everything for both of them and now drowns himself in pity, what a loser 😭 (i still love him and he's very dear to me and i pity him as well, but satoru 😭😭😭 are you for real????) actually i feel all of these things will be like a cold shower to him, a point of no return, it's whether he finally decides to do something or succumb to the mess and drugs fully. I hope for the first one ofc. everything is for him actually, he just has to take it, have some courage and let it. lose control for a little bit and then he should understand it's not anything bad with losing control to a person he trusts. nobody will break him 😩😭 (those who love him ofc)

and my reader girlie...i love her so so much, she's such a strong bold fierce defiant woman, I totally understand why satoru likes her, because how he couldn't??? please stop torturing her and all of us!!

and now to the quotes i wrote my thoughts as i read i thought it might be funny😭😭 might send it in parts as well, sorry 🙏

"Me, who knows how to soothe the invisible wounds, the ones even she denies exist. Me, who knows the soft words she needs to hear after it passes" DAMN NICI FROM THE START? WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME I AM REALLY AFRAID

"I didn't want to breathe anymore.

Not in a world where every breath ached without her" what if i jump out of the window ❤️

i don't know what to say rn but the way you describe his feelings is agonizingly beautiful

"She is everything.

Oh, sorry. Forgot. Past tense.

She was everything" who are you telling this bullshit rn NO ONE GONNA BELIEVE THIS, SHE IS AND WILL BE, IDC. I STAND FIRMLY ON THE GROUND.

"Let them drag my name through the mud, tarnish the reputation I'd worked so hard to build." my poor baby boy (let's forget he's a grown up man HE'S A BABY 😭😭😭) i want to hug him so much

yeah now his office is the same as his soul and heart all shattered and broken i am gonna die

I pinned him against the door. Forearm across his throat, crushing his windpipe. His eyes widened, but even then, there was that damn flicker of amusement" what kills me is he fucking knows how bad gojo is feeling rn and still he comes into his office to mock him... this ass doesn't even have some basic human sympathy, he chose the most vulnerable moment and stroke gojo AGAIN

"And there he was. Sukuna" YALL GOTTA HOLD ME BECAUSE I WILL KILL HIS FUCKING "ASS

"Or maybe," Sukuna drawled, pushing the knife deeper, "maybe you wanted to see where this goes. Stain her a bit, make her just a little bit more like you." SEE THAT'S WHAT I MEANT SHUT UP YOU USELESS PIECE OF SHIT YOU DON'T COST EVEN A FINGER OF GOJO 😭😭😭😭

ahhhh girl !! firstly thank you so so much for your overall support, so glad to have you as a reader but also thank you so much for your messages omg !! and you saying i surpassed myself with this chapter ?? i'm fainting 🫠🫠💔

and you're absolutely right, this is a major turning point. gojo's been hurtling down this path of self-destruction, rationalizing and avoiding at every turn, and now he's face-to-face with the devastating consequences of those choices. it's that cold shower moment you mentioned, where he can either start swimming or drown.

love your insight about losing control !! gojo's terrified of vulnerability, of trusting anyone enough to let go. he equates control with safety, with not being broken again, even if that means breaking himself in the process. but what he needs most – letting someone in, trusting them with his messiness and pain – is the very thing he fights against hardest. he's really stupid 💔

also so glad you like the female lead !! she's force of nature, fierce and unwavering even when her heart is breaking too. their dynamic is so complex and messy and utterly compelling. you're right, she's everything gojo needs and more. it's just a matter of whether he can finally get out of his own damn way. he's really stupid, again 💔

and omg, sending your live reaction quotes is fantastic!! that's honestly so much fun, getting to peek into your thought process as you're reading. it's so gratifying as a writer to see the moments that hit hardest 😭😭❤️

DAMN NICI FROM THE START? WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME I AM REALLY AFRAID

lol sorry hehe. but this is really so soft i can't 😭😭

i don't know what to say rn but the way you describe his feelings is agonizingly beautiful

so glad you like it, i spend a lot of time to decide on how to write these things and change sentences like 500 times, it's really hard work, so i'm so glad you appreciate it ❤️

what kills me is he fucking knows how bad gojo is feeling rn and still he comes into his office to mock him... this ass doesn't even have some basic human sympathy, he chose the most vulnerable moment and stroke gojo AGAIN

yes yes yes !! wanted to make sukuna really a bad person like he is in the jjk universe, someone who just thrives on chaos and the pain of others.

and sukuna knows how satoru is struggling with his addiction for years !! and still he's a dick about it because it amuses him. what a loser.

see you in part two lol ♡

#inbox

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mccall-muffin · 1 year

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Love vs. Hate - Part 22 // Joe Liebgott x OC

Summary: While Liv has to recover from her being hit, another Patrol is planned and First Platoon is leading it. The war takes more and more its toll on Liv's mental as well as physical strength.

Warnings: Language, War wounds, slight Angst

A/N: These chapters are really hard to write tbh. Takes its toll on me too ;) And sorry Babe!

Here is my Masterlist

Tags: @brassknucklespeirs, @liebgotts-lovergirl, @lieutenant-speirs

My head hurts. It feels like my brain is pulsating against the top of my skull. What happened? Slowly I try to open my eyes. Something is blocking my left eye, but I don't know what it is. When I finally open at least my right eye entirely and my left a little, the sun blinds me. Damn, how long have I been gone? Carefully I try to sit up, but now the pain spreads from my head to my whole body. Groaning, I sit on the floor and grab my head with my hand but immediately jerk back as a sharp pain jolts through my cheek. "Fuck," I grumble to myself.

Then it all comes back to me. We were attacked. I was going to join Joe and Alley in the foxhole, but... Something went wrong. I quickly push off the coat lying on me and examine my pants, but nothing is on them. However, when I run over my legs, I feel the wounds. "Fuck, did someone take off my pants?" I ask myself. Only now do I look around. I am in the CP. "Fuck," I mutter again and sit down on the edge of the barrier. Now the headache has come back. I prop my head up in my right hand and rub my forehead. And then I am overcome by nausea. I stumble out of the foxhole, fall on my knees, bend over and vomit into the snow. The buzzing in my head doesn't get any better. I wipe my mouth and sit back down.

"Well, look who finally woke up," I hear a voice, but I don't look up. I know it's Winters. "How long was I gone?" I ask, caring little for formalities right now. The pain is too big for that. "About three hours. Another hour and we would have taken you away." Now I look up and look the captain in the eye. "Well, Merry Christmas to me. How bad is it?" I ask, and Winters presses his lips together. "Dick, please. How bad?" Dick lowers his gaze before picking up a mirror and holding it to me. Hesitantly, I take it and try to look at myself.

I swallow once. A thick stitched wound is emblazoned under my left eye. My whole left eye is blue and swollen, and there is still blood in my hair. My lip is also cracked, and I look like I've just been god-awful beaten up. "Jesus Christ," I mutter. "It'll get better, Liv," Winters assures me. "Thanks for the pep talk, Dick, but this..." I point to the wound. "Will never go away. God dammit!" Winters takes a deep breath and looks down at the floor. "These aren't my pants," I say then, and Dick looks me in the eyes again. "No, they're not." Questioningly, I look at him. "You had all sorts of shrapnel in your legs, Liv. Doc had to treat the wounds and stitch some up. Your pants were useless, so I got you new ones." "Doc changed me...?" I ask, looking down at myself. "Don't worry... Joe changed them.“ "In front of you?" Dick looks at me with amusement. "I know you don't think I'm stupid, Liv..." "It's okay. I'm sorry, Dick." "Here," he then says and throws me my flask. "This was in your pocket, along with that." He puts something in my hand. When I open it, it's my compass. The one I got from Don, Penk, and Skip. When I open it, it has a slight crack in it. "Thank you," I say thankfully and look at Dick.

"Okay, let's send someone to the boys and let them know you are awake." "Oh, that's not necessary. I can go myself..." "No," he interrupts me immediately. "I want you to stay back here for a while. Not forever, but certainly for a few more hours." "But..." "That's an order, Sergeant!" "Yes, sir," I say immediately, hanging my head. "Do you have a pen, Captain?" I then ask, and he looks up in confusion. "I just want to write a few words to Don and Joe, nothing more," I say, and Dick takes a pencil out of his breast pocket and tosses it to me. "Oh, and can you let Doc know that I need something for the pain?" "Sure."

Don's POV: I sit convulsively in my foxhole with Bill. My thoughts keep circling back to Liv. We still haven't heard anything, and it's been hours. I'm starting to get worried. Doc came to see us an hour ago and said they'll take her away if she doesn't wake up soon. I sincerely hope that does not happen. I can't go on without her. "She'll be fine, Malark. Don't worry," Bill says when he sees my worried look. "I hope so, Bill... I hope so."

Suddenly we hear footsteps behind us then I see Doc coming toward us. He crouches down to us and looks at me. "What's the matter Doc? Is something wrong with Liv?" I ask immediately. Doc looks me in the eye for a moment. "She woke up..." "What?! And how is she?" "She has a headache, probably a concussion, but that's to be expected. Winters is keeping her back for a few more hours so she can recover. I just went to see her and checked her out. I expect she'll be her old self in no time." Relief spreads through me. "See, what did I tell you?" says Bill, putting a hand on my shoulder. "Here, I'm supposed to give you this. Do you know where Liebgott is?" Eugene then asks, holding out a piece of paper to me while holding a second one in his hand. "I think he had to take a piss," Bill breathes, "Okay, give this to him when you see him, will you?" We nod, and I take the second piece of paper as well. "What is it?" asks Bill when Eugene has disappeared. "It's from Liv."

I'm fine! Don't die, or I will kill you! Love you -L

I have to smile at her words. It's just Liv. "And what does she say?" "That I shouldn't die." Behind Bill, I see Joe coming back. "Hey Joe," I call out to him, and he comes over to us. "What's up?" he asks immediately. He, too, is worried about Liv. "Liv woke up. Here, this is for you," I say and hold the note to him. I can see relief in his eyes before he takes the message and disappears into his foxhole.

Joe, I'm fine. Please don't worry about me. I hope to be back with you soon! Thank you for everything! Love, -L

Liv's POV: When Dick finally lets me rejoin the others after several hours, I feel the stares at me. My eye is still swollen, and the scar looks terrible.

"Liv," I hear someone call after me, and I turn around. It's Buck walking toward me. I notice him falter briefly when he sees me. "How are you?" For a moment, I just look at him. "Are you sure it's okay?" I nod, then bite my lip. "It has to be." For a moment, we stand there. "Where's Don?" I ask, and he points his head toward the front. "Thanks," I say, turning away. "Liv?" he calls after me, and I turn to face him. "Yeah?" "Good to have you back." I nod and then continue walking.

I quickly find Bill and Don's foxhole. They are both asleep, and I slide into the hole with them. Don wakes up immediately and looks at me. "Holy shit!" he curses, waking Bill up and taking me in his arms. "You don't know how glad I am that you're okay." I force myself to smile as he pulls away from me. "You must have gotten something there," Bill says with a smile, and you raise an eyebrow.

Don eyes me, then grins. "You look like shit." "Wow. Thanks, Don!" I say, unable to suppress a small smile. He puts an arm around my shoulders. "Come on, sweetheart. You know what I meant."

After a while, I look toward Joe and Ally's foxhole, but I can't spot Joe anywhere, so I turn back to Don and Bill. "Where's Joe?" I ask, looking at the two of them, who exchange a look. "Guys?" I ask again emphatically, already imagining the worst. "Winters called him into HQ as a runner. After you got hit, he couldn't think too clearly, and it all got a little too much for him."

I look at Don and let his words run through my head. "He'll probably be there for a few days," Bill now adds, and I nod. "Okay... I uh... I'll head to First Platoon, then," I mutter, climbing out of the foxhole. "Liv? Take care of yourself, okay?" I nod and then join the others.

I last saw Joe a few days ago. Dick kept him behind all the time, but at least he was safer there than at the front. Still, it hurts not to see him.

I received a few pills from Doc that should help if the headache gets too bad. However, he pointed out to me that I should only take them if they were unbearable since he doesn't have any more of them.

That's easier said than done because regularly, it feels like my skull is about to explode, and nausea overcomes me again and again.

January 1st, 1945 - Bastogne, Belgium

With folded arms, I stand leaning against the jeep and listen with half an ear. I don't believe all this holy crap anymore. The priest had just finished the service. "Fight well for God and your country. God bless you all. Stay safe." I snort in amusement and shake my head. "You're not much of a believer, are you?" asks Peacock, who has come to stand beside me. "Why should I, after God gave us all this?" "Point taken."

"That's it. Nothing to worry about. We die now; we die in a state of grace. Isn't that right, Babe?" Muck shouts, and I have to

I later round up the guys and explain everything about the planned patrol. "We go until we make contact."

"Peacock's leading," Bull mutters, looking over at Peacock. "That asshole couldn't find a snowball in a blizzard," George adds, and I look at them both. "Stop it now, George. He's not leading - I am," I say, and they both look at me. "Oh hey, Liv. You sure? We don't wanna screw up that pretty face any more than it already is." "Luz, just shut up, okay?"

"Sarge?" then Julian walks up to me. "Julian." "Let me be the lead scout." I exchange a quick glance with Johnny, who raises an eyebrow. "Back in line, private," he says, and I nod. "Move out. Tactical columns, men."

Behind us, I see Gene about to join the patrol, but I stop him. "Gene, it's a combat patrol. Why don't you stay back and keep out of trouble?" He looks at me for a moment, then nods. "Yes, sergeant." "Right. Move out. Go."

We walk silently in one direction for a while. Again and again, I exchange glances with Johnny, who seems as tense as I am. Suddenly, we hear gunfire aimed at us. "Fire! Get down! Get down!" I shout, and we take cover behind some logs. "Shit!" I quickly realize that one of our men is hit and completely caught in the crossfire.

"Johnny! We got a man down!" I call out to him and then see that Julian was shot in the neck but is still alive. "Fuck!" I curse. "What have we got?" shouts Johnny back over the noise. "Kid's down," I call, and he looks past me at the bleeding Julian. "We gotta make a move."

"I can get him, sarge," Babe calls out, lying on the floor in front of me. I nod at him. "Suppressing fire! Suppressing fire," I shout to the men.

Babe somehow tries to get to Julian, but the Krauts reopen fire every time he scrambles forward. "Stay there. Don't move. Stop moving, or they'll keep shooting," he shouts at his friend. "Babe, for fuck's sake!" I now yell at him, who keeps trying. "I can do this!" Babe assures me, but I see black.

"What's happening, Liv?" Johnny then calls out to me, and I give him a slightly exasperated look. I have the decision to make. "We're pulling back. We made contact," I then call out. "I gotta inform Peacock!" Babe's shocked look hits me as he hears my words. But then he turns back to Julian. "Don't move. Don't move, or they'll keep firing. Stop moving!" "God dammit!" I curse again as the fire doesn't diminish. I also fire again in the direction of the Germans.

"Fuck. Sarge, what--?" Babe then shouts, but I interrupt him. "Pull back! We gotta pull back!" Johnny nods and grabs the first soldier next to him. "Let's get the hell out of here! Let's go!"

"Come on, stay with us. Hold on! Stay with us! Look at me. Stay with us! Hold on," Babe still calls out to Julian, making no move to retreat. "Babe, move! Now!" I shout to him, but he ignores me.

"Don't move; we're coming back. We'll get you out of here. Hold on." Now I grab Babe by the collar and pull him to his feet. "Go. Let's go! On me, move! Come on, let's go." I push him in the direction of the others, and reluctantly he allows himself to be pushed. "Come on, Babe!"

"Where the hell are we?" shouts Johnny a little later, and I look around. "Straight ahead. Straight ahead."

I walk right up to Peacock when we return to the others. "Tom, we got a casualty," I inform him, and Johnny stands beside me. "Who?" he asks immediately, looking at the men. "Julian. He got hit in the neck. He was still alive, but we had to pull back. We made contact at the enemy line," I explain to him. Meanwhile, he turns to George. "Okay! Set the radio up on the rock." George executes the order, and Peacock radios into the CP. "Easy CP. Easy CP. Lightning, over. I need a jeep at the CP. Eyes sharp!"

A short time later, Peacock is gone, and suddenly Winters comes up to us. "Martin? Liv!" We both look up. "Sir?" asks Johnny, and Winters looks at us before spotting Babe, standing behind us but still entirely out of it. "What's going on?" "They got Julian," Johnny says. "He's alive. We gotta get him," Babe interjects, and I give him a stern look. "We don't know that," I say sharply.

"Did you hit an OP or their line?" Winters asks. "Their line." "We gotta get Julian!" Babe says again, and I give him another admonishing look. "No! Now fall back." "Where's Peacock?" asks Winters then. "At the CP," Johnny says, and Winters looks thoughtful. "We couldn't get to him, captain. Babe tried. We couldn't get to him," I say, hanging my head.

Winters nods understandably and then tells us all to pull back. My gaze wanders to Babe, who gives me a disappointed look. I suspect he blames me for not being able to get Julian. I take a step toward him. "Babe..." I say, but he immediately turns away.

Johnny puts a hand on my shoulder. "He'll get over it," he says, trying to smile at me encouragingly. I rub my eyes for a moment, then sigh. "I don't know what he expects me to do. He would have died just the same if I had let him go. It was an impossibility." "I know that, Liv. And Heffron knows that, too. Give him time." I hang my head, then nod.

#Band of Brothers #Joe Liebgott x OC #Joe Liebgott #Don Malarkey #Babe Heffron #Band of Brothers fanfic #Bobedit #hbo war #hbo series #bob #Joe Liebgott fanfic #Part 22 #Love vs. Hate

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amanitaoneday · 1 year

Text

One day I reminisced about the past

S A T U R N

"I don't get you alright?" She walked away from me, clearly frustrated. I should care more but I couldn’t. "I know you're a good person and I know you mean well but I can't keep waiting for you to come back late at night. What are you even doing when you're gone?" I couldn't answer. I felt like this had happened before.

'What are you even doing?'

"I'm sorry. I just need to get air sometimes."

'You always come back smelling like a bar.'

"Saturn I've given you the benefit of the doubt and trusted you but you can't keep leaving me." She stood there crying. I wanted to comfort her but it felt like my feet were glued to the floor.

'Why are you getting mad at me? I asked you a simple question!'

"I'm sorry." She sighed.

'Then just leave me alone if you wanna be like that!'

"So am I."

His words echoed in my head as if these moments were similar but I didn’t want them to be.

"Mr? Mr!" I groaned.

"Mia leave him alone." That voice.

"Why’s he sleeping on your bed? Is he your-"

"Miss Mia thank you for reminding me to walk you to the bus!" I smiled.

I heard feet shuffle then a door open and close. I slowly sat up and looked out the window.

"It's snowing?" Will he be okay? He doesn’t even like the snow.

I sat on the couch and grabbed my computer dragging it to my lap already feeling unwilling to work. I stared at the empty page trying to think but honestly my brain is empty.

"You're still here? I'm shocked honestly." I sighed. I felt something weigh my shoulder down slightly. “What are you doing?" I turned slightly and saw him lift his head up. “Are you writing again?”

"I don't write." He smirked. “I’m serious." He patted my shoulder then walked away.

"You don’t need to hide it from me." I heard him say under his breath. "Don’t be an ass." I put my laptop to the side and turned back to see him flipping me off.

He rounded the couch and sat next to me. "Why don't you take a nap?" He yawned. "It'll help you be nicer." He closed his eyes.

"Don't you have a painting due today?" He opened his eyes. He looked at me with wide eyes.

"Shit yeah I'm surprised Tessa’s not blowing up my phone." He got up quickly and walked to the door.

"Coat!" He’s so forgetful.

He stammered, "I-i know I was just grabbing my keys!" He wasn't. He made an annoyed face towards me before grabbing his coat. "Don't bother me and go back to whatever you were doing." Then he walked out.

Sometimes I like to write in this blog where other people vent and share things they were thinking about that day. I used to write in high school but I don’t write as much lately since-

I sighed and rubbed my face in frustration.

'Have you ever felt useless like a paper crane-'

‘Stupid.’ I repeatedly pressed the backspace.

'Growing up always felt like an ocean. Empty but full of things that are unknown even to us-'

It’s definitely been a few years since I've written all deep and poetic. That’s how it was in high school at least.

I groaned and pushed my laptop to the side again. It’s no point I haven't written in years and all my ideas are something a middle schooler would write. Taking a nap might help?

"It's nice to finally meet you! Saturn was it?" This lady seemed cheerful.

"Yes it's great to meet you-"

"Lily! I'm Sock's mother. It's nice to finally meet one of his friends. I was starting to believe he made you up." She wore a big smile. She seemed super nice and outgoing, very different from Sock. Almost makes me wonder how she’s his mother.

"Mom who was at the door?" This girl peeked her head out of the corner.

"Your brother's friend. Laurie, can you show him to Sock?" She furrowed her brows like she was mad to see me then walked away.

It seemed like she didn't want me here.

"Sorry about her, she doesn't like people. Socks' room is upstairs down the hall on the right." I nodded and noted to myself to follow the instructions so I wouldn’t get lost. Their house was bigger than mine.

"Thank you." I walked by her and up the stairs. I stood at the top looking around.

It was dark and empty.

Do they always keep their house this dark? My sister always leaves the lights on so this is kind of scary compared to the constant light I see. I sighed and made it to the room Lily told me. I opened the door but no one was in there. I turned to the side hearing voices in the door next to his.

"-don't! Just leave!" Out came Sock then the door slammed shut. When he turned and made eye contact with me his eyes widened and he gave a shy smile.

"Let's go to my room! I have to-" he started coughing. "I have to show you my dinosaurs!" He continued saying. He started talking really fast like he wanted to change the conversation.

"Are you sick?" He turned and furrowed his brows.

"No I don't think so." Maybe he's never gotten sick before?

His cheeks were flushed and he would cough slightly every once in a while. He grabbed my hand and pulled me into his room.

"Come come! This is my desk! And my rug! And my dino-" He started coughing. I was concerned but he said he wasn't sick.

I'm not sure he knows what it means. Surely he's gotten sick before. How could he have gone this long without getting sick?

I pulled him to his bed and told him to lay down and that I'd take care of him.

"You don't feel good right?" He shrugged. I sighed then got in the bed and snuggled under the covers with him. "Don't move or it'll make it worse. My dad says nothing good comes with getting sick. I'm not sure what that technically means but I assume it's not great." He turned and smiled. That's when I noticed he had a bandaid on his cheek.

"I don't get what it means either but if you think it's bad then I think it's bad too." He said with so much confidence.

"What happened to your cheek?" He furrowed his brows then widened his eyes.

"My cat scratched me!" He said all worried. "He’s big and scary but he's very nice." But he told me he doesn't like cats. I don't think he even has a cat. "You're making a weird face." I gave him a soft smile.

"Next time it scratches you then tell me and I'll protect you." I wanted to protect him. I don't believe he got scratched by a cat but if he's telling me it was a cat then I'll believe him for now.

"Hehe big brave Saturn coming to m-" He started dozing off. "Hero-" He fell asleep.

I looked around and just noticed how dark the room was too. The curtains were closed except for the little bit of sun shining through.

"-ket? Hello?" I quickly opened my eyes. "I asked if you needed a blanket. You looked cold sitting here, your eyebrows looking angry with your crossed arms." I was greeted with grey eyes staring back at me.

"What? No, I'm not cold." I sat up and rubbed my eyes. "Did you finish your painting?" He groaned then sat down next to me slumped in the seat.

"I got halfway through then Tessa just had to call me and tell me to hurry up and now I don't wanna finish it." He hates being told what to do.

I could tell he was reluctant to talk to me about me being gone and why I left. I could tell by his mannerisms and how he made small talk with me. It's like he's here but in his mind he's distancing himself from me.

He used to never do this but I guess this is what I get for being gone for two years.

"How was your nap?” I made eye contact with him but he looked away quickly. “It's been a couple hours." He rested his chin on his knees and started messing with the bandages on his arm.

It's not like I couldn't tell he was sad with me. I've known him for years obviously it's natural I would know something was wrong. He probably thinks I’m going to leave again; maybe that's why he's been on edge around me? He never fully looks at me just like if I was a ghost that maybe if he ignored my gaze I would go away

"Tiring." I looked away and started messing with my fingers. Maybe whatever I was thinking was useless like all the other thoughts. I might just give up on writing after all.

"You're making a weird face." I turned and saw his grey eyes staring back at me.

"No sorry I was just thinking." He squinted at me before turning away. He hunched over his knees again.

"You don’t need to tell me everything, I don’t expect you to.” He turned to the side where I couldn’t see him. “I know things have been awkward but I know no matter how hard I hope for us to go back to the way we were before you left I just can’t.” He spoke softly as if he was hoping I wouldn’t hear him but how could I not? "I should get back to my painting.” He groaned and changed the subject. “I don't wanna do this." And now he's complaining.

I decided to not say anything about it.

"You had two weeks to finish one painting. You're just now doing the painting." He flopped on the couch being dramatic.

Maybe he really didn’t want me to hear and if I said something he would push himself further away and I don’t think I could handle that right now.

"Fine, I'll finish it. This is the last you'll hear of me. I'm done talking." After that he didn't say anything. He grabbed his coat and walked out leaving me alone with my thoughts.

"They want you to write for their old blog?” She smiled at me. “I remember reading your stuff in high school! I really loved the very detailed piece you wrote when you were-" I shook my head.

"Don’t say what I think it is." She rolled her eyes and smiled. “I haven’t written in years. It was just a hobby back then and I’ve been busy lately with modeling and-.” She sighed. I could tell she really wanted me to do this. I know it wouldn’t turn out well but I knew she thought differently.

"The parties?” I looked away not wanting to admit that. “Your pieces when you were in high school were beautiful.” She was still hopeful. “Look it doesn't matter what you write as long as it's good and from your heart. They remember you, that has to count for something?” I rolled my eyes at my manager. “Even if it was just a hobby it was something people looked forward to. It’s up to you to write for their blog but I know it would turn out great."

I have a hard time believing people would actually like my writing. Part of me thinks they don’t actually want a piece from me and they’re just doing this because they haven’t heard of me in forever. Maybe I should just push it to the side and focus on writing?

I sighed then grabbed my laptop yet again today.

"I said not to open them!" He hid under the blanket.

"Boys, what is going on?" I turned and saw Lily.

"Curtains! Saturn opened the curtains!"

"Well Sock is a crybaby." He came out from under the blanket and gave me an angry look.

"Well you're a jerk!"

"Okay stop calling each other names! Saturn we're going to close the curtains. Sock you're going to apologize for yelling." After that we reluctantly made up and laid in his dark room. He kept his back turned on me.

"Why don't you wanna see the snow?" He didn't say anything. "You can trust me, you know? I thought I was your friend?" He turned around and looked at me as if he was about to cry.

"You are my friend." He hugged my arm. "I'll tell you but it's silly so don't laugh!" I nodded.

I wouldn't make fun of my friends.

'When it snowed you could see the smiling children, the cold and tired ones, and the playful ones but they never tell you about the sad ones.'

"You don't wanna play outside? A lot of kids our age would kill to play outside." I peeked outside to see kids throwing snowballs at each other.

"I don't like the snow. I get sick easily, remember?" But that wasn't the reason why.

'The ones that lock themselves away when they see a glimpse of the white freckles outside, the ones that hide in fear. Maybe returning memories that were once forgotten or ones that were never forgotten to begin with.'

"One day I'll make you go out and play in the snow with me." He looked up from his food with this look in his eye.

"That'll be the day I forget." I furrowed my brows. "And when I'm happy again."

"I thought you were always happy. We're you lying to me?" His cheeks flushed red. He put his head down and continued to eat.

"I am when I'm with you so maybe if I went out with you it wouldn't be so bad."

'The ones that locked themselves away wouldn't forget though, that feeling of fear and sadness whenever they saw the first drop of snow.'

"Peeking through the curtains isn't going to make it stop snowing just cause you wished it would." He turned to look at me with wide eyes.

"N-no I was just double checking." He walked away from the window and came back to the bed. He sniffled and coughed lightly.

"You're already getting sick?" He turned away from me.

"I don't wanna get you sick." He always gets me sick.

'They would be the hopeful ones but just hoping it would end.'

I walked in his room to see him lying in bed staring at the blank wall.

"Bad day?" He moved just his eyes up to see me then looked back at the wall. "Wanna cuddle?" He nodded slightly. He turned and moved towards the wall making room for me to get in.

"Was it 'the cat'?" He didn't say anything but I knew he knew what I was talking about. His silence always spoke louder than any words he's said. His silence was scary sometimes. If he wasn’t yelling at me then I knew something was wrong. It scared me.

He gripped my arm. He brought it closer to himself. All I heard were the soft hums from the heater and his sobs he tried to silence.

"It's okay. You can let it out." He turned to face me and hugged me so tight I thought I’d stop breathing. I didn’t mind though if it meant I was with him.

'It would eventually end but never when they wanted. The sad never win. There will always be the stories about the happy kids but never the sad ones.’

"Tessa didn't call and I finished the painting on time so she should be pretty happy with m-" I closed the laptop and turned to face him.

"You look nice." He furrowed his brows. His cheeks flushed red and he turned away from me.

"You're weird." He quickly went to the kitchen to avoid me.

“What are you looking for?” He sighed and took his shoes off. He slowly made his way towards me and sat next to me.

We sat in silence like we had done so many times. At this point it was getting frustrating.

I don’t know why he is the way he is or why our brains are hard to understand. I want to know him better even though I’ve had so much time to get to know him already. I wish things were different.

“You look nice too.” He nudged me. “Jerk.” Any doubts I had were gone and I felt like part of me was okay with him like when we were kids.

“I want to tell you things and I want to go back the way we were but-” He stared at me like I said something wrong. “-but I know-”

"No.” He got up and started walking to his room. “Now isn’t a good time to talk.” Then he left me by myself again.

Suddenly my doubts returned and I remembered we were not kids anymore and he's still mad at me.

“It never is.”

#writing #my story #oc #short story #angst #ocs #own character #original story #my writing #one day #chapter 3 #lgbtq

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sturkillerbase · 2 years

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Hello friends!! It's been a while. A very long while, I know...

I'm writing this to tell you all that's happened in my life that stopped me from coming back here. I'll be tagging my closest mutuals, but feel free to not read this if you don't want to. Sorry in advance because it's going to be a long one :/

First of all, if any of you are upset or disappointed or frustrated with me for vanishing, I completely understand, and it's okay.

Back in June, the first week of it, I got quite sick, and my mind wasn't in the best of places. I thought a week or two off would be enough. But then, inthe middle of that period, I got a terrible flu. I had never had a flu episode like that in my whole life, and even my mom was scared. It was so bad I also ended up with otitis and sinusitis. We spent so much in doctors and medicines, and I actually to this day need sinus medicine. It's only been a couple weeks since I've felt 100% well. Well, all of that took me an entire month.

Since I was so sick, I was on my bed for the entire two weeks. I only left the house to go to the doctor and a few times in my backyard to get some fresh air. I also had no energy to talk to people, weather in person or online. So, as you can imagine, I had A LOT of time to think on my own. Which led to overthinking the most trivial things and, unfortunately, the absolutely not trivial things as well. I've always been depressed, and this led me down into a well of despair, sadness, emptiness and all that comes with it. I was feeling like a used, dirty, old rag thrown into a dark corner.

Now we get to July. Despite my depressed state, I apply to the cinema postgraduation I've been waiting for since January, and I start making plans for my tumblr comeback. Then, I have MAJOR issues with the institution and its website. The website subscription page does not recognize the email I applied with. Without being able to log in to the page, I can’t complete my application, because I can't send the documents they require. I get in touch with them. The first people I talk to are completely useless, and send me copy-pasted instructions that don’t help at all. I then find another way of contacting them. They now know about it and say they'll fix the issue. Well, the entire month of July goes by, with me contacting them and them not solving the issue. They only halfway fix it when I tell them I'll be contacting the consumer's defense system (the institution is a private one so I can sue them for this ridiculous situation and stress they put me under), since I've been with this issue since July 1st, and it was now August 1st, AND classes began on the 9th. I don't know exactly what the woman on the other side did, but suddenly I can access the student area and finally send the required documents. I was so stressed through the entire month, there was no way I had enough peace of mind to come back to my blog. And I didn't want to come back just to complain and be angry.

But all is good now right? The degree of my dreams was about to start. I finally felt I had a purpose in life. I admitted to myself I was mentally worse than I thought I was, and that allowed me to start working on getting better. I get the urge to start illustrating again, something I love but hadn't done since January. Things are going just FINE.

Until they don't.

On August 3rd I'm informed the post grad classes won't be happening this trimester because there wasn't enough quorum. I'll have to wait until the next class, in October. After all that stress they made me go through for a whole month...

My mind crashes again. I'm back to the starting point, which, to me, feels like a loser's point.

But FINE! I'll wait. It'll happen, just not now.

Fast forwards to last Friday, August 12th. I was happy. I went to my friend's birthday party and I had fun. My friend and I have a trip scheduled for next week. I chose nice stuff at the supermarket for a nice Father's day dinner (this year it was on August 14th here in my country).

Then, last Friday, during dinner, my dad decides to be an ass. He says the most stupid shit he's ever said. I've always had issues with him but things had been doing well lately. But he just had to ruin it all.

So now here I am. My mind is fucked up again. I couldn't bring myself to wishing him a happy father's day or even giving him a hug. Well, how can I after his last episode of not wanting to be a proper father who fulfills the basic things he's supposed to as a parent? Plus accusing of things I had never done or said?? I'm angry. I'm upset. This makes me sick and gives me a headache. I feel like punching a punching bag for an entire week at least.

I'm truly hoping this 4 day vacation, away at a beautiful place, with people I like, will ease my mind. After that, I'll be back here with all that I'm in debt with you.

I'm sorry this is so long. I'm sorry I've been away, with no apparent signs of coming back. I haven't been a good friend to you here on tumblr. But I hope you'll understand I had no energy left to be here. English is not my first language, so even thinking in it was overwhelming to my already overworked and over exhausted brain.

I want to thank @scorpio-marionette and @boliv-jenta for not giving up on me; I've seen all of your notifications, and although my mind was too far away for interacting, my heart was warmed everytime I got a notification from you.

I also want to thank all of you who'll be understanding of this messy situations. I don't hope or wish for forgiveness or pity. I wrote this because I wanted to let you know of it all.

I do love you all, and never stopped for a moment. I've missed all of our interactions, and I'm looking forward to getting back here and making new lovely memories with you. As I've mentioned a while ago, the best thing that I've ever done and that ever happened to me was joining the Pedro Pascal fandom, because I had never met people that are so, SO lovely, kind, comprehensive and talented!!

Sending you all all my love and best wishes,

Ana 💖

@scorpio-marionette @boliv-jenta @darth-voder @supernaturalgirl20 @misspearly1 @mandoblowmybackout @becksxoxo @littlemisspascal @oonajaeadira

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ihavesomeflowers · 9 months

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26/07/23

My goodness. I can't believe it's been so long since i've written here, I kind of forgot about it. Sorry, past me!

Well, I know i won't be frequent on here anymore because going on my PC just isn't something I can do daily anymore, which is sad. I'll still check in from time to time though, or at least try to.

It would be kinda useless to try to sum up everything that happened since I was last here so I guess I'll write some cool things I'm proud and/or happy about! First off, my gf and I have been together for more than a year now! We're 14 months together this month and it's been amazing. Today specifically we had a rough day, or, I did. I won't go into too many specifics but i was very sad because of them. The day was coming to a close and we finally talked a bit about it, not as much as I would have liked but it was better than nothing, and we ended the night alright. I actually ended up crying as she was being so sweet to me when we were saying goodnight and considering we won't be able to spend all that much time together the next four days, i'm very glad we ended today on a good note, I really love them.

Another thing, I started crocheting!! I just impulsively decided to start one day and here we are, i guess. It's a lot of fun really, the only thing stopping me right now is my lack of yarn as I need to go out and buy more. Yarn is expensive :(. Other than that though, i'm having so much fun and I am so so excited to start so many projects to gift them to my loved ones! I can't wait to start on all of them.

Have I mentioned I love cats? Well, I love cats. My first cat is Luna. She is the cutest litthe baby! (Don't mind that she's almost three now haha). Then came Jesus, don't mind the name my mom chose it, and now...we have a new kitten! We adopted her some months ago, she's a real baby and she is very cute as well. But what cat isn't, right?

The last big share of the day is that i'm foing on a trip tomorrow! We are going with my family to another province to check out the university I'll be going to next year (I'm so nervous!) and we'll be staying there for like 4 days. Hopefully the trip isn't too bad and hopefully i can buy some more yarn.

Maybe i'll check back once i'm back, not sure yet. Either way, I'll be taking my leave for now. Until next time!

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catholicfacade · 2 years

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WIP Clark DeBussy Fic Preview

good evening, it's ego. i've decided to post some snippets of the clark fic i've been working on for like a month now! i'm a whore for praise and figured posting some of my personal favorite paragraphs i've written so far publicly might keep me motivated to write more often. i have not written or posted fan fiction in like 8 years and i often get quite discouraged when it comes to my own writing. i'm trying not to let that happen as much with this one since i've been really enjoying it, but i still have soooooo much to write!! so if you don't hear about this again for a while, don't think i gave up on it, i just have a lot i want to write about, and it takes me forever to do so </3

including the tags and warnings and plot points, everything you read below this line is completely subject to change before the final draft eventually gets posted >:) ——— ♰Synopsis: this fic follows the legion plot fairly closely but there is some divergence from cannon; completely gender-neutral reader is a mutant similar to David, where David's powers mostly deal w the conscious mind, readers deals w the subconscious mind, reader is mute irl but can talk in their dreams, has been through serious traumas in their life, Clark is secretly very lonely but acts tough 99% of the time, the relationship between reader and Clark can only be described as lovers to enemies to lovers to enemies to lovers again. ♰Tags: porn with plot, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, rough sex, lots and lots of heavy petting, pet names (literally) ♰Warnings: NSFW, dubious consent, sexual violence, choking, low self-esteem/poor mental health, mentions of drug use/pill popping

———

((interrogation scene))

“Readings are normal Mr.DeBussy.” Announces the guard that was watching the graphs on the monitor next to you.

“It’s probably because we’d need to catch you sleeping, isn’t that right?” Clark stares you down with a little smirk on his face.

You shrug.

Don’t give him anything. You remind yourself.

Don’t let him try and break you down.

“Well…” Clark snaps his file closed, he lays it down along with his pen and claps his hands together in front of him.

“…you’re officially useless!” He smirks again. A couple of the guards behind you stifle a laugh.

Something boils inside of you. But you don’t let them see that. If only you would be kind enough to show them what their big, mean, tough boss dreams about! A house by the ocean, a sappy long lost lover, a puppy like need for affection. Oh how he melted in your hands like butter. Maybe then they’d know who to laugh at.

“Go ahead and take them away, bring in the next one.” Clark says, and the two guards behind you move to your chair, they rip the scanners from your temples and haul you up by your arms. You never once break eye contact with Clark. He knows he’s a fucking liar and you wished that he would just show you something, some sign, that he was sorry or that he had to act big and tough for show. But Clark gave you nothing. His eyes were as fiery and steadfast as yours were.

You decided you hated him. You shouldn’t have even felt anything for him after just a couple of dreams anyway. He was just like the others. He didn’t love you, he just loved your power (ironically enough). That’s it. Clark DeBussy. He’s just like the rest of them.

———

((dream sequence part 1))

Just as you were about to turn around and walk to Clark’s side of the room, you felt a pair of arms wrap around you. One snaked around your waist, the other around your neck, both held you In place with an iron grip, leaving you completely unable to turn or look behind you. His front was pressed flush against your back, his breath already hitting your ear and sending a chill down your spine. You gasped softly, hands reaching up to grab the arm at your throat.

“Promise me you won’t turn around.” Clark whispered close to your right ear.

You chewed your bottom lip, and after a minute of contemplating, you nodded, the idea that you can actually talk in dreams slipping your mind temporarily.

The arm around your neck was now moved to match the other one on your waist, bringing your hips back with a bump against his groin. You gasped again when you could feel his throbbing erection through his pants, pressed into your ass. Your hands reached down and laid flat against the top of the dresser steadying yourself, the cool surface just underneath your palms. God you wanted to look back right now, but you kept your promise and looked forward.

You could barely even process the fact that Clark was here, which meant he was alive out there in the world somewhere, before his hands were on you, touching and groping you everywhere. His fingers slipped under your shirt and pressed a heavy line tracing up your spine, you arched your back into his touch. His other hand grabbing the tender flesh of your ass hungrily. You couldn’t stifle the ‘mmmpf’ that escaped your lips sounding like half a whimper, half a moan. Your eyes fluttered shut as you dropped your head.

“C-Clark…please….” you manage to whisper.

You wanted to beg for so many things at once that you couldn’t get any of your words out. You wanted to see him, you wanted to know he was okay, you wanted to scream at him for the way he treated you, you wanted to ask him why he came back, you wanted to ask ‘why me’?

“Careful…” Clark said is a dangerously low voice, his left hand snaking up your spine even further, tangling into the hair on the back of your neck and pulling it hard enough to lift your head back. You let out a groan and bit the inside of your cheek.

“…you keep begging for me like that sweetheart and I’ll have you on your knees in no time.” He pressed a kiss into the side of your neck, his lips felt different, rough and uncared for, the corner of them felt rubbery and raised in a strange way, like a blister. It made you furrow your brows together.

“I want to see you.” You said bluntly.

“You just promised me-“

“I want to see you Clark.” You’re more firm, even with his hand still tangled in your hair you’re trying to stand up to him. The hand quickly leaves your head, letting you gain control over your movement again and you let out a sigh.

A small gap forms between your bodies now, he’s taken a step back. You can feel his eyes still on you, burning, never leaving you unwatched. And then more steps back, but there’s something else there, a distinct third tap of something wooden as he takes a step and another and another, until you hear the soft fabric on the bed shift and then settle under him.

“Walk backwards to me. I want you to sit in my lap.” Clark’s voice doesn’t give away anything, and you wished you could slip into his mind and just figure out for yourself what he’s thinking about. But you feel his unconscious body is somewhere too far away, and without direct eye contact, it’s difficult to find out what’s going on in there that he’s not letting on.

So you follow his instructions, taking a careful step back, another careful step back, and on the third one you bump into him, he guides you to sit between his long legs, and you can see his pants finally. They don’t look any different than the other suit pants he’s worn before, just a deep maroon color this time.

So you sit up straight in his lap with your hands on your knees, the heat of his crotch still haunts your backside and makes you gulp.

“Close your eyes.” He whispers, and you close them, as you do so, he places his head against your shoulder and his arms around your waist again. You can feel so much more of his face now, at least you think it’s his face. It’s that same rubbery feeling like before, the plane of his skin is uneven against your thin shirt, and he feels a bit feverish.

“Go ahead and picture a mirror in front of us.” He says softly.

So you do, you picture a mirror on the wall across from you, one big enough to see the both of you. When you open your eyes to it, you can only see yourself for the most part. Behind you pokes out that salt and pepper hair you so desperately love. That maroon suit continues upward to the sleeves of his jacket, a hint of a deeper purple shirt underneath the cuffs on each wrist. His hands are around you, one looks the same as the last time you saw it, while the other looks like it’s hurt somehow. You squint to get a better look at what’s going on with it.

Clark slowly reveals his face now, resting his chin on your shoulder, catching your gaze in the mirror. You stare back at him wide eyed, your jaw coming slightly unhinged as you try to soak him in.

———

((dream sequence part 2))

“Clark?” You sidle up closer to him, petting the blistered skin on his bad side with a feathered touch.

“Yes baby?” He hums sleepily, his eyes are still closed, his fingers lightly trace nonsense shapes onto the skin of your back.

“Are you…” You hesitate.

“…safe?”

The question immediately feel like it shouldn’t have been asked, it’s almost too intimate, even after what you two just did. You sink with regret as Clark’s fingers stop suddenly against your back.

“With you still in the world, no one is safe.”

He plants a kiss on your forehead before turning away from you. The room grows dimmer now, the last few minutes of sunset masking your view in a glow of total red. You can’t move, your body is completely frozen over like ice. You can see your vision go blurry, and a wetness falls down your cheek as you stare into the twisted knots of scabbed over flesh along Clark’s shoulder. In this lighting they seem to breathe when he breathes, like they’re their own entity, separate from the rest of his body. It horrifies and amazes you all at once. You bite your lip and try not to sob as you find the courage to turn away from him like he did to you.

After a few minutes of patient biting, you feel Clark fade from the dream, his consciousness returning to his body on earth. You sob and sob and sob into your pillow, until you can’t remember ever doing anything else but sobbing. And eventually you’re called back to your body too, the sound of an alarm growing increasingly louder as the dream fades to black.

———

((clarks big speech to you at summerland))

“Hey!” He repeats louder, angrier, across from you.

You keep walking, not even looking in his direction, it’s as if he’s not even there. You’re breathing through your nose heavily, and biting the inside of your cheek to distract you. If you don’t, you feel like you might start crying. There’s so much going through your head right now. You just want to be left alone for once.

Clark is the worst clingy boyfriend ever.

As you get ready to pass him and rear the corner of the brick building, Clark’s steps come closer to yours, catching up to you surprisingly fast with his cane. You’re only a couple steps behind the facade of the building, out of sight of anyone else, when Clark’s hand grabs your shoulder and pushes you back forcefully. You turn and stumble backwards, hitting the wall with a small thud. He cages you in immediately, grabbing the wrist on your right arm and pinning it against the wall, his cane presses into your thigh, blocking your escape on your left side. The roughness of the brick against your shirt makes you want to cry, but so do the fingers digging into your wrist. You bite your lip and glare at him enough to burn him.

Clark leans down over you, cool as a cucumber. He smells the same as you remember, like sandalwood and patchouli. His scars stand prominent on his half swollen face, and you think about scratching at them to get away. But you can’t. You start thinking of the many ways to fight back and escape right now, but deep down, you don’t actually want to.

You try to free your wrist from his grip but he clamps down harder, pushing it and scratching it against the brick behind you.

“I missed you.” He says very bluntly. There’s absolutely no sound of love in his voice, no smile on his face, no easing up on his grip. He looks at you the way he would look at anybody else. And that makes you want to cry.

You shake your head and reach up gently toward his face with your free hand, placing it over his bad eye, the one where you know for a fact everyone at Division-3 will be watching and hearing this conversation right now. That is the last thing you wanted, for some jerks in their suits to be getting off to Clark degrading you and spilling all of the secrets about your past relationship in front of them.

Clark laughs darkly and removes your hand from over his eye.

“Sweetheart, they’re not listening or watching. Did you really think I’d let them see this? See you? No, no, no.” He laughs again, and shakes his head just like you did.

“Baby, I make the rules here, if I don’t want them to listen in on me, I can tune them out. No questions asked.” He smirks and drops your hand by your side again. Clark lets go of your wrist on the other side as well, now that he’s let you know you’re all alone, he wants to show you a little trust. You just stand there, wide eyed and wrist throbbing.

“It’s a nice little privilege I’ve gotten for my sacrifices to the organization. If I’m out on personal business, they can get disconnected at the snap of a finger!” He snaps his fingers awfully close to your face, making you flinch. His smile fades quickly and he stares down at you for a second. You swear his eyes trace your lips for a second before coming back up to meet yours.

“Here’s the deal. I have burns on over 40% of my body and I spent six weeks with a tube jammed into the head of my dick. We were ambushed at the pool. Men died. And you want to know what the craziest part is?” Clark’s voice is low now.

“When I eventually woke up from that horrible, excruciating pain on my right side, I didn’t have anyone there to comfort me. I didn’t have anyone there to tell me they missed me or that they were glad I was alright or just to simply hold my hand as I sat in a hospital bed, suffering for over a month...”

You watched his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed thickly. His eyes were undeniably glossy now, as he stared deeply into your eyes. But he didn’t let his emotions betray him, not a single tear fell, not a single muscle in his face moved at that moment, he was unchanging and colder than ice.

“When I went home, there was no one there for me. I laid in bed alone for days on end. I could barely even walk myself around the house. I didn’t get any help or any support or any relief from anyone. I knew whenever I got to work again, I would be going to war.”

You immediately felt a heavy pang to your heart, but you were keeping up as much of a straight face as he was right now. Neither one of you letting on to what’s actually going on deep down. It took everything in your power (no pun intended) to not slip into him immediately and caress that trauma away, tell him you’re sorry, and fill him with relief.

You just hung your head down, starting to feel guilty and ashamed, letting your eyes stare into the small patch of concrete between your shoes. Clark pinches your chin and lifts your gaze back up to his.

“You know, for those six weeks I only ever dreamt once? I slept a lot because of the painkillers, but never once, after that first dream, did I ever see your face again.” He whispers to you, his face so close to yours, his breath hitting you everywhere.

“That’s funny isn’t it?”

Your eyes flutter shut, your breath hitches, and you’re not exactly sure what will happen next, but your heart starts beating rapidly, waiting for something.

———

((an early visit from clark in the middle of the night))

Your heart skips a beat when he takes another step toward you, his head hanging over yours now, eyes dangerously close to yours, lips dangerously close to yours. He’s looking at your lips you notice.

You don’t like being taken advantage of. Nobody does. You haven’t been able to get a word in with Clark for days now. He seems to enjoy catching you off guard lately, finding just the right (wrong) times to sneak up on you, where you can’t say anything, you can’t fight back. Times where nobody else is around and you’re exhausted from memory work, or times where you haven’t slept because you’re afraid he might come back to you in a dream. Times where you feel helpless and cornered.

You’re sick of it. He doesn’t get to take advantage of you anymore.

‘I can play your little game too Clark.’ You think to yourself.

You look him dead in the eyes, putting your new training to work, you slip into his mind. It’s heavy in there, feverish, he’s angry, and everything’s hot to the touch. But as you go farther in, careful not to touch the anger brimming on the surface, closer to the abyss of forgotten memories and unconscious practices, sits fear. He’s scared and doesn’t want to be alone.

You smile a little bit and let out a quick laugh. He should really know better by now not to let you just slip into his mind like that, but he just loves letting you in there doesn’t he?

‘Oh Clark, baby…what’s there to be afraid of?’

You inch closer to his face, a bright and evil smile spreads across your lips. Your voice reverberates loud in his brain, it catches him off guard, you see the fear pass just behind his eyes now, crashing together with the anger. Clark blinks, then gulps, and takes a step back. The entire dynamic is flipped on its head in an instant.

“Stop that.” There’s a shake in his voice, but he tries to sound as though he’s still in control. He stares at you, unwilling to back down. You can feel his fear and loneliness tangling together at the back of his mind. You want to pull on it like a rope, make it stretch and fray around the edges, until you pull so hard it splits apart again.

‘Do I scare you?’ You look at him through heavy lids, examining his face like you’re about to devour him. You circle his body, now his back is the one up against a wall, and you stand freely in the space of your room at the foot of your bed.

Clark doesn’t say anything. Your voice is so loud in his skull, bouncing throughout every corridor of his brain, slipping in and out of places he doesn’t want you to be, you’re stronger than the first time he saw you. Much stronger. And that’s what begins to scare him. He clenches his jaw and tightens his knuckles, which have now turned white from gripping the wolf on top of his cane.

‘You’re afraid to be without me huh, baby?

Am I your dirty little secret you hide from your coworkers?

Am I your little plaything that you can’t seem to get enough of?

Your sweet little pet?

If I fuck you good enough, will you tell me that you love me?’

You could say so much more to him, but the next thing you know, Clark’s on top of you, pinning you down to your bed. His cane has been discarded to the side and his hands reach down to choke you. At first you don’t even realize what’s happening, you’re still working your way out of his brain. His hands don’t really stop your breathing at first, he’s just pushing on you, until he makes a little grunting noise and adjusts his shoulders, that’s when you realize your breathing has stopped and you can’t get it to start again. Your heart starts beating even faster now. The twisted up face he’s making shows that he’s struggling to put all his effort into killing you. This is hard for him.

Clark’s hands clamp around your throat, squeezing down more and more and more. He uses his body weight to immobilize your hips, crushing you from the waist down. His crotch is flush with yours and you can feel the heat of him rubbing against you. You try to wiggle under him, maybe granting yourself some sort of freedom but it’s useless. Your eyes open wide when you try to swallow but you can’t, so you cough and choke on the spit that gets caught in your throat. Your continuous movement only gives him more room to press down. You grab his wrists and try to breathe in with little success.

His eyes are wild as he’s shaking above you. You don’t fight back as you watch him, if this is the way you die, so be it. You’ve had a long life full of nothing but pain and misery. There have been so many countless times you feel like you should’ve died that at this point, you welcome death with open arms. Part of you wanted to even thank Clark for putting you out of your misery. You wanted to tell him that you loved him because this was, in the most backwards way possible, the kindest thing anyone has ever done for you.

So you try, with whatever effort remains inside of you, to look into his eyes and reach the deep waters in Clark’s brain again. You try to tell him ‘I wouldn��t have wanted it to end any other way, please be a little kinder to the others while I’m gone.’ But you’re not sure if the whole message gets across, there’s black spots dancing in your vision now, your head feels like it’s about to explode, you just wished it would be over quicker.

Your eyes flutter shut and a tear rolls down the side of your face, into your hair. You lay your head back and take it all in. The swimming vision, the ache in your crotch, the heaviness of his hands against your body, the blood getting caught under the pinched nerves, your heart beat completely uneven in your jugular. Your back arches and you hear yourself gurgle a little bit and it sends a chill throughout your body. The grip you have on his wrists is slipping. You can feel your finger tips tingling like static on a TV.

You’re about to give in to the encroaching darkness when Clark’s hands suddenly ease up, and his lips come crashing down on yours. His tongue parts your lips and you gasp for air, only getting a single breath in before Clark’s covering your mouth with his again. You start to kiss him back. His hands on your throat haven’t left, but they aren’t pressing down on you anymore, his thumbs are gently stroking the area you’re sure will be bruised a deep purple tomorrow.

You reach your hands up to lightly grasp his shoulders, your arms are still weak and recovering. He shifts himself in between your legs now, the backs of your thighs pressing against Clark’s. His hands are trailing down from your throat to your chest and he runs his fingers over your nipples. It must be the adrenaline, or at least you hoped it was the adrenaline making your sex hormones go crazy. Because your nipples harden immediately under the fabric of your shirt. You were getting hot and sticky between your thighs and every part of you throbbed with anticipation for more.

You gasp again when Clark broke the kiss on your lips to kiss your cheek, kiss your chin, then dipping down to kiss that pretty little throat he just majorly fucked up.

Clark pulls away to look at you.

You’re both breathing heavy, his eyes still have that wild flare to them as he watches you to see if things are okay to continue, and in some weird fucked up way, they are. You let your hands travel to his face and pull him back in to kiss you. Clark hums and runs his hands down your torso, he starts to unbutton your pants, you desperately reach down to help him move along faster.

If he doesn’t fuck you right now and hard, you’ll surely be the one killing him next, or at least be the one waking up tomorrow and telling everyone Clark broke into your room last night and tried to kill you and then fuck you.

You both fumble for a second but pry your pants open at the same time, the zipper comes undone with one quick pull and a loud ‘zrrrt’ that flies through the air of the quiet room. You quickly move to undo Clark’s pants next. His cock feels rock hard when you accidentally graze it. It makes you pull away from the kiss to look at him, his face is full of lust and sweat as he looks down at you, his hands resting heavily against your tummy.

He looks like he wants to eat you from the inside out. You’re trying to figure out if it’s in a good way or a bad way.

‘Was this his plan all along?’ You think to yourself.

Clark pulls your shirt up over your head, tossing it to the floor, your chest bare to him now. You’d say you’re blushing from the realization that it’s the first time he’s seeing you naked in real life, but you’re pretty sure your face is still bright red thanks to him. He leans down again, taking the soft skin on your chest between his teeth, it makes your jaw go slack and you throw your head back against the mattress. He kisses you everywhere, biting and sucking and leaving marks on you, as if the two handprints that will be perfectly engraved on your throat tomorrow won’t be enough to say ‘Clark made me his last night’.

You make quick work of his belt and fly. As soon as they’re both undone, your hands go up to tug the hair on his scalp as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth. Clark shows you absolutely no mercy by sucking on your sensitive bud, letting his tongue flick over it, left to right, up and down. His tongue feels so hot over your sensitive skin, licking away the taste of you until there’s nothing left.

And when he grazes your nipple with his teeth, you suck in a sharp breath, your back arching instinctively into his body. He traps you in this position by snaking an arm around the curve of your back, holding you in place against him. His other arm keeps him propped up over you, your nipple perfectly positioned in his mouth, being ruthlessly wetted by kisses and licks from him. And when Clark’s mouth switches sides, it leaves the skin of your chest red and abused. The bitter chill of the room hits your damp skin, already missing the tug of Clark’s mouth, and gives you goosebumps.

With your head thrown back on the mattress and your hands tangled in Clark’s hair, he gives the same treatment to your other bud. He sucks and bites and tortures your poor nipples until you feel like sobbing. The pain and pleasure combined starts to give you a head rush, your arms feel weak again and you can’t help but lay them above you.

He bites once more and you twitch in his arms, the precum between your legs begins to soak through your underwear. Your body begs for friction elsewhere, your need for Clark is endless. He moans when your hips tilt up, and the heat of your crotch grazes his aching cock.

He pulls away hastily, letting your back hit the bed under you again. It takes the breath out of you for a second as you prop yourself up on your elbows, watching him swiftly rip his maroon jacket off, then his shirt, which he doesn’t bother to unbutton, just tugs it over his head and tosses it where neither of you can see. You can feel the nerves just under the skin of your chest firing rapidly with tingly little pops like fireworks.

Clark’s chest too looks like some sort of bright firecracker, the skin on his right side weaves and blooms with redness and paleness alike. Damn David for doing this to such a fucking gorgeous man, but it’s true what they say, people do really dig scars.

Your heart beats wildly.

You don’t have much time to admire him as his hands find the waistband of your pants, which he no less than rips off of your body, along with your underwear in one big swoop. They end up quickly forgotten on the floor, with the other scatterings of yours and his clothes.

He steps back and admires your gorgeous body, now naked, panting and slick with sweat on the bed in front of him.

“Wanna know something?” Clark’s voice is weirdly calm, so clam it sends chills down your spine.

You bite your lip and nod at him. He watches you, watching him, take his pants and underwear off slowly. His cock springs to life at its new found freedom, you try to keep eye contact with him, but when his cock is so pretty and pink and begging to be touched, your eyes can’t help but flick down in anticipation for it.

Clark comes back to resume his position between your legs, his eyes flash down to your sex, when his hips end up flush with yours again, he rests his cock on top of the soft flesh of your pelvis. You look at the size of him, and take a deep breath in. From this angle, you can’t wrap your head around how it’s all going to fit in. He cups your face gently and leans in over you.

“You are my pet, and I’m going to make you learn that tonight.”

Clark’s voice is so deep, it makes him rumble above you. He grips the back of your neck with his left hand, your eyes go wide for a split second, and pushes the index and middle fingers on his right hand into your wet mouth. You welcome him in gladly, almost embarrassed at how well you immediately coat him in your saliva, licking the salty taste of his skin off of his fingers.

You look deeply into his eyes and he smirks as he watches you, desperate for his touch anywhere inside of you, even if it was just your mouth. You’re definitely embarrassed now. But you just keep wetting him with your tongue, swirling around him in your mouth. Clark’s fingers go in deeper, you feel his knuckles brushing against your top lip and the tips of his fingers curling around the curve of your throat.

He watches your mouth work to wet him through heavy lids. Your own eyes are fluttering shut, but you try to keep them open to watch him back. You can feel your body wanting to gag against him, but you won’t let it happen, you’ll keep him deep in your mouth with absolutely no hesitation. He loves feeling the back of your throat, poking around where he’s not “supposed” to be.

Clark is very sure this is exactly where he’s supposed to be.

He looks so pleased with you. You might just die from his look alone.

“Good pet.” He hums and slips his fingers out of your mouth, you huff with a hot breath as you watch his fingers leave you, a web of sticky spit still connects your tongue with his fingers. You feel the tiny string snap against your lower lip and pool there as he pulls away.

He reaches down and wipes his two fingers slick with your spit, against the swollen head of his cock, making it shine in the low light of your room. He presses the tip of himself against your entrance. Your body is so hungry for him that you almost think to reach down and put all of him inside of you yourself! But you keep your hands pressed down against the bedsheets, your head hazy and swimming with lust for Clark.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” Clark asks, keeping his voice low.

You secretly melted every time he called you that.

Sweetheart. Baby. Pet.

Clark loved calling you that to make your insides twist, he always knew that’s what he did to you. You weren’t sure which one you like being called more. The fact that he called you anything, made you squirm. His simple acknowledgement of you as a person always sent all the blood in your body rushing to your crotch. It made you feel like you were his. Wholly owned by Clark, never anyone else.

———

((comfort from clark after a bad memory work session with Dr.Bird & Ptonomy))

Clark runs a hand up and down your back as you let a few more tears fall from your eyes and onto his suit jacket. You’ll clean it up for him tomorrow.

“I held you there…in the closet. I tried to….talk to you, I guess.” Clark’s voice is soft but unsure. Now that it’s just the two of you he can finally process what just happened.

You lift your head and look up at him, both of your eyes are sad, yours are bloodshot and tear stained, his are worried and tired. You nod and press a finger to your temple and smile at him softly.

“You dreamt it? Good because I-“ He smiles and realizes he’s gotten ahead of himself.

“Because I love you.” Clark says firmly.

“I love you and I hoped you also dreamt of me coming to rescue you because I was beginning to think I made it up!” He chuckles nervously.

You nod again and tap your temple. You had dreamed the same dream. The one that started this whole thing. Although you didn’t realize it at the time, that was the first time Clark had ever appeared in your dreams. The light that surrounded him made him glow above you, you saw him as your guardian angel.

You place your hands firmly on either side of his face, anchoring his gaze to yours.

‘I love you’, you mouth at him and you guide his lips to yours.

You take Clark’s top lip in between your own, then his bottom one. Stubble on the left side of his face scratches your cheek gently, but you don’t mind it at all. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him deeper, parting your lips for him when his tongue begs for entry. He holds your waist flush against his body while you two kiss.

For a moment you don’t worry about who sees, the world right now is just you and Clark, soft lips and wet tongues.

You both pull away and share a quiet laugh.

“Let’s get you back to your room, shall we?” Clark smirks and turns toward the door of the memory cube, he’s grabbing your arm for guidance since his cane is gone.

It’s dark out now, you’re not sure exactly how long you all were in the memory cube for but you’re sure that everyone else has gone to bed by now.

You help Clark navigate the stairs outside and up to your room. You push the door open and walk in, but Clark remains outside. You turn to look at him, confused. He smirks a little and leans against the door frame.

“I’m technically not allowed to come in still.”

You roll your eyes and tug his arm inside, he doesn’t hesitate after that.

Once he’s inside, you shut your door and turn to join him in your bedroom. Clark groans as he sits on the edge of the bed. The side of the bed you’ve come to learn is ‘his’, you used to sleep directly in the middle out of habit, but dozens of late night Clark visits have taught you to leave some room for him.

You kick off your shoes quickly and quite literally flop down face first into your side of the bed, burying your face into your pillow.

“Hey, wait for me sweetheart! You know I need help with these damn shoes.”

You can hear Clark struggling to reach down and untie the shoe on his bad side, he just can’t seem to bend down far enough without it hurting him. You would pretend it annoyed you to help him sometimes, but you secretly loved doing little things for him like this.

You sigh and roll over to his side of the bed before coming to kneel on the floor in front on him. You untie his shoe, slip it off of his foot, and place it beside the other one underneath the bedside table. You can’t help but smile at the domestication of it all when Clark flicks on the TV to some soap opera you’ve never heard of.

You look up at Clark and start to unfasten the deep red buttons of his shirt. As you do so, you kiss him, once, then twice, letting the third one linger and become deeper. He lets a small moan release from his throat once you’ve finished unbuttoning him all the way, he feels your hands on the skin of his torso. But before your hands can travel further south, he stops you. His hands come to rest gently over yours against his chest. You pull away from the kiss to see him.

“Tonight we should just rest. You need it more than me. And don’t- don’t give me that look baby, when you know I’m right.”

You do know that he’s right but that doesn’t stop you from pouting. You kiss him a couple more times and help him take off his jacket. You put it on a hanger in your closet, letting a finger trace over the mostly dry tear stains that lay faintly on the shoulder. You turn back to see Clark almost completely naked, except for his underwear, he’s getting under the covers and smiles when he catches you staring.

You love his scars, even if he doesn’t. You wished to memorize the patterns of them one day, to be able to trace and retrace them, over and over and over again in your mind.

You slip into the bathroom quickly, just to brush your teeth before bed. The face in the mirror is almost unrecognizable to you, it’s you, and you know that, but sometimes when things get hard, you wish you didn’t recognize it in the end. So you face the other direction when brushing your teeth, leaning your back against the counter and go through the motions. It’s nice to play pretend like none of the memory work effects you, but it’s draining. Years have ticked away, pills have been swallowed, strangers have come and gone, all to make you forget. Yet the memories were still there, just laying under a murky surface of denial. And now, being in such a strange place with strange people telling you there’s no more time to forget. This is how the murk clears up.

What you can see now in those subconscious waters is years of bitter neglect. You waited to be loved for so long, by your parents, by your friends, by strange men and women in your bedroom at night. But none of them loved you.

Your mom never wanted you, that was clear. You ruined her life. And your dad had his own special way of showing you ‘love’.

Those few and far between friends found you cold, distant, preoccupied, and not at all easy to get along with. You were a burden to bring around, like hauling heavy luggage through a long airport.

As for those strangers knocking on your door at night, they would tell you they loved you, but really they just loved the way you could dance around their head and make them feel floaty, light as air. You mistook it for love a couple of times. If they came back as often as they did, it had to be love right? But love doesn’t come at the price of half a dozen sleeping pills a day, sometimes more.

You shake your head, the ache in your chest lingers as you spit out your toothpaste in the sink and rinse your mouth. You avoid the mirror at all costs and promptly exit the bathroom.

Clark is heavy lidded and staring at the TV, he wakes up a little at the sight of you and smiles. You smile back and climb over his legs to get to your side of the bed. You shimmy under the blanket and smile at the relief and comfort the warmth brings you. You feel Clark pull the covers up around you and him, he wraps an arm around you and pulls you in tight against his body. His face is buried in your neck, leaving a kiss here and there, his stubble tickles your skin as he finds the perfect place to rest his head. Clark lets his right hand find yours and interlocks his fingers with you, his thumb begins lazily rubbing patterns over your knuckles.

You’re trying to think about how this was the way Clark held little you in the memory. You didn’t get to see any of it of course, but it’s now all so familiar. Your guardian angel. He was warm like this in your first dream. He was safe like this too. You wanted to remind yourself to thank Clark for holding little you when you see him in dreamland.

He was already on thin ice around Summerland and going in and messing up Ptonomy’s delicate memory work would not grant him any brownie points with anybody. But it meant the world to you. You’d never been cared for like that, someone sacrifices what little trust they already have with the people around them just to protect this memory version of you? You? Maybe that…..that….was the price of love after all.

Before you even realize it, you’re drifting off, the theatrics of the soap opera across from you start to fade into static. The heat of Clark was everywhere, enveloping you, making you feel safe and secure and loved. Finally loved. Those deep waters in the back of your brain were muted now.

———————————————————

i appreciate everyone who took the time to read all of this, i’m open to any suggestions or discussions about this fic or writing in general! i pray that i will continue to enjoy writing it, and at some point, get to post it for you all to finally read! i have a few writing pieces for other hamish characters in my notes currently, but they are nowhere near as grand as this clark fic is right now.

♰Ego

#hamish linklater #clark debussy #wip fic #legionfx #my wiritng #previews

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