#and then on the rare occasion i spent time with my dad he would guilt me for things my mom would make me do

[slippery-minghus]

that comic about the monster lady not being monster enough for the support group got me thinking, and i think i have the answer to my shrink's homework for me this week. after i was sick last week, we spent the sesh talking about my pathological independence (my term not theirs) and how not only do i never ask for help, i don't know what help i would need.

we managed to narrow it down to pinpoint the conditions i would ask for help in, and what i would ask, and basically i would have to be at a breaking point combined with not knowing what to do. the only kind of help i would ask for is to be taught how to cope on my own/solve the issue on my own. to be given the tools, not have someone else do the work. i never want people to solve my problems (or even offer me comfort while i solve them myself)

which actually leads me to something i didn't expect. i often see a lot of my reactions to my mother in my neuroses/traumas like this, but i think the icing on this one is actually from my dad. my dad, who never taught me how to do anything, and would berate me for not being able to do it on my own. it sounds so obvious now, but i'm not surprised it didn't click. i understand now why the memory of getting my first bank card has been rattling around in my head this week. because it was such a blunt example of him refusing to teach me, to give me the tools to figure things out on my own, then humiliating me (literally in public) for not understanding. i remember nearly crying in that bank. because no one would explain to me how atm cards worked—not that i would have been in any sort of position to learn prior to that— and therefore i couldn't be trusted to be mature enough to handle the responsibility. i had to beg him to let me have that much.

and then i think to the start of the pandemic, when i was 26 not 17, and how he took the reins from the back seat to control getting me enrolled in unemployment payments. he guilted me for not being able to do it on my own, saying how he wouldn't always be there to do these things for me. i didn't have the guts to stand up to him, but i know i spent a lot of time talking to my therapist about how all he really needed to do was teach me.

i'm sure a lot of my independence comes from my mom. her paradoxically neglectful helicoptering created the perfect storm for that. nothing could be done on my own, and i could never be trusted to be able to learn (because i was so delicate and infantile), but i was also always left alone in my most vulnerable moments. and then dad would come home and blame me for scraping by alone instead of innately knowing how to thrive.

my parents wanted a child they only had to parent and raise when it was convenient, when it made them feel good, when it made other people like them. the rest of the time it was up to me to maintain the image. the rest of the time it was up to me to figure things out on my own. that i did a damn good job raising myself goes without saying, but it's left me not knowing how not to know what to do. and i don't know how to ask for help about that.

#the bit about signing up for unemployment too pings that very delicate spot about my dad being relatively well off #but using every cent to abuse #i know these days it's kinda shameful to have been raised middle class so it's hard to talk about but financial abuse is my dad's favorite #it's why he sent me a $150 gift card for xmas like it was nothing #because if he never allowed me to learn actual independence he could keep me financially dependent #and afford to do so at that #and thinking about how with my mom it was impossible for her to not see me as an overgrown infant #she would cut meat for me until i was like 12. and every steak fry was cut in half so i wouldn't choke like i did when i was 3 #i couldn't choose my own clothes for the day until i was 12 #and i fought tooth and nail to prove i knew how to take care of myself #i took pride in being 10 and knowing how to run a house (cook clean laundry etc) #my trademark reason for disliking things was that 'it was for babies' #yet when i wasn't being overprotected i was just... alone #i wasn't allowed outside so i sat and played videogames #i wasn't allowed to go places with friends so i sat alone at home #always always alone. unsupervised but always with the helicopter right around the corner ready to keep me in line #and then on the rare occasion i spent time with my dad he would guilt me for things my mom would make me do #mom wouldn't let me go on a walk without a water bottle and inhaler and dad would humiliate me for taking them #there was no way to win #abuse #personal #*sigh* i'm so glad i got out. so glad that shit is over and only in my nightmares #(and hoo boy is it in my nightmares)

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

"Good Girl"

Smutober Week 3

Prompt: In the car

Character: Roy Kent (Ted Lasso)

2.5k words

Warnings: Age gap (reader is university age, Roy is in his 40s), Dad's Friend trope, blowjob, praise kink maybe?

A/N: This one got away from me a bit because I looooove this premise for Roy. Enjoy! 😝

You kept your smile plastered on as your dad bragged about you for the millionth time that night. Here you were, surrounded by absolute football legends, and he felt like telling his former teammates all about what you were studying in uni was the most important thing in the world.

It sounded like a fun weekend when he invited you. One of his former teammates was inviting a bunch of people for a big party, a reunion of sorts, and your dad, an icon in his own right, invited you to join him. Wanted to show off his kid to his friends, he’d said. So, your Saturday night was spent shaking hands with famous footballers and pretending that it wasn’t embarrassing to hear your dad repeat your accomplishments over and over.

Just as you were debating asking him for the keys to drive back to the hotel most of the retired players were staying at, the sounds of shouting came from the side gate that led to the backyard party.

“He’s here! He’s there! He’s every-fucking-where!”

Heat flooded your body. Roy Kent. You spent your entire life hearing about the gruff footballer, all about how your father was one of the few people he actually liked, and how your father was incredibly proud of Roy’s career; he saw the man like a younger brother of sorts, although the two rarely got to see each other anymore. Although you never met, you’d harbored a crush on him for years, blushing every time your father mentioned him and putting up his poster in your bedroom.

And hell if he didn’t look good tonight. Black slacks that hugged his lower half beautifully, black button-down shirt that revealed that thick chest hair, and a smirk that had your mouth watering. As he shook someone’s hand, his eyes found yours. For a moment, his gaze flittered down your figure, eyebrows raising as he went.

Roy Kent was looking at you like he wanted to devour you.

Your breath became shallow as you quickly turned around, pretending to busy yourself with grabbing a drink. Although you’d initially been thrilled at the idea of finally meeting Roy Kent, actually seeing him- and seeing the scandalous way he looked at you- had you dreading the moment your dad would say-

“Roy! There you are!”

When you lifted your gaze, your father was giving Roy a one-armed hug, laughing as Roy embraced him back. He turned to you, pride shining on his face as he presented you like a prize. “Here she is, my pride and joy,” your dad announced.

Even with your dad right there, Roy couldn’t help the way his eyes flickered from your face to your body. Obviously, he knew who you were; your dad was incredibly proud of you and always managed to bring you up on the rare occasion they talked. And like all dads, he bragged about you being the most beautiful young woman in the world. But nothing could prepare Roy for the desire he felt as he stood in front of you, nor for the guilt that came with checking you out.

Instead of one of the dozen dirty little thoughts that sprinted through his mind, Roy simply shook your hand, wearing that wicked smile of his. “Nice to finally meet you. I have-” He cleared his throat. “-heard a lot about you.”

You couldn’t resist giving his hand a squeeze before letting go. “Heard a lot about you too,” you murmured. “Mostly from tabloids though,” you teased.

His dark chuckle had you pressing your thighs together. “Can’t believe everything you read,” he countered, something sparkling in those brown eyes.

Your dad’s friendly hand on your shoulder reminded you where you were. “But you can believe whatever you read about Roy Kent.” His voice was jovial, full of laughter, as if his old teammate wasn’t mentally undressing his daughter. “This man was quite the troublemaker way back when. I spent more time kicking his butt back in line than kicking the football.” He nodded to Roy. “Let’s get you a drink and sit, we’ve got some serious catching up to do, Roy-o.”

That’s how you ended up sitting at a table in the far corner of the yard next to Roy Kent, sipping your drink while you listened to him joke and reminisce with your dad across from you. Every time Roy laughed, his knee bumped yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body each time. And you swore each time, he left his leg pressed to yours for longer periods before moving back into his space, slyly quirking his eyebrow at you each time.

Finally, your dad stood, announcing that he was grabbing another round. The moment he was gone, Roy turned to look at you, the corner of his mouth turning upwards.

“Shame we never met before,” he hummed, his eyes boldly exploring your body. “Your dad been hiding you from me or something?”

“Does he have reason to?” you countered, leaning towards him. “Is everything I read about you true, Mister Kent?”

His eyes flickered to your mouth before holding your gaze firmly. “Depends what you’ve read.” He glanced across the yard, making sure your dad was occupied with talking to someone else by the drinks. Satisfied, Roy leaned forward and brought his mouth close to your ear. “The curve? Down there?” he whispered, his breath tickling your skin. “Just something I do with my hips.”

You let out a quiet groan as he leaned back, smirk on his lips. “Do you give demonstrations?” you murmured, wondering where the hell your audacity came from. Probably from between your legs, if you were being honest.

Roy’s eyes lit up sinfully. But before he could give you an answer, your dad returned with drinks for everyone, none the wiser to the heat radiating between you and the Chelsea legend twenty years your senior. As if he hadn’t just told you about his famous dick, Roy returned to chatting with your father, all charm and innocence. This time, however, his fingers ghosted over your thigh under the table, tracing a hot trail on your bare skin.

After a couple more rounds and clandestine looks from Roy, your dad suggested that the two of you start heading back to the hotel. Your heart sank; you weren’t ready to leave the man sitting next to you.

Apparently, he wasn’t ready for you to leave either.

“Let the kid stay,” Roy suggested. “She’s young, she’s having a good time. Don’t make her be on your old man sleep schedule.” He winked at you playfully, an innocent gesture in your dad’s eyes. “I can take her back to the hotel with me when I leave.”

Your dad’s gaze shifted to your hopeful face. “Wanna stay?” When you nodded eagerly, he laughed and turned back to Roy. “Well, guess she’s staying. Take good care of her, alright, Kent?” He raised his eyebrows at his former teammate jokingly. “And behave. None of your usual nonsense.”

Roy pretended to look offended. “Don’t you trust me?” The innocence on his face contrasted deliciously with the way he flattened his palm on your thigh, fingers inching towards the hem of your dress.

“Absolutely not,” your dad laughed, blissfully unaware of the way Roy tugged your dress up ever so slightly. “You be a good boy, Kent, you hear?”

It was a fucking challenge, keeping a straight face as Roy’s fingertip found the edge of your panties. “Abso-fucking-lutely,” he lied. “Drive safe, alright mate?”

With an oblivious wave, your father was gone, clueless to the obscene thoughts Roy Kent was having about his precious daughter. Roy turned to look at you, face darkened with lust as he toyed with the quickly dampening material of your underwear.

“I notice he didn’t tell you to behave,” he purred. “Are you always a good girl, then?”

Desperate to look cool in front of the most tempting man you’d ever met, you simply leaned your elbow on the table, helping him hide the way he played under your dress. “Oh, of course,” you said in a syruopy voice. “I always respect my elders, Roy.”

“What happened to Mister Kent?” He chuckled. “Your daddy leaves, and you suddenly forget your manners, young lady?”

“Guess I did,” you sighed dramatically, as if you weren’t imaging what you’d look like beneath him. “You going to remind me of my manners, Mister Kent?”

He let out a soft growl and glanced around. “Don’t think I can do that here,” he murmured. He cleared his throat and leaned back, taking his hand back, leaving you with a pout on your lips. “Finish your drink. We can… go for a drive.”

As you sipped your drink, trying not to appear too eager, you watched Roy out of the corner of your eye. He was gazing at you hungrily. If you saw that wolfish look on another man’s face, you’d be walking away as quickly as possible. But because it was Roy fucking Kent looking at you like he wanted to bend you over the plastic table you sat at, you batted your eyelashes and showed him your now-empty cup.

With a curt nod, Roy stood. “Let’s go.”

He tossed you the keys, mumbling something about saying goodbye to the hosts. You made your way out of the yard, mumbling goodbyes to your father’s friends, men you’d known forever, either personally or through stories and photos. Finally, you left the party behind, walking briskly towards the street. You pressed the button on Roy’s key, revealing the location of his car, a giant, black vehicle that you climbed inside.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when Roy abruptly opened the driver’s side door and climbed in; the amused grin on his face told you he noticed. “Did I fucking scare you?” he teased as he started the car.

“Only a little.” Partly thanks to the alcohol, partly thanks to the darkness of the car, you felt emboldened to place your hand on his thigh, holding back a moan when you felt the flexed muscle through his trousers.

He fucking squirmed.

“How’s school?” he asked, eyes on the road as he gripped the steering wheel. “Your dad said you were, uh, studying…” His eyes flickered to your hand as it travelled further up his thigh. “Studying…”

You knew your grin was absolutely smug as you inched towards the growing bulge in his pants. “Alright there, Mister Kent?”

“Fucking hell,” he breathed. He was rapidly losing the upper hand and didn’t care one bit. “Thought you were a good girl?”

“I think I’m being a very good girl,” you teased, wrapping your hand around his clothed length. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

A growl escaped his throat. “I think,” he started slowly, his voice thick with desire, “that you are going to cause a fucking car accident, you menace.”

You giggled and began stroking him through his pants. “Guess you better hurry up and get us to the hotel, hmm?” Watching him press his body harshly against his seat had you wriggling in your own seat. And feeling how hard- how thick- Roy Kent was definitely had you making a mess in the panties he’d been playing with earlier.

“Oh fuck this.”

With a jerk of the steering wheel, Roy made a sharp turn, one that had your seatbelt digging into your skin. He swiftly found a secluded parking spot at the end of a dark, empty street and turned off the car. He turned on you, seizing your wrist, freezing your hand mid-stroke.

“Are you done playing around?” he growled. “Done teasing me?” He raised his eyebrows. “Are you just making a fool out of an old man, or are you going to fucking do something?”

Your entire body trembled with anticipation. “What did you have in mind?”

With a devilish smirk, Roy released your wrist; the delicious sound of a zipper hit your ears. After a moment of wriggling down his pants and boxers, Roy grabbed you gently by your hair and eased your face to his hard cock. Feeling dirty and greedy, you parted your lips, groaning as you welcomed him into your eager mouth.

The car was filled with the sounds of Roy’s growling moans, your muffled whines, and the sloppy wet sound of you swirling his cock with your tongue. Roy kept his grip on your hair, pulling it back so he could watch you in the moonlight.

“Guess you are a good girl,” he grunted. “A very fucking good girl.”

He lifted his hips, thrusting into your mouth. When his tip hit the back of your throat, you couldn’t help but reach down between your legs to rub your clit through your soaked panties. How many times had you touched yourself like this as you imagined Roy Kent and his gorgeous cock? Here, in this monstrous black car, you were living your wildest sexual fantasies. And fuck, when you felt him throb against your tongue, you felt sure you’d wake up from this dream at any moment.

Roy let out a shuddering breath when you used your free hand to stroke the part of him that didn’t fit in your mouth. “This what they’re teaching you at uni?” he taunted. “How to suck cock?” A lewd moan slipped past his lips. “Because you’re way too fucking good at this for a good girl.”

You pulled off of him with a pop, catching your breath as you lapped at his tip, tasting his delicious precum. He dropped his head back against the headrest with a content sigh, stroking your hair softly. When you let your tongue glide down the vein on the side of his shaft, he twitched in your hand, leaking more precum that you quickly sucked up.

Still feeling greedy, you wrapped your lips around him again, moaning around him when he bucked up into your mouth. He tightened his grip on your hair, giving a harsh tug, as he continued to drive up into your drooling mouth, loving the sound of your muffled gags and moans.

“Does my good girl want a fucking treat?” he huffed with a particularly severe thrust. “Gonna come in your mouth, pretty thing.”

His hips stuttered as your mouth filled with his salty release, warm and satisfying all the way down your throat. You hollowed your cheeks, sucking and swallowing every last bit, savoring your reward, your treat.

Roy gave a rough tug, pulling you off of him. You gazed at him, eyes wide and wild, slobber running down your chin, lips shiny and swollen.

Fuck, he thought you looked beautiful.

“Did so well for me,” Roy cooed, wiping the drool off your lower lip. “Think you could let me drive back to the hotel in peace now, hmm?” With a tight grip on your face, he pressed a harsh kiss to your mouth, tangling his tongue with yours.

You pulled back breathlessly, nodding. “Only if you take me back to your room,” you whispered. “Fucking… fucking want more of you.”

“Oh don’t worry,” he chuckled. “When we get there, you can show me how bad a good girl can be.”

#tally's smutober prompts #he's here he's there he's every fucking where #roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent fanfic #roy kent fic #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent imagine

[hchollym]

Do you have any other Percy headcanons?

I have a ton!

Some of my headcanons are educated guesses based on the information in the text, but some are also completely random, have no textual evidence to support them, and may or may not just be me projecting onto the character 🤣

Some Extra Percy Headcanons:

Percy decided that he needed one act of teenage rebellion once he turned 17 (as a right of passage & just to prove to himself that he wasn't as boring as people said), so he got his tongue pierced. He figured that he could always take it out if he wanted, and it was easy to hide even without a concealing charm because it was mostly out of sight, so why not? He ended up keeping it. 

Percy isn't a fan of dangerous animals like Charlie, but he loves household animals (like rats and owl), and he always wanted a kitten (so he finally got one as an adult).

Once he saved enough money from working, Percy got spell-surgery to correct his vision (since contacts don’t seem to be a thing in the wizarding world). He mostly only did so because he was tired of his glasses falling down his nose and off his face all the time (like in GoF). 

Oliver convinced him to get small, matching ‘Gryffindor’ tattoos when they graduated. He actually ended up loving it, so he got several more tattoos after that, each one with a symbolic meaning, but all of them were in places that could be hidden underneath his shirt so that he wouldn’t have any issues at work.

Percy and the twins all have an “only I can mess with my brother” mentality. The twins tease Percy all the time, but if someone else (not in their family) were to tease him, they would find themselves on the receiving end of some nasty pranks. Likewise, Percy complains about the twins all the time, but if someone else were to do the same, he would definitely go off on them and defend the twins (even if they were wrong).

Percy likes having plants in his apartment because they make it feel less suffocating, but he’s not great at keeping them alive, so he tends to keep succulents and cacti. 

He finally went to therapy for his alcoholism (see this post) and was diagnosed with anxiety, and he takes medicine for it (he has daily medicine but also fast-acting sedatives for when it gets really bad).

He smoked muggle cigarettes at one point after he left home, because it helped him calm down. After going to therapy, he realized that he was self-medicating and weaned himself off, but he still smokes flavored cigarillos on occasion (blueberry is his favorite). 

Bill is the only one in his family that he never fully reconciled with after the war. They managed to be civil and even polite, but there was just too much bitterness and guilt on both sides to ever go back to normal. Percy never checked on Bill after he was attacked by Fenrir, and he didn’t go to Bill’s wedding, and I think that actually really hurt Bill and left him somewhat resentful. I think he briefly considered not going to Percy’s wedding when he was invited, but he quickly realized he was being petty and went anyway. Also see this post about my thoughts on Percy’s feelings towards Bill. 

Percy spent a lot of his free time in muggle London during his split from his family (the wizarding world is rather small, and he didn't want to risk running into them), so after they reconciled, he would bring his family members to places like the movies, the aquarium, mini-golf, etc. To no one's surprise, that was the thing that really helped Percy and his dad finally connect and find some common ground. 

Not only is he really good at nonverbal spells and wandless magic, but he can actually perform a few nonverbal spells without a wand, which is rare.  

He eventually decided to follow Professor McGonagall's example and become an animagus. I haven't fully decided which animal I think he turns into, but I lean towards a bear, because it symbolizes solitude/boundaries, “standing your ground”, courage, introspection, protection, and healing. What animal do you guys think?

Thanks for the ask! 😊

#ask me #anon ask #percy weasley #my headcanons #fred and george #hp

[ofstoriesandstardust]

For the 20 questions ask game!

18. Share the scene you just wrote, written from another character’s POV.

wip game!

this took me a minute because i got food poisoning this week, however i finally finished it! this is from Slider's perspective from a piece entitled innocent (but it's originally from Rebel's perspective)

cw: underage drinking

He watches the door screen door shut behind you before he lets out a sigh, letting his head fall into his hand. 

God, what a fucked up situation this was. 

Your Dad, who was rarely home, now home for an undetermined amount of time as he recovered from injuries that should’ve killed him. 

Your godfather, home now because of an illness that could very well kill him. 

And quite frankly, he’d expected you to break. 

The guilt was all-consuming, the way he had expected this to break you, to evoke the side of you he hadn’t seen since you were nineteen. 

The two of you had never discussed those months, and especially not that night. You’d apologized to Ice, he knew that much, after a less than ideal trip to D.C. The conversation the two of you had had in that city had brought you all the closer together. 

He knew you had promised your Dad you wouldn’t drink. He knows that you stuck to it, even after you turned 21. You rarely consumed alcohol as it was, only on special occasions or out at nice dinners. 

What you did on base and on deployments was something he had no idea about but he knew, that at the very least, you rarely picked up a drink when you were with them. 

He’d never trusted what Tom and Pete saw in your conversations, saw in you, that you had really changed, that you were sorry. He always held tight to his suspicions that one day, you’d pick the bottle back up and not put it back down again. 

But you’d handled everything so well. 

Which almost made him more scared, that you were the rock for the family when so long everyone had been looking out and taking care of you. You were holding it together too well, and he knew that no matter what, you would eventually break. 

And he wanted you to trust him enough to come to him when the storm hit, because it would, and it would hit hard, and he knew you wouldn’t without an apology. 

It was long overdue anyways. 

He slips out onto the front porch where you’re sitting, holding two cans of the soda you drank like it was water, though it was probably a habit he encouraged considering he picked you up a case every time he went to Costco. 

He holds out the cna to you before sitting down next to you on the porch swing. 

There was a storm rolling in off the coast, remnants of a tropical storm, warning of trouble to come. 

“Kiddo, I’ve been wanting to talk to you.” 

You hum, looking up at him. “Am I in trouble?” 

His heart clenches at the thought that you might think the only reason he’d want to talk to you is yell at you. 

He’s quick to shake his head. “No, no, not at all. I owe you an apology.” 

You quirk an eyebrow. “What? Why?” 

He swallows. “For what happened when you were at UCSD.” 

He sighs, shifting to lean his forearms on his knees. “I owe you an apology. I should’ve told you I was sorry a long time ago, but I haven’t.” He shakes his head, looking away from you. “I’ve spent a long time holding my breath. I thought that maybe we hadn’t seen the end of it, that maybe Pete and Tom were wrong about you moving past that. But-” Slider cuts himself off, letting out a breath through his teeth. “You have handled this all with so much grace, that I have to admit kid, that I was wrong. I was always so caught up on your safety, on making sure that you were still around to have a future, that I missed out on you growing up. I was wrong that night, to accuse you of that and I’m sorry for it. And I’m sorry for every day that I’ve held it over you, whether you knew it or not.” 

He glances over you as you’ve gone quiet before realizing you’re crying. 

Oh, he’s really fucked this up hasn’t he?

He reaches over, quick to pull you into a hug. 

“It doesn’t matter Sli.” 

He pauses, blinking. “What do you mean?” 

You shake your head, looking back out at the storm. “None of it matters.” You shrug. “None of it matters, cause I never forgave myself for doing that or for the hell I put everyone through.” 

“Kid-”

“No, because why should I? All I did was drink and make friends with shitty people and hurt everyone around me just because I was hurting.” 

#same mistakes #kylie answers #like father like daughter

[forlornputato]

Happy Mom's Day!

This feels like more than a stab directly aimed at my heart. This feels like the betrayal of a lifetime. I feel like all my life, I've been lied to.

I grew up hating my father so much. His abuse gripped me, suffocating me throughout what seemed like my entire existence.

I remember being so confused. His actions made me mad, his addiction made me angry, like an animal lashing out. Yet, on the rare occasions when he was sober, I could feel the arms of hope slowly making its way to my heart, promising something better. I remember always wondering, always hopeful, always so innocent .... "Maybe this time, it's real. Maybe this time, he'll learn. Maybe this time, he'll change." Only he didn't. He doesn't. It's a vicious, never-ending cycle that made me want to rip my heart out of my chest. I remember praying and begging God to give me a switch so I could just turn off my love for him. After all, every hurt in my bones is an echo of every love I'm giving. God wasn't listening. God has never listened. And so I blamed my father! I screamed, I puked, I acted out, I cut myself, I lost myself. I blame my father. I scream, I puke, I act out, I cut myself, I lose myself. Until eventually, I freed myself from the curse of this love I had for him. I walked out the door one night and never returned. No one, not even my father, will ever have the power to hurt me that way again.

The entire world was mine, all mine, for the first time. I walked through it with a heart beginning to mend. I went to therapy with a positive disposition about my own recovery. For the first time, I felt hopeful. Slowly, very slowly, I was learning what it means to be healed.

But not quite. It wasn't entirely peaceful. Each night, a violent nudge would awaken me. Whenever my mind was generous enough to give me sleep, my body would jolt me awake, screaming, "Not yet! You have your mom to take care of. You are the eldest daughter in an Asian household."

And so, I took it upon myself to shoulder a responsibility so huge that one might think I was a teenage mom. As if I was the one who brought kids into the world without financial security. Remember, I am the eldest daughter in an Asian household.

I struggled to find the balance between supporting a family and pursuing my own dreams. So, I took a gamble. In exchange for a treasure trove filled with gold and money, I sacrificed myself. Because for those without privileges, letting capitalism abuse you is often the necessary sacrifice to put food on the table. I worked hard until I forgot what it feels like to be hungry. I worked hard until I had enough money to send my brother to school. I worked hard until I could afford anything my mom wanted. I worked so hard that I forgot how to dream. I was a machine, but I didn't care. I was stripped of my essence, but I didn't care. I have money. I got them. I got this.

Only I don't. Because when I cut off the only person who was hurting me back then—my dad—I wasn't very clear about my boundaries. I failed to make it clear that I no longer wanted him in my life. Gradually, without my realizing it, my mom was rebuilding the bridges I had burned to ashes. And before I knew it, I found myself halfway across that very same bridge. Again.

There goes the little hope. Again. There goes the little gentle whisper. Again. "Maybe he'll change. Maybe he'll learn. Maybe it's not too late." "Maybe he just needs his daughter to reconnect with him. Maybe I should be thanking my mom for this bridge."

For the millionth time, over and over and over again, I was proven wrong. But today, the pain disappeared so fast I didn't even have the chance to recognize it was gone. I didn't blame him. I didn't scream, didn't vomit, didn't act out, didn't harm myself, I didn't lose myself. Instead, I simply removed myself from his life, free of guilt, curses, sleepless nights, and love. I did it before, what's stopping me from doing it again?

My mom: she needed saving.

And so I spent years trying to make sense of her decisions and of her actions. I was so frustrated, so hurt, so betrayed. Because if you have the option to leave a household, a relationship that does nothing but hurt you, why wouldn't you?

She can't give me any answer. So I made one. "Do you know what Stockholm syndrome is? You should see my mom. " "Do you know what years of abuse does to someone? You should see my mom." "Do you know how hard it is to leave an abusive relationship? You should see my mom."

I defended her to myself, "She's your mom." I defended her to my heart, "Remember when she took care of you?" I defended her to my mind, "She's a victim, too. It's not that easy to stop a cycle."

And so very slowly, I channeled all my anger into actions driven by a desire to understand her. "Ma, usap tayo. Bakit hindi mo maiwan si papa?"

And very slowly, I saw how she defended her to herself. "Diba lalong lumalala ang mga kagaya niya kapag iniiwan? Nakakaawa." I saw how she defended her to her heart. "Naging mabuting asawa at tatay naman siya kaya ka nga nakapag aral ka/kayo." I saw how she defended her to her mind. "Wala eh, ito na ang bunga ng mga mali kong decision."

I was pleading. "But I can save you." I was begging. "Please, alis ka na. Hahanapan kita bahay, bibilihan kita ng gamit." I was hurting. "Please ma, nahihirapan na kasi ako."

And time and time and time again, I have witnessed how my parents chose their unhealthy relationship patterns over themselves. Over and over again, I've seen how my parents choose each other over us, over me, their daughter.

I thought maybe I was blaming the wrong person my entire life. Abuse is abuse. But if you have the power and the means to choose yourself, why would you allow the abuse to continue for so long? Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I should also blame the person who tolerates it? Maybe. I don't know.

And here I am, 29 years of existing, 29 years of letting them hurt me, only now mustering the courage to draw my boundaries. Burning the bridge didn't work. Here's a wall. Sitting with them and calmly talking didn't work. Here's my silence. Years of trying so hard to understand what it feels like for them to be trapped your whole life in an addiction and an abusive relationship didn't work. Here's my goodbye.

I am the eldest daughter in an Asian household. It hurts so much that I can't do anything to save them. But maybe this is no longer my fight.

I am the eldest daughter in an Asian household. It hurts so much to see them hurting each other. But maybe I already did my best and now is the time to accept the cold hard fact that I cannot do anything anymore because everything now is their choice, not mine.

Because maybe, just maybe, maybe it's not my responsibility to re-parent my parents. Because what would you do for someone who refused to be helped? Nothing. Just make peace with the fact that sometimes, loving people means doing it from a distance.

I am the eldest daughter in an Asian household. And for the first time, the world is mine.

[t31etubby]

man im on platonic dad sero brainrot. like i imagine sero would be like a doting dad towards his gn child anyway but as a yandere it would just be like <33

i love this! :0 i wasn’t sure if you wanted a child or teenage reader so i did a mix of both! i hope that’s ok!

platonic! father! yandere sero x gender neutral reader!

you were always spoiled outrageously by your doting father. he made it his mission to see you smile at least 56 times every day. and you did for the most part since he showered you with gifts, compliments, coos of affection and soft cuddles.

he just loved the way you ran to him when he came home from work. you had a smile that somehow managed to cheer him up even on his most stressful days. he loved it even more how you giggled softly when he picked you up, spinning you around and fondly saying “there’s my little baby!”

you were homeschooled of course, you’d never been to a daycare either since he was more than capable of finding a suitable nanny for you, or bringing you along to work on slow office days when he wasn’t doing hero tasks.

if you asked for public school he’d find a way to softly guilt trip you, saying “oh but sweetheart i spent so much time finding a good tutor for you…” while frowning and patting your head softly. and when you apologized for not acknowledging his efforts he’d just softly coo at you and reassure you that it’s ok, and that he understands you’re just too little to recognize how hard and exhausting being an adult really is.

on the rare occasions that you did go out it would be with him by your side. obviously he’d never drag you to an event or anything with a lot of people, since you were just so tiny and someone might accidentally step on you! so instead he opted for the local playground, pushing you on the swing and being right there the whole time in case you hurt yourself.

and if you happened to scrape your knee or bump your head at any point, he’d make a huge fuss about it. putting you on his lap and patching you up gently, while mentally preparing himself for the amount of calls he’d have to make to get this playground baby proof.

and next time you go there you’ll find that the gravel has been replaced with soft foam mats, the metal bars have soft little pillows in every corner, and the place looks like it had a whole redesign to make it more suitable for even younger kids. it wasn’t as exciting and he knew that, but at least you were safe.

at some point you started wanting friends your age, but no matter how many “please”s followed by puppy eyes and pouty lips, he never caved in.

“y/n we talked about this, you’re just too little, and people are cruel and selfish and they’ll take advantage of you the second they see how sweet and caring you are. and in the end i’m gonna be the one to clean up your mess.”

the last sentence hurt you, a lot. he didn’t realise how much it affected you until the next day when you barely spoke throughout breakfast. at first he thought you were sick and started fussing while conversing with the house staff, but they all sighed in frustration at your dads obliviousness and scolded him for how careless he was, especially since he knows how sensitive you are about feeling like a burden.

the explanation left him an emotional mess. on one hand he felt terrible for hurting your feelings, and on the other he just found it so cute how you were able to get this upset over it. you were just so sensitive! that’s even more of a reason not to let you go out into the world all alone. they’ll eat you alive!

he made it up to you of course by giving you your own personal playground in the garden, and having the kitchen staff make you your favorite dish. and of course he apologized sweetly while cooing and wiping your teary eyes.

as you grew older he found that you were becoming less affectionate, you didn’t run to him when he got home anymore, but instead just greeted him from your place in the living room or at some point when he entered your bedroom. you didn’t even give him goodnight kisses anymore! or ask him to read you stories before bed. if he tried to tuck you into bed you just forced him out!

he never expected this behaviour from you, and you certainly never seemed like the type of person to be so distant and cold. obviously you were sick or dealing with something all on your own. it melted his heart that you didn’t want to bother him with your problems, you’re just so precious!

so of course he had to take matters into his own hands, since you’re clearly not going to ask for his help on your own.

he’ll start out by doing some heavy research, spending each evening looking up what to do about fussy and distant children. but none of the methods and solutions really seemed to be appropriate for your situation, until he found a blog post of someone with the same issue, looking past the fact their child was obviously a lot younger than you.

the blogger wrote a detailed paragraph about how their kid had recently been neglectful and even somewhat disgusted of affection, how they’d frown and groan whenever they were hugged or cared for. the only time they actually sought out affection was when they got injured or scared.

so your dad figured that maybe he should try giving in, let you see for yourself just how scary the world really is. it’s no wonder you don’t understand his warnings, you’ve never known anything other than the comfort and safety of your own home.

he’d start small by reading the news out loud for you during breakfast. only choosing the most brutal articles regarding school shootings, terrorist attacks, robberies, hostage situations, and forest fires, purposefully forgetting to mention that all of these events were taking place on the other side of the world. 

this affected you a lot since you’d never read the news before, and was mostly unaware of all the horrible things happening in the world. and now you’re being told that all of these terrible acts of evil are happening right in your area.

after a few days of feeding you tragic news stories, your dad would start coming home from work and tell you about all the criminals he had to deal with that day, and just how violent and dangerous they were. 

he noticed how the bags under your eyes had gotten significantly darker, and how you would shake a bit every time you heard strange noises. you were getting paranoid, he almost had you in his grasp. 

the maids told him how you’d sometimes go to the kitchen in the middle of the night for a glass of water, a result of being shaken awake by the nightmares that seemed to occur pretty frequently. 

and then one day he invited you to a fancy dinner, assuring you that the food was to die for and the service was extremely high quality. only once you were seated at your table did he briefly mention that the place also happens to be a hotspot for dangerous criminals. 

the whole night you were shaking in your seat, narrowing your eyes at every stranger passing by, and ordering your food with a small voice. your father felt his blood boil at one point when the waiter patted your head affectionately, but then noticed how you seemed to dislike it just as much as he did. 

it made him so happy to see how much you hated being outside of your home! soon you would be completely dependent on him again, just like you were a few years ago. 

when you got home he put a hand on your shoulder and stopped you from going to your room, asking you what was wrong and tilting his head to the side as if he had no clue of the distress you were feeling.

“come on darling you’ve been shaking all evening. are you perhaps feeling a bit feverish?” he asked, putting his large palm on your forehead. 

your eyes started filling up with tears, looking up at him and blinking your eyelashes like a tiny doe. 

and the second he wrapped his big arms around you and led you to the couch, you broke down completely. sniffles turned to muffled sobs, and you got the shoulder of his t-shirt wet with your tears. 

“shh its alright sweetheart, oh i know baby, i know.” he said, gently patting your hair as you sat in his lap. 

“its just- so-..” you tried to get a few words out between your heartbreaking sobs. 

all the house staff was gone for the day since they’d gotten the rest of the weekend off for a well deserved break, so it was just the two of you in your house at this moment. you on your fathers lap, looking smaller than ever, as he rubbed your back and whispered sweet nothings in your ear. 

you were back to being his little baby once again, just the way you were always supposed to. 

and this time he’d make sure it stayed that way. 

#bnha yandere #yandere bnha x reader #platonic yandere #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero au #yandere sero #sero bnha #yandere fluff #platonic bnha #platonic yandere x reader

[thetrashywritingwitch]

“Need and Want” Bakugou x Reader x Kirishima Poly AU, Pt. 6

Summary: Bakugou (25) is a single dad of four-year old Hatsuki. Full-time Hero, full-time dad, full-time exhausted and lonely, but he’d never admit that aloud to anyone. You and Kirishima have been dating for a while and often babysit Hatsuki as Bakugou relies on everyone in his friend pool to help in a situation he never expected to find himself in but wouldn’t change for the world. He craves companionship and familial stability for his daughter but assumes no one would be good enough, not for either of them.

But maybe he’s been looking in all the wrong places.

Bakugou x Reader x Krishima Poly AU. Short drabble chapters posted sporadically. I don’t know how long this will be, it’s just an idea that I had and fleshed out with @weebonfilm and decided to write it out officially. I want to explore a healthy polyamorous relationship while also dealing with the difficulties of raising a kid in a world full of Heroes and villains.

Rating: T

Words: 3.9k

Link to Pt 1

Link to Pt 5

Silence. Horrible, excruciating silence. The kind that only filled a room when there were deep, dark secrets that no one wanted to divulge.

Kirishima ran a hand through his wild mane of bright red hair before sitting down on the couch with a tired grunt as though the weight of whatever he knew you needed to discuss had physically shoved him into the cushions.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, hands gripping onto your sleeves. Protecting, shielding yourself for the conversation you hated but needed to have.

“I think I know what this is about,” he started, avoiding your gaze. “And you’re right. I think we’ve needed to talk for a while… I was dumb to think you couldn’t notice.”

One step, two, three towards the couch before you sat down on the opposite end, the gap between you and Kirishima wider than it had felt in years. “OK… um. Maybe you should start since you obviously have some things to say. And I want to know if what you want to tell me is the same thing I need to talk to you about.”

He sighed and stared straight ahead. His arms leaned on his knees and you watched from the corner of your eye as his lip quivered the tiniest amount before being sucked in and gnawed on by his sharp teeth. “I thought,” he started before he paused, took one more deep breath, and continued. “I thought I could move on and forget over the years. I thought it wouldn’t be a big deal, that it would turn to ash and drift off so I could move on… but it didn’t.” 

You turned to him slightly, your hands wringing nervously in your lap as though an unwashable residue stuck to your skin. Against your ribs your heart beat like a drum, echoing in your ears. He hadn’t even mentioned any specifics and you were already on edge. 

“And then I met you, and for a long while it went away. I thought that having you by my side and being happy and being in love would bury everything else. Feelings are way more complicated than I thought, though.” A mirthless laugh escaped him. Empty, dry, self-deprecating. “The more time we spent together as colleagues, the harder my secret pushed to get out. But-!” He turned to you, a desperate look in his eyes. Pleading and full of guilt. “Please, (y/n). You have to believe me when I say I love you with everything I have, and if I can help it I never want to hurt you… but I have to be honest because I’d go crazy if I didn’t tell you soon.”

The lump in your throat turned hard like a rock, but you managed to swallow it. You looked into his eyes - deep and red like dried blood - and saw no lie in them. Your hand slid across the lightly textured couch cushion to find his own calloused fingers and gave them a light squeeze. “Please, Eijirou. Just tell me. Whatever it is, I want to try and work through it.”

He hung his head low, something he did on such rare occasions that you nearly forgot to breathe for a moment. “Don’t hate me.”

“I won’t.”

“I want to be with you.”

“I know, Ei.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Just tell-”

“I’m in love with Bakugou!” he blurted out, his voice strained and cracking like splintering glass. Both of you sat as still as a blanket of snow after a blizzard. Then his shoulders shook, and you knew he was crying, his uneven breath struggling to escape his lungs. “I’ve n-never said it aloud until n-now…”

There. There it was. You had suspected it for a while. The way his stare lingered on Bakugou just a moment longer than it should have. The way he backtracked if he dared say something that might so much as hint at romantic or physical attraction. The way he blushed when Bakugou drunkenly mentioned how cute the two of you were. It all made sense, and now you had the proof right in front of you that it wasn’t just your imagination. 

Jealousy didn’t come to mind immediately. Maybe it would sink in later once your brain processed your boyfriend being in love with his best friend and Hero partner like a lingering injury that didn’t show itself immediately after a car wreck. 

… But there was something you needed to add. 

“Please, say something,” he implored, head still hung low like a beaten down dog who had been caught misbehaving. 

“I… uh,” you began, your own hands shaking and your own voice wavingering unsteadily. You could already feel tears welling up at the corners of your eyes. “I’m not mad, Eijirou.”

He slowly pulled his head up to peek at you through his bright red strands, confusion evident in the pools of crimson. “Wh… why not?”

“Because.” A tear slid down your cheek, making Kirishima suck in a silent breath. Without a word, he reached up and cupped your cheek, his thumb padding against your skin as you stared at him. “Because I think I’m in love with him, too.”

His eyes burned like glowing coals, forcing you to look away in shame. Even though he’d just told you a secret he’d kept for years and had obviously anticipated some type of blowup or fight, you’d managed to divert his confession with a revelation of your own. 

You moved away from his hand on your cheek as his brows furrowed in obvious confusion. “You… you what? You can’t be serious.”

“But I am!” you yelled, your voice cracking as you spun back around to face him. “What a terrible, awful lie to tell at a time like this. It’s the truth, Eijirou.”

The chasm between you grew as he moved away to lean against the back of the couch and stare up at the ceiling. A laugh full of unbelieving ache erupted out of him suddenly like a bubbling volcano, filling the room. You’d never heard him laugh like this. 

But he laughed until tears threatened to spill over his eyes screwed tightly shut. You sat unmoving and felt frustration bubble up inside your chest. “This isn’t funny!”

“Oh, but it is! It’s fucking hilarious!” he managed to say through gasps of laughter. “I can’t… wow. This can’t be real… “ Your hands balled up into tight fists, your nails digging painfully into the skin of your palm as he slowly came down from his bizarre and sudden high. “I just told you I was in love with Bakugou, and then you turn around and tell me the exact same thing. How is that not horribly funny in a heartbreaking kind of way?”

A decorative pillow found its way into your hands. You gripped it while trying to calm yourself. His apparent disbelief at this development had manifested in the form of laughter as a coping mechanism. You, on the other hand, just felt miserable. “Ei, we need to be serious about this.”

“I’m very serious.” Hands limp at his sides, your boyfriend stared blankly up at the ceiling as though mesmerized by the hypnotizing ceiling fan. “I had fully expected that, when I finally told you, that you were going to hate me and break up with me. Even though I know you better than that. Even though we’d talk it out, I’d convinced myself that it would only end up with me having no one in the end. I mean, hell, who would wanna be with someone who is in love with his best friend?” 

The bitter laugh came back, but this time it was low and full of exhaustion. “And now,” he continued. “You flip things around so we’re both trapped in the same boat. Tell me how long you’ve known?”

You hadn’t expected the question, but figured it would come up sooner rather than later. Clearing your throat, you dug your nails into the textured fabric of the pillow. “... Uh, I’m not sure exactly. I think I realized it about a year ago,” you slowly admitted. “I thought that it was just admiration for what he was doing and how hard he was working. I was proud of him. Taking care of Hatsuki by himself… but then I realized one day that-”

“- That it was more than friendship,” Eijirou said, cutting you off. A heavy sigh left him, one that filled his lungs to max capacity before he shakily breathed it out as though hoping it would take his anxiety with it. “This was definitely not how I expected things to go… I had a feeling I was doing badly at hiding it lately. It gets harder when he’s struggling and needs help with Hatsuki but refuses to accept it. He’s always been the offense and I’ve always been the defense. The support. I want to support him in whatever way he’d let me.” He turned to you, eyes passive and devoid of the normal energy and warmth they held. “Do you still love me?”

Slowly, gingerly, you reached out and grabbed his hand once again. “Of course I do. I never stopped loving you, not for a single minute. Since we’ve been together, I always saw you in my future, in my life… and what about you? Do I… do I hold up next to Bakugou in your eyes?”

His eyes widened while his mouth twitched into a frown. “I do still love you! And don’t even compare yourself to Bakugou, because you’re very different people, just like how he and I are very different. But I come home and feel safe even though I’m the one protecting everyone outside. You’re so good to me, better than I think I deserve sometimes.”

“... But?” you asked hesitantly, feeling like he had more to say. 

“But I don’t know what to do. And I guess you don’t know what to do, either. About… this.” With his other hand, he gestured vaguely in the air as if motioning to everything. “Earlier, when you wanted to talk, did you want me to confess or did you want to confess? Was I that obvious?”

“When you looked at him the same way you always look at me, I knew,” you admitted. He rubbed at his eyes as though the soft light from the corner lamp blinded him now that his shadows had nowhere to hide. You continued. “I think… I think I wanted you to confess because I didn’t know when or if you’d do it on your own. And I was feeling so guilty that I needed an excuse to do it myself.”

His shoulders slumped, exhaustion from this conversation eating away at him. “I don’t know when I would’ve told you, honestly, if you didn’t bring it up first. And I would never have acted on those feelings, just to be clear!” he blurted out with an air of desperation to make sure you understood. “Cheating is super unmanly and I’d never want to jeopardize you or what we have… which was why I tried so hard to bury it all and pretend like it didn’t exist.”

“Ei, I know. I know you wouldn’t.” You turned to him and held his face in your hands. Exhaustion coated the lines of his face. Even his hair seemed limp to fit the heavy mood in the room. “But we need to talk about what this means.”

Tentatively, he reached forward and wrapped you up in his arms. Immediately, you eased into the warmth and safety that enveloped you as you buried your head in his neck and dug your fingers into the cotton of his shirt. “I love you,” he said, he whispered, he pleaded. “I love you, I love you.” You fed on his words like ambrosia. “But I dunno what to do either.”

Both of you remained like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, afraid to let go and face the feelings that both of you had denied and hidden from each other for so long. Eventually, though, he pulled away. “Dunno about you, but my throat feels like a desert. Water?” You wiped your eyes and nodded before he got up to grab some glasses from the kitchen. 

He downed his ice water quickly while you sipped on yours. “Well,” you started. “I don’t think we can just continue to ignore how we feel. The right thing to do would be to tell him, right?”

“No!” Kirishima blurted out before looking apologetic. “I mean, ugh, fuck. Sorry, gut reaction. You’re probably right, but that’s huge! And so much comes with that… “ He groaned and let his head fall into his hands. “I don’t know how he’d react. It could ruin our friendship between him and us. Make working together hard. And what about his kid? Hatsuki wouldn’t understand what’s going on.”

You placed a hand on his twitching shoulder. “Slow down, Eijirou. One thing at a time.” This had truly been eating away at him all these years. Being in love with your classmate, Hero partner, best friend, and having no idea how he might react to a love confession was surely a terrifying ordeal for his emotional sanity. “One, I think you’re wrong about Hatsuki. She’s much smarter and more intuitive than most people give her credit for.” Red strands of hair fell across his face as he looked up at you. “She’s Bakugou’s kid, after all. And as far as I can tell, kids have an easier time accepting things. They aren’t coded with as much prejudice as adults so long as they aren’t taught those types of things; and I’m sure the worst Bakugou teaches her are accidental curse words.”

That managed to get a small chuckle out of your boyfriend - the first one since before Bakugou had arrived to pick up Hatsuki. “You’re so smart and observant. Way smarter than me-”

“Ei, that’s not true at all! You’re very smart!”

He sat up and shrugged before laying right back down with his head on your thigh. “Doesn’t feel like it sometimes. But anyway, I think Bakugou is the biggest unknown. Say, hypothetically, we tell him and he reacts badly or is… “ It looked like a stone was lodged in his throat from how much difficulty it took to finish his sentence. “Disgusted.”

The word stung like wincing away from a flash of gore in an otherwise emotion-driven movie. Having one of you confess feelings for him would be one ordeal, but both? Would Bakugou call himself a homewrecker on the assumption that your relationship was now ruined even though he’d done nothing wrong? Would he shield his daughter away from both of you to protect her? Or would something completely unexpected turn up in this erratic roller coaster of love confessions?

None of these questions you had answers to. So, the only thing you could do was comfort your boyfriend while also taking care of yourself. Slowly, you brought your hand up to cup around the other side of his head, bringing him to your shoulder while petting his hair gingerly. He looked so heartbroken, his normally bright eyes full of excited enthusiasm now dull and lifeless like matte paint. A wounded puppy who had knocked over something precious and now hid with its tail between its legs. 

“Ei, you probably know him better than anyone. Yeah, he still can be a bit unpredictable… but in other respects it’s extremely easy to pinpoint what he’ll say or do.” You felt the reverberations as he hummed against your shoulder. 

“This is different, though. How can you anticipate something that’s never happened before?” Eijirou had a point, frustrated though you were to admit it. Knowing how Bakugou would take his best friend and his best friend’s girlfriend, confessing their love to him felt like shooting fish in a barrel fifty feet away in the middle of the night. “But maybe we’re dwelling on the wrong things.” 

Sitting up, he turned to you with a surprising vigor in his eyes - something that had been completely absent since Bakugou arrived to pick up Hatsuki. Grabbing your shoulders, he blurted out, “What if he says ‘yes’?”

“... Yes to what?” 

“Yes to being with us! Both of us! Wouldn’t that be great?” Over the years, his self esteem had improved greatly. Sometimes, he’d even turn on a dime when he’d catch himself dwelling too much on the negative. Maybe he’d decided to lift the mood with an extreme hypothetical. 

“You mean, like, accepting us?” He nodded and gave you a tired smile. The thought sent a bit of warmth into your face since you hadn’t even considered what that possibility would look like. “What would that entail? I mean, we’d all… co-parent Hatsuki?”

Intertwining his rough fingers with yours, he leaned his forehead against yours and whispered, “Yeah. You could be the mom she wants - that you want to be. That I know you can be.” 

Your eyes widened and your heart echoed in your chest like a rhythmic drum. Hatsuki’s mom? Take care of her? Empower her? Help her through life and watch her grow up with a front row seat rather than from the shadowed aisle? You didn’t realize you were crying until Ejirou wiped a tear away. 

“Babe, I've said it before: you’d make such a good mom. And the other night, Bakugou said it too - if that isn’t his stamp of approval, I dunno what is.” 

A gross-sounding sniffle bubbled up in your nose. “Really? But, Ei… don’t get my hopes up,” you choked out. “I can’t… I can’t think about that and be let down. Let her down a second time. Break her little heart even though I’d be more than honored if Bakugou wanted me involved in that way.”

Eijirou sighed and wound his fingers into the mess of hair behind your ears. “I know. I just… if you wanna think about options, then we should think about the good ones, too. Make sure we know what we’re getting into if we actually tell him, you know?”

You reached behind you and grabbed a tissue box to wipe your face. “Yeah, I get it. But in that case, what about the other stuff that doesn’t have to do with Hatsuki? Like, uh…” The tissue in your hands became nothing more than ripped-up shreds as you picked at it nervously. “The whole dating part with all three of us. Everything we do except, you know, with Bakugou, too?”

“Not to be horny on main, but-”

“Ei!” Talking about things like this with your boyfriend was one thing, but to talk about all the relationship aspects with someone new in the mix made your throat shrivel up. 

“Sorry! You saying you’ve never thought about it? We both admit how we feel. And I mean, did you see how he looked tonight in his date attire? C’mon. Say it…” Eijirou pinched your warm cheek and wiggled his brows, his depressing mood seemingly gone and replaced with the thought of Bakugou’s butt. “Admit it.”

“Oh, god, fine. Yes, he’s hot! You’re both very attractive men! Maybe I have a thing for red eyes, I dunno!” At that admission, he actually laughed and brought you into a crushing hug. “God, you’re so weird…” 

Kirishima chuckled. “And you love me anyway, right?” Your answer was burying your face in the warmth of his neck and wrapping your arms up and around his broad back. “Thought so.”

Both of you spent the rest of the night planning and discussing this whole situation. Talking about it made both of you feel better about the whole thing… well, as good as you could feel in regards to being in love with someone else, anyway. 

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Bakugou had just dressed Hatsuki for bed after an exhausting evening on his first date in years. She’d had endless questions about where he was, what he was doing, who he was with, etc. Deflecting every one felt like dodging bullets. 

“Daddy-”

“No more questions tonight. It’s bedtime.” He was wise to Hatsuki’s pouting, but she still tried to sway him every chance she got. 

“Will you go out again?” she asked as he tucked her in, safe and warm. Her bedroom door was cracked open, leaving a beam of light from the hallway to stream into her bedroom and highlight her eyes that mirrored his own. 

Sighing, Bakugou grabbed one of her stuffed animals and set it on her pillow. “Not with this person, no.”

“Why not?” 

“No more questions-”

“Pleeeeeeease?” she begged, her voice laced with the sweetest, stickiest honey to keep him there as long as possible. 

Bakugou tried to run his hand through his hair before he remembered that he’d styled it with gel. How the hell did Kirishima deal with this shit all the time? “We just didn’t click. When you know you like someone, and want to spend more time with them, it feels right.”

“Oh.” He wasn’t sure if she understood, but it was as good an answer as he could muster for the time being. “I bet lots of people like you. I like you, daddy.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat before leaning down and kissing the top of her head. “I know, firecracker. Sleep tight. If you need anything, my door is open.” 

“Mm night, daddy.” Hatsuki yawned and snuggled up to the stuffed animal before Bakugou padded silently out of her room and closed the door. 

With his daughter finally asleep, he could breathe easy… at least, that’s what he wanted to do. He made his way to the bathroom and turned on the bright fluorescent light before staring at himself in the mirror. 

Still in his date outfit, Bakugou frowned, the lines of his face hard and shadowed under the unforgiving light. He didn’t know what he’d wanted to happen tonight. A spark? Some flashing sign telling him he was making the right decision? A stupidly cliche feeling of his heart beating out of his chest? 

None of that happened. Instead, as he listened to them drone on about shit he pretended to care about, he couldn’t help but visualize a very different date: one with two of his closest friends at his side. Hell, his date probably thought he was grinning at them rather than at his own imagination. Even though they’d asked about Hatsuki and seemed nice enough, he could already tell that his daughter would turn her nose up. Just like her dear old dad, she was notoriously picky about everything. And, in this case, her opinion on someone was the deciding factor. He’d never bring anyone into his life who Hatsuki didn’t like. 

His nails dug painfully into his sweaty palms. It wasn’t fucking fair - none of it. Maybe it was selfishness. Maybe it was jealousy. Whatever it was, Bakugou didnt know what the fuck to do about it. 

The way Hatsuki laughed whenever Kirishima lifted her into the air. The way she latched onto your neck when you held her when she got her quirk. The way Kirishima’s eyes - red like his own, but oh so different - captured the sunlight perfectly when he smiled. The way you worried your lip between your teeth when you were nervous. The way you both, in love, looked at each other. Bakugou wanted… he wanted… !

“Fuck… fuck!” He whimpered before shakily leaning on the counter and turning on the water to drown out his dry sobs so Hatsuki wouldn’t hear. 

He was in love with both you and Kirishima, and every time he denied it, the hairline cracks on his heart grew and splintered until he wasn’t sure how much more it would take before it shattered completely.

LINK TO PART 7!!

__________________________________

There are, I think, a couple more parts to this! If you want to be added to the tag list, let me know!

Tag list: @bigdickkiri @iidiamonddogii @blue-skies0409 @sadpsychologist @frenchspeakingfilipina @effmigentlywithachainsaw @embersofstardust @autoblocked @howlett–lola @lostnliterature @stormydragongirl @new-noveltea @dpqssmdd @thecryingsombra @weasleys-wizard-weasleys @kittygonyan @iamarandomfruit @peppermintkiddo @alex-sinotaku @lecolibribleu @spicycinnamac @cityofdespair9 @sauce-pansexuals @moonmin-miya

#bakugou x reader #kirishima x reader #bakugou x reader x kirishima #bnha poly au #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #single dad au

[barbasbodaciousbeard]

Back Before You Lost the One Real Thing You've Ever Known

Summary: Rebecca spent over a year trying to coax feelings back out of Rafael Barba, only to have it all end abruptly when he lashed out. The attorney wasn’t able to fight the urge to fire first. When he needed comfort, she tried to reach out to no avail, but she’s been able to steel herself now. After all, creating a life changes you.

Pairings: Rafael Barba x OC

First Part

A/N: A few more ideas came up. 

Oh, your sweet disposition And my wide-eyed gaze We're singing in the car, getting lost upstate

Rebecca should have known better than to try and be there for Rafael Barba. She’d met him when she’d had to testify to what she’d walked in on in another Kindergarten classroom, the one eventually taken over by Al. He’d prepped her, and conversation came easily between the pair. After he’d gotten his guilty verdict, he’d asked her to get celebratory drinks now that the ordeal was over. They’d met several times throughout the investigation and trial, and Rebecca saw a determination to put abusers away and a quick wit that led her to accept his invitation eagerly. What she didn’t realize was that while her infatuation with the handsome prosecutor grew, so would the issues they ran into. It wasn’t easy for him to express anything but the cocksuredness he portrayed in the courtroom. Once he relaxed, he’d sing along to the radio or tell her stories from his childhood, but she sensed a careful wall.

At first, she’d assumed the wall was a sign of maturity; he was significantly older, though she hadn’t guessed it at first. As thirty came closer for her, fifty was coming closer for him. Maybe that was why he was so hesitant to tell her what was going through his head. He was always fine, but he’d had longer to learn to be fine. Meanwhile, she’d come home and cry because she couldn’t fix the fact that her student’s dog had died or they couldn’t afford lunch. Often, he’d stare at her, and she was certain he was thinking how ridiculous she was. Each time she gave him a defense, telling him that she prayed she’d never be numb to these feelings like some of her colleagues. To her, it was a sign she was feeling, and she strived to love without expectation. And each time, he’d hold her close and tell her that her extreme empathy was what he liked so much.

And despite his hesitance to share, he was sweet overall. When he learned how much she’d been wanting to sneak away to the mountains, he rented them a cabin. She’d watched the trees go by, in awe as she watched paths wind through the woods. On occasion, her hand would fly to his arm, and she would squeal as she pointed out an animal in the woods. She could remember the soft smile he’d affixed her with, the first time she was sure he did love her. It had been six months, and she’d been assuring him she loved him for three. It was hard for her not to hear it back, and anytime she felt jealous of the points her friends were at in their relationships, she’d remind herself he wasn’t as open as their partners. Being significantly older didn’t make him immune from hang ups. He’d sung her the sappy songs that came up with his phone on shuffle, and Rebecca couldn’t have predicted the way this would all sour a short year later. When she closed her eyes, she could still see him with a crooked smile and her hand in his, serenading her with a Frank Sinatra song.

After wishing and praying for him to come home, he was standing there, still with devastatingly gorgeous eyes and now with a sprinkling of gray in his hair and new beard. His dress wasn’t as meticulous as it used to be, and part of her wondered if he had intended to come here at all. Dark jeans and a tucked in button down shirt? In the city? The snow clung to his hair and beard and lashes, but she could suddenly feel everything all too well. The way she felt about him, the way his hands felt on her skin, his lips on hers, the insecurity when he couldn’t share, the overwhelming relief when he did. And now he was standing there, saying he loved her and she didn’t have to believe him. Tha last part was the hardest because it did let her start to consider that he’d never been so okay with uncertainty. He’d always been the one to say you know how I feel, or once he’d said it, you know I love you. She was always supposed to take what he said as fact, and now he wasn’t expecting it. 

Time won't fly, it's like I'm paralyzed by it I'd like to be my old self again But I'm still trying to find it

When he’d said he loved her, it was late at night, and she wasn’t positive he knew she was awake. He’s said it with such sincerity, however, that she wrapped her arm tighter around him, hearing his sharp intake of breath. It would be a year the following week, and relief washed over her to have something she knew to be true so easily confirmed. I love you, he’d repeated so easily, nuzzling into the crook of her neck as his fingers trailed up her sides. For Rafael, touch was what he used to say what he couldn’t with words. If he couldn’t tell her, he could show her, and that had worked for her. But now? As he laid over her, they moved together, and she could hear his whispered, reverent I love yous? There were no words. But in the weeks afterwards, things began to deteriorate, and she focused on the fact he was probably grappling with the shift and the fear she’d do to him what Yelina had. That said, she wasn’t going to bend her life to his trauma. He was old enough to know he needed help but too stubborn to get it. She’d been so excited to share her plans with Al. They were the two kindergarten teachers at the small school they taught at, and the last partner she’d had was stand offish and now in prison, thanks to Rafael. 

Just get a fuckin’ room already.

Raf, he’s my coworker. We’re friends.

You know exactly what he wants from you, and you want it too. 

What are you saying? I’m a slut or something? You know you’re it for me.

A spade’s a spade.

Crushed was an understatement. She’d gone home, spent weeks working through things at least enough to leave him a letter. He wasn’t a bad guy, and the guilt she felt for slapping him was overwhelming. He’d opened up to her recently, told her his dad had been abusive. And she slapped him? It was different, she knew, but still, Rebecca was incapable of not apologizing to him for any negative response he could have. 

And as time went on, she couldn’t go back to who she was before. Things had been irrevocably shifted by Rafael, and she began to be more hesitant with new people. She’d loved Rafael in a way she hadn’t before, felt she understood him as she hadn’t before. And she thought he’d understood her. The implication she’d cheat so easily and make him feel like she knew Yelina had was enough to give her a wall she hadn’t before. 

After all, creating life changes you.

Al had been the first one to comment on it. After weeks on the phone with him in hysterics, she’d started just saying she was fine. There had been dozens of phone calls to Rafael between Christmas and the new year, and he’d ignored each. She felt weak for how badly he’d managed to hurt her and how unable she was to find the beauty in it. Each night, she’d try to sleep and see every moment they’d spent together running through her mind like an old projector, flickering as it moved from the reel of Rafael in the three piece suit balancing coffee as he came to visit her while she prepped in July to the one of him begrudgingly joining her on a hike in the mountains. 

You’re not okay, Bec. Me and Rodney are worried about you.

It’s nothing.

It’s not nothing, okay? 

It’s nothing.

It took until Rafael’s trial for Rebecca to drop the black and white image on Al’s desk, her name and six weeks, four days in small letters at the top and a fetal ultrasound visible. Al stared at it, finding the date and doing the math, the realization she was ten weeks along. He looked up at her with wide eyes, pulling her into a hug. As Al cooed she’d be okay against her temple, promised to support whatever she did and murder Rafael if need be, she cried into his jacket. She didn’t go back to her apartment for three days, instead staying in Al and Rodney’s spare bed and avoiding the news. After Al’s encouragement, she emailed Rafael finally, calling the matter time sensitive, but she never heard back.

'Cause there we are again when I loved you so, back before you lost the one real thing you've ever known. It was rare. I was there. I remember it all too well.

It was easy, even three years after the last time she saw him, to transport herself to the seat beside his, and as she looked into his eyes where he stood on her stoop, the snow clinging to his beard and hair and the deep gray jacket, she wanted to cry because things weren’t as easy as they were four and a half years before. Their daughter was born the August after he left, and Rebecca didn’t know how to tell Rafael that what had changed was so cosmic. God had given her this little girl, now two and a half, eagerly waiting on Christmas eve the next night. The little girl who Rebecca had felt she was supposed to let know who her father was. She could recognize Rafael, though without the suits and with the beard, Rebecca thought there was a chance the little girl wouldn’t know. It suddenly struck her how easily Catalina could get out of the toddler bed she’d moved to, and the real possibility she’d call down for water or a story at any moment. 

She’d taken her to the same church she attended with Rafael, sat in the same pew. After giving birth, Rebecca had tried going by his apartment, finding it rented out and receiving the news he was in Iowa. She’d never met his mother, and Rebecca didn’t want to approach anyone in case he wanted nothing to do with them. Al and Rodney had been a blessing, always eager to step in to babysit or give her the adult company she needed. Their daughter looked almost infuriatingly like her father, with expressive green eyes and thick dark hair. She’d also make the same faces as him from time to time. One of the pictures framed in the living room showed her with her mouth set in the same frustrated line as she rolled her eyes in a huff. Every reminder rubbed the wound open again, but she’d gotten tougher.

Creating a life changes you.

“Rafael, no one had ever hurt me like that.” He had the decency to look ashamed, maybe even more than he needed to, and shift his weight from foot to foot. 

“I know. I was so afraid, Becca. I thought I loved Yelina. I didn’t. I was forty-six, falling really, actually in love for the first time. I felt stupid and afraid, and I lost the only good thing I had. The only person who loved the fucked up, broken parts.”

“I was there, Rafael. I was calling. I even emailed.”

“You emailed?”

“After the trial. About two weeks later.”

“Dios mio,” he ran his hand over his face, letting out a low groan. “You emailed my work email, didn’t you?”

“It’s the only one you use.”

“I resigned the day I was found not guilty. Mi corazón, I lost access that day.”

“You never got my email?”

“No. I ignored your calls, and that was stupid. But I’d have taken any communication then.”

“We’re going to need to talk about something then.”

“Who is he?” The way Rafael had resigned himself to the idea she moved on was something she’d expected to feel hurt by. Instead, she saw his face free of anger. “Becca, I want you to be happy. If someone else could make you happy, I’m glad.”

“Raf-” she could hear the slightest movement. It was ten o’clock and every night around this time, she’d give Catalina a cup of water or lay with her until she slept again. 

“Oh god, you’re with someone else and he’s here? I can go. I just- I had to try.”

“No. There’s no one else. It’s just-”

“Mama!” she heard echo down the stairs, and Rafael’s eyes snapped to hers.

“Mama?” he asked, and she opened the door to him finally. 

“I have to get her back to sleep. Go sit at the dining table.”

#rafael barba #rafael barba x oc #rafael Barba x reader #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu #writing

[bestie-enthusiast]

Chapter 3: Sam Fills in, Zemo is not Impressed (and also has his first therapy appointment)

Hello!! This is the third chapter of my PTA! Dad! Zemo fic. This is the fifth installment of 11, and the previous chapters can be found under the hashtag pta dad zemo.

Fic Summary: After the untimely death of both his wife and father due to a bombing, Baron Helmut Zemo takes his son and immigrates to America. He does not expect to find a family nor a romantic partner, and he especially does not expect to find the ability to heal. To grieve.

And yet, here we are.

This is a story about connections, growing, healing and mourning the past while still appreciating the future and all it has to offer.

Chapter WC: 1731

Fic below cut if you're interested!

Three days later.

Zemo frowned slightly as he listened to Carol’s rant. She had called an “emergency” PTA meeting (and he was fairly certain she paid the principal to let her do it), but there was no real emergency. Instead all Carol was doing was going on and on about how her son was being “bullied” for his lack of potty training. Her child was in fourth grade, of course the other children were making fun of him.

Even worse was that Sarah hadn’t been able to come in, she was at work, and so her brother had come instead. Zemo had met him only once, at a charity event the school was hosting, and he was not at all subtle in his distaste for Zemo. So he sat in silence listening to Carol’s ranting. No one was in the mood to tell her to shut up, so they all just sat there and waited for her to tire herself out.

Once Carol was done seething she looked at them expectantly, but no one said anything. No one dared to move an inch as they waited for Carol to completely calm down. Eventually, Carol stormed out with a huff and everyone let out a collective sigh of relief. A few people stood up, and Zemo stood after them. He started to walk out when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He instinctively tensed up but turned around. It was Sam.

“Sorry to bother you man, but Sarah said your, uh, butler was with AJ and Cass at a park? Sarah didn’t tell me where, so could I tag along with you?” He asked awkwardly, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he spoke.

“Of course.” Zemo said, nodding. Sam trailed behind him quietly as they began their walk. Zemo almost forgot he was there, with how silent he was being. He thought about all the things he’s ever said or done to hurt any member of the Wilson family, hoping he could think of something to apologise for. He couldn’t think of anything he hadn’t already apologised for or done something to make up for, so he assumed Sam had a different reason to not like him. He didn’t wish to assume it was because of his financial state.

Eventually they made their way to the park, where Oeznik was dutifully watching over Carl, AJ, and Cass. He gave a muttered goodbye to Sam and hurried over to Carl, gently leading him away and following Oeznik to the car.

He absentmindedly listened to Carl talk about his school day as he pulled open his messenger app. He texted Sarah, just to make sure she was okay and not because Sam filling in had reminded him of how lonely he actually was. Sarah texted him back that she was busy with work, and then asked why Sam was so pissed at him. He replied that he didn’t know and she just sent back an eye roll emoji, so he let the conversation end.

He conversed with Carl on the rest of the way back, reminding himself that Sarah was just an acquaintance, and that he shouldn’t let himself get distracted from the only thing that actually mattered, that being Carl.

Sure Sarah was the only person who he trusted outside of Carl and Oeznik, but Carl was the only person that actually mattered to him any more. His consultation with Dr. Raynor was tomorrow, and while he was initially enthusiastic at the prospect, he now regarded the appointment with dread.

After letting out a quiet sigh, Zemo plastered on a large, fake grin, and helped Carl with his school work while Oeznik prepared dinner. He helped Carl get ready for bed, but tonight he did not even bother attempting to fall asleep. He holed himself up in his office, working on things until his hands shook and cramped and his vision grew blurry, at which point he took a cold shower, and resumed work.

Eventually it came time for him to get ready, so he gently woke up Carl to tell him he had an early meeting out of town, but he would be back in time to collect him from school. Carl nodded sleepily and Zemo quietly got dressed, did his hair, and carefully completed his skin care routine.

Once he was satisfied with his appearance, he got into his car and started the long commute to Dr. Raynors office. If he decided to keep her as his full time therapist, he would need to find a shorter way to her office, or perhaps have only phone sessions.

He arrived fifteen minutes early, and spent the time analyzing the decor of her office and fiddling with his phone. Soon enough it was his own name being called. He stood and entered the office, shaking hands with Dr. Raynor when she offered.

“And you are… Helmut Zemo, correct?” He nodded, so used to the mispronunciation of his first name on the rare occasions it was used that he couldn’t be bothered to correct her.

“Yes, but I prefer to be referred to by just my last name.” Mentally he tacked on, ‘because you Americans say it wrong and I can’t be expected to deal with that.’

“Sure.” She said, writing something down in her notebook. “So I’ve looked over all your paperwork, but I want to know, coming from you directly, why you are here.” She said, and it didn’t sound at all like a question, more like a straight fact.

“I suffer from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, you specialise in that.” He said simply, it was the main reason anyway. He did not comment on how he believed their personalities would match, as he was only here for her to consult on whether or not she would take him on as a patient.

“Right,” She said, rolling her eyes. Zemo held back a smile, she rather reminded him of his wife- oh.

She would not work as his therapist. He thought that she would work well, as she could call him out when he refused to do it himself, but no. Talking to her, talking about his emotions to her, would just remind him too much of Heike. Zemo struggled to keep a smirk on his face, or at the very least a neutral look, while she asked him questions. He responded at least somewhat honestly, and then they continued.

“So I’m going to be honest with you, I really only take on patients that peak my interest, and you haven’t.” Zemo held back a wince at the admission, although he supposed he was purposefully making himself that way. He only talked about his time as a Sokovian soldier, not at all about the loss of his wife (or father, but that issue was buried so deep that he forgot about it on occasion), or his obsession over Carl’s schooling and keeping him happy. He did not mention the fact that he felt a rather immense amount of guilt for feeling any sort of attraction, or that he was lonely. And he purposefully kept his face as straight and closed as he possibly could throughout their entire conversation. And so Zemo couldn’t help but relax a tad bit at the statement. No wife-like therapist for him, her death was not an issue he was ready to tackle yet like he thought when he made the appointment.

“Are you- Are you relieved?” She asked incredulously, and Zemo only blinked. She had noticed the slight change in his posture when she had said that. Oops.

“I could tell we were not going to get along.” Zemo replied, and it was the truth. Or partial truth? They would get along, rather spectacularly, according to all the personality assessments the people who left reviews had said. That's what he didn’t want though, he wanted to be detached and unreliant on whichever therapist he acquired, he would become far too attached to Dr. Raynor due to her similar personality to his wife.

“That is utter bullshit. You read the reviews before coming, you knew what I was like before you even came into this room. Why are you relieved I don’t want you as my patient?” Zemo frowned and licked his lips, he was not about to tell her about his wife before they ever had a proper session. “That information is… confidential. And you are not my confidant.” Zemo replied snarkily, who did this woman think she was? She already said no, and yet here she was, still questioning him?

“I’ve changed my mind, you are a very interesting case.” Zemo didn’t know how to feel about that.

“That’s all well and good, but I’m afraid I have not changed mine.” Zemo said, giving the doctor one last, polite, smile before standing up. She stood up as well and he held out his hand for a shake, which she did.

“If you reconsider, you know my number.” She said, before letting go. He nodded and started to walk out the door. Once he was in the waiting room he was surprised to find James sitting in there, fiddling with his phone. Carefully keeping his footsteps quiet, he kept his head down and walked past James, who looked up.

“Zemo?” James asked in surprise, and he turned around to give James a smile, a real one.

“Ah, hello Mr. Barnes.” Zemo greeted back, feeling the all too familiar flutter in his heart at the sight of James. Guilt and shame crashed over him like they did every time he felt that flutter, but it didn’t deter it in the slightest.

“Bucky, please. I didn’t know you knew Dr. Raynor,” James commented with a small smile.

“Y-yes well, I’m just here for a consultation appointment.” Zemo stuttered, that smile made his heart do things, such as sending blood southwards. “Well, Dr. Raynor is the best at what she does.” James responded with a smirk, and a shrug. Zemo gave him another smile, a quick wave, and then he was on his way. As soon as he was out of the building he called Dr. Raynor left her a voicemail stating he had changed his mind, and would like to become a regular client. Seeing James every so often in a non-school setting would be worth it, maybe he’d get to see that smile pointed at him again.

Tagging: @morganbritton132 (Who came up with this AU) and @i-ll-be-the-moon (Who is a great and suportive friend!)

#pta dad zemo #tfatws #zemo #helmut zemo #baron zemo #fatws #fanfiction #james barnes #bucky #bucky barnes #tfatws fanfiction #fanfic #no powers au #au #au fanfiction #no powers #sarah wilson #oc #ofc #carl zemo #aj and cass #fluff #angst #hurt/comfort #cuteness #grief #mourning #carol west #winterbaron #sam wilson

[19mrs-barnes17]

As Long As I Can Get -  Chapter Two: Fairfield

Summary: Y/N Fairfield has spent the last 10 years pushing past all the hurt and putting all her focus into her career. A familiar face back in town threatens the peace she found. [prompt: Small Town Lovers AU]

Part: 2/5

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (AU)

Warnings: at a hospital, mentions of death and abandonment

Word count: 3,198

A/N: It’s been a wild week but here it is, chapter two! Enjoy! Special thanks to @wxntersoldiers​ for beta reading.

~

“Y/N? You think you could pick up my shift tonight? Missy is running a fever and I can’t get ahold of my mother to come take care of her.” Holding the phone away from her face Y/N sighed heavily as she rolled out of bed.

“Of course Dawn, just call in for me and tell them I’m on my way would ya? Thanks, it’s no biggie. I’m happy to help, let me know how Missy is doing later.” Hanging up the phone she’s up and changing in a flash, quickly moving across her apartment and back. 

Within 6 minutes she’s in her scrubs and locking her apartment door, rushing down the stairs and out the front in another 3. She slides into the driver's seat, buckles in, and on the road to the highway in record time. 

This was becoming a routine every week, someone would have an emergency and she’d be asked to pick up the slack. Her regular shifts at the ER in town kept her busy through the day, but her Thursday or Friday nights were often filled up by favors and desperate calls. She had a limit though, each person could only ask her one favor a month and she would cover one emergency. But when the emergencies came she could tell when they were real or just another masked favor. So by now the only emergency usually came from a mother whose kid was hurt or sick. 

Pulling into the employee parking lot, she exited her car and speed walked into the building, making her way to the sign in at the station. She prayed this would be a tame night and that Dawn didn’t have any difficult new patients because she was far too tired to argue about something that she was more of an expert on. 

Covering for Dawn was usually not too bad, most of her patients typically being older and gentle folk who treated her like a loving grandkid. Always gave her some nickname, rarely ever calling her nurse or even her name. All of which was fine by her.

Being a nurse hadn’t always come easy for her, remembering all the medications, the proper doses, the schedules, and how to do every aspect of her job was a lot to take in. But the moments in which she connected with a patient were the reason she got into the specific role in the medical field. Well that and her father.

Most of her family had joined the field, all three of her brothers had either become paramedics or a physical therapist. Her mother was the chief physician at the ER in Brightbarrow and her father was a private care nurse typically working with elderly or terminal members of the town. On a few occasions he had brought her along to see his patients, acting as a distraction for those who were living with severe pain. Through these visits in her childhood she began to realize how she enjoyed helping people who were hurting, and giving them a sense of peace for a little while.

One college degree later and she was back in town applying to work in the ER, her scheduled shifts hardly ever including weekends unless someone needed a cover and she was the only one who could spare the time. Her work there was routine, but here at this hospital outside town? She had found some gentle souls that brightened her day.

“Oh my, is that you Sunshine?” Claudia was sitting up in the hospital bed, remote in her hand to flip through the limited channels. “What a lovely surprise.”

“How are we tonight? Take our medicine okay today?” Claudia smirks and nods, the crinkles in the corners of her eyes forming as a flicker of mischief shines in her eyes. “Mhhmm.”

“I have somethin’ for ya sunshine. Made it yesterday when they let me do some crafts.” Claudia reaches to the table rolled off to the side of her bed and picks up a bracelet with rainbow thread. Y/N walks over to the woman and allows her to gently tie off the multicolored bracelet around her wrist. “There, perfect size.”

“Thank you Claudia, that’s awfully kind of you.” A smile is shared between the two before Y/N motions for her to hand over the remote. “Now how about we shut this off and I read you a little something so you can doze off, sound good?”

“Only if it's that one you told me about, the one with the little guys.” Y/N chuckled at the description but nodded in agreement nonetheless as she powered down the television and left to get her novel. 

“Alright get comfy now.” She waited for Claudia to adjust her bed and helped her with the pillows before cracking open the small book and beginning the tale. “In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit.”

“Ah that’s what they were, that’s right. Hobbits.”

At the end of her shift Y/N was exhausted and ready for bed, doing her best to keep wide awake on her drive back by playing her dad’s favorite rock station. Thankfully it did the trick and she made it into town without issue, turning down the volume and switching stations as she made her way through the town like she’d done a million times before.

Turning onto her street she was perplexed to notice a man walking the sidewalks this late in the night, his movements slow and steady. The closer she got to him the sooner she realized she knew exactly who the man was and she had some theories about what was keeping him up so late. Pulling to the side of the road she exited her car, slamming the door shut behind her before glancing up to meet the gaze of a man she hadn’t seen in ages.

Bucky Barnes stood across the street staring at her like he’d seen a ghost, his features painted with something along the lines of guilt or sorrow. The man was frozen in place by her, his eyes watching as she raised a sleepy hand to wave at her old friend. To her surprise he waved back and yet he didn’t move a muscle as she turned away from him to head to bed. 

The next morning she woke late, the Saturday sun shining through the cracks of her blinds stirring her from her sleep. Her stomach grumbled, craving some of Winifred Barnes’ cooking ASAP. Instead of driving she opted to walk over there, let the sun and the exercise wake her a little more.

Winnie’s Diner was the town staple, the place that every person went at least a few times a week. It was the kind of business that had become the heart of the town, the comfort and hospitality center. If you wanted to get a feel for the town you didn’t have to look any further than this diner, it was where Y/N had gotten her first job. She had one of her first dates in a corner booth and had been stood up in another. This building was a hub of memories, good and bad.

“Hey Y/N! Have a seat. I'll be right with you girl.” Becca was zooming around the place in a graceful hurry, placing plates and clearing tables as she went. “What can I get ya?”

“A coffee, a biscuit, some bacon, and an update. Please.” She watched as her best friend shook her head with a reluctant nod before dropping off the order. 

Once the coffee was poured she told her brother she was taking her 15 and slid into the other half of the booth. Y/N sat patiently, prepping her coffee as she waited for Becca to collect her thoughts.

“He’s back for good, got a job working for Thomas Geldin constructing those new homes over by your parent’s house.” Sipping her coffee Y/N did her best not to allow her emotions to betray her. 

“What changed?” 

“Not sure. He seems different, like his load is heavier. Almost like he was when Daddy died, just emotionally cut off and distant. But he is making an effort to get closer and he comes in here every day for his lunch break. Which is in a few minutes now.” Y/N coughed, nearly choking on her coffee as her eyes went wide. 

“Sneak.”

“Hey don’t look at me, you two just are fated to dine at the same time.” Becca smirks before rushing off to grab something to eat before her break ends. 

She hadn’t actually spoken a word to Bucky since he came back to town, and yet he suddenly lived across the street and worked by her old home. Now he would be here within minutes and she would once more feel compelled to initiate conversation, but she wouldn’t let herself. If he wanted to talk he would approach her, not the other way around. 

He arrived the same time her food did, his eyes scanning the room to presumably locate his sister but freezing on Y/N who sat before her. A mixture of emotions flashed across his features rapidly before settling on a guilt ridden expression. Bucky approached the booth, his sister pausing to greet him and casting a wink over her shoulder before speeding away. Standing before the booth he shifted his weight nervously as he seemed at a loss for what to say. His eyes are no longer able to maintain contact and he casts them to the empty seat.

Don’t invite him. Don’t invite him. It took all her strength to refrain from being polite, her eyes never leaving him as her gaze intensified.

“Mind if I join you?” Her heart dropped, she was expecting a simple hello or quick apology and not a full on meal with the guy. She nodded her head, refusing to take the bait just yet as he slid into the booth.

“Here’s your usual James.” Becca slid a plate with a steak and cheese melt and fries onto the table before rushing off again. She was pushing him, Y/N knew that his mother and the older townspeople were the only ones who used his actual name. To everyone else he was Bucky. 

“I’m sorry about not keeping in touch, there’s been a lot that I had to work through the past 10 years.” God she could hardly believe it had been that long since he left, an entire decade had passed by without him. “Can we start again?”

Once more she had to use all her might to restrain herself from instantly agreeing and forgiving what he had done. She didn’t understand why he cut her off so quickly and completely, their friendship wilting through high school and fading in the decade following. But she knew why he had become so emotionally reserved, after watching his father wither away slowly and gradually lose the ability to even function Bucky had begun to close himself off from everyone. He smiled less, got into more trouble with other kids, and barely made it enough to enlist. 

Sure she had missed him dearly and knew he had suffered greatly, probably even worse after his service, but she couldn’t risk getting too quickly attached again. Not when she knew how much his leaving her behind tore her apart. 

“I’ll have to think about it.” She could see her words striking a nerve within him, his appetite diminishing. “But I’d like to.”

His eyes snap up to meet hers, relief flooding them as he gazes at her fondly. Y/N wanted desperately to forget it all but she knew that proceeding with caution was the best course of action. She would let him have the opportunity to rectify his past mistakes, but it was up to him to take it.

“City noise or quiet town?” He knit his brow and gave her a perplexed look before taking a bite of a fry. “Pick one.”

“I’m not sure I have a preference anymore.”

“But you had one.”

“City noise.” She shook her head with a small smile, curiosity overtaking her careful approach. “Drowned everything out.”

“Patty’s coffee or city coffee?”

“Patty will forever have the world’s best coffee. No one in New York believed me, kept saying European coffee was where it was at.” 

“I’m going to move on before I get so offended I bring her coffee to New York.” Bucky laughed lightly, eyes crinkling shut as he shook his head at her. The sound warmed her heart and she could already tell this was going to be hard not to fall into. 

His break eventually comes close to an end and he has to rush back to work but leaves a napkin with his phone number behind. She shook her head at the gesture, he knew full well that she and Becca were very close friends and she could have gotten his number from his sister. One point to him for ensuring she had it. 

Becca was off at 3 so Y/N spent her time walking around the book shop, glancing at summaries and running her fingers over the spines. Her mind was far too crowded to pick anything out, focused on how she was going to make it through this renewal of friendship after so much pain. This place usually put her at ease, the sight of the full shelves and atmosphere calming her active mind. But today her mind had won and so she wandered around town until she had nowhere else to go but home. 

A knock sounded on her door an hour or two later and an exhausted Becca made her way inside to fall onto the couch and groan dramatically.

“I take it we’re getting pizza from Toni’s tonight?” This catches the attention of her best friend who suddenly perks right up.

“And wine.” Y/N opens her fridge door and pulls out a bottle, holding it up for Becca to see and receives a nod of approval.

“Pull up netflix and I’ll order the pizza.”

Several glasses of wine and pieces of pizza later the two are sitting on the floor going through a shoebox full of old memories. Memories of their friendship. 

“Oh remember this?” Becca holds up two ticket stubs, one to their high school dance and the other to see a Panic! concert. 

“We showed up in full formal wear, not thinking to pack another outfit to change into.” Y/N dug in the box and produced a photo of the two from that night, Panic! at the Disco tour shirts over their dresses. “I can’t believe we didn’t get caught until your mom saw the shirt in your laundry.”

“Almost the perfect crime. Kind of dumb of us to pay the money for the ticket when we never even went to the dance though.” The two fell into a fit of giggles and struggled to compose themselves. “We were not the best planners apparently.”

“Are you kidding? The College Bar Crawl fiasco?” 

“Oh Jesus, yeah we really should have thought through where we were going to end up staying the night. Next time we do something, we need a fully thought out plan.” 

“Agreed. It’s too dangerous for us to do any less. We might end up in Europe and somehow married.” Becca falls flat on her back as laughter bubbles through her, her head turning and spotting another box under the bed.

“What is this?” She slides the box out and removes the lid before Y/N can stop her, her fingers gingerly sifting through the contents as a smile tugs at her lips. “Oh, you’re a sentimental sap.”

“Gee thanks.” 

Inside were pictures of her, Bucky, and Steve throughout the few years they were all together. She instantly gravitated toward them when she moved to town at 8, sick of being the new girl and ready to settle into a place. They stuck up for her when she was mocked by some older kids, Bucky and Steve became her dearest friends in only a few years. 

There were more photos of her and Steve together, seeing as he was the only one out of the two boys to keep her in his life. Pictures of them at his prom, no girl seemed to see past his physical change and so he invited her. She remembered how her parents felt about that night, so proud of who they thought she was choosing to be with. A boy who was going to college, who had aspirations but remained loyal to his town. One with a kind heart and a gentle soul. She knew what they expected from the night, but they never understood that she and Steve were simply good friends and nothing more.

The photos of her and Bucky begin to dwindle around when she was 13, the year after his father died. Slowly Bucky grew apart from her and Steve, more the former than the latter. Something after her birthday party that year changed everything and she began to lose him piece by piece until he finally enlisted and left altogether. 

She held a photo of the two of them between her fingers, eyes tearing up at the sight of their smiles. It was the day of her party, when she could still make him smile and forget about his troubles even if just for a moment. Bucky had both arms around her torso, his head resting on her shoulder and a bright smile on his face. Her cheek was against his face, hands and arms resting on his forearms with a dopey big smile stretched across her face. 

“I swear I could kill that boy for what he did. I get losing touch while overseas, but cutting you out of his life while still in the same small town? That’s just cruel.” Becca sighed and took the photo from Y/N’s hands, placing everything back in the boxes before sliding both back under. “And to think I used to believe he liked you.”

“That would have made things worse.” 

“C’mon let’s forget about that punk and eat some chocolate.” Y/N leaned into Becca as she was held by her, sighing deeply. “You’ll always have me, and Steve. That boy would rather dive face first out of an airplane than ditch a friend.” 

“Ain’t that the truth.”

After Becca left Y/N spent some time cleaning up after their roller-coaster of a night. Her body was tired but her mind was far too active to rest. Thoughts of what she lost sticking in her brain as she watched out the window as Bucky exited his townhouse and began to walk aimlessly in the night. She almost wanted to join him, not speaking just walking.

Instead she readied herself for bed, lying under the covers and staring out the window at the stars. Her mind traveled to something Bucky once told her about his dad and how if he found the North Star then he would never be alone, because someone else was always looking too. 

And she knew exactly who that was.

~

Tags: @asphalt-cocktail​ @qtmeryr​ @broken-hearted-barnes​ @cantnkrusshedevil​ @gstran18​

#marvel #beautiful #small town lovers au #james buchanan barnes #Bucky Barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #justtryingtowrite #writing challenge

[thesalemsaga]

𝟰 — 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗮𝗹𝗹

—   𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙩𝙝 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙢 𝙨𝙖𝙜𝙖.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 : 6.5k words

𝙨 : the team is officially assembled, but this is far from the end of it, it’s only the beginning. it seems like things were going according to plan, they were even tempted to set off. but a sudden explosion in the training arena ruined everything.

“ you should’ve risked breaking iron thorn than your arm. ”

but it was all worth it in the end.

seren was ecstatic at that moment, that much was obvious from the way her eyes creased and cheeks bloomed with a pink hue almost matching her hair. she was overjoyed, because it had all gone according to plan.

her father’s reaction wasn’t one she was expecting, though. the way he smiled when she told him caught the girl off guard, a girl who was used to seeing a stone cold man mostly nod through trials and tribulations and relied mostly on a poker face rather than smiling or laughing. getting that sort of reaction out of him made the girl feel somewhat proud of herself.

the only issue he disapproved of was her minor sacrifice injured in the midst of the dueling lesson. he heard of her burnt forearms and immediately requested for her to return to her dorm where the nurse would visit her. according to the kind woman, she would heal eventually. but the scars would remain, possibly as a reminder of her foolishness.

“ i know ”, seren countered.

they were sat together for dinner. he had approached her at the end of the school day to ask her about her injuries and she eventually revealed that she had accomplished her goal. at that moment, he proposed they ate together before going to bed. it was awkward, her father was a cold man and he hardly had time for these sorts of things, often hiding out in his office till ungodly hours. sitting across from him at a dinner table was a foreign sight for his daughter.

their meal had been a minor stew served with a few slices of bread, though seren found her appetite to be particularly short that evening. whether it was caused by her injury or the fact that she now had a full functioning team was unknown, but she felt no hunger peering down at her food. what didn’t help was the way her father was peering at her.

“ iron thorn can be replaced. it can be fixed without much of an issue. had you shattered your arms, i wouldn’t have been able to pay to get them fixed ”, he stated, taking a bitter sip of his wine. a shiraz, no less. “ you begged lockhart to keep evangelos out of trouble. ”

the girl hated being reminded of what happened. dwelling on it made her recall the flicker of guilt that breached through his usually cold and bleak face, and it just made her feel worse. she had been foolish with her actions and it might have cost someone their reputation or their sense of self-respect. no good feeling comes from hurting someone unintentionally, and when the expression on his face settled for just a few seconds, seren felt worse.

the girl gulped, “ it’s not his fault, it was mine. he was countering when he knew he was going to get thrown down. it was his final move, and had it been another enemy, it would have been fatal. maybe he thought he was in a real fight, that is what we’ve been trained to do ever since we’ve started in this school. ”

“ you’re seriously making excuses for the boy, seren? ”.

“ y-yes! well, i’m justifying. he didn’t do it intentionally, i know that. had it been intentional, i would have most likely be in the hospital ”, her tone went grave, but she continued speaking her mind. “ it was a duel, that was what lockhart said. he wasn’t playing dirty and he didn’t do it on purpose. evangelos is innocent, it’s most likely my fault for not being fast enough to jump away. or i should have sacrifice iron thorn but . . . ”.

she was attached to the weapon.

in actuality, it was the only relic she had left from her mother. celine armsend had spent years of her life making weapons and by the time she married arthur, she had made a reservoir of blades that would never be used. upon realizing she had married into a noble and traditional family with customs relating to war, celine picked the best blade and gave it to seren. it was the only true gift she received from her mother. after that, it was just post-cards on birthdays and jewelry on christmas.

it was a valuable gift. it had been by seren’s side longer than her mother ever had and it had aided her in many disputes, many duels, and it was likely she was going to bring the rapier with her on the journey when they choose to leave. she couldn’t leave with a broken blade.

arthur held the brim of the glass between his lips and hummed, returning the glass to the dinner table. “ well, the scar will stay. but at least you didn’t fracture anything ”, the girl nodded at his words and presented him a comforting smile, it was clear she wanted to change the subject. “ in other news, congratulations. you have your final five. ”

it was a victory the girl was going to take long to come down from. an accomplishment like this wasn’t easy, and it was unlikely she was going to grasp the opportunity to celebrate it when tides were changing. they needed to make a move soon. 

“ thank you ”, she said. her attention was brought to the shorter locks of hair that had been reaped off. you wouldn’t really be able to tell until you got a better look but it made her feel uncomfortable. it was going to serve as a reminder until it grew back, which might take a while. seren told herself many times not to rake her hand through her hair so much. “ i hope you’ll let us off soon. the sooner we leave, the better. ”

her father nodded, “ of course. but i need to ensure that you’ll make a safe route to salem’s whereabouts. i haven’t spoken to any of the military generals yet, i fear they might refuse even with my influence in the situation. ” the girl gave her father a questioning look. “ what? ”.

“ n-nothing ”, seren replied. and then tilted her head. “ it’s just odd to see you being so willing to help me out of this. don’t get me wrong, it’s mostly because you don’t really let me do stuff. ”

he knew that very well, so seren didn’t think to put it down lightly. he knew that he didn’t keep his promises, he knew that he tended to be rather cold and kept the girl inside on most occasions. what made her curious was whether he ever did it for a reason, and if so, if he ever felt guilty for it.

arthur shrugged softly, “ it’d be wrong to refuse this from you. you’ve finally found your purpose and your willingness to complete it is admirable. you also found some decent people to accompany you and even injured yourself for the sake of it. it would be rude of me to refuse something you worked hard for. ”

a warmth flooded within her suddenly. arthur, a difficult man, had his moments of true love and protection for his daughter. you’d think she would grow to hate him after a number of years of being sheltered and constantly held back from things. she never did. the thought never crossed her mind, to hate her father when he had never done anything to hurt her, only protect her. seren admired the man for handling things so well after all that happened.

when celine decided to take herself out of the armsend family and surround herself with nature and learning, it left arthur alone and looking like a terrible husband. it brought shame upon his family name, and he was always being invigilated, people constantly waiting for him to make a wrong move. and after his older daughter married and the youngest passed away, he was left in shambles trying to recover his reputation as not only a principal, but as a member of society.

and he had done well. he had managed to clean a tarnished name and managed to protect his only heir without the help of his wife or any other armsend relative. now, to answer your question, could seren hate her own father? no.

“ thanks, dad. ”

arthur sighed after finishing his glass of wine, stood and walked over to his daughter. upon pressing a kiss to her forehead, he smiled again that evening. was it due to the beverage he’d been drinking? regardless, it had seren smiling from ear to ear. “ no worries, kiddo ”, he mumbled, spotting the shorter locks of her hair. “ when are you going to dye your hair back to your normal color? ”.

her cheeks burned, “ if i dye it back, the shorter hairs are gonna be more obvious. it’s better with pink for the time being. ”

“ evangelos did this? ”.

“ dad, give it a rest! ”.

it had to have been the fifth time that month where her father has requested this from her. unbeknownst to him, she dyed to save him from immediately heartache. she was a replica of her mother, and if she were to remain with her natural color, she would catch the sadness in arthur’s eyes and wouldn’t be able to handle it.

he shrugged and lifted his hands up in a surrendering manner, “ i’m just worried. you can’t blame me. ” grazing his fingers against the bow on her hair, arthur sighed and patted her shoulders. “ go to bed, kiddo. i’ll have you and the others inside a classroom tomorrow so we can discuss your journey. ”

after that, he sent himself straight to bed. whenever he drank, which was rare, he happened to stumble into a state of sorrow. especially when he spoke about topics relating to his wife and his family. celine armsend was still very much alive, hidden within the wild, hunting and learning and risking her life almost every single day and it seemed unlikely that she would return to the aristocracy she’d been forced into when marrying arthur. she was born and raised in the wild, it was unlikely she would have stayed within the walls for long.

though she was glad to see him head to bed and not up to his office, where he would most likely spend the rest of the night in deep feelings and thoughts and they were rather harmful. arthur managed to be cold, but it didn’t mean he had a weakness. and that was his wife.

the girl spent a few moments at the dining room, offering to help the maid bring everything bad to the kitchen but was instead sent to her room. the maids didn’t like seeing her up late, and she loved to pieces, having never refused the advice they give her.

by the time she got to her bed, it was nearly midnight, an ungodly hour to be up both as a teenager and as a student that used up all of her force in the day. she had to be rested up, yet she found that sleeping did not come as naturally as it did prior to all these changes in her life.

seren was day-dreaming of those grassy plains and shattered pillars and abandoned castles and chapels, she wanted to see the world with her own eyes and return with tales to feed the thousands. story-telling had never been an interest, often finding that she couldn’t raise her voice high enough with sufficient interest to be deemed a good story-teller. which was why she had bought a notebook already, to make notes, to draw. she was tempted on borrowing her father’s camera to take some pictures, yet the worry of being robbed or losing it deemed the idea unfit for their journey.

as she lay in bed, seren couldn’t help but wonder of the journey ahead. yet, she was not prepared for the turbulent obstacle she would have to face beforehand.

time skip . . .

the school fell silent by midnight. the library had closed down, locked by the temperamental librarian. the cafeteria was empty, lounge rooms rid of any light. the only sounds that came were the whistles of the janitors who had just finished their night shift and were briskly preparing to take a yggdrasil line train back down to the city, returning to their normal lives.

seren was fast asleep. never had she looked quite so peaceful despite the day that she had. her braided locks fell against her pearly white pillows and her blanket fell over her figure, though it would be on the ground by the time she woke up. she would not have time to dream and kick her sheets to the floor as she usually does, however. because dead at night, when the city downstairs seemed like it was always going to bed, and the only sound in the background was that of the wind, something disrupted her sleep.

it started as a bang. one which awoke her with a start, sitting up from her previous position, groggy and tired in every sense of the world. she could feel her heart skipping in her chest. she wasn’t expecting such noises late at night, and her father was one to be asleep by now.

when the second bang came, it was louder. it felt like the ceiling and floors shook. and it wasn’t until she peered at her chandelier hanging in the center of her room that she noticed that the room was shaking. trembling, everything began to tremble. the jar of water began to swing until it tipped over the edge of her desk and fell into the carpet.

was the school collapsing? seren gave a startled yelp when a sound she was familiar with erupted. similar to the explosion that came from evangelos’s gauntlets, the shots he fired when he cut through her hair. it wasn’t the exact same sound, but it was still an explosion. an unnecessary one, one which should not have happened.

there was no emergency drill scheduled for that week, not that she knew of.

covering her ears, the girl braced for another explosion but it never came. what came instead was a booming voice treading through the walls of her bedroom, the sound of lockhart’s alarmed tone tannoy through the loudspeaker.

“ attention, a breach in the training arena has been detected. requesting all teachers and staff members to the cafeteria. all students are asked to stay within their dorms and are not to come out. i repeat . . . ”.

seren fought through her blanket and bolted towards the balcony door, throwing it open. her view fortunately had sight of the training arena island that was due west of the main tower. normally the roof of the arena would be closed, but tonight, the girl caught smoke rising through a vacant hole that had been blown through. someone had breached in. intentionally. that didn’t look like a mere accident.

when the girl recalled the conversation she had with her father that friday evening, she felt a chill ride her spine. salem is going to counter and do anything in order to slow down the attempts at finding her, her father’s voice echoed.

“ d-dad! ”.

seren ran back into her room, threw the door open and flooded out into the hallway where she saw some of the maids huddled in a circle in the living room. one of them stood up when a worried daughter came looking for her father, “ w-where’s my dad? is he still in his room? w-w-what’s happening?! ”.

“ there was a breach in the training arena ”, the youngest maid said, at least two years older than seren. “ i-i don’t know a lot but i heard some teachers say there were two men there and they’ve managed to lock them inside the arena. but the security won’t hold up for long. they’re trying to cut through the door. ”

two men? two henchmen, more like.

seren knew she was advised to stay inside her dorm. but she needed to see this for herself and confirm her theory. and as she raced back to her room, she worried about whether salem had found a way to penetrate through the walls of valhalla, whether these two men carried the intention of hurting someone, and if so, how many lives would be claimed tonight if nobody did anything.

and that was why she quickly found her sword tucked under her bed and slipped on some shoes and bolted out of the dorm whilst the maids were elsewhere. she was putting herself in danger. soon enough those two men were going to break through the arena door and they would start claiming lives and if she was lucky enough, she might be able to stop utter catastrophe from occurring or at least reducing some of the possible casualties.

she forced down the hall with slight apprehension, hugging her sleeping robe tightly to her body. she had put on some tight shoes in case she engaged in combat, and it didn’t dawn on her that she was half asleep and was likely going to hurt herself until she reached the end of the hall.

seren was going to turn back around in fear that her father might look out and see her and she did not want to spoil the previous chat they had at dinner. so she took a step back, only to squeal when her back hit someone’s chest.

“ w-woah, you okay? ”.

when she recognized perseus’s fruity tone, her heart race reduced exponentially. of relief. she almost thought that she had ran face first into the enemy and that her life was going to end tonight. she quickly turned around, mindful to not end up swinging her sword and cutting his face. “ perseus ”, she mumbled. “ what are you doing out here? ”.

“ trying to find the others. i’m alone in my dorm and i feel like the school could use some help ”, he sounded very tired, it was clear by how his eyes were falling closed a couple of times. seren set her hand by his arm in case he fell forward. “ y-you heard what they said over the loudspeaker, right? ”.

his tone was grave. nobody had expected something like this to go down. but seren had always told herself that salem would always try to have the upper hand, inciting fear with every chance she could because fear would be what kept people away and what enabled her to distance herself from those who wanted her head on a stake.

“ i did ”, she muttered. her figure hunched slightly, almost deflating. “ these men . . . they most likely have a connection with salem. i knew something like this was bound to happen at some point. ”

for a moment, it was silent. she paid a good glance at perseus and offered him a smile despite how shaken to the core she felt. she had expected to run into trouble on the battlefield, but never did it cross her mind that the threat would reach home, breach through the walls of the school. it perturbed her, made her grow even more impatient and willing to step out beyond the walls and finish it for good. for the sake of everyone.

as she faced perseus, she became aware of a growing anxiety rooted within her out of nowhere. it crept up like ivy, puncturing through every organ in her body in a series of pricks and jabs of fear that could not be explained. and that was when she noticed something. something behind perseus, down the hall, and although it was dark, she saw it gleam.

“ p-percy! ”.

he threw a glance over his shoulder and pushed the girl back and rose a hand. at that moment, a cold beam shot through the palms of his hands, a shard of ice hissing through vapor and spearing through whatever had tried to attack them. upon closer inspection, seren recognized it to be a goblin.

a goblin.

“ we need to find the others, now ”, he claimed, his voice orotund yet also exhausted. magic spells require a lot of mana, which drains energy from your body. seren stood there marveling at the bleeding creature that had seemingly come from nowhere. lockhart did not mention that one of them could summon smaller, more annoying minions. like goblins. there were going to be more, much more.

so they took off running. the halls were dark, only a small hue of light emitted by the lines on the ground that would only light up at night and lead students elsewhere if they needed something. seeing as how nobody really came out at night, seren was perturbed by the darkness, by the silence, it was chilling in the very least.

they didn’t have to wait for too long before they encountered most of those feisty minions. this time, there were about five or six of them huddled on a table at the lounge, hissing and snarling at each other and upon seeing perseus and seren, they pounced.

of course, seren wasted no time before shifting in between spaces, meeting each goblin half-way and tore through their small bodies with the blade of her sword. what she found unpleasant was the putrid odor that erupted, something like a polluted swamp with something seriously rotting in its waters.

their green blood spilled on the carpet in ounces, seren continued to run through the lounge just a few steps behind perseus, throwing a glance over her shoulder and locking the lounge door in case anymore spawned and tried to trail after them. it would be of no use since they could spawn anywhere, but at that moment, seren was doing anything to take precautions.

“ we’re almost by romeo’s door! come on! ”.

if they had their gunner, it would be much easier. if they had their entire team, she would be able to breathe properly. but her nerves were scattered everywhere. her thoughts lingered on the goblins, on her father, on the maids that she had left with no protection unless if they’d locked themselves in. where was her father, where were the others? and last but not least, where were the two men responsible for tonight’s breach?

it didn’t take two pounds on romeo’s door for the boy to slip out, his gun in hand. seren took a moment to marvel at it, it was a vermilion red and she couldn’t help but gaze at the sword handle available at one end. it was unlikely that he would ever have to engage in close combat, but that was a marvelous idea. focus, seren! this is not the time to drool over guns!

“ we’d be much safer if we found the teachers and staff members in the cafeteria ”, romeo stated, bringing them into his room for a moment and seren got an immediately whiff of cup noddles and some sort of soda. “ but if we’re seen, we might get sent to our dorms. ”

perseus frowned, “ who cares? they need all the help they can get. half the staff members are unarmed and the security officers have probably been locked out in another section of the school. if we leave them alone, they . . . ”.

his gaze fell heavily on seren, who pretended not to notice it. she knew where the end of that sentence was heading, what he meant by such a phrase. her father was among that crowd and although he could handle himself, he may not know what he’s dealing with and he cannot face it alone.

just then, the loudspeaker boomed. lockhart came through.

“ attention, students. please ignore previous orders; we implore you arm yourself and prepare for the worst. please move steadily towards the main hall where we will dispatch you down to the railway. if you encounter something bizarre, don’t resist the urge to fight it. you are not alone tonight. ”

romeo rolled his eyes, “ well, here goes nothing. ”

it wasn’t long before students were flooding into the halls with their massive weapons, friends clinging to each other and third years in particular aiding the younger years through the right directions to safety. they hadn’t found the others just yet, seren became worried that they might have encountered some trouble. that was until she saw a towering giant through the crowd. her voice broke, “ kailen! ”.

the archer caught sight of her and jogged over, evangelos and alexander joining him. seeing them all brought her a temporary sense of relief, they were still in danger but as a full group, they might be able to get to safety, well, safely . . .

“ anyone else encounter the goblins? ”.

“ goblins? ”.

“ in the main lounge, we found some just piling onto the table. we figured they were being spawned randomly, something to do with one of the men in the training arena. even if they can’t break out, they will find a way to harm the students. ”

just when evangelos was about to propose an idea, the ground trembled once more and for a moment, it seemed like the world was tilting. the building gave a minor lean before righting himself, and it probably settled on the minds of everyone, on how the world they were managing to make so much damage, how they were making the school shake, and just what they were doing in that training arena.

“ if we can take them down, we might be able to reduce casualties. and who knows, we might be able to understand what they want ”, kailen spoke, nodding towards the hall that would take them up to the training arena quickly if they were willing to job.

alexander shook his head, “ we might just end up making everything worse. we’d be better off heading down like everyone else and avoid any harsh injuries. ”

“ where’s your heroism, alexander? ”, romeo spat. “ we don’t know what’s in there, sure, and we’re most likely never going to find out unless if we get off our asses and seek them out. we could stop them from advancing until reinforcements come in. we could reduce casualties but if we stay here doing nothing, it’s not going to matter! ”.

“ well let’s just go then! ”.

seren managed to bellow out the final word, which brought everyone out of their complex panic and sent them moving towards the training arena, resisting the wave of petrified students who just wanted to get to safety. the girl felt sorry to see the pale faces of first year students, innocent and naive youths who were most likely the targets of tonight.

student casualties would strike the heart of valhalla and shatter the school spirit, possibly putting arthur’s leadership into question and the military’s defenses into skepticism. nobody would be happy regardless but they could resist, they could try to resist it.

soon, the wave of students broke and their steps quickened whilst darting down many halls. one convenient hall gave the view of the training arena from a lower level but she could still see the smoke rising and what seemed to be like lights sparking within the huge, cracked dome.

“ they’re trying to explode their way past the doors! ”, evangelos called.

seren’s semblance kicked in, she pushed past everyone and reached the front of the group. “ kailen, evan, you’re with me. we’ll take the longer way to establish a forward attack plan. the rest of you, you need to go via the elevator and each put up your defenses on those doors. do not let them out, and if they do kick through the doors, keep pushing them into the arena! ”, she instructed, and this time around, nobody seemed willing to counter.

the longer way was through a staircase leading to a top entrance of the arena. the others would be heading into the lower bounds and could take up their positions by exit doors and whichever door they broke through, somebody would be able to push the men back. there were three exit doors, which she thought would be the only stroke of luck they would have tonight.

from what she knew, alexander could break out of his healing capabilities and access security buffs and probably enchant the doors. perseus could wrap a door in ice, and romeo could stun them with grenades if they breached out. they had strong defenses, which meant that her, evan and kailen would most likely come into the offenses.

it was just a matter of luck. a lot of luck, because they were entering through the stands and would have to be beyond quiet, quieter than silence in itself to not raise any alarms. and strike from above.

easier said than done.

“ do we have any information on these guys? ”.

evangelos’s question brought seren out of her thoughts quickly and she darted to respond, “ one has a summoning semblance or some sort of summoning magic. the other man, i have no idea about. they’re hearing laughs from the arena, so i’m assuming there’s a maniac in there. ”

kailen grunted, “ two, if we’re being honest. ”

the last thing they needed to deal with was a mad hatter, and yet she was certain that was exactly what they were going to be dealing with. an insane jester of a henchman with tomfoolery behavior. and as they reached the end of the stairs and bolted down through the entrance hall towards the stands, it became a lot more obvious.

the maniacal laughter could be heard from the other side, followed by the tremors of explosions and summoning spells being chanted. they were brewing up a storm within the training arena and were ready to unleash it through the halls and attack the heart of valhalla before all the students could be evacuated. but seren could not stand the thought of her home being destroyed, of this monolith falling from the sky.

because if it did fall, it would crush the city beneath them.

“ great, how do we get in without making it obvious? ”.

seren held her index finger to her lips, experiencing a sudden stroke of genius. she rose iron thorn’s acicular tip and pressed it against the lock, and with a minor click, the door swung silently open, and they flooded in before the light could see out.

in the arena, sound traveled more than anything. and in this instance, the maniacal laughter that came from the center of the closed dome covered every atom in the space. though seren crouched behind the arena seats, she would peek over and she had caught sight of two, simply put, demonic figures at the center. one throwing what seemed to be explosives in the shape of colored balloons, and another using what seemed to be druid magic.

“ oh, isn’t this fun, annakin? just you and me and these steel doors! ”.

seren was horrified when she got a closer look at the jester. he was tall, six feet in height. well, she couldn’t tell if it was a he or she, it was an it. because there was no way it was human. it didn’t have a head. rather, in place of its heard, there were two masks. two french theater masks, one wore a smile, whilst the other wore a saddening frown. it wore what seemed to be a medieval court jester outfit, simple, with a satchel tied to its waist, where it seemed to have been taking out its balloon grenades.

and beside him, stood something to completely contrast an almost theatrical henchman. a horned demon, seven feet in height, wearing dark robes, wielding a spear which glowed every time it chanted. annakin, as the jester called it, was the one behind the goblins. seren could hear that disgruntling laughter of those inferior forest vermin in the sea of green that annakin brewed and summoned them from, placing them around randomly and it explained how they ended up in the lounge room.

the girl heard evangelos utter something under his breath, and turned to see him crouching in close proximity to her, she gulped slightly when her heart gave a small jump in her chest. “ i could crash the party and give everyone outside an alert to come in ”, he dropped his voice lower than a whisper and she still managed to hear him over the chaos downstairs.

seeing as how he relied a lot on his anger to moderate his more powerful attacks, she didn’t hesitate before nodding at him, it would be very effective if he went in with the surprise attack and if she followed suit, kailen staying up above to strike anything or anyone down.

evangelos moved quickly, pacing down the steps until he reached the edge of the stands. if he moved, he’d drop. and that’s exactly what he did. oh, he lunged, gauntlets fired up, flaring with that same red glow from yesterday, throwing himself over the edge and whistling in the midst of his fall.

seren actually flinched when the impact made the ground, she grasped onto a chair but followed suit, crouching behind the small wall of the stands and peeked over to where kailen stood, bow stretched, arrow ready to strike.

“ sorry to invade your party, boys! just kidding, i’m not! ”.

“ why, you little-- ”.

when seren pushed herself over the edge, the ground quickly met her feet and she shifted, soon finding iron thorn against the jester’s throat, glowing with the faint blue of an ice essence that was ready to freeze everything in her line of sight. and that excluded nearly nothing.

jester turned but made no further attempt at attacking. the frowning mask appeared to fold in more sorrow, and panic erupted through its voice. “ p-please, don’t hurt me! it takes such a long time to sow me back up again, i don’t want to be a burden to lady salem ”, it cried.

seren blinked slightly. that was when she noticed the cloth-like appearance to an almost animated figure, it was far from human and it didn’t seem all too magical. it was probably why it trembled under the weight of iron thorn’s blade. 

what struck her was that this dumb doll had just given everything away. this was salem’s doing.

when the exit doors suddenly exploded, she made a harsher attempt at keeping this jester in place, digging the tip of her rapier deeper against its chest and pushing it towards the center of the arena.

“ would you look at that! a demon and a clown, how . . . anticlimactic as fuck ”.

romeo would have incited a laugh out of seren that time around but her expression remained grim, never once did she rip her gaze away from the monstrosity that now fell to the ground, scrambling as if searching for mercy.

“ if you’re working with salem, you’re going to be really valuable for us ”, evangelos sounded psychotic, but he had a reason to. they had struck horror within the school that night and nobody wanted them out more than the students did. but they would be valuable if kept under surveillance and forced to talk. “ drop your weapons before it gets ugly. ”

it took them a moment to listen. annakin gave a grunt, hesitant to hand his weapon over even though evangelos’s gauntlets were gleaming at this point and alexander seemed ready to bring in a deterioration buff. jester also made no attempt at moving until iron thorn began to glow again, seething with ice.

“ a-annakin, drop it! ”.

he didn’t. which was why perseus suddenly launched his hand forward and a yellow hue engulfed the spear the demon clung so tightly on, and when the boy began pulling as if to shake the spear from his grasp, annakin held on tighter. “ we’re not joking, drop the weapon! ”, romeo cried. 

perseus grunted and pulled harder on an invisible rope, and it seemed like he was almost there until jester suddenly pounced and removed something from his pouch and launched it at perseus when the boy’s defenses were at their weakest point. one of the balloon grenades flew directly towards the boy and only seren saw to it in time to cut through the grenade, and unfortunately, was thrown back by the impact of the explosion rattling against iron thorn. and like a repeat of the dueling lesson, smoke engulfed them.

rather, the jester. alexander cut his hand through the air and a strong current of wind blew through the smoke, brushing it aside quickly but by then, the jester had already vanished. and the spear was back in annakin’s grasp and suddenly he was brewing up something they could not stop.

because when he dug the tip of the spear into the ground, the building shook once more, enough to throw all of the students to the ground like an earthquake found them while they were airborne.

“ they’re getting away! ”.

this time, seren couldn’t stop them even if she tried, battling against the immense vibrations on the ground that made it impossible to stand up, like a giant tap dancing on the floor, the world around them seemed to be shaking with no intention in stopping.

when annakin grabbed jester, they bolted towards one of the exits, and the clown made no attempt in stopping the terrors of tonight when it grasped another balloon grenade and threw it up at the ceiling. the contact was inevitable and whilst the henchmen escaped, the dome began to cave in on them.

seren saw the ceiling breaking into chunks, one descending right on top of her and she closed her eyes, preparing herself to be crushed. and she swore, for a moment, that she heard the collapsing horn of a train outside.

it never came.

all she heard was an explosion directly above her and felt two arms scoop her up, wind against her skin, before she was back down on the floor. upon opening her eyes, she was met with the eyes of a concerned evangelos looming over her, and even through her ringing ears, she could hear him asking her if she was okay.

the girl was unresponsive as she glanced over to see her teammates safe and sound, nobody got crushed. 

the tears came flooding in like a dam bursting.

seren turned her head softly back to evangelos, bottom lip quivering, jaw clenched, soul aching. “ the railway . . . t-the emergency train . . . ”, her voice came out in a weak excuse of a pained whisper.

“ seren? ”.

“ t-they shot the emergency train down . . . ”.

#chapter four #original writing #fantasy #magic #futuristic #dystopian

[thetoffeefox]

110. “Quit stalling. Where’s your father?” Dad Dante with twins.One boy, one girl. C̶a̶n̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶c̶a̶l̶l̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶m̶ ̶C̶a̶y̶d̶e̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶L̶i̶l̶y̶?̶ You know Dante is up to something.

Let me just say first my dear I had a world of fun writing this. So much so that I sort of got carried away with it. There is just something about Dante having twins that makes me giddy! Don’t even get me started on if he has a daughter. I hope you enjoy this because I sure did! 

Prompt 110.” Quit stalling. Where’s your father?” Dante X Reader 

      Normally the sound of birds chirping was what you woke up to, but today you were woken up to a different sound and that was the sound of your children. You could hear both of them outside of the door arguing. Unlike most of the time, their arguments would be loud and…. destructive. Right now though it was more like them debating on if they should even wake you up. “If we wait her breakfast will get cold stupid.” Your daughter Lily states with a hiss. A giggle almost escapes your lips but you swallow it because if you didn’t it would give away that you were awake and although normally you didn’t approve of your children’s bickering you found this argument to be cute. However, you found it odd that it was your children waking you up this time around for your birthday. Which would suggest….Your husband was up to something. “All right, I get it. Don’t have to be a know it all.” Cayde your son states with a grumble. You could no longer hold back your giggle and you let it loose before calling out to your children. “Hmm, I wonder who could be arguing behind my door.”  It feels as if the entire house goes still before a moment later both children pop their head into your bedroom. Once inside your room, you notice for the first time in a while how big your twins have grown. It only seemed just like yesterday you were in the hospital holding both of them for the first time. You and Dante thought you could never love another thing more than you loved each other but the moment your children were born they captured your heart far more than the Devil Hunter ever could and it ranged true for him too.  You two would give up your very lives to keep them out of harm's way. Making their way to you the twins hold out a tray of breakfast for you. “Happy Birthday!” They both exclaim to you. You had to say it impressed you that they hadn’t burned a single thing. There was a nagging fear in the back of your head about how your kitchen looked, but you would worry about that later. Both of them took a seat on opposite sides of the bed much like when they were little. Finishing up your breakfast you make a go to get out of bed only to have to your have your twins stop you and try to encourage you to stay in bed. So that’s how it will be. After some fussing and more deterring you shoo them out of your room to allow yourself some time to get dressed, but not before you take a shower which was at the insistence of Cayde. Little did you know that your whole day would be spent with children. They dragged out you of the house around 10 am only to be dragged around to so many different places most of which didn’t cost anything because despite the years that had gone by your husband was still somewhat soft at heart when it came to those in need of his services. So money was still decently tight. It was one of your favorite things about him, how he could have so much compassion and understanding for others. However, you were quite surprised that he seemed to start charging people the moment you announced to him that you were pregnant with the twins. Of course, he wasn’t charging a certain rate per hour still, but merely charging people for anything that they could give him. He didn’t like that you got a job to help out because he was dead set on caring for you and the children but you wouldn’t do it. The kids were your responsibility financially as well, not to mention you did enjoy working. Around 5 pm you were absolutely exhausted and simply wanted to go home and see your husband but your children seemed to still be stalling for their father. What in gods name did he have planned for you that would take this long? 

“Ok you two that’s enough we are going home.” Your tone was full of authority that you knew they could not contest to.

“Eh, just a bit longer mom! Really, we can uh go home in thirty minutes!” Lily exclaimed animatedly her long snow white hair ruffling with her movements.

“Uh yeah mom just thirty more minutes really!” Cayde grabbed your arm trying to hook it with his to stop you. 

“We are going home now.” You grumble turning on your heel determined to win this stubborn contest. 

Honestly stubbornness was a defining trait for Sparda descendents. Teamwork was something that seemed to be scarce. It was very rare that you saw the twins work together and you had to say their tenacity to keep you distracted to where they pushed their differences aside was impressive. Their father and uncle even had a hard time doing so even to this day. Speaking of one devil you then noticed said uncle making his way over to the three of you. It didn’t take a genius to realize what was going on and about to happen “What did your brother have to do to get you to keep me from going home?” You ask with a raised eyebrow. Vergil sighed before looking at both of your twins who instantly tensed and gave the biggest shit-eating grins that reeked of guilt. Oh...OH. You slapped a hand over your mouth trying your hardest to not burst out laughing realizing that it wasn’t their father who got Vergil to come and help keep you distracted it was your children. You should scold them for pulling Vergil away from his day-to-day tasks that could be important, you should. Though the very thought that your children got their uncle to come into public and away from things high on his list of priorities was just all around too much for you to handle. So you let out the laugh you tried so hard to contain. “I’m sorry Vergil I am, really! Consider it impressive though that they got you to assist.” The thought that he might glare at you crossed your mind, but he still directed his irritation at your teenager's. “Please, uncle Vergil it’s just for a bit, there’s a local orchestra playing in the park we thought both you and mom would enjoy it!” Lily bats her eyelashes up at him and you knew that it was over. Despite Vergil’s cold and aloof exterior your daughter somehow some way had it where he was wrapped around her finger. It was like that ever since she was a toddler. All it took was for her to show an interest in literature and fine arts at a young age. You go to say something but then shut your mouth realizing that Vergil most likely had an hour trip to get here which meant it would be a waste if you didn’t take part in this scheme of theirs. Plain and simple your daughter was devious, dating would be fun here soon when she started showing an interest in boys.  Sighing you nod in defeat as both your children lead the way to the park that the orchestra was playing at. You wonder if maybe your husband would be here but then you reason that it’s unlikely, he wasn’t one for orchestras. Not to mention your children seemed determined to keep you out of the house and away from it. It was nice having them here with you to enjoy the classical music that seemed to ring throughout the park. Well you, Lily, and Vergil enjoyed it. Your son was sprawled out on the grass taking a nap. A laugh left you as you noticed Vergil’s eyebrow twitching most likely thinking the exact thing you were. Cayde was his father made over, and sometimes it was the most frustrating thing in the world. In the end though you had no idea what you would do if you didn’t have the two to remind you that you don’t have to be so strict or uptight all the time. Speaking of uptight it was the time you become a parent again and make them go home with you. Both kids had a look of worry on their face which prompted you to be concerned as well. Your concern grew when Vergil decided to make the joke that his brother probably blew up the kitchen. After some quick goodbyes (apologies from you for your kids roping him in on this fiasco) you were on your way home. Of course, once again your children just wouldn’t let up taking every opportunity to stop for five minutes to look at something in a window or admire a bird or a plant. Once home you sighed in relief because as far you could see the house did not blow up and it wasn’t a disaster. In fact, it was clean. This made you raise an eyebrow, the very thought that your husband made it where you would be out of the house all day so he could clean for you? Well, that was a hell of a present but that begged the question where the hell was he? You start looking around thinking maybe he was in the bedroom waiting for you. It wouldn’t surprise you that was for sure. He wasn’t there and that makes you hum more. Once downstairs you see Cayde and Lily at the bottom of the steps looking suspicious.

“Ok you two, where the hell is your father.” You cross your arms over your chest.

“Mama you should probably change into something else after all you’ve been in those clothes all day. Maybe something a wee bit dressy?” Lily states ignoring your question.

“Yeah, mom it is your birthday it calls for the occasion to dress up.” Cayde grins once again for the millionth time today working together with his sister.

“Quit stalling, where’s your father?” A harsh gaze comes from you onto them and you swear you see your son shiver.

“Go get dressed up and we will tell youuuu,” Lily says in a sing-song manner. 

With an aspirated sigh you make your way back up the steps. Again! Into your room. Again! To dig through your closest to find something to wear. You suspect what was going on, but you weren’t sure. So you opted for something elegant but simple looking. Once downstairs you could see that the demeanor in your children had changed this time they were relaxed, and you then noticed just how tired they were from running around with you all day and keeping you out of the house. You must scold their father for that. They were still kids, but it was entertaining to see them wore out for a change. Maybe they will go to bed early and be able to get up in a decent mood for school tomorrow. Smiling both of them grabbed your hands pulling you into the kitchen to the back door. (Thank god the kitchen wasn’t destroyed, and it was cleaner than it has been in a while) “Well, this is where we take our leave, enjoy your night mama.” Lily give you a kiss on the cheek and Cayde does too before they disappear upstairs. Chuckling you shake your head and go outside a gasp falls from your lips. Your backyard was nothing to ride home about. It was small, the ground was uneven and there were patches where grass wouldn’t grow but tonight it looked beautiful as your eyes went to an all too familiar old blanket laid out on the ground with a picnic basket and an old radio that probably hadn’t seen the sun in ages. That wasn’t what enthralled you though, no what had your undivided attention was the man who was sitting on the blanket in the old red leather coat he always used to wear when two first started dating. Years were kind to him with aging but being part demon might have played into that too. “Dante... All this for me, huh?” A grin slowly spread on your features and it went from ear to ear. Your heart pounding in your chest as you knew exactly what he was re-creating. “Well, babe who else would it be for?” Dante flashes you his signature smirk, the one that makes your limbs turn to jelly. It’s like you are in your mid-thirties again as you make your way over to the blanket sitting down next to him. His lips find yours and you can’t help but giggle and kiss him back. His nostalgic smell hits you, the combination of gun powder, tobacco, and whiskey clouding your mind as you huddle into him. “You guys went all out this time.” Chuckling he pulls out two mason jars and you can’t help but laugh out loud. He was matching your first date to T. It felt like it was so long ago, he had taken you out on Cavalier to a secluded and open field, the sky was clear much like tonight and you two had star gazed, ate pizza, and drank whiskey for god knows how long. It was the most interesting first date you had ever had and many more followed. Dante looks at you his gaze burning bright, it was full of love and passion. “Happy Birthday [Y/n]” Again you grin ear to ear before pulling him into a deep kiss. It was decided that this was the best birthday out any and all birthdays.

#Drabble challenge #Devil May Cry #post devil may cry 5 #Dante #dante x reader #fluff #ALL THE FLUFF #dante having twins is what i live for #also lets talk about dante doing domestic things? #God I loved writing this it was the best #I hope you enjoy it!

[ollyarchive]

My son the global pop star? Olly Alexander's mum Vicki Thornton talks about growing up gay in Gloucestershire, Gogglebox and Glastonbury

Olly Alexander's mum speaks candidly about being mother of the flamboyant Years and Years frontman

Watching Vicki Thornton on the Celebrity Gogglebox sofa it would be easy to imagine that having a famous child is an easy passport to the good life.

Every Friday night for weeks the Forest of Dean mum-of-two has been on TV  sipping Prosecco while commenting on TV programmes with son Olly Alexander, the flamboyant frontman with the chart-topping band Years & Years.

On the face of it it’s been a charmed motherhood. First she watched the talented young man leave college to succeed as an actor, treading the boards as Peter Pan in a play with Judi Dench and appearing in movies such as Gulliver’s Travels, The Riot Club and Great Expectations.

Within a few years he appeared to seamlessly achieve global musical success with a chart-topping band and which led to a much applauded appearance on the Pyramid stage at Glastonbury Festival 2019. This weekend he is appearing on the same stage as Ariana Grande at Manchester Pride.

Yet anybody who follows Olly knows it’s not all been red carpet premieres,  backstage passes and Gogglebox for Vicky, it’s also been about hearing uncomfortable truths about a son who has used his growing success as a platform to publicly campaign for LGBT rights.

Growing Up Gay

Not only has she had to listen to how he secretly self-harmed and developed bulimia as a closet gay teenager growing up in the Forest of Dean, but in 2017 she also bravely agreed to appear in an an emotional BBC Three documentary about how it can lead to mental health issues.

In Growing Up Gay Olly admitted that just driving home back to sleepy Coleford with the film crew stirred up such painful memories that it made him feel physically sick.

If that wasn’t difficult enough to hear, Vicki learned that Olly, who attended St  John’s Cof E Primary School in Coleford and Monmouth Comprehensive, had been unable to tell anyone that he was being bullied from a young age because he had long hair and seemed gay.

“When he asked if I would do the documentary, it was a bit of a decision to make because I knew it would mean digging up the past and going further into the reasons for the problem,”  said community artist Vicki.

“ I knew that having to face up to issues  I was not aware of at the time was going to be a very difficult process, but if it was going to help Olly and other people in similar situations I had to do it.

“I had to be  open and honest about everything which meant confronting my own feelings of guilt. You have to openly accept that you may have made some bad choices and decisions but you are human. It’s not about making excuses, it’s about learning from your mistakes.”

The documentary was so painful that the producers had Vicki assessed psychologically to make sure she could deal with the deeply personal issues it raised and arranged for her to have counselling beforehand.

Still a much watched video on iPlayer, it shows them sifting through photographs and videos of what his mum thought was a happy, innocent childhood on a beautiful part of the world.

“Going through the family history you see all these little happy, innocent little faces” said Vicky who also has an older son who has aspergers syndrome. “It’s terrible to think somebody could be hurting them.

“I think the bullying was mostly mental but when someone is full of joy and happiness and somebody else comes along and closes that down, it is the saddest thing.

“As parents you think you know what’s going on, you think that they are safe, they are happy, they are fed, all the boxes are ticked. But you don’t know the half of it.

“The  little things I heard about what happened to Olly that he and his brother have talked about, are awful.”

Everyone thinks their child is amazing but I knew Olly was special

Community artist Vicki said she knew “in her bones” even before Olly, 29, was born that he would go on do great things.

“Every mother thinks that, and every child is amazing, but I knew that this child was different, there was something there,” she said.

“Olly was always a bright, funny, happy child, full of life. He was such a bouncy, lovely little cherub  that I could never get cross with him,  ever.

“On the rare occasion that he would throw a tantrum I would find it funny and just laugh at him. He would just stand and scream blue murder and it was just hilarious.”

Life in the Forest of Dean

Their early days were spent living near theme parks that his father promoted but in 1997 the family moved to the Forest of Dean where his parents set about creating a model village tourist attraction.

It was a musical, creative, left leaning household and although he loves Rihanna, and famously met the singer on the Graham Norton show,  Olly, credits much of his influences to listening to his mother’s tapes of Nina Simone, Joni Mitchell and Stevie Wonder. She was one of the founders of the local music festival where Olly cut his teeth.

“I used to be a puppeteer actor in an education travelling theatre company in the late 1980s," said Vicky when asked about her bohemian background.

“When I was younger I was also a backing singer in a band called Innamanna. We played the Marquee in London and did some recording but when we had to decide ‘do we stick with this or carry on with our careers?’ it folded.

"But I couldn’t stand on a stage in front of thousands of people like Olly does. I would die.”

Olly as a boy

It was clear that Olly had inherited her artistic streak and although a talented gymnast and able academic, he concentrated on music and drama, later saying it was because he felt at home with the weird kids.

Vicki remembers him being very driven, open minded and very focussed.

“Olly taught himself to play the piano and to sing and there was always a healthy competition with his best friend Joe to get the best parts in the school plays,” recalled Vicki

“He was always singing all over the house.  He loved Disney and he would get old song books full of the classics and teach himself on the piano.

“He did not want to be in musicals but loved the singing and performance side of it.”

I did not realise there was so much pain going on inside.

In the documentary the talented singer songwriter says that  he did not have the vocabulary to put how he was feeling into words and  felt too ashamed to admit it anybody he was gay. Even his mother. He desperately wanted to be straight so he never admitted it.

“On the surface he was a real high achiever so I  had no idea there was so much starting to bubble up as a young teenager,” said Vicki.

“I thought the sky was the limit for him. I thought he could do anything he could put his mind to but I did not realise there was so much pain going on inside.”

“Because he was always fun happy, smiley,  lovely child achieving lots of things at school, I thought things were fine.

“Probably my eye was  off the ball because I was going through a lot of life changes at the time and maybe I was in denial that there was something going wrong.”

Marriage split

In an interview last year with the former Labour spin doctor Alastair Campbell, Olly says his diaries show a clear link between his father leaving and creating a “family implosion” and his mental health health issues developing around he age of 13.

They are estranged but met up when his father contacted Olly through Twitter and in subsequent interviews it’s clear the singer was less than impressed with the reality as opposed to the imagined version of an aspiring musician father who he had always wanted to impress.

“Splitting up with their dad made life a lot harder, definitely financially, and so life was a big struggle,” said Vicki.

“That’s probably part of the reason why I had my eye off the ball. I was distracted doing other things, so we were a bit dysfunctional or a while, which I feel guilty about.

“But I don’t feel guilty about that relationship ending at all, both for the boys and myself.”

Coming out

She says although from the outside it looked like Olly was enjoying a glittering lifestyle after leaving sixth form college to travel abroad filming the movie Summerhill, he was often penniless and had to take jobs such as selling hot dogs on the South Bank in between the contracts. She wasn’t in a position to help pay the rent either.

He was 18 or 19 and involved in the gay party scene in London when he plucked up the courage to pick up the phone and tell her outright that he was gay.

Vicki said: “He had said to me once ‘I don’t think you are going to have any grandchildren’. Not taking the hint, I said ‘well never say never’.

“He obviously got to the point where he thought ‘I’d better actually say it to mum because she doesn’t get it’.

“He phoned me up and said ‘you do know I am gay don’t you?’ . I said ‘Are you? OK’ and that was it really. I suppose I had a feeling he might be but maybe I didn’t want to confirm that because of fear about what his life might become because of all the homophobia out there.”

Vicky told told her elderly mother,  who sang on Broadway with the D’ Oyly opera company before cutting her career short to get married and have a family.

“Her immediate reaction was ‘but he will not be able to go to Africa, it’s illegal in Africa’, laughed Vicky about her 89-year-old mother who follows her grandson avidly on social media and has even seen Years & Years in concert.

“Like me, she doesn’t want to see him marginalised because marginalised sections of society can  attract a lot of negative behaviour. Nobody wants to see their nearest and dearest suffer from that.”

I just hope kids today aren’t going through the same thing

From that moment on Vicky has worried about her son being the victim of homophobia and although she is intensely proud, she still fears that being a figurehead for equality could make him a target.

“I wish he felt he could have talked  to me and maybe I could have prevented all of that, but I understand that is very difficult for young people,” she said.

“I remember that feeling of not being able to talk to my parents  and I just hope kids today aren’t going through the same thing. They get more support at school than they did 15 years ago but bullying and social media trolling still happens.

“I do worry about him being exposed to bigotry and homophobia. it’s not nice to think about your child living in fear.”

In an interview last year Olly was asked if he ever wanted to confront the bullies who made his life miserable growing up but he said he doesn’t think about it much any more because his life had changed so much.

He said he still takes anti-depressants, has weekly therapy sessions and works out a lot to keep his mental and physical health on track.

While campaigning for more to be done to prevent male suicide after being named as GQ Man of the Year,  he admitted he still has occasional days when he doesn’t want to get out of bed because his life does not feel worth living and can be too frightened to go on stage, or cries when he comes off. He hides behind outlandish costumes and make up.

The fun side of having a famous son

It's clear that there is a close bond between mother and son and Olly likes her to share in his successes.

For instance in the early days the pop star  arranged for her to wear an expensive diamond necklace to the red carpet premiere of Great Expectations in which he played Herbert Pocket.

“It was insane,” said Vicki. “ We had taxi from where he lived to the red carpet and there was all these people at the barriers.

“I thought they are going to be so disappointed when I get out because I’m no-one. Somebody took me to one side while Olly went off to meet the paparazzi and because it was raining they put a brolly over my head.

“Then we went in and watched the film which was mind-blowing because I was sat next to some of the actor’s. When it was finished we went to the after-party which was all very very glam.”

Naturally shy, Vicky was overawed to meet the likes of Jeremy Irvine, who starred in War Horse.

“I was quite overwhelmed by it all at first but I have got more relaxed about being in that kind of environment,” she said.

“The whole thing is a bit surreal really. It’s a bit  like a film in itself. Once I was this close to Helen Bonham Carter who I think is fantastic, but you don’t want to go up to people saying ‘I love you’.

“Olly told me once, that when they started filming he actually said to her ‘I love you Helen Bonham Carter’ and and she said ‘I would love you too if I knew who you were’, but she later came to the stage door to congratulate him after Alice and Peter.”

More recently Vicky was overwhelmed when she was introduced the men from one of her favourite TV programmes, the Netflix series Queer Eye, at Radio One’s Big Weekend in Swansea.

“I love watching them but when Olly introduced me I didn’t know what to say and was stuck for words because I get so tongue tied,” she admitted.

Gogglebox

The star is protective of Vickyi who does not even like speaking on the stage at Coleford Music Festival but told her it was time for her to come out of her shell for Gogglebox.

“It’s different because there isn’t anybody else in the room and it’s all about Olly because that’s who they are interested in,” she said of the TV show.

“It feels really nice sitting there together eating snacks, drinking Prosecco and enjoying each other’s company, but I don’t think I have anything really  interesting to say.

“You are thinking ‘should I be on my best behaviour because I’m on tele or should I be like I am at home?’. There is a little conflict going on in your head but it’s really good fun.

“It’s weird watching yourself back,  seeing what you do, what you sound like and the faces you pull. I didn’t realise I pulled so many weird faces.”

Every week she has to decide on a comfortable top for sitting on the  sofa and says they did initially consider getting matching onesies and really mad slippers but decided against it.

She shares TV tastes with her son who loves programmes such as Killing Eve and Stranger Things and Fleabag. They also love Gogglebox, especially Rylan Clark Neal and his mother and Chris Eubank and his son. She was delighted when Rylan sent a lovely message to Olly about her.

“If Olly likes something I will give it a go because I know I will probably like it,” she says. “I would never have watched Love Island if Olly hadn’t watched it. “

Staying true to yourself

Before the Years and Years single Communion catapulted the band into into the charts, Vicky had another important phone call from the Shine singer.

“He said they didn’t want him to say he was gay and he was really cross about it because didn’t want to pretend to be something he wasn’t” she said.

“I told him to stick to his guns, that you have to be true to yourself for anything to be real. I have taught them that if they are kind, truthful and respectful to other people, everything else will follow.”

Olly took her advice and when she first went to Glastonbury to see him burst onto the John Peel stage in 2015 wearing a rainbow, Pride suit he was involved in a very public relationship with Neil Milan from Clean Bandit who were playing the Pyramid stage.

Although in  pop star mode he is happy to speak openly about his own sexuality and  ongoing struggles with anxiety, Olly also admits that the fairytale of fame and fortune has not proved the antidote to depression and he remains a leading advocate for mental health issues.

In fact Gay Times described him as one of the most influential gay pop stars of this generation and added: "All hail the King!”

Glastonbury 2019

Vicky was astounded by how big it has become since the days she used to go and got lost for hours on the first night after deciding to camp for the weekend.

On Sunday Olly arranged for Vicky, her partner Kev and Coleford Mayor Nick Penny to go backstage and then watch from the Pyramid Stage balcony as he gave a widely-applauded, eloquent moving speech marking the 50th anniversary of the Stonewall riots.

Many say the speech appealing for compassion and a society that does not leave anybody behind was the highlight of the festival.

“It’s not the best view because you cannot see what’s happening from the front, but just to be there looking  out from the stage and seeing all those thousands and thousands of people who are all there to see Years and Years and Olly, well it was just mesmerising,” she said.

“That whole feeling of emotion, the pride, It’s like when you see your child in a nativity play but  a million times over.

“I knew he was going to make a speech and I knew that knowing Olly it was going to be special, but I did not  did not know the content or when he was going to say it.

“I was just so proud and when I got home I had to watch it over and over again.”

“I cannot believe how brave and strong Olly is about what he believes in. I admire that in him so much and have so much respect for him to be able to do that.”

The feeling is mutual and Olly has repeatedly spoken about how proud he was of his mum to speak so openly about his childhood in the documentary even though she is not to blame for his troubles.

Olly takes care of his family

Although he spends long periods touring with the band, when he is in London Olly has a small set of friends from home who he has known since primary school which Vickis believes it is good for his sanity.

He recently spoke about how good it has been going from being too skint to go out to be able to help his family out financially and pay for the drinks on a night out.

Thanks to Olly buying her a new house Vicky has moved from the small cottage in the centre of Coleford where she would get the odd knock on the door from Years and Years fans pretending to be looking for a non existent neighbour.

Speaking to her it’s clear that have a famous child is not too much different than having any other. You always feel guilty, you are very proud of their achievements, you want them to happy, you worry about them being safe and you lose your name. At one festival she spotted a flag saying “Olly’s Mum”, something parents all over the world can identify with.

“As a parent I think you always feel guilty, but  I’m proud that Olly has grown into this amazing human being,” says Vicki who has been on a journey alongside her famous son.

“It’s such an amazing thing to have happened that to try and get your head around it all is impossible, so you don’t bother.

“Lots of people ask about him and say things like  – ‘your boy’s doing well’ and I think ‘just a bit’. On the whole though, life just carries on as normal.”

#ollyalexander #years & years #yearsandyears #2019 #palo santo #photo #vicki #olly'smum #olly's mum #mum #articles #interviews

[englass]

In The Water You Sink

Pairing(s): Parental Joseph Seed & Child OC

Warning(s): Implied kidnapping, possessive behaviour, potentially misinterpretating visions from God.

Word Count: 3,892

A/N(s): I’ve spent far too long on this, and I’m not completely happy with it, but I’m done. Any likes/reblogs and feedback are more than appreciated.

- - -

Lily stands at the bank of the Silver Lake, eyes scouring over the many stones that have been washed ashore and now lay abandoned at her feet.

The wind brushes by her, a casual passing, as she kneels down to feel and collect as many smooth stones as she can find. A number of them find a haven in the central pocket of the large jumper she wears, an unexpected offering from one of the members from Eden’s Gate, while the others are gently tossed back to where she found them. Only one stone stays in her hand at a time.

The young girl looks out over the vast lake, watching as distant clouds bleed a perpetual grey across the land and water, dulling the vibrancy of the world she thought she knew. Her fingers brush back and forth over the stone in her hand, a repetitive motion that eases her as she focuses on the subtle groves in its otherwise clean surface.

Her feet shift with uncertainty, sliding into a sideways stance that feels slightly awkward, as she remembers all the times that her and her dad would skip stones together when he wasn’t swamped with work or overtime. It was a moment for just the two of them, a quiet pastime where they could talk and share in muted confidence. A moment for a lone father to escape the complexities of everyday life, and the battles that came with it, with his only child.

Often their time by the lake was filled with questions, curious and searching, as Lily looked for the answers to things that she either did not know nor understand; whether that be what a certain word meant or even how a particular system worked. She only ever trusted her dad, her one constant, to give them to her. And every time Adrian would answer her as best as he could, teaching and guiding, beaming proudly down at his inquisitive daughter.

It wasn’t always so picturesque though.

Sometimes they would simply stand in silence, lost in thoughts they weren’t quite willing to share, as time dragged on by around them. Other times tones shifted and voices raised. And then, on a few rare occasions, Adrian would hold his daughter close. Cradle her when thoughts or talk strayed too close to open nerves, when an old and still raw heartbreak was rubbed with salt, and the world got too unfair.

Lily never dared to question what made her dad cry.

It was so odd not to have him here beside her, watching over her like he always has and promised he always would. It didn’t feel right doing this without him. This was their activity, not hers alone. But, even so...

Looking down at the stone in her hand Lily chews on her lip, a wave of guilt making her hesitant, before she looks back up at the shaded stillness of the lake before her. With a deep breath she re-adjusts her hold over the stone, loosely rolling her wrist and drawing her arm back. On the exhale, she snaps them toward the lake.

The force she puts into the action makes her wobble just a tad, her footing unsteady on the soft ground as she watches the stone skip about four paces before it disappears below the waters murky surface. There’s a beat of silence. Her posture slumps with the weight of a disappointed sigh.

Lily pulls another stone from the small collection in her pocket, and with it she falls into a quiet routine. The water ripples at the disturbance, flinching at the rhythm that is soon set by the young girl as she continues pensively. Losing herself in the action as she settles into a revived pattern.

It is only as she gets down to her last several stones, after scavenging for a few more only seconds prior, that she is pulled from her mindless motions by the rhythmic crunch of fallen leaves. She turns with a blink, eyes wide as she watches with a nudging trepidation as Joseph walks towards her, his eyes kind and his smile gentle; paternal.

It doesn’t quite sit right with her.

Lily isn’t too sure what it is about the preacher, she can’t quite find the words for it, but there is something about him that puts her on edge; a feeling she can’t quite grasp. It has her shrinking in on herself, makes her feel so much smaller than she actually is, but she doesn’t understand why.

A part of her says that she is just being silly. That the feeling is only to do with the situation that she has been forced into with him and his family, and nothing more. But there is more to it. She knows there is. She just doesn’t know what, and that unsettles her. He unsettles her.

She’s heard rumours about them, some from what her dad had heard from his new colleagues at the County Sheriff’s Department, but most from the local residents. None of them spoke well of Joseph Seed and his family, his ‘Project at Eden’s Gate’. Many called them a cult, accused them of kidnapping, forced possession, and so many other things that Lily’s dad had either told her to ignore or to never repeat again. It’s just small town gossip, he would argue.

And yet, every time she rode into town on her bike, she would hear the same things, the same stories from the same people that would tell her to stay as well and truly clear from the group as she and her dad possibly could. That they were trouble, scoundrels and con-artists; that they weren’t to be trusted or involved with.

She can kind of see why now with how things have turned out.

Joseph stops beside her, far enough that she won’t accidentally hit him, but still close enough to be able to reach out to her if he so wanted to.

Along with a few members of his family, his ‘flock’ included, Lily’s noticed that the preacher seems to have little to no regard for personal space. She isn’t sure if he does it as a way to assure others that he cares, or if he does it because he just likes being close to people, but whatever the reason is it’s something that Lily finds a tad strange and uncomfortable; if not excessive.

Thankfully both his brothers are nowhere near as bad. Although the way John looks at her, with a strange intensity that isn’t too dissimilar from Joseph’s own stare, does leave her feeling rather exposed. A couple of times she’s caught him hovering, looking like the kid that wants to pet the puppy, but doesn’t know if he is allowed to or not; and other times she’s caught him looking at her as if her mere existence was offending towards him. It’s unnerving, but, then again, what about this family wasn’t.

Jacob on the other hand, a mountain of a man that Lily still doesn’t really know what to make of, is the only one that seems to offer her even the smallest of space. Giving her at least a semblance of respect in the distance he keeps between them, both literally and verbally, but also in the lack of it (close enough to protect, but not close enough to care). Admittedly, Lily doesn’t really get it, but she does quietly appreciate the distance he offers her all the same. He isn’t there trying to coddle her or act like something he isn’t, after all.

Unlike his brother.

The young girl chews anxiously on the inside of her lip at the trained, but impossibly soft look that Joseph gives her. Gentle and reassuring in a way that a parent should be, but that he isn’t.

When she was first brought here the much older man had made a point of informing her of her parents abandonment. How they had failed in their God given duty to protect and care for her by leaving her all alone as they had. That she was nothing more than a poor little lamb that had been left to the mercy of opportunistic wolves.

(Lily wasn’t sure that it was the right word, but that had sounded pretty close to what her dad had once described to her as being called ‘irony’.)

But she didn’t need to be scared any more, Joseph had promised with a reassuring squeeze of her hand. He had saved her. He, along with the aid of his siblings, would fill the paternal role that had now been made vacant. They would help her young and still impressionable soul to see the truth that both they, and the people of Eden’s Gate, saw. It didn’t matter to them that she was certain – that she had faith – that her dad was out there looking for her. That he would never abandon nor ever give up looking for her, that they were wrong about him.

But he wasn’t there then, just like he isn’t here now; and, particularly to Joseph, that spoke a thousand words.

The preacher tilts his head, expression fond and – if she truly trusted him – genuine as he regards her.

The look isn’t too dissimilar from how her own dad looks at her, and in a way it makes Lily worry over just how quickly, and almost eagerly, the older man was in taking over the role. It almost feels as if he’s actually adopted her, just without the paperwork or her even knowing about it, and if he and John didn’t preach so much about sin then she would say that he was actually proud of that.

“Are you alright, my child?” He asks, with the slightest edge of concern. “You’ve been out here for quite a while. You should come back inside.”

The young girl shrugs lamely, glancing out over the empty lake as she lightly shivers under the early touch of the coming autumn. The preacher’s prompt is certainly a tempting one, considering the changing weather, but with the unspoken order hanging heavily within his words Lily timidly decides to ignore it. Instead choosing to reply to his question with a lie-turned-omission from the tip of her tongue.

“I’m fine,” she says quietly. With a flick of her wrist another stone goes skipping across the water, the sound of its merrily quick travel echoing all around them.

It stretches far longer than it should.

“You know, there’s no need to lie to me,” Joseph says steadily, reply dipped in a thinly layered disappointment. “I can tell something is bothering you. You needn’t suffer in silence. You can always talk to me, I would never turn you away.”

Being so openly called out has Lily fidgeting nervously, the earnestness of his tone catching her off guard. The remaining stones clacking together softly as she grips and rolls them within her pocket; a small comfort.

Looking down at the muddied ground Lily goes quiet, curling in on herself as the familiar tendrils of guilt start to take a hold of her. Her young and easily guilt-ridden soul making her feel bad for, what a part of her feels is, an unjustified silence; a petty rebellion. He is only trying to be nice to her after all, trying to offer her the familial comfort that she so sorely missed. She shouldn’t be so difficult. Yet, so much like her dad, she’s stubborn, quietly firm in what she believes and thinks is right.

So, despite how harshly her guilt gnaws at her, she continues to hold her silence, and within that silence, still and stark, Lily mourns for both her absent dad as well as her now lost moment of peace. Her one chance to get away from their oppressive watch and have a fleeting taste of what once was, of a normality now ripped away from her, now gone.

Even if she wasn’t completely free from them in the first place.

Joseph, unaware of the young girl’s inner distress, is undeterred, holding back a sigh at her sudden reclusiveness as he persists.

“I know this must be hard for you, that it’s all rather sudden and unexpected, but there is no need for you to hide from us. No need for you to hide from me. God has already decided your place amongst our family. I only wish you could see that as clearly as I do.”

Originally, Joseph had been filled with disbelief when he had first heard the Voice whisper about him having a daughter; the wounds still raw and tender after his last great act of faith. Surely the Voice had been mistaken in such a thing. He didn’t have a daughter. At least, at that point, not anymore.

He thought God to be playing a cruel joke on him, that maybe the Devil himself had played him like a cursed fiddle. The faith he had killed for wavered with the tides of doubt, harsh and crushing against the shores of his belief. Yet, by the grace and mercy of God himself, He had seen fit to show Joseph His plan. To educate and assure him that his sacrifices were not to be in vain, that he would be rewarded; and in fact, would be compensated.

She was to be the divine water that tempered Hell’s fire. She would be the rain that nourished the charred earth that Hell itself would walk upon. She was to be his greatest test, his legacy, his most precious reward – a daughter, a second chance – after all the sacrifices that he would have to make in the name of his Lord.

She was to play a part in what Joseph always wanted, but never got to have.

Just as God had promised him.

And he would not let that go. He would not waste this second chance. Not when they were a gift from God himself.

“Please, child,” worry seeps into his tone, her continued rejection a wound he cannot ease. “I only want to help you, to be there for you as a father should. You don’t see it yet, I understand that, but that is why I’m here. To lead you, to guide you down the path that God has intended for you. And as your father I-“

“You are not my dad.” Lily winces at her gritted snap, throat tight with emotion.

Out of the corner of her eye she sees Joseph shift, expression turning tight. Although it’s hard to say with what, considering how guarded he can be; restrained.

He can be open, even raw at times from what she’s seen and heard, but for some reason Lily gets the impression that the preacher hides and knows a lot more than he ever lets on. About what she doesn’t know, and considering she has her own secret that she is trying to keep hidden she thinks it’s better if she just doesn’t pry.

As much as she loves her dad she’d rather not breathe a word about him to them. Especially if the rumours she’s overheard from the guards about a rogue Deputy, tearing up the county and fighting back alongside a resistance group, are true.

She can never quite hide her grin, the torrential bloom of hope, when she hears those rumours.

Closing his eyes Joseph sighs heavily.

He knew this was likely a part of God’s plan, a test for him to overcome like so many before it, but that didn’t mean that the girl’s mention of her real father didn’t irk him so on occasion.

He isn’t as bothered as John, or even as unbothered as Jacob is, over the mystery man’s identity, but it did often feel like she was using them as an excuse, rebuffing Joseph’s attempts at building a relationship by reminding him that the title was already taken. That it didn’t, and would never, belong to him.

She would see though. God would make sure of that, His plan already in motion. The virtue of Joseph’s patience would, without a doubt, be rewarded. He was promised. He just has to have faith.

“I understand what you’re going through,” Joseph starts, schooling his expression into a sympathy that the young girl questions the sincerity of. “It is never easy to lose those closest to us, to let them go when they are no longer there, or when they no longer want us... but you have us now. You have me, and as your father I promise that I will provide all that I can for you. Just as God intends.”

Before she can even think to take a step away Joseph is already in front of her, blocking her view of the lake, and placing his hands firmly upon her shoulders, grounding her there. Lily’s breath catches, an icy fear prickling over her beating heart as she shrinks under his intense gaze, terrified.

Joseph does nothing to reprimand the young girl for her lack of reply, or the way she flinches under his touch, simply watching her and the tears that fill her eyes. Empathetically, he smiles at her. Drawing her in closer until she’s wrapped securely within his arms, held tight to his chest as he smooths her hair back with a gentle touch, a quiet coo.

He knows it’s wrong to hurt her like this, to push the truth of her parents abandonment onto her as insistently as he has been, but even The Father isn’t immune to the sins of impatience.

She’s a stubborn child, a harbinger of a pride that’ll need to be tempered as she gets older no doubt, but the sure-fired belief she has in her real father is begrudgingly admirable all the same. It demonstrates the capacity of her faith, how fiercely she could defend it, and Joseph is certain that with enough time and the right encouragement she will walk the path that God has planned for her.

She could even take Faith’s place eventually.

Besides, her parents cannot be there for her like Joseph and his family can, cannot offer her the guidance that the Word and his flock can. Her father – whoever they were or may be – does not fit into God’s plan. And if they are, by some miracle, still alive and out there then Joseph would be most inclined to oversee their indoctrination personally.

And if they so happen to fail in reaching their atonement then... well, that would merely be God’s divine will at work.

Glancing up at the religious man, feeling the tightening tension in her jaw and the telltale sting of building tears, Lily can’t help but think over his words; the blatant confirmation that he was looking to take over her dad’s place leaving her feeling ill. She doesn’t understand why he’s so obsessed with this, so determined to occupy a space that will never belong to him. What he’s even aiming to gain out of such a thing is beyond her. He can’t just erase her dad from her life and memories, that’s her dad. That’s her dad.

Hopelessly, Lily tries to battle the scratching want she has for her dad, for the man who raised her, who taught her so much of what she knows. Who comforted her whenever she tripped or hurt herself, who celebrated with her whenever she did well in school or in general; who respected her enough to be honest about the state of his and her mother’s relationship, to give her the choice to walk away from him no matter how much it hurt him.

She just wanted her dad to hold her, to tell her that everything was going be okay, that she was safe and that he wasn't going to let anything bad happen to her. That he was never going to leave and that he would always be there to shield and protect her, just like he always promised he would. Just like he always did when the nightmares came around.

But he’s not here.

Instead she’s trapped in the arms of a man that she doesn’t know or trust. That wants to push her dad out so he can take his place within. And although he’ll never be her dad, nor even her father, Lily can’t find it in herself to turn down this small piece of comfort that he’s offering her; starving for the familial affection and love that a parental figure can give her. That her dad can’t give her.

Even if it is made out of lies and delusions.

With a stuttered sigh and poorly suppressed tears Lily buries her head into Joseph’s abdomen, her hands raising shakily to fist at the crisp white of his Sunday best. Joseph takes it all in stride, a light smile pulling at his lips as his hold tightens the slightest amount; a reassuring squeeze (you’ve made the right choice).

Nestled against him as she is the young girl lightly shakes her head and, in a muffled voice, as timid as a lonely dormouse and logged with water, can’t help the way her next words fall as a shaky plea; a begging reminder. To who even she does not know.

“You’re not my dad.”

Joseph doesn’t so much as bat an eye at her rebuttal, only ducking down to press a feather-light kiss to the top of her head before holding her closer, smoothing her hair back with a calm and measured motion.

“I will be,” Lily tenses at the certainty in his voice, the untold promise. "You may not see it, nor feel it yet, but we are bound to one another. I am your father, Lilian, and no matter the adversities that God may place before us I will love you as such. Just as you will come to love me as my daughter,” there’s the smallest breath, a sharp exhale. “Just as God had promised me.”

Pulling back Joseph’s hands come to rest on her shoulder and against her cheek. The former anchors her, a sure grip that keeps her close and centred in front of him. While the latter is a gentle hold, one he uses to swipe her fallen tears away, his thumb brushing over closed eyes in a move that is both comfortingly familiar and worriedly fear inducing.

“Now, let’s get you inside. You’re freezing, and I am sure my brothers would love to know what you have been up to, hmm?”

His smile is sweet, his words innocuous, but even so she can still hear what sounds like an unspoken warning buried between the lines. A motion of silence or honesty, she isn’t sure.

And as his arm comes to wrap around her shoulders, pulling her into his side and smiling down at her in a way that reminds her too much her dad – so kind and proud and fair – Lily can’t help but take one fleeting glance back toward the lake that had stolen her away. That had reminded her of a time when things were normal and happier; when she wasn’t a prisoner and her dad wasn’t a wanted deputy.

Desperately, as she is lead back into a den of wolves, she prays that they are wrong.

Despairingly, with tears running miserably down her cheeks, Lily prays that her dad has not abandoned her.

#i am so done #this fic was a battle #it took me 6 months! #joseph would not work with me #how dare he #my poor oc tho #she only wants her dad #also #there is NO funny business in this fic so don’t @ me #this is purely familial #joseph is just creepy #joseph seed #joseph seed x oc #child oc #deputy has a kid #fc5 #far cry 5 #far cry #fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #possessive behaviour

[staticscreenwriting]

God only knows - Billy Hargrove

A/N: I wrote this for dacremontgomerylover’s writing challenge. I chose the prompts :  “Are you ready for this?” “Ready as I’ll ever be” // “I’m in love with you, okay?!” // “I want you more than anything!”. 

It’s a bit angsty but mostly It’s cheesy fluff to make your heart all warm and fuzzy.

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

If you should ever leave me Though life would still go on, believe me The world could show nothing to me So what good would living do me God only knows what I'd be without you

Billy’s face is pulled into a frown as he stares at the black suit that hangs from the door of his wardrobe, almost mocking him. He’s supposed to be wearing it, right this moment. He’s supposed to be sitting on a table with a bunch of people he doesn’t particularly care about and listen to music he doesn’t like and drink punch that Tommy H. undoubtedly tried to spike at some point. And he’s supposed to do all that only because it makes (Y/N) happy.

But the truth is, he’s not wearing the suit and he’s not suffering through the bad music choices of the DJ at prom. And he’s not getting to see (Y/N) in her dress. The one she talked about for so long with that breathtaking sparkle in her eyes that makes the world, Billy’s world, seem just a little less shitty.

No. He’s home, alone and fucking miserable. There’s Metallica blasting through the house and a cigarette dangling from his lips and god there’s this awful feeling in his chest that he can’t really explain or understand. It feels bad though. Like someone burst open his chest and reached into it to squeeze his heart tighter and tighter every time he reminds himself of what could’ve been. What should’ve been.

He wonders what (Y/N) is doing now, if she wastes even a hint of a thought on him right now. There’s no doubt in his mind that she looks breathtaking. He knows her dress is red to match her favorite lipstick and he knows she plans on wearing her hair in big curls. She mentioned it one day when they were hanging at Starcourt and shared a serving of Cheese fries. He didn’t show it then but he listened to every word she said. He always listens. Now he wonders if letting her know, if showing her he cares would’ve made a difference.

Because that’s what got him into this whole dilemma, isn’t it ? His inability to let go of stubborn ideas, of dreams that were never dreams to begin with and open up to the one person that ever bothered to listen.

Every time he thinks back to that moment 3 weeks ago, his chest grows tighter and his hands get clammy. It makes him so unimaginably angry, at himself above all.

It was raining that day but it was friday and they spent every friday parked at the edge of the quarry looking down at the water and talking about their week or ranting about their parents or, on rare occasions, coming up with theories on how Steve Harrington’s hair managed to stay that pouffy and voluminous.

So even with the rain crashing down from the heavens, they didn’t wanna break tradition. So they went anyway and got comfortable in the car, sharing cans of coke and a pack of Reese’s Pieces while Mötley Crüe was softly playing from the car radio.

“ So, I got some really exciting news to share “ (Y/N) said and Billy could almost feel the excitement radiating off of her ever word.

“ Yuh ? “ he murmured around a handful of candy, hastily stuffed into his mouth.

“ Mh. I got accepted to University of Michigan. Dad’s super excited about it, he was so close to fainting when he hear — hey are you okay ? “

Billy still remembers the moment she said those words. His heart dropped right down to his gut and he felt both anger and sadness taking over everything.

“ That’s it then, huh ? “ he spat out, jaw tight.

“ What ? “

“ You’re going. To fucking Michigan. So that’s it for us then ? “

“ What are you talking about ? “ (Y/N) asked, confusion masking her beautiful face.

“ I’m going back to California. You know this. You knew this when you applied. “

“ I know, but this is a huge deal, Billy. This is a great opportunity. “

“ Yeah well what about Berkeley? “ his voice got louder with every word. Laced with malice and pure unfiltered betrayal. This wasn’t what they had planned was it ? It was supposed to be them by the west coast. Them in California where things are better. Where things used to be good. Not fucking Michigan.

“ I didn’t get in, okay ? They rejected me. Is that what you want to hear ? I wasn’t good enough. “ there’s another sparkle in her eyes. One of sadness and unshed tears threatening to fall any minute.

“ So ? There’s more universities there. Don’t see why it has to be one in Michigan. It’s like our plan doesn’t even fucking matter to you!  “ he knew it was unfair then. Could feel the guilt taking over his entire being and seeping through every pore. But anger was a feeling Billy was accustomed to. One he knew so well. It was easier to give into that one than face the fact that he was being unreasonable, unfair, and a huge fucking asshole.

“ What plan Billy ? “ (Y/N) asked and threw her arms up in frustration, spilling a bit of coke on the car’s leather seat. “ there is no fucking plan if it doesn’t involve a college for me to go to. All you plan is to go back. That is it. You have no perspective. There is nothing for you to go back to. And I — I would’ve done it if I could’ve. Because it makes you happy. But I need something to work towards. I need a future that doesn’t consist of just going to California and then watching what happens. I was hoping that you would be excited for me and that you would maybe consider putting the move on a hold and come with me until I’m done with university. I’ll have a degree then and an idea on how to build a future in California. Or we could do long distance until I’m done with school. Lots of people do it. . It’s not never it’s just — a little later than you were hoping for. “

In all honesty, she’s the one good thing in his life. The girl who somehow wormed herself in and never left again. The one girl he ever truly loved. But that wasn’t enough in that moment. Not enough  to fight off all the anger and frustration. All the misguided and misplaced fury. Sometimes love isn’t enough. Sometimes anger is louder. Sometimes hurt is. Sometimes fear.

“ No. “

“ No ? You haven’t even — “

“ I said NO !” his voice rang through the car at an ear shattering volume and to him, it sounded an awful lot like the voice of his father. His blood went cold, his hands went clammy and all Billy wanted then, was to turn back time to when things with (Y/N) were easy. When he could still fool himself into thinking that things would work themselves out in the end and ignore the fact that his idea for the future was hazy at best and that asking of her to go with it, was absolutely selfish.

“ So that’s it ? California or nothing ? California or break up entirely ? “ her voice was soft and quiet and he could tell just how close she was to crying. And he hated himself for that, he still hates himself for that.

He didn’t respond with words then, just shrugged his shoulders like the stubborn baby he was, he is. He didn’t want to break up, god no. He loves this girl and even if he never told her that it was in all he did. In the way he didn’t hate going to school. In how he picked her up for class every morning. How he was comfortable just sitting with her and talking. How he told her about his mom. About his dad. In kisses and touches and hushed words when the night was young and quiet.

But he had always had this idea of the future, that he would go back to California as soon as possible and once he returned, things would magically solve themselves. Things would be better. Good even. He never once thought about giving up that plan, that dream of a future that seemed an awful lot like a lie. But it was a comfortable lie. One he liked to believe in.

One that didn’t terrify him as much as the idea of going to Michigan did. Even if that involved her.

“ Guess that’s it. Ball’s in your court “ He didn’t even dare look at her then. Just hearing the tears in her voice. The sadness. The unmistakable sniffles coming from his right, were enough to break his heart. Seeing it would’ve absolutely killed him.

“ Wow, “ she sighed followed by another sniffle “ I can’t believe this. You expect me to give up a secure future. A place at a university that means a lot to my family. For what ? Being a little housewife while you do one odd job after another pretending that all is well. Like being in California magically fixes every problem we have. It doesn’t work like that Billy. If I come, I’ll just be miserable. “

He knew this. Knew that every word she was saying was right. And yet, he was too stubborn to admit it. To her and to himself.

“ For me. You’d give it up for me. “

From the corner of his eyes could see her shaking her head and taking a deep, shaky breath “ No Billy. I’d end up absolutely hating you. “

The next words were some of the hardest he ever had to say and yet they slipped off his tongue as if they were nothing. As if they didn’t change anything.

“ Guess that’s it then. Get out of the car !“

And it was then, that he looked at her for the first time since their fight had started. And despite the tears running down her face and her hair being all messed up from combing her fingers through it in frustration, he thought she was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. To finally face all that he was giving up for selfish reasons, made him realize just how shit of a person he really was. And maybe people had been right all along. Neil. People at school. All of them. Billy Hargrove was an asshole. A liability. He broke things. Good things. The best things. He had actively and on his own accord, broken the one thing, the one person he loved most in the world. And he deserved all the shit that was coming to him. The anger. The pain. The heartbreak.

She didn’t respond, just shook her head, grabbed her bag and opened the door. As she stepped into the rain, Billy could see her jeans getting soaked in the matter of seconds and clinging to her legs. If this had been a movie, he would’ve gotten out of the car and ran up to her. Give her some grand gesture, some romantic speech about how much he loves her and use a lot of big words. He would’ve kissed her and the camera would’ve panned away with some sappy song playing in the background.

But this wasn’t a movie and if it had been, Billy sure wouldn’t have been the hero.

Billy’s face is pulled into a frown as he stares at the black suit that hangs from the door of his wardrobe, almost mocking him. He’s supposed to be wearing it, right this moment. But he’s not and it’s because he fucked up.

His eyes glance towards the ticket placed on his bedside table. The one (Y/N) had bought for him in hopes of spending prom together. The one she’d given him with that huge signature smile on her face.

He wonders if she’s having a good time, if she’s smiling that way now. If today is just another stop on her path to greatness. Because despite it all, Billy thinks she’s destined for greatness and he’s insanely proud of her. And if he wasn’t such a stubborn ass he’d admit to the fact that she deserves so much more than an uncertain future in a state that was never home to her with someone like him. And if he wasn’t such an ass he’d admit to himself that that state won’t be home for him either. No matter the memories. None of what made it home is still there. His mom is dead. His grandparents are dead. There’s no love there. And he actively fucked up the one chance of taking his love there with him.

There’s no love in California but there is love here.

He looks at the photo stuck in the corner of his mirror. It’s of (Y/N) and him and it was taken on his 18th birthday. She was the only one to remember. But that didn’t matter. She was the only person that Billy wanted to spend it with anyway. She’s smiling in the picture as Billy tries to look grumpy about the fact that she’s placed some silly birthday hat on his head. There’s a smirk hidden in the corner of his lips though. Because she makes things happy and worth it. Even the dumb shit. Even the silly stuff.

And it’s then that Billy realizes that all his dreams of the future have two things in common, her and California. But dreaming of them now, without her, feels hollow and dull. And maybe it’s not the place that’s home anymore, that’s happiness, maybe it’s her.

-OOO-

A cheesy Spandau Ballet song echoes through the halls of Hawkins High. (Y/N) hates it for several reasons.

1: It’s a shitty song.

2: it makes for a great song to cuddle with your date on the dancefloor.

And when usually she isn’t one to be envious of other couples, tonight she might as well turn green all over.

This was supposed to be a good night. A night filled with dancing and fun and kisses and dreams of a future with Billy.

But it’s none of that. It’s just a reminder of all the things she doesn’t have. And despite knowing that choosing university, choosing a proper path in life, was the right choice, it doesn’t make her heart hurt any less.

So she slumps down on one of the bleachers, cup of punch in hand and frown on her face. The red tulle of her dress surrounds her like a cloud of red cotton candy.

“ You know you’re supposed to be having fun right ? “

It’s his voice that sends shivers down her spine and makes her heart beat twice as fast.

When she turns towards him, he’s not in a suit but in his signature jeans and white shirt but it’s buttoned all the way up for once and he’s wearing the red tie she bought him that matches the color of her dress perfectly. He looks delicious and it makes her angry. He doesn’t get to break up with her, kick her out of his car, not answer any calls and effectively break her heart and then — and THEN have the audacity to show up here and look like a young god.

“ Nah. You don’t get to do this “ she says and stands up and rushes off. Nowhere in particular just — just away from Billy.

But Billy is sneaky and … fast. (Y/N) doesn’t even realize he’s caught up to her by the time she feels his warm hand softly grabbing onto her arm and spin her around.

When she gets a good look at his face, it’s filled with so many emotions it’s hard to place them all. Billy isn’t usually one to show his feelings. He’s guarded and reserved and the only emotions he really puts on show are anger and lust. And sure, there have been moments when he allowed himself to be vulnerable. When he shared other emotions with her. Sadness and joy and all the things inbetween. Those are the moments that made her fall in love with him in the first place. Those are the moments that are so hard to forget now that she never gets to tell him how much she truly adores him.

“ (Y/N) stop running. “ he says and she’s this close to ripping him a new one. But there’s something in his voice that makes her stop. He seems — he seems sorry. Genuinely. And that’s not something she’s used to. Billy is stubborn and hard headed. He never says sorry.

“ What ? Why are you here, Billy ? “

“ To see you “ his hand lets go of her arm but slowly wanders down towards her hand, softly holding onto her fingers.

“ Yeah well you did. Now can you leave me alone ? You made it abundantly clear that we’re over. “

“ Wasn’t sure you were gonna be here “

“ Oh what, just because you didn’t want to come doesn’t meant I can’t go by myself. Isn’t that the same sentiment you’re going for with the California thing ? “

She says it to hurt him, deliberately. And it’s not fair but (Y/N) is sure whatever he’s feeling doesn’t even come close to the heartbreak he’s put her through. Ever since that night she’s been questioning everything. All the good moments. Was it really worth it? Did she really mean that little to him? Maybe it’s good she never told him how she felt. Maybe — maybe that would’ve completely ruined her.

“ I deserved that one “

“ You think ? Billy I — please just tell me if all we had was just you trying to pass the time. If all I was to you was a distraction until you could finally go home to California. “

His face falls and for a moment she regrets asking. But not knowing would’ve never let her mind go to ease ever again. Some things need to be said, no matter how hard the truth might hit you.

“ Never. Fuck, (Y/N). You were the only good thing in my life. You ARE the only good thing in my life. I don’t want you to think that for one single second. Not one goddamn second, you got me ? “

The tears are threatening to fall, again. It just doesn’t make sense.

“ Why are you here, Billy ? “

“ I’m in love with you, okay ? And I know I fucked up but I needed you to know that. “

His voice is raised and (Y/N) notices him getting more and more uncomfortable as the people around them take notice of their conversation.

And yet it doesn’t lessen the intensity of his words. Or change anything about the way he looks at her. Billy isn’t a person who does grand romantic gestures, especially not in public.

But he does this. Tell her he loves her in a room full of their classmates and he doesn’t waver or look away. He’s there in the moment and it’s all she ever wanted from him.

“ You love me ? “

“ Fuck yeah. I’m sorry I ever made you feel like I didn’t. “ Billy says and pulls her closer, cradling her face in his hand.

“ You look beautiful by the way. Smokin’ if I’m being honest. Like if Michelle Pfeiffer had a child with — I don’t fucking know, but you look incredible. “

“ You’re wearing the tie “.

“ I’m wearing the tie “

His lips are so close to hers she can feel his breath on her skin. And she wants to kiss him so badly, but no sweet words or love declarations suddenly make their problems go away. The fact still stands that her future doesn’t lie in California, at least not for now.

“ Billy ? “ (Y/N) says and pulls away slightly.

“ Hm ? “

“ Let’s get out of here. The music sucks. Tommy did a horrible job at spiking the punch and — “ she stops and looks around them for a moment, making all the nosy classmates around the avert their eyes “ — I think the people here are way too much into other people’s business. “

And he agrees, but not before pressing a soft peck to her lips. Because he’s still Billy Hargrove and if he’s presented with a chance to kiss his girl, even if it’s just a whisper of a touch, he’s gonna take it.

-OOO-

“ You’re a sight for sore eyes “

“ Oh shut up “

There it is again, that smile that he loves so much. He always thought telling her he loves her, actually saying those words, would be hard. That it would fundamentally change things.

It wasn’t and it didn’t. It just slipped out and it took a big weight off of his shoulders. Because whatever comes now, at least she knows how much she truly means to him.

It’s not fundamentally different it’s just — lighter. Easier. He always thought that saying the words out loud would make it harder for him to leave her. That’s not true. It just makes it easier to stay.

(Y/N) is perched on the red leather booth of the diner, across from him. Tull pooling around her like marshmallow fluff. There’s a greasy burger clutched in her hand and she’s smiling. God how he missed her smile.

“ I got you something. I got it last week and I was so close to coming around your but then I — “

“ You chickened out ? “ she asks and smirks.

“ Nah. I don’t chicken out of anything. You know this babe. I just— something came up. “

“ Like what ? “ (Y/N) questions and raises her eyebrow in suspicion.

Like my nerves. He thinks, but doesn’t say.

“ Like Tommy. Idiot locked himself out of his car. Had me pick the lock. “

And it’s not a lie. Not really. He did pick Tommy’s lock, just not that day.

“ How noble of you. “

“ Anyway — “ Billy starts again and fumbles around with his keys for a moment before placing something on the table in front of (Y/N).

“ A key chain ? “

“ Look at it. “

It’s a blue key chain with a bold yellow M on it. As (Y/N) realizes what it actually means, her heart starts beating a mile a minute.

“ It’s a Michigan key chain. Did you — did you drive up to campus ? That’s quite the drive, Billy. “

Billy nods “ Yup. Well I had to check out our future home. It looks nice up there. Pretty fancy. Heard they got some good bars. It’s better than Hawkins for sure. “

“ What are you saying ? “

There’s a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips and (Y/N) thinks it makes him look younger than he usually looks. Almost bashful. Softer. She wishes he would give her more smiles like this.

“ I got a matching one. “

“ Are you saying that you’re considering moving up there, with me ? “

Billy bites his lip and nods, waiting anxiously for her reaction.

And when it does come, it hits him full force. Right in his heart and swallows him whole. That smile. That goddamn smile that has him hooked. Line and sinker.

“ Billy, what about California ? I don’t want you to give up your dreams for me. If it’s what you really want I think we could make it work in one way or another. “

Billy just shakes his head though “ No, (Y/N). I want California yeah. But that’s a place and it can fucking wait for us. They ain’t ready for us anyway. I want you more than anything. Those three weeks where I didn’t have you around made me realize that I don’t want a future anywhere if it doesn’t include you. We’re gonna make Michigan our fucking bitch. “

There’s a smile on his face so big, (Y/N) doesn’t think she’s ever seen him smile that hard. She thinks it’s her favorite sight of all time.

It’s when the sounds of God Only Knows by the Beach Boys stars sounding through the diner, that Billy gets up and holds out his hand to (Y/N) who raises her eyebrow in question.

“ I think I owe you a dance, don’t I ? “

“ You hate dancing. “

“ I also hate ties and buttoning up my shirts and yet here I am. You wanna do this or not ? “

(Y/N) take a last sip of her soda before getting up and being pulled into Billy’s arms.

To have him hold her tight and sway with her, it when she realizes how much she missed this boy. Flaws and issues and all, he’s her boy. Her Billy.

“ I can’t wait to start this journey with you. “ (Y/N) murmures as her head rests against his shoulder.

“ I’m so proud of you, (Y/N). I know I didn’t say it when I should have but you’re — you’re so cool. Pretty sure you’re the only person with an ass almost as good as mine. And you — you make life seem less shit which is really all I can ask for. “

“ I love you Billy Hargrove “

It’s the first time he hears those words from anyone that isn’t his mother. There’s no way to properly express just how they make him feel.

Being loved is terrifying but he thinks it might just be worth it.

“ And I love you. “

“ Are you ready for this ? “ she asks, a gentle expression on her face and endless adventure sparkling in her eyes.

“ Ready as I’ll ever be. “

And it’s true. Nothing has ever felt more true in his life except maybe the fact that he’s in love with her.

Billy doesn’t know what’s gonna happen. He doesn’t know if things will work out. What he does know though, is that he loves her and that a future without her seems really fucking boring and miserable.

But that’s not a future he’ll have to face anytime soon.

She’s here in his arms and as her lips softly meet his, he can’t wait for more moments like these. In Indiana or Michigan or California. It doesn’t matter as long as they’re together.

And maybe sometimes love is enough to overcome the pain and the hurt and the fear.

And maybe sometimes life gives you a moment when it does feel like a movie.

And maybe sometimes even someone like Billy Hargrove gets to be the hero in that scene.

#dacremontgomerylover1.2k #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #dacremontgomerylover

[vfdbaudelairefile13]

Misery Loves Company Part 1

Prologue: The One Where Lemony Learns of a Very Forlorn Death 

I am going to be kind enough to give you the chance to change your mind about reading the sad tale of Violet Snicket and her two half-siblings, Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire. You might think that the lives of three children would be safe, fun, and comfortable...but in the case of these three, you would be entirely wrong. That’s because rarely anything was safe, fun, or comfortable in the lives of these very unfortunate children. Each of these children was extremely unlucky, leading unfortunate and terribly unhappy lives.

This story begins like how a great number of other stories begin, in the middle of someone else’s story because no story has a true beginning or even a true ending, most stories are just snippets and interjections of a grander story. The story we’ll be interjecting ourselves into will be the story of Lemony Snicket. 

 Lemony Snicket was a middle-aged man. He had a clean face, rigid build, eyes of ocean blue, with dark brown hair. He nearly always wore a frown upon his face, he was someone who has been through the wringer a few times. Some days he didn’t know how he survived the days of his youth...or the inevitable heartbreak that made him into the lonely man he is today. 

Lemony was an odd man, he had a rather unusual knack of defining words and phrases randomly, and when I say randomly, I mean it. It doesn’t matter who he is speaking to or whether or not he was the one speaking, Lemony would just say a word or phrase followed by the sentence, “which is a word or phrase which here means…”. He was what many people would consider a bibliophile, a man who loves words. There were only two things he loved more than words and his outdated typewriter, that was the love of his life, Beatrice Baudelaire, and more importantly his fourteen-year-old daughter, Violet. 

Due to complicated circumstances, Lemony ended up being a single father to Violet when his daughter was still just an infant which was not a problem to Lemony, the last thirteen years of his life were the happiest, although you wouldn’t be able to tell because the man rarely ever smiled in public. He loved having his daughter around. Unfortunately, there was one factor in his life that made having and raising a child much more difficult.

Lemony was considered a fugitive, he was on the lam for a situation that had happened shortly before Violet’s birth. In some cases, Lemony was also assumed by many of his old friends and colleagues to be dead, which he was also strangely fine with. This made keeping Violet a secret from VFD a lot easier.  He rarely liked to discuss the events that led to his less than perfect life with his daughter. Violet has asked him on numerous occasions but he rarely ever told her more than it was an unfortunate misunderstanding involving him, her birth mother, and a few of his former friends, some of whom have become his enemies. This was one of the reasons Lemony was glad that no one from his organization knew about Violet’s existence. He and Beatrice promised each other that she would be kept safe from anything related to VFD. 

Violet was a curious girl, she had an intellectually inventive mind. At only fourteen years old Lemony considered his daughter, one of the finest young inventors and in all honesty, even if she weren’t his daughter, he would still bestow this title upon her. Lemony couldn’t be more proud of his daughter whenever he saw her tying her long brown hair up with one of her many solid color ribbons, he would smile to himself because he knew the wires, nuts, and bolts of his daughter’s mechanical mind were working at top speed with a new invention and Violet didn’t want something as trivial as her hair to ruin her concentration. 

Lemony felt as though he failed Violet in many ways. For starters, he has never been able to relocate her mother, but it wasn’t due to a lack of trying. In his youth, Lemony was a prominent member of a secret organization alongside Beatrice and this organization was the exact reason as to why he lost touch with Beatrice so many years ago. Lemony refuses to allow his daughter to be involved in such a dangerous organization which is why he has done his absolute best to keep the entire thing a secret from her, although it broke his heart to do so. He knew that his daughter had so many unanswered questions about her past and her own birth mother, but Lemony had to be careful about what information he gave to her. He couldn’t let her know about VFD or his and Beatrice’s involvement within it. Lemony had done some not-so noble things in the past, albeit for noble reasons with noble intentions but it didn’t change the fact that he and Beatrice walked the grey line of morality and at some points during their acrobat routine, both had fallen on the darker, more wicked side of things once or twice. He didn’t want his daughter to be ashamed of him or her birth mother. To try to free himself of some of the guilt surrounding the topic, Lemony had purchased a beautiful silver, heart-shaped locket for Violet for her fifth birthday. On one side of the locket had Violet’s name engraved to it and her birthday right underneath her name in smaller print, while the other side was plain. He had put a picture of her birth mother inside of it even writing Beatrice’s name on the back of the picture. Ever since that day, you would rarely ever find Violet without that locket. It was always around her neck or as she put it, “The locket lands right on my heart, so whoever’s picture is inside,  I am keeping close to my heart,” That same year believe it or not, Violet had sewn her father a yellow ribbon with the words World’s Best Dad in sewn in purple, which he wore on his wrist like a watch. 

Lemony would describe his and Violet’s relationship as extremely close. The two of them were literally thick as thieves with Lemony living his life on the run from both the authorities and former enemies this was the only way for the two of them to live. He and Violet spent a lot of time together, and when they did spend time apart, they were never far from each other. Due to their situation, they always lived in either a small studio apartment or motel room. It was all he could risk renting. Of course, he never used his real name, he had a long list of aliases that he used interchangeably to keep his identity hidden from anyone who would want to hurt his daughter or himself. 

But although the two were so close, Lemony felt he was robbing his young daughter of a true childhood, there was not a day where he believed had she still been in Beatrice’s custody that she would have a more fulfilled life and a better childhood rather than the sorry excuse of a childhood he has provided. Living life on the lam alongside his daughter, meant that he and Violet were always moving. If Lemony had any doubt in his mind that where they lived had been compromised, it was time to go. Violet had learned at a young age to just go along with her father’s insanity even if it didn’t seem normal, because of this Lemony and Violet always had backpacks that rested next to their front door, they kept essentials in there. Violet has always known life to be spontaneous and adventurous, but she longed for a normal life. She knew that this would never be the case, seeing that her father was falsely accused of numerous crimes and she swore that he once told her that he was also suspected to be dead, but she couldn’t be so sure. She secretly hoped that during his odd jobs of investigating, that maybe he’ll one day find enough evidence to clear his name and then he’d show the world that he hadn’t died and that he wasn’t a wicked man like the papers wanted everyone to believe. She loved her father but she felt like there was more to life than hiding in the shadows and hoping for a new day to arrive. 

On this particular day, Lemony and Violet were out shopping at a convenience store, Lemony ushered his daughter to be quick as he did not feel comfortable being outside in public very along, especially in the city. Had he known where all of his enemies were at every second of the day, living a normal life would be easier on Lemony but alas, that was an impossible feat. He could not risk anyone from his glory days seeing him especially with a teenage girl who looked so much like Beatrice. Anyone who knew him or Beatrice would be able to put two and two together. 

“Violet...let’s go,” Lemony called to her as he tipped his fedora a bit lower to hide his face better.

Violet smiled, “I’m coming, why you are in such a rush Mr. Lemons,” she replied jokingly using a nickname she had given her father when she was a small child.

Lemony smiled at the nickname but replied to her in a slightly stern tone, “You know it’s not safe for me to be out in public for too long. So please grab a few more snacks and let’s go,”

Violet nodded running back into the small, narrow aisles of the convenience store. 

“Hello, Mr. Feint. In a hurry, yet again,” the storekeeper said to Lemony as he proceeded to hand over the merchandise.

“Oh, always. But my daughter doesn’t always grasp that concept it seems,” 

“Aye, she’s a young girl. Young girls like to live life at the moment, and sometimes that moment can be dragged on a little longer than the rest of us would like,”

Lemony rolled his eyes.

“Did you hear about the fire?” the storekeeper asked. 

Lemony’s eyes went wide. Fire. A word that triggered so many good and bad memories to flow back to the forefront of his mind. He hadn’t investigated fires in a while, he hadn’t paid attention to any kind of fire, literal fire or figurative fires, in such a long time. The word always burned him at his inner core. He looked back to make sure Violet wasn’t anywhere in earshot. “What fire?”

“It’s on the front page of the Daily Punctilio,” 

“Oh...trust me, you can’t believe anything  you read in the Daily Punctilio,” Lemony replied, “In all honesty, I’m surprised those idiots haven’t been sued for defamation, yet.”

“I don’t know, man, it seems real. The Baudelaire mansion is a pile of charred rubble now,” 

Lemony’s heart fell to his stomach and the world began to spin around him. “D-d-did you just say...Baudelaire mansion?” He turned again to where Violet was still shopping and for once in her life, he was glad she was ignoring him and taking her leisurely time. He most definitely didn’t want her to hear anything about the name, “Baudelaire”. 

“Yeah, it’s a shame what happened. The paper says it was a freak accident. Either way, those poor kids, having to grow up without a mother or father,” the storekeeper said handing a copy of the Daily Punctilio toward Lemony. Lemony quickly grabbed the paper and he couldn’t believe his eyes as he skimmed through the article. Right there on the front page was a piece of news that changed his life forever. “Baudelaire Mansion Destroyed”

No! It couldn’t be true. Not Beatrice! She couldn’t have been residing in the same city as he and Violet. There’s no way, she can’t be dead.  Before he knew it, he could feel tears slowly falling from his eyes, he hurriedly wiped them. 

The shopkeeper realizing that Lemony was starting to cry, looked up at him and started to stare at him intensely for several moments. This started to concern Lemony, who looked at the shopkeeper and asked, “Can I help you?”

The shopkeeper shook their head ever so slightly and replied, “I didn’t realize this was a sad occasion.”

And with that sentence, Lemony’s eyes went wide. He threw money down in front of the shopkeeper, rolled up the newspaper as best as he could to hide it from Violet and he rushed to her and grabbed her by her arm as gently as he could. He did his best to not let her see his face. Violet looked confused but she was used to his irrational behavior so after a moment of questioning why they were rushing out of the convenience store, she just went along with it. 

Later that day, Lemony was able to come up with a lie to excuse himself to leave for another day of his investigative work. Violet hadn’t thought much of it, just another typical day in the life of her father. All afternoon, Lemony had found a way to hide from Violet and reread the article that he had bought from the storekeeper. Each time he read the headline, he still couldn’t believe it. Beatrice was dead. Bertrand, an old friend of his, was also deceased leaving behind two young children. Well, Beatrice had left behind three children. How was he ever supposed to tell her? She had many hopes and dreams about meeting her birth mother and getting to know her...but now she will never get that chance. This whole time, Beatrice presided in the same city as the two of them. Lemony felt like utter shit, his resources were limited because he was either presumed dead or on the lam but that didn’t make him feel any better about himself as a father or the entire situation as a whole. 

Lemony couldn’t simply stay in their motel room and sulk. He wanted to see this to believe it. Thankfully the Daily Punctilio had printed the address to where his darling dearest had resided for who knows how long. He had decided to walk seeing that it was not as far from his residence as he expected. His mind wandered endlessly about who could have done this? What if it was a freak accident? He laughed at that notion. He knew someone was behind this. These things don’t just happen, especially not to a prominent VFD agent who has made a few enemies of her own. He wondered if Beatrice had ever given up VFD. He believed that she and Bertrand would have to see that they had two children together. Violet has a brother and sister ...that she may never meet.  Every single time his mind wandered back to Violet, he felt more and more like a horrible father. He never found her mother, and now it’s too late. She may never get to meet her half-siblings since Lemony would not be able to adopt them since he was on the lam and in other cases, presumed dead.  His mind was torturing him his entire walk. Asking a thousand and one questions that he may never answer. Now he knew how Violet felt every time she asked about Beatrice. So many questions in your head but no answer ever arrives. 

As Lemony reached the burned remains of his ex-fiance’s mansion, his heart dropped for the second time today. Everything was charred and ashy. Lemony could imagine just how the fire looked from the inside. The fire was not generous, it didn’t leave anything untouched or salvageable. The entire mansion smelled of smoke and ash as if the fire had just been set. Lemony had to be careful where he walked as to not trip on anything or allow his weight to break the surfaces underneath his feet. He had never been to this mansion, of course, but he closed his eyes and imagined just how beautiful Beatrice would have kept it. He began crying again as he walked around what he assumed to be the library, which was now a pile of ashes and broken down bookshelves. He strolled around to each room as carefully as he could, imagining what his and Violet’s life would have been like had he made better choices in his youth. Beatrice is dead because of me. My daughter will never meet her mother and it’s all my fault. That’s all that played through his mind as he walked along the desolate and burned down mansion. 

He was so lost in his thoughts that he jumped upon hearing a cough. “Shit,” he muttered to himself and quickly found a safe place to hide. He could not be seen, especially not here and not by the authorities. The authorities would blame him for this crime and then he’d surely never see his daughter again. The only evidence they could use against him is the notion that some arsonists like to revisit the scene of the crime, to see the damage that they did. To revel in the fact that they had tarnished someone’s property and life. He could not give anyone a reason to believe that he had started this fire. So he hid in a spot where he could see if the coughing figure was getting close to him or his hiding place. Lemony would be ready to fight off whoever it was and run, run like Hell, get Violet and move again. As the figure got closer, the coughing didn’t stop, it actually got a lot worse. When the figure finally got into a good viewing point, Lemony noticed that it was Arthur Poe, which would explain the excessive coughing.

“Well, children. I would have taken you to see what remains of your house but the official fire department asked me to wait until it was a bit safer,” Mr. Poe managed to say after a long fit of coughing.

Two smaller figures that seemed to be children appeared from behind him. Lemony could see their faces and immediately could tell that they were the kids from the Daily Punctilio. His heart broke in two when he saw that the young boy, he believed the newspaper referred to him as Klyde, began to cry as he held his infant sister, Susie. 

Those were Beatrice’s children. Alive and well. Well, except for the fact they were orphans now. Lemony lowered his head and looked at the ground. These poor children. This was so unfair. Lemony wondered what would come of them now. Who would the children be placed in the care of? Beatrice and Bertrand must have some sort of plan for these children. Lemony wanted so badly to just walk out of his hiding place and tell Mr. Poe that he’d take the children but he knew deep down he couldn’t. 

“We have absolutely nothing,” Klaus replied to Mr. Poe.

Lemony frowned. If those kids are anything like their mother, they’ll get through this. There’s no way their story gets worse from here. 

I hate to inform you that Lemony, was in fact, dead wrong. So dead wrong that I am going to give you a chance right now, to run away, run far away from whatever device you are using to read this sad tale because the story does get worse, it gets much, much worse. In my extensive research on the Baudelaire and Snicket cases, I can tell you that this is only the beginning and the further you go down this rabbit hole, the sadder things get, the more dire things get. It is my deepest apologies to tell you this, but that’s how the story goes.  If you’re still here, this is your fault…but on with the story.

Mr. Poe frowned at Klaus’ statement, “Your parents left behind an enormous fortune which will be yours when Klaus comes of age. Until then you will live with your dear Count Olaf, who will raise you in place of your parents.”

Klaus and Sunny didn’t reply to this just kept wandering the burnt remains of their homes but Lemony froze over. Did he just hear Poe correctly? Count Olaf? Their dear Count Olaf? Lemony immediately realized that this story was not over and he was now involved. There was no way Beatrice and Bertrand would want their children placed in that wretched man’s care. Something was not right. Lemony did not know how Olaf managed to get a hold of these kids, but if Lemony had anything to do with it, he wouldn’t have them in his custody for very long.

[I want to say thank you to one of my friends, Bunni [@hongmoondescendant for the first pic (the one that looks like a film reel. Truly appreciate it. Thank you.

Also big thanks to everyone on the VFDiscord that has been uber supportive of this AU idea and everyone who has helped me figure out how I was going to do the first four without Violet. There are so many of you. Love and appreciate you all. Hope yall LOVE this]

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