#he’s afraid he wouldn’t be able to give himself to save her if he had some happiness of his own to give up | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

koisuko · 1 month

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Hello, I was wondering if you would write a romantic Smoke x female reader, about Smoke trains the reader self defense but they start to flirt and become handy with each other?

Yesss, more Tomas lovers!

Tw: handsy behavior, flirtation, may contain lewd suggestions, fem reader, no use of y/n

You are far from incapable of taking care of yourself, and Tomas knew that. But having a boyfriend who was both a ninja, and had ninja enemies, he was worried for your safety. Often times, his mind would run wild with ‘what if’ questions. ‘What if I’m not there to save her’ ‘what if something happens to her’ ‘what if she gets taken, or worse’ and many more. So, to set his mind at ease, you agreed to train with him and learn some basic self defense. It couldn’t hurt to learn something new, and maybe you’ll be able to fight along side him…someday.

Every morning, you two would wake up early to have the training grounds to yourselves. Tomas wanted to make sure that you felt comfortable, and wouldn’t be shy or embarrassed if you made a mistake in front of others. Plus, you two would have alone time to be yourselves without any on lookers giving awkward side-eyes.

Today, training was done a little bit earlier than usual. The moon hung high over the sky, bathing the courtyard in an almost ethereal glow. The calls of night life offered a backdrop to the sounds of grunts and exerted breaths. “Good, again.” Tomas repeated, repositioning himself opposite of you with a twirl of his Karambit. Blankets of heavy smoke swirled around his figure, moving to settle beside him on either side. You nod, careful to perfect your defensive stance. The role was simple, Tomas wouldn’t go easy on you, as promised, and you would work on your defense as if against a real enemy. “Remember,” he spoke, “don’t be afraid to hit me, okay?” You hesitated at first, but nod reluctantly. With the confirmation out of the way, he charged at you, running low with his karambit held at his side. You tried your best to keep your confidence, but seeing him run at you was intimidating, causing your stance to falter and allowing him an opening to attack. Before long, your back collided harshly against the ground. The sheer velocity nearly knocking the wind out of you. Tomas kept you beneath him with his thighs firmly closed around you, forcefully keeping your arms at your side. His arms caged either side of your head, and the close proximity of his lips to yours was making you blush. "Do not hesitate, be sure of your actions or you create an opening for attack." His words bounced off the skin of your cheek. The best part of this whole situation, he seemed oblivious to the effect he was having on you.

He paused in his movements, giving you a questioning look. His head tilted to the side as his eyes trail along the contours of your face. He was confused, concerned even, at the red hue swallowing your cheeks and your parting lips gasping for air. “What’s wrong?” Tomas asked, his brows knitted together. The only response you could give, was a pathetic squeak, squirming beneath him while turning your face away to provide at least some space between the two of you. To your surprise, he grasped the base of your jaw, turning your gaze to meet his once again. “Do you need a break?” He was still blissfully unaware, the stupid look of concern still written on his features. “I-I’m fine, Tomas,” you replied. Tomas loosened the pressure of his thighs on your body, giving you the prime opportunity to use your weight and strength to reverse the roles. With a thud and a grunt, he was now beneath you, your face still flush with embarrassment. Tomas was surprised, is eyes shot wide from the sudden turn of events. “V-very good, you did well!” He blushed at the sudden power you had, his stutter causing you to giggle in response. “I think I like you better from this angle,” you smirked, placing a hand on his chest. You pushed yourself up, reaching out to help him. You could feel the slick sweat of his palms between your clasped hands. He was nervous, in a good way of course. Tomas unknowingly had a love struck smile on his face, hearts nearly visible in his pupils. He cleared his throat awkwardly, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. Tomas took a deep breath to gather courage before approaching, gingerly placing a hand on your waist, “you did well today.” For a split second, he admired the shape of you, every bump and curve that created you. His eyes trailed back up to meet yours with a tender smile. “Let’s get some rest.”

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buckybarnesb-tch · 3 months

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I have a Story Stuck in my Head!

Hybrids Mafia Princess Series

I want to know if anyone thinks of something similar because this one has been running through my head for months. You know the story you tell in your head to fall asleep to? This has been mine for a while.

Mafia!Bucky Barnes and his girl have been together for years now and have a daughter, she has been the light of her fathers life since the day she was born, spoiled rotten.

As she got older though they grew apart, Bucky having no clue what to do with a teenage daughter, he still adores her of course, but she feels as if he has forgotten about her for years…

Cue Klaus Mikaelson!

Y/n meets Klaus at some party her father is forced to bring his wife and daughter to, schmoozing with all of the political idiots New York has to offer and Klaus (who has only recently broken his curse mind you) realizes that Y/n is his wolfs mate, one he has craved since the day he first killed and turned into a werewolf over 1000 years ago.

Klaus introduces himself, getting his girl a drink and flirting, barely noticing all of the looks he receives from the men around the room who all know better than to get that close to James Barnes daughter. They end up in a corner talking about anything and everything, both of them loving how honest they are able to be with each other for what feels like the first time ever, until of course one of her fathers men shows up. She quickly tells Steve to fuck off before pulling Klaus outside, insisting he leaves, giving him time to get away from her father and though Klaus doesn’t care about the man, he sees her fear and he does as she asks.

Later that night, after her mother scolded her all the way home for leaving her security (something that she’s sure was really her fathers issue but he had forced her mother to bring it up, making her feel like her father was avoiding her again) she hears a knock on her window and opens it to find her sexy Hybrid waiting for her to invite him in. They spend the whole night talking and Klaus tells her everything, knowing that his mate would be the one person that wouldn’t judge him or leave him. Y/n also told Klaus about her life, about who her father is and how she feels unloved by him and trapped in this house, and Klaus swears to save her, promises to give her a life away from her fathers business and cruelty (not that Klaus’ cruelty is any better but at least he won’t ever let her wonder whether he loves her or not, she will always know and that is a comfort to her in every way she needed).

One of Bucky’s men sees Klaus sneaking out her window before dawn and informs his boss, running a background check on the man and finding 5 different identities, this convinces Bucky that the man was sent by one of his enemies to hurt him by getting to his daughter. Bucky berates her for being so stupid to fall for this and though she knows the truth she can’t tell him about Klaus, she swore she would tell no one and she won’t break her promise. Bucky breaks Y/n’s heart, believing her so dumb and naive but she allows him to think this of her, already believing her father hates her anyway, which is why she does not hesitate to run away with Klaus later that night.

Bucky searches for her for months, his heart broken at the idea that his daughter thought she was unloved by him. He needed her to know that it wasn’t true and he was just an idiot who didn’t know how to care for a teenage girl. Eventually he finds a man who had been dealing with Klaus lately, clearly not knowing that he was a vampire and ending up injured beside Steve with the rest of his men all slaughtered.

It’s then that Y/n shows up, more beautiful than Bucky had ever seen her, screaming at the creature and demanding he explain why he believed he had the right to harm her family, shocking Bucky and Steve both at how terrified this man was of her. They quickly realized however that it wasn’t really Y/n that he was afraid of as Klaus shows up…

Honestly I have many different endings to that story at this point but it’s been rotting my brain for a while now so I thought ‘maybe someone else will like it too’ and here we are🤣

Mafia!Bucky’s Daughter is Klaus’ Mate Moodboard

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jahayla-parker · 2 months

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💭Headcanon: send in a character and a scenario or type of reader to get a bullet point list of thoughts on it.

okay okay, kaz brekker x sister!reader

Kaz Brekker's Sister Headcannons

I feel like his sister would be the youngest (born after both Jordie and Kaz). 'Cause part of his trauma is being afraid to rely on someone older who he thought would take care of him.

Running with that thought, Kaz would take that ^^^ type of role towards his sister very seriously. He vowed he wouldn’t let her down the way Jordie let him down (don’t come for me! His internal thoughts mention this frustration in the books so it’s canon).

We know Kaz is obviously very protective over those he cares about, which would undoubtedly extend to his sister. But, his role as the older brother added to that. And his disappointment and anger towards Jordie’s role in what happened ask those years ago, added to that as well; he wasn’t going to do that to his sister.

Although, he knew it wasn’t something he could prevent. Since it already happened to her once; the same day it happened to him. Jordie was her older brother as well. But Kaz nevertheless vowed to never let her down.

Kaz vowed to never make her have to worry about or even question having a roof over her head, a warm room to sleep in, food , etc.

He kept a healer on hand should she get sick ever (even so much as a cold). He wasn’t taking any chances. While he refused to let healers touch him he required it for her wellbeing.

She never had to worry about her safety. He’d taught her how to defend herself, how to fight, kill, etc.

He kept her from having to experience the financial difficulties he was old enough to experience due to Jordie’s deal with Rollins and as they aged, he made sure it stayed that way now that she was old enough to be able to know if that was the case as he made sure they always had enough funds saved up and the means to get more some should it be needed.

Kaz would’ve been so upset when his sister became ill, to the point it inadvertently made himself much sicker from stress.

Kaz tried to do whatever he could to get her feeling better, giving any scraps of sustenance to her instead of taking his portion/share and using their only blanket to cover more of her body by not covering any of his.

It would only have driven his anger against Pekka even further because he not only lost his older brother, he almost lost his little sister and he watched her suffer the loss of jordie as well

Given she was so young (given the age gap between Jordie and Kaz at the time of incident, I’m assuming she’s roughly 7 ish), it was a lot to process and try to make sense of

And poor Kaz wasn’t much better at that; certainly not to the point he’d be able to be much help for her in this area

As such, he resorted to simply helping raise her as if this new life was simply how their lives had always been

Because he’d used the blanket on her and not himself, and had literally given her some of the clothing off his back to keep her from freezing to death, she’d managed to survive the night.

In fact, while her body was too hypothermic to wake up when the medics came through and took her brothers, she was fortunate enough to be just warm enough to not be considered dead the way Kaz was, and as such, wasn’t dumped in the harbor with Jordie.

As such, she didn't develop the trauma with touch like Kaz

But, it was her presence on land that truly drove Kaz’s survival.

His body was giving up and he wanted nothing more than to just give in

And he especially didn’t want to have to use his brother’s body as a flotation mechanism in order to survive

But his vengeance and his inherent need to protect his little sister drove him

We know Kaz is shit when it comes to being around sick people now (understandably) but the one exception would be his sister should she fall ill.

That’s not to say he wasn’t still horrible at handling it, or that he wouldn’t go into a full on panic spiral at the tiniest sign of her getting sick

But, he was also unable to pull himself from her side until she healed.

He refused to ever risk being away from her while she was ill ever again.

As far as his touch phobia, that undoubtedly extended to his sister as well, although he truly hated himself for it (more so than when it came to his touch phobia in general).

But, it was out of his control. Besides things got better with time.

It started rough and killed his spirit each time when his little 7yr old sister wanted to hold her surviving brother’s hand while walking through the “scary” streets of the Barrel or otherwise simply sought physical comfort from him.

Especially because he’d once been able to offer that to her and he knew she was old enough to remember that and he saw the clear proof of that in her sad eyes every time he pulled away

But by that point, he’d suffered the worst of it. So he knew they’d power through

The worst was when he made it back to her and he’d had to explain to her that jordie was not coming back. As if her sobs and screams weren’t painful enough for Kaz, she tried to cling onto him for support, only to find herself confused and more distraught when he scrambled away

With time, the two orphans inevitably took over the town.

At first Kaz wouldn’t let his sister get involved

Until he realized that was futile, especially if he wanted her to start safe

He had caught her defiantly trying to help on her own, so he eventually caved and taught her everything she needed to now how to do and brought her into the business

Inej and Kaz’s interaction about crows was actually similar to what happened with his sister years before and that’s what made him choose to name their new elite crewmembers and dare his sister say friends, his crows.

Kaz used his power in the Barrel to create a safety shield around his sister

He knew she was a vulnerability to him and in turn was at risk by association, so most people didn’t know she was his sister

She’d been hurt at first when he told her this was how they’d go about their new life, after all, she was so young and didn’t understand but he did it for her sake

And if people did find out about them being siblings, they’d assume that she and Kaz must not be as close as normal siblings because they saw the business relationship only and assumed that’s all there was between them even when finding out about the blood relation (it helped that Kaz always made a name for himself as someone who didn’t care about anyone else), which worked to keep people from using her as bait or something against Kaz. Which was what he’d masterminded of course.

She was 7 so she didn’t understand the need to change their last names and start fresh but she trusted Kaz fully

She is and was the only person he ever took flack from and or allowed/allows to yell or argue etc with him but only in private

Kaz knew his sister would be struggling with Jordie’s death, as he himself was and still is

But he knew he was not going to be much help

He did as much as he could, if she’d suffered anxiety or panic attacks, he was there to offer verbal assistance and support

And he helped her take part in getting revenge for what they went through

But he couldn’t talk about it. It was still too much and talking was no longer a strength of his.

He couldn’t talk to her when she was younger as he needed her to simply follow along with what he said and believe this was just the way things went all along

But as they got older he still found himself unable to talk to her about it

But that’s why he finally told Inej just enough for her to know that his sister would be having similar issues as him since she was so worried about his behaviors and in turn, he knew Inej would go to her and be able to offer the support he couldn’t

Again, I could go on and on, but I loved this idea!

Kaz Taglist: @dil3mma @directioner5life @ell0ra-br3kk3r @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r @winstonthecow22 @alex-kazbrekkersimp @wolfmoonmusic @phoenix666stuff @kentucky-criedfricken @twlegit @valeridarkness @shara-ne @crazyhearttragedy @opheliaofficial07 @historynerd77 @missdreamofendless @nikfigueiredo @el-de-phi @adalia-jaycee @bookloverfilmoholic @beekeepingageissome

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marvelcriminalhoe · 2 years

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His Sinful Devotion

Part 6

Older! Dark! Church guy! Steve Rogers x Innocent! Naive! Preachers daughter! Reader

Warnings: Age gap (Reader is 20 Steve is late 30s early 40s), Dark, manipulation, blow job, daddy kink, face fucking, chocking, deep throating, tears, Steve is hardcore manipulative (I’m serious), reader is hardcore innocent, innocent kink, praise kink. Possessive kink. 18+ ONLY I think that’s all? Idk let me know if I’m missing something.

AN: I finally got my account to work! I'm so happy I can get this out now!! anyway here it is. I'm really excited for the part after this one, which will be the moment we've all been waiting for ;) until then, enjoy this :))

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 1,675

Steve hadn’t felt this nervous in awhile. He knew everything had to be perfect, he wouldn’t settle for less.

After the week at camp, getting to spend every night with you in his arms, he knew he couldn’t wait any longer. Having to go back to sleeping alone was the worst and Steve didn’t want to do it anymore, not when he knows what it’s like to sleep next to you now. He didn’t think it could get any better.

He’s also tired of holding himself back, he wants you. Wants to ravish you. He wants to allow himself to completely take you as hard and rough as he wants without this worry. He used to think he had amazing self control until you came into his life, and now he’s tired of holding himself back. He deserves you. You were made to be his perfect, innocent, beautiful wife, and he was tired of not having all of you, all of the time.

He’s also exhausted of playing this small town gentleman roll. The nice church guy act is draining, and the moment he has you completely in his clutches, a ring on your hand, your body claimed by his, the faster he can move out of this small town, somewhere new, and can just live without some type of mask on.

Bucky is close behind him, making leeway with his own girl, and both men are just ready to retire, ready to have that white picket fence, perfect dotting wife, and a couple of kids. The perfect life they’ve always dreamed of having.

And it will all start with you.

And it will all start tonight.

Steve will make sure it’s perfect. You deserve perfect. He loves you, truly. He’s utterly obsessed with you, would stop the world from spinning if you asked him to. He wants everything to be perfect, not because he’s afraid you’ll say no.

He knows you wouldn’t deny him anything.

But because he wants to give you the stars. Wants to give you a memory you’ll look back in fondly every time you’re asked to recall it.

Your parents were thrilled when Steve asked for your hand. He didn’t think he really needed too, he’s played the game well enough to know you’re attached to him, to his will and permission, not your parents. But he still has to wear the mask for a little while longer.

Just until he has you completely.

Steve planned everything and knew it would turn out immaculate, until fucking Sharon opened her mouth.

“Don’t you think this is all a little much?”

Steve’s patience is wearing thin, mostly because he’s so sexually frustrated. Even with getting to explore and touch your body, he hasn’t been able to have it all, to bury his cock balls deep into your into your untouched cunt like he so desperately needs to.

Your mother, being the pastor wife she is, insisted to Steve that the church women would help him prepare and set up everything. Her heart was in the right place he supposes, but having Sharon anywhere near him, especially after that mean girl stunt she pulled at the camp, makes his already waring patience, disappear completely.

“No.” Steve has to physically make his jaw unclench, reminding himself now is not the time to lash out, when other ears are around, “This isn’t even close to being enough, actually. But I need to save something for the wedding and honeymoon.”

The other women coo we him, admiring his love for you and wanting to do such romantic gestures, but the scowl on Sharon’s face only depends, and Steve knows he’s going to have to do something extreme soon to make sure she doesn’t ruin anything for you when it comes to the big day.

He won’t allow anyone to ruin you. Only he’s allowed to do that.

“I think it’s beautiful, Steve.” Your mom pipes up as everyone looks at the set up around the lake. There flower petals lining the ground all the way to the end of the dock, white roses along the railings. Fairy lights align the wall way from the dock to the cabin door. And inside the cabin, is a beautiful diner set up, set for two. Steve picked up the steak dinner from his favorite restaurant before he arrived here to make sure everything was set up exactly as he asked for it to be.

Steve smiles, “Thank you.” Looking at all the women, “And thank you for helping set everything up.”

“Of course. We are so happy you’re going to be apart of the family soon.” Your mother pats his shoulder.

Steve nods, not bothering in telling her he plans on stealing you away from here the moment you say ‘I do’. Theres no need, and even if she knew and wanted to stop it, Steve knows she wouldn’t be able to.

You became his the moment he laid eyes on you.

He doesn’t feel nervous as he picks you up from your house, doesn’t feel nervous as you ask him where you’re going for date night, he doesn’t even feel nervous when he finally pulls up to the front of the cabin, perfect timing, the sun starting to set over the water as he leads you down the path of rose petals.

Your heart starts beating a little faster, knowing something was up the moment Steve answered your questions with a cog smirk or wink. Of course, you could be wrong, Steve is extremely romantic, but the whispers around church revolving your relationship have been growing louder and louder since camp, wedding bells being faintly heard in the air.

It’s something you’ve been thinking about more of as well. If the courtship you and steve have is meant to grow into a marriage. Everyone says it is, says he’s perfect, and he has been nothing but perfect for you. You’ve never experienced a relationship, never experienced anything other than Steve. And even if there was a part of you that was unsure, a part that was scared of a forever type of ending with him, you would ignore it.

Steve is perfect. He is everything to you. He listens to you. Talks to you. He adores you.

And you adore him.

Which is why the yes slips through your lips before your mind even fully registers the question.

You would say yes to anything he asked of you.

Which is also why you say yes when Steve asks if you could do him a favor. He’s been so stressed out with planning everything for you, it’s only right you help him. He loves when you help destress him and you love that you get to repay him for everything he does for you.

So you sit on your knees, just as Steve’s taught you to do, as he stands in front of you, softly caressing your face. You watch as he unbuckles his belt, pulling his slacks down to reveal his hardening cock.

You take it in your hands, warm and throbbing, just as he’s taught you, moving it up and down as you add small kitten licks.

Once it’s wet enough, you kiss the tip, before wrapping your lips around him, sucking the sweet and tangy precum into your mouth, just as he’s taught you, Steve groaning heavily above you.

You remember to look up at him, trying to keep your eyes open as he looks down at you, he’s taught you that he likes it like that, likes watching you, as Steve slowly starts to thrust into your mouth, hands on the side of your head as he goes deeper and deeper down your throat.

The moans Steve let’s out send tingles down your spine, shock waves to course through your body. Steve is an Adonis of a man, a Greek god sculpted into perfection. He’s the most beautiful person you’ve ever laid eyes on, and you can’t believe you get such a reaction from him.

Trying to keep your eyes open as his thrusts grow deeper is hard, his hands move from your cheeks to the back of your head, tangling into your hair, pulling and pushing. Your eyes fill with tears, begging to roll down your cheeks as you gag on the girth of Steve’s cock.

“So good. Such a good girl for me.” Steve rasps out, his voice straining from the feel of your throat constricting around him as he fucks it. He knows he should slow down, not be so rough. Your delicate, an angel, someone that needs to be treated with care and love.

But Steve is pent up from not having you completely, he has to release it somehow before he blows up completely. That, with the knowledge that soon he will get all of you, own all of you, pushes him over the edge, making him fuck your face harder and faster, not caring when your gags get mixed with chocks, or when your tears spill over completely. Not caring that your hair that was done so nicely done for the night, is tangled in his fingers. Not caring when your hands are on his thighs, nails digging into his skin, as he forced your throat to take all of him, over and over.

“You’re mine, right baby? All mine.” He tells you, not stopping his assault as he feels himself get closer and closer to the edge, “Forever mine. Fucking mine.”

He comes down your throat with a growl and hard thrust, keeping your head pushed down on him as you try and swallow all of his cum around his cock. When he finally lets you up, he wipes your tears as you catch your breath. Kneeling down so he’s the same height as you.

Steve kisses your forehead, grabbing your hand with the beautiful diamond on it, softly caressing his thumb over it, “I’ll love you forever.” He promises, “I can’t wait until your Mrs.Rogers.”

And you believe him. You’ll always believe him.

Just like he’s taught you to do.

***********

TagList: @mansaaay @sofi1sstuff @sidechrisporn @namelesssav @spencerreidsthings @withasideofmeg @sidechrisporn @dontbescaredtosingalong @katiebby04 @emberenchanted @1-800-punch-a-pimp @siriusjohnpotter @evanswife1918 @jarofdirt04 @jaspearl31 @buckybarnesandmarvel @miiikkeey @wandalovesvision7 @kellhems @beenicejoy

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theartofwriting3 · 7 months

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I Remember Everything

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: Y/n ends up at the Garrison after a very hard few months and runs into an old friend *wink wonk*

Warnings: Swearing, smoking, drinking, mentions of child loss, Tommy being Tommy, Y/n being…well Y/n, brief mention of smut (nothing actually happens though), Country music

A/n: I said I would post this like…a week ago but I forgot I had some stuff going on and shit. And then I forgot this existed. Please excuse how shitty and kind of short it is, I kind of suck.

It wasn’t long before the pub started clearing out, Y/n halfway drowned in whiskey and her memories. She didn’t even realize who was pouring her drinks anymore, or that it wasn’t the original bartender that was pouring shot after shot of scotch in her whiskey glass for the last hour.

“Think you’ve had enough, eh?” The bartender said, reaching to grab her glass.

“I’ve had enough when I throw my money up here and walk out of this pub.” she looked up at him and immediately, her entire demeanor changed. “Fuck are you doing, eh? Bartending? What happened to the whole…”

“So you’re not drunk enough to not notice me…”

“Sadly, no.” Y/n shrugged, taking another sip of her drink. “Haven’t seen you since you left for the war.” Five years. He left for the war five long, miserable years ago. She never truly got over it, being left alone like that with the small chance of him coming back.

“Haven’t seen you since you left with the kid…didn’t expect to see you here alone anytime soon.” Thomas poured himself a glass, then poured her another.

“Neither did I…” She downed it without question as he lit a cigarette. He offered her a smoke, and she obliged, taking the first puff from it and blowing it out through her nose.

Again, another truth she didn’t want to admit. She never planned on coming back here. Having not heard from Thomas in so long, she thought he was dead. She resented this place, afraid of the memories it might have brought back for her. Afraid that she wouldn’t be able to let them go.

“You never answered my question? What happened with the whole business thing, running around here like a fucking gangster and all that?”

“Still do it, but I have to keep a few side gigs to seem less suspicious, eh?” He wasn’t wrong. He was clever, intelligent enough to actually try, add succeed covering up his tracks…most of the time, at least.

“So why are you here?” She didn’t want to answer that question, for she had been avoiding it since everything happened. “Somebody watching Willy?”

That was his nickname for William, Y/n’s son. Just the thought of his nickname brought back the memories of when Tommy would help her with him. How he would teach him things, take him places, all of that, just to give Y/n a little break. There were a few times William asked her if Tommy was his father. She told him no, because he wasn’t, but he would still slip and call him “dad” a few times.

She didn’t want to tell Tommy about what had happened, knowing it would probably hurt him too. Not as much as it had hurt her though.

“Y/n? Where’s Willy?”

She gave in.

“Dead, Thomas. He’s dead.” Her words were soft spoken, but in a mournful way. It hasn’t been two months since she woke up to her ill son cold in her arms, his heart stopped. She just wanted the memories of it to be gone already. Her reply made the man freeze, putting down his glass and looking at her, his eyes laced with worry.

“Why didn’t you come here sooner?”

“Thomas, no amount of fuckin money would have saved him, alright? No trip to this filth hole would have made him any better. What would be the fuckin point?”

“I could have helped-”

“He wasn’t your fucking son!”

“Yeah well I fucking felt like he was!” His sudden change in tone made her jump slightly, wishing she hadn’t yelled at him over the whole thing.

William was, however, like a son to Tommy. On multiple occasions, the boy would ask his mother “Can he be my father?” and she would never answer. She didn’t know what to say, her son wanting her good friend to be his dad, and the man already treating him like a son. She made sure to scold the boy when he would ask Tommy, only to have him laugh it off.

“Thomas…” she murmurs, and he reaches out and brushes his knuckles against hers.

“Don’t try saying sorry…because it’s fine.” At this point, they dropped the whole conversation about William, preventing further argument.

By the time she had finished another drink, he had caught up to her, just each other's presence bringing back the memories before the war. They weren’t bad, but they were something to drink over so you would forget about them. Forget about the whole reason the two weren’t being comfortable with each other like you used to.weren’t all happy and comfortable with each other like they used to be.

That wasn’t, however, the only good memory they tried to drown out, the two of them. Between raising her son together, there were things no amount of whiskey, scotch or Irish, could drown from the back of their memories.

The mix of their warm breaths and pants, the rustling of bed sheets in the dead of night. None of it was all that bad, but she had tried everything to forget the brush of his rough hands on her bare skin. He’d drank everything he could find for the longest time to try and forget the taste of her lips and the soft sound of his name when it slipped past them.

The silence between them was loud and irritating. One had hoped the other would speak, but nothing was said. That is, until Thomas spoke up.

“You know, I still remember it all.”

“All of what?” She pulled her hand away.

“That night before I left for the war…five years ago.” He trailed off, putting out the cigarette from earlier and lighting another. She sighed and pushed her glass away, running her hand through her hair.

“I try not to remember it…” She mumbled.

“Why is that?” A stupid question, really. A stupid, yet frequent question. She answered anyways.

“Never thought I would see you again…” It was part of the truth; with the way the war had gone, she never thought he would come out sane, let alone come back from the war at all. She never expected to see him ever again. The rest of the reason was that she didn’t think he would want her after the war. Hell, she didn’t think he wanted her at all, even as they lay together in his bed all those years ago.

Thomas had noticed she wasn’t saying the entire truth to the reason, and he sighed. “I thought of you…every single day I was out there. There wasn’t a single moment you didn’t cross my mind.”

Y/n felt her heart swell, a bit of hope in her eyes as he spoke. She felt her mind was at ease now, more at ease than the alcohol had made it.

“Every damn day I spent in that hell hole…you got me out of it.” He leaned against the bar, trying to get her to meet his gaze.

She drank some more, smiling softly- something she hadn’t done in a long time.

“There’s that smile…” Tommy murmured, the corners of his mouth turning up into a small smile as well.

“What?”

“You only smile like that when you’re drinking.”

“Oh, so you remember the night before you left, and how I smile when I’m the slightest bit drunk?” She teases, her smile turning to a smirk. He chuckles and shakes his head.

“I remember everything. Do you not?”

“I wish I didn’t, but I do. I remember it all.” Tommy passed her the cigarette, watching closely as she took a long drag from it. She leaned her head back and blew the smoke out through her nose. She passed it back to him and he took a smoke before stubbing it out.

At this point, they were multiple drinks in, reliving the stories of their past. Thomas just kept pouring and pouring, and they kept drinking and drinking. Until finally, the the bottle was empty, not a drop left. Tommy had offered to open another bottle, but she declined. She had got off the stool shakily, dizzy from the amount of alcohol she had. She then started to dig through her purse.

“Ah, keep the money. Don’t want you going broke already.” Tommy stopped her.

“It would be stupid of me not to pay you for something.”

Tommy just shook his head and came out from behind the bar. He lifted her chin with his finger and kissed her forehead gently. “You’ve payed me enough.”

With that, they both left the pub, Y/n stumbling with every step. They went their separate ways, once again. Y/n felt a weight on her chest, getting heavier with every step she took away from him. The same weight she ended up there to drink away. Her mind was racing with thoughts of if they’d ever see each other again, if they’d truly lost each other. She wanted to turn back and run to him. She wanted to. But she didn’t. She kept walking, and walking. The weight never left, nor did she think it would ever leave.

It never did

#thomas shelby #cillian murphy #tommy shelby x reader #cillianmurphyedit #peaky blinders #i’m sorry #not really

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romeulusroy · 1 year

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Good Mourning (Roman Roy Onesoht))

((SUCCESSION SPOILERS))

Character/s: Roman, Kendall, Shiv, Connor, Logan, Willa

Word Count: 1,621

Inspired By: I Bet On Losing Dogs by Mitski

Tag: @locke-writes

A/N: Last nights episode was such a hard watch, it brought back deeply painful memories and the only way I know how to cope is to write. Omg Roman the entire episode. Omg that fucking recording Frank or whoever brought up, laughing at it. I know it's only fictional, but still. Omg the ending with Kendall and the running away. Omg this episode, I will never recover. I wanna go back to when he was telling Matsson to fuck off. I know I can make this better so I will lol. Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

You’ve talked about death, about the forever-ness of it. You’ve talked about what you want arranged once you’re gone. He was always hesitant, afraid, as if speaking about it would make it happen sooner, faster. As if Death herself were listening and waiting to strike for the right moment when he let down his guard and forgot all about her. As if Death were like the people in his life: cruel. Parts of you have been scared of her. She takes and she never gives back. She leaves a hole in your chest where something should be. She’s made you scream and cry in the past, leaving this gut-wrenching emptiness inside of you. Parts of you have admired her. When she loves someone, she loves deeply, effortlessly, showing affection to those who have never deserved it in their lifetime. She takes all, never discriminating. She takes fully, everything that they are and everything that they become. Death is not something you wish to be scared of for the rest of your life. People try to outrun her by denying their age, their time well spent, but you? You know you will welcome every gray, every wrinkly, every line and deep groove. It is a privilege to be able to see yourself live. It is a privilege to get old. You hope you can do so by his side, hand in wrinkled hand.

Talking about it and coming face to face with it are two very different things, of course. You cannot take your eyes off it, the casket, heaving all the attention in the room. Inside is Logan Roy, the most powerful man you have ever met. The angriest man you have ever met. Gone. you knew there would be a crash. All his manic energy getting ready this morning, feeling on top of the world, pink cards in hand. You’d straightened his collar, smoothing his jacket, fearing the worst. You learned a long time ago that the Roy family burned as bright as the sun, hot and glowing, but they burned as bright as the sun, until there was nothing left of them. This morning he was the sun. He was confident, even joyous, but he was not feeling. He was not prepared for the reality of it all to smack him across the face as Logan used to do. There was nothing you could do to protect him from this, from them. This was not the funeral of a devoted, loving father, but of a monster. All his minions came to watch, to see if it was real. Was their leader really gone? It was a spectacle, another place of meeting. You were behind Kendall when Hugo started talking to him about Gojo. you shouldn’t have been as surprised as you were, though you would have thought they would have had a little more class. The whole way up the steps and through the church your hand remained in his, squeezing it ever so lightly when his rose colored glasses began to slip. You don’t know if he even notices, busy directing friends and business partners and even his cousin, who is not at all disturbed by his own behavior. Mencken gives you a hug that makes your skin crawl, but you do not object. This day is not about you, about any of you, rather it is about them and their grief.

You watch the pink cards shake in his palm. It's too late to stop him, to drag him back with you, to shield him from Death and her icy grip. What you wouldn’t give to go back, turn back the clocks, save him from himself. Ewan is finally finished, so he stands, shuffling towards the podium. You have given up on God a long time ago. You and Him, you never got along. But you pray to him in this moment, you pray that your love will get through this in one piece, that for once He will be kind to him. You pray and you hold your breath as you do, watching his hands begin to shake. His voice catches in his throat, tears welling up in his eyes. Fuck, you begin to think. Not today, please not today, not now, not him. Anyone else but him. Kendall, Shiv, Connor, they stand. You want to run to him, to hold him, but Willa grabs your hand. She can see what you’re thinking. She can see how dangerous it would look. What would they say if you came running to his rescue? He would be ruined. You can hear him, his head bowed: I can’t, I can’t do this. He is crying now, panting, motioning at the coffin. Willas grip tightens. You want to scream. Tears begin to fall down your face. Not for that bastard, the man who hurt him so many times he began to think that’s what love is. No, for Roman. For all the versions of him before you. The scared little boy attending his fathers funeral. For the wounded puppy that just wants him back. For the abused man that you love, that you cherish, the grief he’s been putting off finally settling in. He finds his way back to you, to the pew, shaking. Finally, she lets go, your arms finding their way around him, his head falling on your shoulder. You take one look back behind you, towards Logan's minions, and they are smiling. You shush him, his cries, wiping his cheek with your hand. It’s okay Rome, it’s okay, you say over and over again. To him, to yourself. It’s okay, no one will hurt you again, though you know you cannot make that kind of grand promise. You know it’s already too late.

Neither of you stay long. It is Kendall who thanks everyone for coming, shaking hands, giving hugs, until he too is tired of the charade. All the way there he sniffles beside you, his eyes red, his cheeks flushed. You want to stop the car, stop everything, give him all the time and room to cry as he needs, but you know better. This world is not made to accommodate. This life is not one you are free to express even at the loss of a parent. They expect you to be normal, not to inconvenience them with your grief, not to show it. You hold him, keeping him close, feeling his racing heartbeat. You couldn’t have protected him from this. There was no way. Not from the funeral, not from the “burial” , not from Death herself. How you wished you could wrap him up in a cocoon and save him from all the heartache. Instead the car stops in front of the mausoleum. It is giant and lacking life. Sterile. Monstrous. Roman does not go in like his siblings, instead lingering on the outside. You and Willa stand off to the side, understanding your place in all this. No one notices this, but you. The way he stands, hands in his pockets, hunched, as if he wants to curl into a ball. As if he wants to disappear. When they bring the coffin up, his leg begins to shake, then his whole body. Finally he stands, talking to himself, not waiting for it to be over, racing to the car. You know better than to follow. He needs his alone time, he needs the tinted windows, he needs to do what he needs to get through this. You hope against hope that he isn’t spiraling, heading towards self-destruction. He never learned that it wasn’t his fault. Everything, everything was because he messed up, because he did or said something, because he was a fuck up. Logan taught him this and you, very slowly, very patiently, were trying to get him to unlearn it. All of it.

The reception is packed. Too many people, too many bodies, they put an ocean between you and him. Roman struggles to meet your eyes. He’s back to himself, kind of, recovered in the eyes of the public. Only you can see him struggling, only you can see the mask slipping. He leaves you to get a drink, mingle, following his brother obediently. You want to remind him that grief is an all encompassing thing. It is unpredictable and powerful and it’s okay. But he won’t listen, shaking off any comforts. He wants to be uncomfortable, he wants to be in pain, it's the only thing he knows. The only thing he can love at this moment. You shouldn’t be hurt by it, but you are. He thinks he should be more like Logan, but you believe the opposite. You love him as he is, not for who he should become. You watch him carefully, understanding he does not want you near, unable to let him go. You talk to no one, you can’t even stand to look at them. The way they smiled, mocking him in his time of grief, as if the loss of father from son is to be taken lightly. You only take your eyes off him for a moment, but he is gone. You go to Kendall, panicked, but all he can say is he left. You’re running after him, calling his name, but he is too quick. Beyond the barriers he jumps into the crowd. Someone punches him, over and over, and you cannot help but scream. He keeps moving though, keeps instigating fights. You try to call him, but he does not listen. That same, scared little boy is running towards what he’s always known: suffering.

You’re not sure what to do, how to help. You’re not sure you can help. He's made his decision. It has always been too late.

#writing #roman roy #roman roy imagine #roman roy x reader #succession #succession imagine #succession x reader #succession spoilers

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softrozene · 1 year

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Arthur Turns into a Parent

Anon asked: Howdy:)! I'm loving your blog so far, as new as it is. I was wondering if you could write HC's on a new addition to camp who's a kid--maybe around 11 or 12 and she always follows around Arthur cos he saved her or something, and all the gang members tease him about it, but she evntially grows on him and sticks with him to the very end :'( Idk, hopefully something fluffy and father daughter sort of thing:) Only if you're okay with it!!

rdr2 masterlist

This is my type of thing. We love a wholesome father figure Arthur in this house! Thanks for the request Lovely!

Originally published on January 28, 2020

(Father-Daughter relationship) Arthur Morgan x Kid!reader

Warnings: Fluff, spoilers?

Words: ~700

Arthur would be so angry that you chose him, out of the damn people here at camp, to follow around

He would be very annoyed, all huffy puffy, but wouldn’t say a dang word about it

The annoyance is obvious especially if Hosea or Dutch tease him about it, but he keeps his lips tight with them

If it’s another member making fun of him he will tell them to “Shut up”

Despite his behavior, he never ever tells you to go away

Give it a few days and he’ll cave in

He’ll turn into the mama bear he’s meant to be eventually

Since you are technically glued to him, he has to promise to come back a few times in order for you to stay with Abigail or someone else, while he goes on a mission

Eventually, he’ll embrace the father role that you had forced upon him (thanks to Hosea and Dutch probably)

He’ll teach you everything he knows

If you’re his daughter now he wants you to be able to protect yourself

He doesn’t want you to end up like his baby mama Eliza and his son Isaac

Eventually, you’ll be like Jack and call everyone Uncle or Auntie

The second you call Arthur Daddy or Papa his heart will literally melt

He’ll finally see this as the second chance he doesn’t deserve but will embrace it

Arthur probably has a sixth sense so if Micah comes near you, you bet Arthur will be there making sure that Micah will not interact with you

He ain’t afraid to shoot him if he tries to talk to you

If you ever see Mary and become mean or jealous of her, Arthur will think it’s the cutest thing in the world

Mary will be slightly upset wishing that she was your mother after seeing how loving Arthur is towards you

Get out of here mary

When he realizes he has TB you are the only one he will tell because he doesn’t want you to be devastated when it’s too late

He might try to distance himself but if it hurts you more he would stop immediately

You would be entrusted to John and Abigail and when the time comes you don’t put up a fight- You don’t want to break his heart more and he definitely doesn’t want to see you witness his death

You’ll stay as long as you can but he’ll make you leave with Abigail when she leaves with Sadie

Jack calls you his big sister

John may have Arthur’s stuff but when the time comes you’ll get the notebook

You’ll probably join John, Charles, and Sadie to get revenge for Arthur (since 8 years pass reader would be 19/20) so Abigail can’t control you lmao

Small Bonus Scenario:

“Hey Kid, wake up,” Arthur’s voice is surprisingly gentle as he shakes you gently.

Your eyes open real wide and you are breathing with panic. Upon seeing Arthur’s face you feel better immediately. You hug him.

“I know, Kid. It was just a dream. You’re safe now. See? You’re home with us,” Arthur says murmuring these lines of comfort for you.

He holds you gently for a bit before he pulls away. “You good now?”

You shake your head and he smiles, “See. Nothing is ever gonna hurt you again. Not that you have me and all of us to protect you. Uncle Charles and Javier wish to train you tomorrow if you’d like.”

Seeing your eyes light up like that makes him chuckle. Despite not being his real flesh and blood, you sure are his daughter with that behavior and enthusiasm for wanting to learn this type of thing.

“Sadie wants to take ya shopping too. Said you’d been bothering her for pants,” Arthur says softly.

You nod your head eagerly and he laughs. “Fine. Fine. Probably suit you better than those dresses. She’s gonna be proud that you’re taking her new style. Anyway- Go back to sleep. I’m here to protect ya now.”

“Will you stay until I fall asleep?” You ask softly immediately clutching his hand.

He huffs just slightly before saying, “Sure, Kid.”

#softrozene writes #rdr2 x reader #arthur morgan #female reader #pure fluff #smidge of angst

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idontknowreallywhy · 6 months

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Estera Ch 5 - Lesson

(Prologue, Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4)

Have I finally got them out of the cave?

Will there be drama when they get to the surface?

Only one way to find out :)

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“Et tu, Brute?!”

“Then fall, Caesar” Estera muttered as a reflex. It always drove her crazy when the line was unfinished.

“Liberty! Freedom! Tyranny is dead!”

Her head snapped up in surprise to see him grinning. Well! She hadn’t expected him to actually know it. Laughing, she gestured behind him.

“If I promise not to stab you, can I have a quick look? I am a qualified first aider, maybe I can help?”

He backed into the wall.

“Honestly, it’s fine, just a little scratch and a bruise I can get it sorted when we are out.”

“It would be a good opportunity to demonstrate some of the lessons the children have learned in class? And it would keep their minds off other things.”

Right on cue, Sam appeared at her side with an eager expression and the smaller, more portable first aid kit she’d stowed in her rucksack just in case. If only she’d brought the large one.

“Oh wow that’s a big kit… you like to be prepared huh?”

She snorted derisively and beckoned him forward. There was a pause. She raised an eyebrow and waited.

His shoulders sagged and he walked towards her with a wry smile and a whispered “I am never going to live this down.”

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Having checked there were definitely no hitherto hidden exits he could take advantage of, he reluctantly sat down where she indicated and allowed her to step behind him, hoping it she wouldn’t pass out again. The rock had clearly nicked a couple of enthusiastic vessels because the sticky sensation had crept all the way down to the small of his back and it probably looked way more dramatic than it was. He plastered on a reassuring smile for the kids but none were looking at him because they were all crowded around a large bottle of hand sanitiser. Wait, what? Little Alex had a gleam in his eye as he scrubbed up to the elbows like a surgeon preparing for a transplant.

The smile became a little fixed. He wasn’t sure he had consented to a team approach.

The teacher was explaining something and had their rapt attention. He let himself be carried along by her voice too, it had a musical quality to it that was soothing. Lucky that, for someone who worked with little kids. He drifted a little then jumped as her face appeared over his left shoulder and he suddenly realised she’d been talking directly to him.

“Can I cut your suit? It’s got a little mangled.”

“No.”

“Oh. It’s already quite damaged I’m afraid…”

He shook himself.

“Sorry, I mean you won’t be able to… Here, use this.” He palmed the micro laser cutter from his baldric. “Um… maybe don’t give that to the kids.”

He winced as he felt the air on his back. Fortunately it was only the one pair of hands that proceeded to clean the wound, the small ones had paired off and were enthusiastically swabbing each other instead. Her hands were cooler than Virgil’s, but had a similar level of confidence… He forced himself to relax.

Suddenly, the eager mini-medics all crowded round, watching intently. Then retreated like a wave and started covering each other in steri strips.

“Right, should we use warm or cold for bruising, everyone?”

“COOOOOOLD” came the unanimous reply.

She reappeared over his shoulder, accompanied by the cracking of instant cold packs. “I’m going pop a couple of these over your ribs then tape your suit up to hold them in place. I think it would be best to put your arm in a sling to reduce the chance of you pulling the shoulder wound open again.”

For the sake of being a good example to the children he agreed. That was the only reason. Nothing to do with the power of the teacher voice. He sighed… “Yes, Miss”.

A little hand slipped into his and he looked down at Alex who was looking back at him earnestly.

“It’s ok for rescuers to need rescuing sometimes isn’t it, Mr Scott?”

He was saved from finding an appropriate response by his brother breaking through the wall.

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There had been a LOT of hugging and relieved tears. The rescuer who introduced himself as Virgil had finally gathered the parents to give them some quick advice on symptoms of dust inhalation and when they should seek assistance. Meanwhile the blue-eyed one, Scott that was it, was left-handedly signing the kids’ tattered worksheets and distributing tiny die-cast thunderbird models to many squeals of delight. She chuckled to herself as Alex excitedly snatched a model of the red rocket ship before reconsidering and replacing it with the silver and blue one, gazing adoringly at his new favourite-person-in-the-whole-world.

With any luck, much of the trauma of the situation the children had experienced would be overshadowed by the wonder of meeting their heroes. As she watched the injured man pulling funny faces and offering high fives she realised that was entirely deliberate on their part.

She really should find out more about them. The kids, apparently, had encyclopaedic knowledge and it would be best if she could keep up with what was going to be the primary topic of conversation for the foreseeable. They might not forgive her ignorance as quickly as with the plesiosaurs.

It wasn’t that she had deliberately ignored the Thunderbirds’ existence, hard to do that when they were all over the press (and she had to keep confiscating the trading cards until the end of the school day). Scott certainly seemed a bit familiar so she must have seen a press conference or something at some stage. But, well, she’d generally tried to shield herself a little from constant news of disaster and destruction that she could do little to fix. She threw herself into small scale things. She tried not to get overwhelmed by a world determined to drown her in that same sense of helplessness she’d battled against as her country collapsed around her, as she’d stared into the horrified eyes of a soul who knew he was about to die...

Ahhhh, she shook herself, that was the third time today he’d slipped through her defences. She really had to practice her exercises more. Screwing up her face then relaxing it into a pleasant smile she began to approach the group of parents who were beginning to disperse after their medical debriefing.

And got hijacked by two EMTs keen to ask her about her fainting fit in the cave. One of the children must have tattled on her.

She smiled politely, assured them confidently that she had no head injury but suffered from mild claustrophobia and that plus the shock of everything was probably all it was. Feeling it would be hypocritical to refuse, she allowed them to check her vitals and make some notes while she finally looked up and took in the bizarre scene around her. Her eyes drifted past the gleaming silver rocket towards the huge green cargo ship she’d heard so much about. Plenty of room for pockets indeed… she stifled a laugh and her gaze settled on the two international rescue operatives sat on the side of the ramp leading into the ship. The second man had seemed nice, if somewhat harried and oddly concerned about his colleague.

Beyond the temporary floodlights the sun was beginning to set, the sky was clear and the early stars were visible. She was struck by how close she had come to not seeing them again and felt a wave of gratitude for the second chance.

Third, actually.

She looked up the stars and wished she could have thanked the person who’d given her the second.

And then gasped, she had nearly done it again! They were about to leave and she hadn’t actually managed to find the time to express her thanks. She extricated herself from the attentions of the EMTs and hurried over to the two men in blue, running through a few potential phrases in her mind. They’d probably heard it all before.

“Excuse me, I’m sorry to bother you again”

Scott half looked up from where he was perched on a boulder and smiled distractedly while his colleague fussed over him with a medi-scanner. Without his helmet on he looked older than she was expecting, maybe early 40s, a hint of grey shot through the chestnut at his temples and the shadows under his eyes and cheekbones made her wonder just how many “long days” the guy had experienced recently. There was a deep sense of tiredness about him.

“I didn’t want to let you go without properly thanking you for all your help down there” she unthinkingly stuck out her right hand, realising too slowly that he wasn’t going to be able to take it.

Before she could withdraw it he’d reached out with his left hand, twisted his wrist to grasp her right and shook it awkwardly.

“Well thank you for patching me up, you left this little guy with not a lot to do.”

There was a huff behind him prompting another grin which this time reached his eyes as he looked up at her. Blue… vivid, unmistakable blue, sparkled with amusement and a spike of adrenaline hit her like a train.

It was him.

He was still holding her hand but hers was numb and she couldn’t feel it. The ground she was standing on tilted suddenly and she tried to hold on tighter to steady herself but her muscles wouldn’t respond

And she was going to fall.

And she heard him scream.

But he was still smiling and hadn’t noticed the world was collapsing. His eyes held a question.

“Thank you for rescuing me” her voice cracked

“Again.”

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“Virgil, please, it’s alright. Look it’s just a bit of bruising and a few cuts which you’ll note are already expertly dressed.”

His brother scowled at the scanner which, for once, was backing up Scott’s assertion that he was fine.

Virgil’s litany of grumbling was interrupted by the reappearance of the teacher.

She was younger than he’d thought, probably early 30s, and he was amused to see that amongst the dusty strands of dark brown hair that had fallen from the practical knot at the back of her neck was a lock of bright blue. A little rebellious streak perhaps?

He gave her a tiny wink along with the backwards handshake and wondered how hard Virgil would kick him if he asked for her number.

The blood drained from her face as their eyes met. Huh, not the usual reaction to his attempts to flirt, he noted wryly, maybe he was losing his touch.

Wait, what did she mean “Again”? He frowned in confusion. When had they…?

The sense of unease rushed back into his bones and brought all of its howling friends.

The smell of rust, the taste of blood, a decade of phantoms.

Without conscious thought he was on his feet and had dragged his arm from the sling to grab her by the shoulders as he studied her face… it couldn’t be…

She visibly flinched but lifted her chin to hold his gaze.

Realising his mistake he hurriedly released her and tried to find words, any words… but none would come. His lips moved soundlessly as he stared. It couldn’t be, could it?

“Miss Hermaszewska, mummy says have you got my inhaler?”

She blinked and turned to follow the child who tugged at her sleeve.

Virgil had him by the good arm and was leading him back towards the ships, his concerned voice rumbling questions Scott couldn’t focus on right now. He tried to follow her and his brother’s grip tightened, restraining him. Fury and panic raged through his veins. He snarled and shook the unrelenting hands off violently, spinning to face the aggressor before the shocked face of his brother snapped him back to the present and his heart plummeted.

He ran for his ship and One was in the air before the seat had fully retracted.

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#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #virgil tracy #idontknowreallywhy fanfic #estera #TB Estera

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strawberrybyers · 2 years

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thinking about these narrative decisions:

- mike lying to el saying his grandma is sick and that’s why he can’t hang out, el breaking up with mike, mike thinking he didn’t do anything wrong as if he wasn’t the one lying to el and not rushing to go apologize to her vs mike being distant from will because he’s busy focusing on el, will and mike arguing, and mike immediately going to go apologize to will and admitting he was being an asshole

- mike looking weirded out and confused when el kisses him goodbye and tells him she loves him (even though they had no problem kissing all season and mike said he loved her at hopper’s cabin and tried to tell her at the grocery store)

- mike looking back at will’s house then the scene goes to will crying then back to mike at home embracing his mom and all of this is happening while hopper is saying i feel distant from you, i’m afraid of change and i don’t want things to change, and wanting to turn back the clock

- mike reading a letter from el that mentions will might like a girl because he’s been acting weird and might be painting something for the girl but she hasn’t seen the painting

- mike not giving a proper hug to will at the airport

- mike immediately asking “what’s that?” in reference to the painting and will telling him it’s a painting he’s been working on only for mike to say “cool” and stare at him in return and then flinch when argyle speaks (mike flinching to argyle saying something implies he was in deep thought about something and i’m going to take a wild guess and say he was thinking “why 😠 would 😠 will 😠 bring 😠 the 😠 painting 😠 he 😠 made 😠 for 😠 some 😠 stupid 😠 girl 😠 he 😠 likes 😠 to 😠 see 😠 me 😠 when 😠 we 😠 haven’t 😠 seen 😠 each 😠 other 😠 in 😠 MONTHS??? 😡”)

- mike and will having an argument at rink-o-mania where mike claims will sabotaged the entire day despite the fact el just got humiliated by her bullies which is what actually sabotaged the entire day. the argument then continues with dialogue such as “well, what about us?”, “meanwhile, el has like a book of letters from you”, “that’s because she’s my girlfriend, will”, “and us?”, “we’re friends. we’re friends.”

- mike not being able to tell el he loves her and getting defensive blaming “mouth breathers” and claiming she sounds ridiculous even though he KNOWS he hasn’t been writing or saying “i love you”

- mike not telling will what him and el were arguing about

- mike going to will to apologize and admitting he was being a self-pitying idiot, “i didn’t say it” “you didn’t have to”, admits that hawkins isn’t the same without will and feels like he lost him, then proceeds to tell will he wants them to work as a team and best friends

- mike doing a triple-take look at will while will is also staring at him

- mike agreeing with will when will says “what if they don’t like the truth?” (if mike loves el romantically then why would he agree with this? el wants him to love her so if he explained himself like he said wanted to, then she would like that truth. so what would he tell her that would be true that maybe she wouldn’t like? also this is the 2nd time he’s brought up the argument with el and still won’t tell will what it was about)

- mike describing meeting el as “simple dumb luck”

- the van scene script including a line that says something about mike noticing el doesn’t need him anymore

- el drawing the two stick figures over byler and one stick figure over herself

- mike mentioned to dustin how el saved the world twice, tells el she’s a superhero in their argument, compares el to superman, and in his love confession he calls her a superhero. all the meanwhile, el’s storyline is about her developing autonomy and becoming more than just someone that has superpowers

- mike telling el he loves her after he hears will’s feelings disguised as el’s which makes mike feel secure and loved because how will loves him is how he wants to be loved. the only problem is that those are NOT el’s actual feelings. he made a love confession and feels loved not from el’s love, but from will’s love

- the parallel where we see that el is able to defeat vecna when her mom tells her “i love you” vs el losing against vecna when mike tells her “i love you”

- mike and will standing next to each other in the final scene with the two other couples

i mean the duffers are clearly showing the breakdown of mikeven and the buildup of byler. and what really drives all of it home is that mike believes will’s feelings are el’s and that the painting was el’s idea!! none of that is true though!! and one of the themes of this show is “friends don’t lie”, so the show can’t end with mikeven being endgame when their relationship is based on a lie. what kind of endgame couple would that be if mike believes el feels that way about him when she never said any of those things? like will was the one helping to fix their relationship. all mike did was seem like he wanted to breakup with el and once they reunited you got the same vibes that maybe el wanted to breakup too.

#you can’t look at all of this and think mikeven is endgame 💀#that ship is sinking so fast #almost every bullet point starts with mike but he’s truly the one who is showing all the signs of byler endgame like 😭#byler #will byers #mike wheeler #stranger things

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dyns33 · 2 years

Text

Flufftober 28 - The Batman

Bruce Wayne x Reader

"Nice costume."

Bruce tried not to jump. Batman didn't jump, never, he wasn't afraid of anything, he embodied fear.

But he hadn't heard the young woman approaching him. He reassured himself, by telling himself that it was because he had known instinctively that she was not a danger.

In reality, he hadn't slept for three days, the fatigue becoming more and more difficult to manage, with the pain, and if he was still standing, it was only because he was thinking about his mission.

Because he was stubborn, Alfred would have said.

Turning slowly, Bruce faced the woman. She smiled at him, as if everything was perfectly normal.

And maybe tonight, Halloween night, it was normal to come across a man dressed as a giant bat, wandering through the dark alleys of the city. It seemed less normal to find an innocent citizen in such a place.

"You shouldn't be here."

"Oh, you're using a big voice too, you're really in character !"

"I am not a character."

"Of course. You are The Batman. Excuse me, but I think the real Batman has better things to do than hide in a corner. He would be on a roof, or near a place where a crime could have taken place."

"There can be crimes absolutely anywhere."

"Hmm." she said with a small pout, shaking her head. "I imagine that's true, especially in Gotham."

"Go home."

"I do what I want, dear sir."

They remained motionless, watching each other, waiting to see what the other was going to do. Bruce could have just left. With his grappling hook, it would have been very easy, he would have disappeared in a few seconds and she wouldn't have been able to follow him.

But he was tired. He had stopped in this alley to rest for a moment, catch his breath, before resuming his surveillance.

Besides, he didn't want to leave her here alone. It wasn't safe.

He would have preferred to accompany her to her home first, or at least to a place where she wouldn't risk anything. It was part of his mission.

"The real Batman is taller." she said out of nowhere.

"... Sorry ?"

"He saved a friend of mine once. She was a bit scared of him, but he helped her up, gave her bag and left. Without saying a word. She described him as very tall, muscular. Impressive. You're not tall enough, and you're talkative."

"I don't think I'm that talkative." he replied, unable to stop himself from slightly smiling.

"And you're smiling. No, really, you don't make a very convincing Batman. But... Let's say you're the real one. Then I'd like to thank you. For saving her, and for everything else you do."

This time, Bruce said nothing. No one had to thank him for what he was doing. He was doing it because it was necessary and he didn't expect anything in return, only hoping that it would make the city a little better.

It was the only thing that mattered to him, nothing more.

Lost in his thoughts, and obviously really exhausted, he didn't notice that she had approached him. By reflex, he grabbed her hand when she wanted to touch his face, but without hurting her.

"When was the last time you slept ?" she whispered.

"I don't have time to sleep."

"You... You must feel a little lonely sometimes."

"That's not important."

The young woman pouted again, and without giving him time to react, she quickly kissed him on the cheek.

Bruce pulled away, as if she had just slapped him. He couldn't remember the last time someone had kissed him like that. Probably his mother, a very long time ago. It was a strange feeling, he wasn't sure if he liked it or not.

As if she knew what he was thinking, the girl smiled, laughing lightly, but not mocking him.

"Whether you're the real Batman or not, you should go to sleep."

"I'll think about it. You should go home."

"I will think about it."

"It's really not safe here. I can walk you."

"Alright, little fake Batman. I don't live far." she said, rolling her eyes.

"You shouldn't tell strangers where you live. Especially if they're dressed like me. Besides, you're not disguised ?"

"But I am. I'm a serial killer, they look like everyone else. I lure little fake Batmen into my house and force them to sleep a bit."

His paranoid side, mixed with the fatigue, made Bruce wonder if she wasn't being a bit serious. She snickered again, scoffing a little this time.

"By the way, my name is Y/N. And I live there."

She pointed to a third-floor apartment, which he scanned with his optical lens. He would check later if a Y/N lived here, but now he had to leave. He had enough rest, he still had a lot of work to do.

"You are going to sleep ?"

"No."

"I thought so. You... Will I see you again ?"

Almost at the end of the street, Bruce stopped. He didn't really turn back, but he glanced in her direction.

"... Perhaps."

"See you then, Mister Bat. Happy Halloween."

When he arrived at his place, Alfred noted that he seemed less gloomy than usual, as well as less hurt. Bruce said nothing about it, touching his cheek as he thought of the kiss, before falling into bed, where he dreamed of dark alleys, rain, and Y/N.

#the batman #the batman 2022 #batman #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne fanfiction #flufftober 2022

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hiraeth-witch-11 · 1 year

Text

The Greed of Men Part 5

Warnings: canon typical shit, Katya being a feisty little shit

Word count: 1600ish

The next morning you are shown to your rooms. They aren’t as opulent as Alina’s, but you prefer them this way. The bed is still too soft, the sheets too smooth, the pillows too plump, but you force yourself to use them anyway. The wardrobe is stocked with functional clothing and 2 black coats that feel suspiciously like corecloth. You’d like to complain about the color, or at least about the assumption in making most of your clothing black, but it really does suit you, so you hold your tongue.

The next few days are relatively monotonous. Alina trains and you follow her around as often as you can. Usually watching from a distance so she doesn’t feel you hovering. She knows you’re there, though, and will wave when she catches your eye. The change in her hasn’t ceased to amaze you. It’s been so long since she seemed truly healthy and now, all of the sudden, she’s grown and strong and powerful in ways you had only ever been able to dream of for her.

Alina’s confidence is yet another thing you are happy to see improve. She is more sure of herself, of her place in the world, more comfortable in her own skin. You’ll never admit it, but you are grateful to the Darkling for keeping her safe and helping her grow. Arguably much of that change has come from Botkin and Baghra, but you catch the General checking in on her every now and then. Offering words of support, constructive criticism, and even praise.

You still think he should at the very least be stabbed for this flirtation he has with your sister. She’s far too young for him. For now, you have decided to let the fragile peace remain between the 3 of you. You’ll save the stabbing for another day. So long as he keeps his hands to himself, you will allow him to keep his hands.

Today, you are observing Alina spar with a particularly skilled squaller, one you’ve noticed scowling in Alina’s direction frequently. You’re nearby this time, making small conversation with Botkin.

“Do you fight?”

“Often,” you reply with a grin. He gestures to the training field and you shake your head. “I couldn’t impose on you like that.”

“You are afraid.” Botkin states and you have the feeling he’s mocking you.

“It wouldn’t be fair for your students.”

“You would deny them the chance to learn?”

You watch the squaller knock your sister on her ass for the 3rd time today and shrug. “When you put it that way, I guess I have to do it now.”

“Who do you choose?”

“Who’s your best?”

“Zoya.” The squaller sparring with Alina looks up at his words.

“Perfect,” you say sincerely.

The two of you enter the circle drawn in the dirt.

“Kick her ass, Kat,” Alina says in your ear as you pass her. You smirk. This should be fun. Saints know you need some stress relief.

“I do have a few years on you, squaller. I’ll go easy on you.” You can’t resist the urge to taunt Zoya.

“From what I’ve heard, you’re a no-name street rat. I don’t expect it to be much of a fight.”

You smile thinly, but you aren’t bothered by her words, and strike first. It’s more of a warning shot than anything, you are unsurprised when she dodges it. Zoya swings a fist towards your jaw and you block it with your left forearm, throwing a punch with your right fist. This one lands and she grimaces, recovering quickly, stepping closer to you and hooking a leg around your own in an attempt to throw you. You let her, but use the momentum of the move to continue rolling the two of you until you land atop her, hand resting on her throat.

“Good match,” you offer your hand out once the two of you are standing.

Zoya ignores it and hisses,” Beginner’s luck.”

“If you wanted a rematch, you only had to ask,” you quip with a shrug.

“Ms. Starkov,” The General calls from Botkin’s side. You and Alina both look towards him. “The elder Ms. Starkov.”

“Saved by your General, princess. Next time I won’t go so easy on you.” The look Zoya gives you might be strong enough to kill a lesser woman.

You join the General and ask, “What do you need? Sir.” You add the ‘sir’ for the sake of appearances and because you know the Darkling will hear its sarcasm.

“Come take a walk with me, Ms. Starkov.”

You wait until the 2 of you are a safe distance away to begin your usual banter. “Are we going to have another one of our ‘chats’ where you ‘don’t’ try to kill me?”

“Baghra is aware of your ability,” the Darkling said, ignoring you.

“You mean you told her,” you say pointedly.

“Yes. She would like to meet you.”

“Oh, excellent,” you say with glee.

The Darkling turns to you with a raised eyebrow. “That is not the reaction I was expecting.”

“I heard she hits students with her cane, swarms them with bees, and other various tortures. I can’t wait to see what she tries with me.” There’s a skip in your step as you turn yourself around so you walk backwards as you speak with the General. “When does she want to meet me?”

“Now,” the Darkling says.

“Today is turning out great!” You exclaim, clapping your hands. “Oh come on, why are you looking at me like that? I like fucking with bullies. It’s one of my favorite, mostly legal, pastimes.”

“I look forward to hearing how it goes, Ms. Starkov,” he says and you swear he’s trying not to smile.

“You aren’t coming with?” You ask as you arrive by Baghra’s hut.

“Your… conversation with Baghra will likely be more productive without my presence. She and I do not see eye to eye on most things.”

“Really? You don’t get along with someone? That’s super surprising.”

“Very amusing, Ms. Starkov,” the General says dryly.

“I try,” you grin and give him a wink before stepping into the hut and closing the door behind you.

The woman in front of you is both ancient and ageless. Her skin is mostly smooth, but her hair is graying, and her eyes have a depth to them that only time can give.

“Have a seat, girl.”

“You wanted to talk with me,” you prompt as you sit across from her.

“Have some tea,” Baghra orders more than offers.

“I’m good, thanks.”

“Hm. So you are the woman who claims to be the Sun Summoner’s sister. I must admit, I fail to see the resemblance.”

“We aren’t related by blood, but we are family.”

“I see. You’ve known her for 10 or so years now, and you’ve never told her about your summoning. It sounds like you don’t trust her very much, for family.”

“So this is your angle then?” You roll your eyes. “Trying to drive a wedge between me and Alina, getting into my head. Very original. Do you have any family, Baghra?”

“This conversation is not about me, girl.”

“My name is Katarina, not girl, and this conversation is very much about you. What is it about you that is so broken you want to break everyone else?”

“How dare you?” Baghra spits out sternly.

“Quite easily. If this little chat doesn’t have a real purpose, then I am going to leave.”

Baghra’s posture relaxes slightly. “You aren’t what I expected.”

“Good.”

“The General tells me you are an adequate shadow summoner.”

“Does he really? High praise coming from him.”

“He also tells me you claim to be self taught.”

“I am self taught, unless you know any other shadow summoners besides the Darkling running around Ravka, I didn’t really have any other option.”

“You taught yourself the Cut.”

“Yes.”

“Shadow-walking?”

“Yes.”

“Simultaneous, multi-limbed movement?”

“Yes.”

“Shields, walls, and barriers?”

“I’m still working on those,” you admit.

“Intriguing. I will teach you from now on.”

“No you won’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t like you and I think you are a duplicitous snake,” you respond cheerfully. While Alina may not have picked up on the depths of Baghra’s manipulative nature, you can tell this woman has about a thousand personal agendas just by looking at her. Much like the General, though you find Baghra to be more off putting.

“You don’t know me, girl.”

“I trust my instincts.”

“Do you truly believe the Darkling to be a superior instructor? That he does not have any ulterior motives for everything he says and does?”

“Oh I’m certain he does.”

“Very well. I will not force you to stay.”

“Good, I don’t do very well with being forced into things.” With that, you get up and leave. You’re surprised to see the General still waiting for you on the other side of the door.

“You’re still here.”

“That was quicker than I expected.”

“Were you expecting me to drink the drugged tea?”

The Darkling looks surprised. “I was not aware you knew about her tea drugging habits.”

“Alina told me. Don’t you think allowing her to beat, terrorize, and drug your soldiers is a bit much?”

“I admit some of her methods may be extreme at times, but they are effective.”

“If you have to harm a child to teach them, then maybe you aren’t a good teacher.”

“The world my Grisha grow up in is not good or fair, Ms. Starkov. They are in danger from the moment their abilities manifest. Sometimes cruel and extreme measures are needed to prepare them for that reality.”

“It shouldn’t be that way. Grishenka are training to be soldiers from the moment they arrive. No one should have to be concerned about war that young.”

“No, they shouldn’t,” the Darkling agrees, solemnly. “One day, Grisha will no longer need to fear the world around them. They will no longer live to be soldiers.”

“I hope I live to see that day,” you say earnestly.

“You will, Ms. Starkov.”

**********

If you want to be put on, or taken off my taglist, feel free to tell me!

Series Taglist: budugu, stuffyownswrld, judig92, intothesoul

Shadow and Bone Taglist:

Everything Taglist: @kayhi808,

#darkling x reader #alina starkov & reader #alina starkov & sister!reader #shadow and bone #slow burn #angst #aleksander morozova x reader

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fruitcoops · 2 years

Note

Hi!! I was reading that fix you wrote where Remuz was having a panic attack in the hospital. There was a part when he was remembering when his parents would calm him down when he was in the hospital with his shoulder, and I was wondering if maybe you could write a full version of that - when Remus was in the hospital and afraid, and sad, and in pain and his parents helping him through it.

Just a thought, love your work! ❤❤

Fic O'Ween Day 6: Nightmare. Honestly this is a big ol' cathartic whumpfest, ft. my endless love for Hope Lupin. Characters belong to @lumosinlove <3

TW for description of injury, trauma, hospitals, crying

The faint sound of plastic wheels on linoleum rattled through the door. There was the squeaky, bubbling laugh that only a five-year-old could muster; the wheels rattled again, returning from the end of their path to the timbre of a gentle voice. The lights inside were dim and Hope was grateful.

Julian rolled his toy across the hall floor again and Lyall chuckled, making some comment that was lost to the thick door. Voices hummed like the wings of bees in a hive, interrupted now and then by the ping of a PA system or the tchack-tchuck of crisp cart wheels going past. Remus was doing an awfully good job of pretending to sleep.

Today was hard. They had arrived early—so early, if there was a God up there she prayed she would never have to coerce a toddler into the car before sunrise again—and waited for long enough that she began to resent the asscrack-of-dawn appointment. Jules passed the time dozing in Remus’ lap; small miracles. When the doctor finally arrived, she read an Eye Spy book with him while Lyall and Remus went in for the debrief, both too tense around the shoulders. They had all been too tense lately. It made her sick to think about shoulders for too long.

Two weeks of silence had begun clotting between them and sticking to the corners of the house. Hope didn’t like hospitals much, never had, but she was just glad to be able to breathe. Dislocation and multiple muscle tears, they had said. Get to the doctor within the month, or you’ll run the risk of severe infection. Festering. Shredded. Damaged. All those words, and none of the truth.

Hope looked down at the hand laying limp in her own. Freckled. Strong. Determined. That was her son. That was the truth. The doctors always seemed to overlook his kindness, his gentle heart, his unending courage—they never wanted to just listen for two seconds. Maybe Remus would have told them what happened, then. Maybe he would finally speak up because Hope might not be a doctor but she knew for damn sure that an injury like that didn’t come from a stray hit, and not a single person cared to look further.

She would have done it herself, if she had the time. But she didn’t. She just didn’t. There wasn’t enough Hope Howell to go around.

“Remus.” Her voice stuck in her throat and she coughed lightly, giving his hand a squeeze. “Re, baby.”

He remained quiet and motionless, save for the steady rise and fall of his chest under the blankets. They only let him have pudding in the hospital, some fakey vanilla nonsense that smelled like plastic, and the antibiotics had brutalized his appetite—he was too skinny, now. Tears welled in her eyes and she bit the inside of her lip, looking to the ceiling until she was sure they wouldn’t fall.

“Come on, trooper, let’s get some water in you.” She squeezed his hand again, tighter. “You don’t have to sit up or anything. Dad and Jules are in the hallway. Just—just have a drink and then you can go back to sleep, okay?”

No response. Something warm slid down her cheek and she wiped it away on her sleeve. It wouldn’t do any good to cry right now. She had done enough of that earlier, when Remus couldn’t regulate his breathing by himself and the nurse asked her to hold his hand while they put the anesthesia mask over him. Hope didn’t plan on dying anytime soon, but she knew she would never forget the look on his face as long as she lived. Clammy and shaky, wide-eyed until the medicine kicked in and his lids slipped down into something almost restful if his brow hadn’t been creased so deep. It was the stuff of unimaginable nightmares. They told her he slept through the whole thing, all three grueling hours.

Two pins and an immeasurable number of stitches later, he still thought he could fool her.

There was no sense in wasting her energy to push down her emotions anymore. Remus had to know it was alright to feel them, and to let them go. Hope sniffled and watched one drip onto her jeans. “I know you’re awake,” she said quietly. “I know you’re probably feeling sick and awful but I am so proud of you, sweet pea.”

The blanket hitched.

“I’m so proud of you,” she repeated, voice wobbling. “You did so good. And I promise I’m not going to grill you about anything, I just want you to drink some water, if you want me to tell Dad you’re still asleep that’s fine—”

A low, broken sound cracked her somewhere deep, beyond her heart and lungs. When she leaned over in an awkward hug, Remus didn’t try to pull away like he had since that night, didn’t do anything but grip her cardigan with his good hand while half-breathless sobs wracked his body.

“I know.” She pressed a kiss to his sweaty hair. “I know, I know, I’m so sorry.”

“I can’t.” Remus sucked in air like a fish on land; she could hear it catching somewhere too shallow for it to do any good and held him closer. “Momma you don’t ‘n’ I’m sorry but I can’t.”

“Why not?” She closed her eyes tight enough to ache. “Re, baby, you’ve gotta tell me or I can’t help you.”

“The hit—the hit—”

“Please don’t bullshit me.” She sounded frail to her own ears. “Don’t tell me it was the hit, Remus, your dad and I both know that’s not true—”

The next sob was louder and she winced in sympathy at the seizing of his chest. “It was, it was—”

“No.” She sat up just enough to see him, though Remus’ hold on her didn’t loosen by a bit. His face was blotchy and streaked with salt tracks, lips white at the edges from trying to keep it all in. He was Remus, age five, with a red mark on his forehead from a doorknob. He was Remus, age eight, split-lipped and bruised after going head over heels over his bike handlebars. He was Remus, age 14, roughed-up from his first hockey fight once the adrenaline faded and he was just scared and in pain.

Hope gently pried him off her sweater and held his hand in both of her own. A deep breath eased her headache by a degree, but nothing could stop the heartache watching Remus choke down his tears again, and again, and again. There was something darker in his eyes. Something more than fear and hurt. It was where his sobs kept catching and his breath couldn’t get through. Part of Remus had died that night, she knew that much, but this cesspool of abject terror was something he hadn’t let them see yet.

“I won’t ask for details.” Please, please tell me or I’m never going to sleep again. Remus watched her like a wary deer and somehow that hurt even more. “I won’t. I promise. You can tell Dad and ask him not to share with me if you want. But I need to ask you one thing, Remus, and I need you to be honest.”

His throat bobbed. He sniffed, though it didn’t do much. His left arm was bound tight to his body and it took a second for him to shift up on the pillows. He nodded.

“Did this happen during the hit?”

Remus’ lower lip wobbled and he shook his head, lashes clumping with fresh tears that spilled over and down toward his ears. Hope let out an unsteady exhale and bent to hug him again.

Sitting there in the plastic chair, back aching, holding her son who had done nothing to deserve anything but the best in life, Hope found that she couldn’t wish death on whoever did this. Death was too good for them. Too light of a punishment. She wanted their life razed and salted and burned until nothing could grow there again and when their time was finally up, she wanted them to pass on with nobody at their side.

In a sense, it was a good thing Lyall was still keeping Jules entertained for the millionth hour, bless his sweet soul. If he had been there for Remus’ confession, the person who did this to their son would be six feet underground before the day was up.

Remus had quieted, resigned to sniffling and the occasional tremor. Hope brushed his hair off his feverish forehead and wiped his tears with the corner of the blanket. “Thank you,” she said at last.

“I don’t think I can do this,” Remus rasped.

“Yes, you can.” She met his gaze, holding strong under the shattered thing staring back at her. “And you will. It’s alright if it takes time. You and me and your dad and Jules are going to get through this, Remus. Step by step. This is not the end of the world.”

Later, when she looked through the window while Jules finished his snack in her lap and saw Lyall holding Remus like his lanky body could shield them both from the world, it almost felt like a beginning.

#hope lupin #remus lupin #julian lupin #lyall lupin #sweater weather #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #injury #hospitals #hurt/ comfort #angst #hugs #remus go to therapy challenge #noot fest #fic o'ween 2022

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lakeofsilverpike · 9 months

Text

Rewatching the first three episodes. Today I am struck by the scene in 2x01 with Lan and Tomas. I have some angsty thoughts to share:

Lan says, “She wants me to leave.” I want to suggest that perhaps before Moiraine started trying to push Lan away by saying cruel things and ignoring him, she may have actually had a conversation in which she explained that she wants him to leave to protect him. He said no, and after a few more iterations of that conversation, Moiraine acknowledged to herself what she always knew, that asking wouldn’t work. That she would have to be so cruel as to drive Lan away from her.

It just makes my heart break more for her. Moiraine who maybe gave it a go with words, hoping she and Lan could part with their relationship intact, with words of love, and without Lan thinking she hates him. But Lan of course refused to leave and so Moiraine felt she had no choice but to push him away to try to save his life.

Lan tells Tomas that Lan needed the bond to tell him when “[Moiraine’s] tired, she’s hungry, she’s angry, she’s afraid.” It’s interesting to me that Moiraine can obviously still read Lan perfectly. Each jab and insult and attempt to push him away reflects her absolute understanding of him and what he’s feeling.

Lan tells Tomas that he is almost as stubborn as Moiraine. It’s like Lan knows he’s going to give in already, can feel that he’s let Moiraine wear him down. I’ve struggled with fully grasping why Lan is having trouble reading Moiraine here. I understand fully that he is hurt by her actions. I even understand why he might leave. But understanding why she was acting as she was - that seems to obvious. Lan, should be able to understand easily, should know that of course Moiraine does not believe he is beneath her or that he failed her. Just knowing Moiraine for twenty years, he should know. Looking at her face, her ridiculously expressive and open face as she speaks of meeting him. Lan should know her feelings for him and why she is acting as she is. There should be no doubt.

I think I’ve settled on a reading of Lan that he would normally be able to read Moiraine perfectly well without the bond, but he is so consumed by his own feelings of failure and guilt that he is unable to focus on Moiraine and her feelings and motivations fully. He feels he failed Moiraine. He gave in to his wish for a night of pleasure and that choice allowed Moiraine a chance to mask the bond when he would think that normal. Lan cannot get through to Moiraine. He cannot get her to talk to him. He cannot help ease her pain. He cannot give her back what she lost. And he takes this as his failure and focuses on himself and how he’s failed.

When Verin and Tomas at dinner encourage Lan to just sit with Moiraine and support her, this is what they are seeing. Lan’s guilt, while focused on Moiraine and his desire to help her, actually obscures him to what she is actually feeling and what she needs. He focuses on himself, what he’s done wrong, how he’s fails her, what Moiraine’s actions mean about him. And he struggles to see what her actions mean about her, her deep love for him, her willingness to sacrifice his love and support if it means Lan will live. Moiraine is simultaneously trying to cope with a tremendous loss and trying to push away Lan to save him. And I don’t think he fully sees this or understands it.

Sitting with Moiraine in silence may not have gotten Moiraine to be less determined to push Lan away as she believes it’s the only way to save his life. It may not have made her talk to Lan. But Lan sitting there and thinking about Moiraine, being open to seeing Moiraine, really seeing her as Lan has for twenty years, may have allowed him to understand Moiraine’s motivations. But I think he was too focused on what Moiraine’s pain and loss meant about Lan and who he is and his perceived failures. And ultimately that is what keeps him from understanding Moiraine in this moment and why she is doing what she is.

This is not a Lan blaming post. He’s doing his best. And Moiraine does know him incredibly well and can read him perfectly and so she hurts him with perfect precision. But man does she need a hug. Because Adeleas is right when she says Lan is taking things too personally. He blames himself for Moiraine being hurt because the loss of the bond impacts him and his feelings about his role in life, he is unable to truly see Moiraine. A woman who is coping with a life altering loss and also trying to save Lan and in doing so denying herself any support. Someone go hug Moiraine!

#wot meta #wot season 2 spoilers #moiraine sedai #lan mandragoran #this meta brought to you by a long commute on a semi functional public transit system #if anything I wrote doesn’t make sense #please accept my apologies #and allow me to blame the chaos of working in the American healthcare system #anyway someone go hug moiraine #Siuan! that means you!#then sit the two brooding idiots down and yell at them together #and make them hug

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justmochi · 11 months

Text

to love another person

pairing :: mira x wonwoo

word count :: 1.3k

synopsis :: wonwoo decides to put his and mira’s relationship on hold indefinitely

time :: 2019

warnings :: angst. mira experiences her first heartbreak

taglist :: @cafemilk-tea @cixrosie @moonlight-additions @cosmicwintr @astraw-astro @succulentmom @kimhyejin3108 @enhacolor @alixnsuperstxr @hybesunstone

a/n :: theres a happy ending to all of this I PROMISE YOUUU

“Mira, I’ve been thinking.” He sighed, scratching the back of his neck as she perked up. She was always interested in what he had to say. Her attention never festered.

She hummed with a smile as he was unable to look her in the face. When he was quiet for a little too long, like he was collecting his words, her smile faded. She placed her hand on his shoulder, rubbing circles against his hoodie. “What is it?”

“Everything’s getting crazy around me. And I’m about to leave for months, I just don’t feel comfortable leaving you here on your own.”

She chuckled, not getting what he was hinting at. “So do you want me to come along with you?” She felt gullible even making a joke like that because it was bizarre. The mood turned sour. “I’m sorry.”

“I think we should put the brakes on our relationship for a while..” He turned to her, still looking towards the ground to save himself the pain of seeing her disappointed face.

“Put the brakes? Why-what do you mean?”” Her eyes widened, almost removing her touch.

“I feel terrible even now because it’s been weeks since we’ve hung out like this.” He frowned, grabbing her free hand. “You deserve better. Someone who can dedicate all their time to you.”

Wonwoo admired her tiny hands in his, feeling guilty as he noticed her palms getting sweaty. “It’s not you, I promise. I don’t even know if it’s me. I just know that you deserve more than what I can give.”

“Are you breaking up with me?” Her voice broke him. She was crying.

Wonwoo had never seen her cry before. And the stab was unbearable to know he was the reason behind it. He almost took a step back, afraid being that close to her would hurt her even more.

“If it’s the distance, then it’s okay. I’ll just deal with it.”

He grabs her shoulders, pulling her into a hug and holding her tight. She sobbed quietly into his hoodie, realizing she wouldn’t be able to find comfort in his scent anymore like the way she had been.

She’d rather have him to herself, at least then she would be able to call him hers regardless of the distance between them. She wanted him. Even if they were worlds apart and they fell out of touch, he would still be Mira’s.

“Please don’t cry.” He patted her hair down, kissing her temple as she was limp in his arms. She couldn’t hold him back due to her state of shock. “I'm always gonna be here for you. As your friend. I just can’t be the boyfriend that you deserve right now.”

She shook her head, letting the tears soak into his clothing. “Can’t I do anything? Can I convince you or talk you out of this? I know I haven’t exactly been the best girlfriend because I’m not good at this stuff but-“

He distanced himself from her, caressing her cheek before kissing her on the lips. It hurt. As she kept talking, it made him feel terrible. The worse had yet to come but he was already doing so much damage.

He tasted the saltiness of her tears, furrowing his eyebrows to keep himself from breaking down too. When they finally pulled away, she couldn’t look him in the eye. She hoped there was anything she could say to hopefully change his mind. She wanted to keep fighting but he was set on his decision.

“Hey, maybe we can look back on this in a few months and smile. But you and I both know this is a bad time. You’re busy, I’m busy.”

“But I just want you.” She cried, grabbing a fistful of his hoodie into her hand. “I haven’t felt safe with anyone but you. I feel comfortable with you.”

“You have no idea how hard this is,” He whispered under his breath, voice breaking little by little. “I don’t wanna do this.”

“Then don’t. Please?” She begged, holding his face in her hands as the tears trickled down her cheeks.

He bit his tongue, frowning when pressing his forehead against hers. “I can hardly take care of myself right now. How am I supposed to take care of you? You deserve all of me, but not when my mind is somewhere else.”

“But I love you…” She hesitated, only realizing this was the first time she told him she loved him after the words came out. He finally let the tears fall down his face, shoulders trembling as he tried to pull himself together.

“I do, I love you too. But because I love and respect you so much, I have to do this.” He pulled her in tighter, afraid he might cave and take back everything he said. “Let me work on loving myself first before I can give you all of me.”

As time passed, he was putting it into perspective for her more and more. She was putting her selfish emotions aside and actually seeing the situation for what it was. She also wondered if she loved herself enough to devote herself to another person.

She pulled away from him, nodding her head as she wiped her face with her sleeve. She tried her hardest to breathe in through her nostrils, finding it difficult due to all her crying. “Can you take me home?”

He wanted to comfort her by giving her a rub on her arm but he held himself back. “Yeah, of course.” He stuffed his hands into his hoodie, the two walking side by side, almost like strangers.

The car ride back to Mira’s dorm was awfully quiet. Her body naturally turned away from him, looking out the window at the street lights. So many thoughts were running through her mind, way too many that she had no idea what to do with. She tried to keep in mind what he said, but why was drawing every conclusion to herself?

She couldn’t get herself to speak up as much as she wanted to. And by the time she worked up the courage to talk to him, they were already parked in front of her dorms. She unbuckled herself like she was a zombie, pushing the door open as he did the same. He walked over to her side, hesitantly reaching for her hand. He always did this when dropped her off.

She held onto his hand with trembling fingers as he took small steps towards the building. Anything to extend their time together.

As they got to the entrance, Mira sighed heavily as she stopped to turn to him. “Wonwoo?”

“Yeah?” He pursed his lips, gently stroking her cheek with one of his hands. He was always afraid to touch her, especially right now.

“You’ll still be my friend, right?”

He nodded, pulling her into a hug. As she wrapped her arms around him, it was only now setting in that this would be the last time they’d be together like this.

“Then let’s both begin to love ourselves for the time being. So that maybe in the future, we can love each other better than we can right now with no uncertainties.”

She looked up at him, forcing a smile as tears pooled up once again. He brushed her hair behind her ears, leaning down to give her one last kiss on the lips.

It was hard to say goodbye to each other, wanting to stay under the streetlights for longer just to avoid the inevitable pain the breakup was going to bring both of them.

The woman entered the dorms, her head hanging low as she made her way through to her room.

“How was the date?” Yoohyeon watched Mira walk right past her where she was sitting on the couch. She was puzzled and unsure if she spoke loud enough.

She paused the series she was watching on the tv, making her way down the hall and knocking on Mira’s door before opening it. “How was your date?”

Yoohyeon’s bubbly and curious expression soon faded when seeing Mira sitting on the edge of her bed holding back a sob. She watched her shoulders shake with each breath she took. “Mira?”

#ficnetfairy #justmochi: mira #mira.love #minwoo #dreamcatcher 8th member #dreamcatcher oc #8th member of dreamcatcher #fake dreamcatcher member #fake dreamcatcher oc #fake kpop addition #fake kpop idol #fake kpop soloist #addition to kpop #oc!kpop #oc!idol #oc!soloist

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spicywarl0ck · 1 month

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hello and happy friday! maybe "it seems like the end of the world right now, I know," for solas/male lavellan if that picques your interest. 💖

Happy Friday! Thank you for this prompt, took me a while for inspiration to hit, but here we are <3 (Also I received this prompt multiple times, and I can only say to the others: I will do the others too x3 You just have to be a bit patient) I might have made myself cry a bit with this, anyway: @dadrunkwriting Pairing: Solas/mLavellan Length: 689 Rating: G The world was a whirl of green and grey, the air filled with pure electricity.

It was the stillness before the storm and the last night before the biggest battle he’d ever fought. He felt the quietness of the Keep as everyone kept talking in hushed whispers, each of them under suspense, holding the one hope that he might be able to save them all.

It made the pressure on his shoulders almost unbearable.

Revassan had never been a leader before. He had been a capable hunter under the Dalish maybe, resourceful enough to be sent as a spy to the conclave. But he’d never been more than that before the fateful events at the temple of sacred ashes and he never wanted to be.

He hadn’t asked to become the Herald of Andraste or the Inquisitor, but here he was, preparing to lead them all to battle.

Revassan wasn’t ready for this and he probably never would be. He’d lived a quiet life with the Dalish; his sister had been the magical prodigy and his father’s pride. All that had been left for him was to make himself useful somehow.

It hadn’t been her fault and he never blamed her for it. Yet, he couldn’t help but wonder if their interactions would have been different if things had been different.

Well, it was too late for that now, he supposed as he took a deep breath. Even that was hard with the heaviness of the air that left a bitter taste on his tongue. He could just hope they succeeded; That he succeeded.

“Ah, there you are. I was searching for you.” Solas’s voice made his lips twitch into a half-smile.

Revassan might have had a few regrets and saw some unpleasant things during his time in the Inquisition, but Solas had made it worthwhile. He wouldn’t miss the man in his life for anything, in the world.

“I just needed fresh air.” His forest green eyes looked tired as they looked at the mage approaching him, his grey eyes expressing sadness and compassion.

“It seems like the end of the world right now, I know.” His hand cupped Revassan’s cheek, making him feel the warmth of it pressing against his skin. He could have melted into the touch right away, the fear in his heart eased just for a few seconds.

“But, I have seen many endings, and the world is still there, as it will be for a while.”

There was something unreadable in Solas’s expression when he said those words, his hand swiftly retreating so he could clasp them behind his back in thought. His gaze wandered to the Breach, watching the whirling and brewing storm with an almost unsettling calmness.

And all of a sudden, he seemed to be very far away until he pulled back.

“It’s so quiet.” Revassan pointed out as he kept one ear listening for any movement in Skyhold.

“Not all of them. Can you hear the Chargers drink and celebrate?” Solas asked, giving him a moment to listen to the distant chatter echoing from the Herald’s rest and reaching his balcony.

“They have seen many battles and drink to the next. Determined to emerge victorious.”

“Will they though?” The younger elf asked quietly. He sometimes felt there was something Solas wasn’t telling him but he also couldn’t say what. But ever since the Well of Sorrow, he felt Solas might have been older than he let on, just like the sentinels they met.

“Who knows.” Solas’s eyes were still focused on the distance before he looked away, the dimples showing when he smiled patiently. “I’m afraid that’s not for me or you to know,” he added quietly. “But, I am content that you will succeed. You might not see it yourself, but you have become a leader everyone looks up to. And quite a capable one.”

His hand moved to tilt his chin softly as he locked eyes with him before he continued in elven.

“Do not worry, Vhenan. You are a stronger force than you think. And no matter what will come. Don’t forget that I love you.”

#dragon age fanfiction #dragon age #writing #prompt #dadrunkwriting #dadwc #Solavellan #solavellan hell #Solas #male Lavellan #male lavellan/solas #my writing

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