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yoooespinosa · 3 years

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hi! i don't know if you write for cedric diggory but i saw in your post that it could be any pair (and also because i love your writings!!). so if it's okay with you, can i please request cedric x ravenclaw!reader. where the reader feels insecure around ced because she's the new gf and is a bit jealous of cho (because they're both in ravenclaw), so ced comes and reassures her that she has nothing to worry about.

a/n: Thank you for your request! Definitely got off track lol.

Ordinary, that’s how you would describe yourself while looking in the mirror. No matter how many times you pinched your cheeks for a flush, pluck your eyebrows or even lather your face in expensive face masks, you couldn’t help but feel ordinary.

You see a dull girl looking back at your reflection, what could you possibly have to offer?

Bringing your face closer to the other you, you try and look. To look and see what he can possibly see.

No matter how hard you search, you find nothing. You sigh, a pout to your lips.

“What’s wrong?” A gentle voice interrupts your heavy observation. “You’ve been staring at yourself for close to an hour.”

You almost groan, you must look like a weirdo.

You turn to face the girl that was leaning against the door frame that leads into your shared bathroom.

She was beautiful. Everything about her was beautiful, her eyes, her hair, her cheekbones, the shape of her lips, even her voice was beautiful. Cho had to be perfect. It didn’t help that she had such a good heart.

She was so perfect, you wanted to strangle her. How could Cedric, your beautiful boyfriend, go after you when he had a girl like Cho before?

You couldn’t possibly comprehend it.

You open your mouth to answer her, but then cut yourself off. “Nothing important.”

You pass by her concerned gaze, heading to your bed, letting your insecurities run wild once your head hits the pillows.

If you had stayed any longer you might have asked something stupid like, “am i pretty?” and you didn’t need the possibility of your fears being confirmed.

Cedric and Cho had broken up a year ago. They both agreed they were better off as friends. A few months after their breakup, he took a liking to you. He did everything in his power to win your affections, it was easy to fall for him. Cho had been supportive of it too, even helping him woo you.

So you don’t know why you have these doubts, even when your months in with Cedric.

You’re not even sure when you started the comparison of yourself. Always questioning everything you did, ‘Did Cho do this?’ or ‘Did he prefer to do this with Cho, rather than you?’

You even started comparing yourself to all the other girls that still shamelessly flirted with Cedric. Knowing he was taken didn’t seem to stop them. It didn’t help that even they were beautiful. You were scared that maybe one day he’d see it too and leave you for them. Or realize he made a mistake with breaking things off with Cho.

You felt like a shadow compared to him, Cho and every other pretty girl that glanced his way. You felt as if you were watching him live his life, while you sat quietly, watching for a little tell sign of his doubts of you.

But he gave away nothing. He gave you everything though. He gave you his love and you wondered why that wasn’t enough to kill those running thoughts.

He looks at you with nothing but love and admiration in his eyes. Yet, you still tear yourself apart every night. Thinking of solutions on how you can just be better. You pick yourself apart, until your numb.

You fell asleep with the echo of your unanswered why’s.

“Ready?” Cedric asks, taking a hold of your hand.

You hum in agreement, letting him pull you up.

You both just finished lunch and planned on heading to his dorm to hang out there. You hadn’t brought up any of the thoughts that were burning through your skull the other night and you didn’t plan to.

You focused on the path ahead, not noticing the stolen glances from the boy next to you.

Entering his dorm, you both take off your shoes and place them next to the door. You put your bag down and just take in the room. Trying to let the familiar space sooth your nerves.

“You’ve been feeling alright?” He asks, looking at you through his lashes.

“Fine.” Nodding your head, but you think the bags under your eyes speak a different truth.

“Cho’s been telling me that you’ve seemed off,” He paused, then adding “lately.”

You faintly wondered why he said it like that, but inwardly shaking it off as you processed his words.

“You and Cho talk about me?”

You wanted to ask that they talked in general, but you knew they did. You weren’t sure why the thought filled you with a sense of dread, why your chest compacted in with it.

That little voice in your head was making up all these sinful scenarios, flashing before your eyes that you almost felt like you were going to be sick.

“We’re friends,” He says gently, almost like he sees how fragile you are, how one wrong word could be the downfall. “she’s your friend also. And she’s just been a little concerned.”

You chewed on your lip, cutting up your gums, stopping yourself from saying anything you’d regret after. “Nothing to be concerned about.”

He sighs and stares at you for a second longer, it seemed like he was searching for something that you weren’t sure you wanted him to find, so you turn your eyes away.

You heard his footsteps walking to the other side of his bed, followed by the sound of his drawer opening.

“Here,” You looked up to find him holding a brown cable knit sweater, your favorite one he owned.

It brought a small smile to your face, making an ounce of relief flood his chest.

You mumbled your gratitude, then taking your leave to the restroom to change. A shadow fell over his eyebrows, you’d always just change in front of him.

He didn’t linger on the thought for too long once he heard the click of the door and your light footsteps.

You made your way to his bed, gently prying the sheets open and sinking into the warmth. You turned your back towards him, closing your eyes, and letting the sound of the changing of his clothes fill the air.

A dip to the side of you and arms enclosing in on you, dragging you into more warmth. Yet, the coldness in your chest stayed.

You clenched your eyes shut and prayed for sleep. This was your favorite part of day, these naps with Cedric, his dorm room empty and the chance to be alone without anyone in sight to compare yourself to.

But even with his arms around you and the smell of him surrounding the space you were in, didn’t stop the whispers of the troubled.

He must of felt how tense you were, different from the way you so easily melted into him.

“Y/n.” He whispers, you felt him shift behind you, his arms loosening.

You clenched your eyes tighter, trying to even out your breaths, but even you knew that it was not possible to fall asleep that fast.

“Y/n,” He hovers over you a little, looking at your face with an unimpressed expression. “i know you’re not sleeping.”

You unclench your eyes, steeling yourself, for the conversation you knew was bound to happen. Opening your eyes, you met his soft bright ones. His eyes, that spoke everything you wished you’d just believe.

“Yes?” You mumble softly, peeking at him through your lashes.

He stares at you a second longer, then kisses your cheek. “Talk to me.”

“About what?” You were never good at playing oblivious.

“About what’s going on in your head that’s making you look at me like that.”

You furrow your eyebrows, “Looking at you, like what?”

“Like i’m a stranger,” He mumbles sadly. “like i’m someone you should be wary of.”

Guilt washed over you, you didn’t know you were so translucent. You never wanted Cedric to be affected by the problems you were inflicting on yourself.

“That’s not true.” An obvious lie.

“It is.” He corrects you. “You can talk to me, you know that right? We’ll never fix anything, if you don’t talk to me.”

He was right, no matter how much you didn’t want to talk about this. You knew you needed to at some point. And it was looking as if that time was now.

“I just-“ You tried again. “Do you ever have, i don’t know, doubts?”

“Doubts?” You turn so your laying on your back now, him still half hovering over you. “About what?”

“Like,” A long sigh escapes past your lips, unwilling. “Do you ever regret getting with me?”

He gapes at you, almost looking offended of the question. “Why would you even ask that?” He sits up, causing you to follow.

“I don’t kn-“

“Do you think i regret it?” He rephrases, “Do i make it seem like regret it?”

Every scenario of him and you together flashes in blurs through your head and no he didn’t, the opposite actually. He looked at you as if you were the sun, as if you were brighter than the sun.

“No.” You mumble weakly, ashamed that even that revelation didn’t seem to dampen your insecurities.

“Then i’m confused on what brought this on.”

“Why are you with me, when you can be with someone as beautiful as Cho.” You meant for it to come out as a question, but it sounded like a statement.

Maybe you did mean to say it like that, it’s what you believed, the only thing you weren’t questioning the truth of.

You hear him get up and you feel as if your heart stopped beating. This is it, this was what you were preparing yourself for, you thought to yourself. Eyes already blurring.

Then a warm hand in yours, pulling you up. You stumble a little, but he steadies you, always keeping you grounded. Next thing you know he’s dragging you along to the bathroom. Confusion is clear on your face.

“What?” You mumble more to yourself.

He brings you in front of the mirror, the full body length one in the corner of the room. He stands behind you, towering over your smaller frame.

“Look at yourself.” He demands softly, when you don’t cast your eyes away from his.

You oblige, catching your own eyes. You furrow your eyebrows.

“What are you thinking about right now?” He asks, his hands ghosting over your waist.

“How could you possibly love me when i can’t even love myself?”

He looked pained by your words, that you could even have those thoughts.

“I’ll love you enough for the both of us.”

You give him a weak smile, “It doesn’t work like that.”

“Then i’ll help you love yourself.” He adds, desperately. “I’ll make you see what’s to love about you.”

He grips you harder, taking away the response you had.

“Look,” Because your eyes had ventured to his once again.

His thumbs brushed over your body, the side of your face, until they landed under your eyes. Covering the dark circles from view, he smoothed them out gently.

“Your eyes,” He began softly. “they have to be the most captivating eyes i’ve ever seen. They were the first thing i noticed about you, the first thing that pulled me in.”

His fingers brushed over your nose, curving in with it.

“This adorable nose,” He pinches it softly. “home to the freckles i could spend all my time counting.”

He brushed over your cheeks, leaving a pink blush. His fingers stopped at your lips.

“Have to be the most kissable lips out there.” He drags your bottom lip down with his thumb. “I could spend hours just kissing you, these lips.”

His knuckles brush over your neck.

“Where else am i supposed to leave my marks that show everyone your mine?”

He spends an hour at least, going through why he loved every feature about you. Talking about the way you bewitched him with your looks, with your heart.

“Can’t you see how you’re the cause of my euphoria?” His chin was resting on your shoulder, his eyes burning into yours, you never felt more loved than right now.

Those whispers dimmed in comparison to his loving words.

His hands were still roaming slowly over you, like he couldn’t get enough, you were sure he couldn’t get enough.

“What do you see?” He whispers, once your eyes take yourself in again.

“I see-“ You think for a second, really think. “I see potential.”

Potential to love yourself. Potential to accept the love he gave you. Potential to feel worthy to have him. Potential to see that he picked you.

And from then, every so often he would drag you to the mirror and do it again. Adding something new each time.

Until potential turned to beauty. Undeniable beauty. Until the whispers were nothing more than the self assured.

#cedric diggory #cedric x you #cedric fanfiction #cedric x y/n #cedric x reader #cedric diggory x reader #cedric diggory x you #cedric diggory x female reader #cedric diggory fluff #cedric diggory fanfiction #cedric diggory fic #cedric diggory smut #cedric diggory oneshot #cho chang #ravenclaw #lexi’s fics ◡̈

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sockablock · 3 years

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When Essek's old alter ego is suddenly asked by Da'leth to work at Soltryce Academy, nine semi-retired adventurers are thrust back into a web of danger, intrigue, and wizardly shenanigans. (Surprise, surprise! I’m back with another Shadowgast WIP)

Chapter 1: The Worst-Case Scenario

Caleb watched Essek hover back and forth like a miniature, panicked storm cloud.

“This is ridiculous! It must be some kind of joke. We haven't had any contact for years, and now he expects me to believe him? What is he playing at?”

“Breathe, Essek, breathe. You will not solve this mystery by wearing a hole in—above—the carpet.”

“What?” Essek looked down, then stopped floating. “Oh. My apologies. I’m a bit…well, you know.”

“I would be too.” There was urging in Caleb’s voice. “Take a seat, Schatz. Let me see the letter.”

Essek obliged, handing over a crumpled scroll right before collapsing heavily into his chair. The fire of a cold late-autumn evening cast their den in gold and orange light.

“Does he explain himself?” Caleb turned the scroll the right way around. “Does he say why?”

“Has Da’leth ever done that?” Essek snorted. “All he wrote was that I—rather, that Thain, had been selected. And I only have two days to respond.”

Caleb waved his hand, and a glowing orb appeared. He brought it closer to the parchment. “May I?”

“Please.”

“To the esteemed Lord Dezran Thain of Nicodranas—good grief. He really isn’t subtle.”

“Tell me about it,” Essek said.

“Perhaps,” Caleb continued, “you are aware of the ongoing investigations into the Cerberus Assembly. If so, then perhaps you have also heard that Archmage Tversky and Archmage Margolin will be leaving our ranks by the end of the week—ah yes, Beau was quite proud of that.”

“She should be,” Essek said miserably. “It’s about time. Read the next part.”

“And so it falls on the surviving members of our organization to fill these vacant roles. We believe, for the safety and stability of our country, that the next Archmages of Conscription and Dysology should come from within the Empire; however, it has been brought to our attention that adding a Nicodranian mage to our ranks could be quite valuable. Such an alliance would strengthen our ties to the Menagerie Coast, as well as assuage any concerns that the Empire is isolationist or inflexible. Therefore, as we have been friends for some time—really?”

Essek made a face. “I would not have called him my ‘friend’ in any form, but we have known each other for a few decades. Unfortunately.”

“Unfortunately,” Caleb commiserated. He smoothed out the letter and found his place again. “—I wished to have the pleasure of informing you that on behalf of the Cerberus Assembly, you, Lord Dezran Thain of Nicodranas, have been extended the honor of replacing Archmage Margolin in his secondary capacity—as the distinguished and peerless Headmaster of the Soltryce Academy. Oh. My gods.”

Essek groaned. He had his head buried in his hands.

“You Identified this already?” Caleb managed eventually.

Essek nodded. “I wish I hadn’t.”

Caleb continued to stare at the letters. The fluid, curving script seemed to blur all together. “That’s…gods,” he said again.

“Agreed.”

“I…can’t imagine how you’re feeling right now.”

Essek snorted. “Actually, if anyone could, it would be you.” Then something occurred to him. Suddenly, the hearth shone an odd color in his eyes. “This was delivered to our home. To this house, in Rexxentrum. Yours. That…bastard.”

Caleb was quick to understand. He took a deep breath, then reached over for Essek’s hand.

“Maybe it was just enchanted to find you wherever you are. Like a Sending spell.”

“I’d hate to think otherwise. That would mean—”

Caleb interrupted him out of mercy. “Every inch of our tower is warded from divination. Besides, you’ve adopted an endless array of personas. I don’t even think we’ve been seen together with you as Thain, not since the party years ago.”

“Still.” Essek rubbed his eyes. “The timing makes me think he knows something. That, and the fact that it’s for Thain, I mean—what has Thain accomplished? I don’t even remember telling anyone I was a mage!”

“That, ah…that might have been Jester’s fault. She really enjoyed adding to your personas. You needed a past, after all, otherwise you would have just appeared from nowhere.”

“So she told everyone that Thain was a famous wizard?”

“The best lies are often true,” Caleb shrugged. “Though I admit that she might have gone a little overboard. You know how much she likes to praise her friends.”

It was a testament to Essek’s troubled mood that he barely acknowledged this. Caleb squeezed his fingers. “They said…they did say you could reject them. And their political reasoning is not unsound. Maybe that is all there is to it—the Assembly needs someone to be the Headmaster, and they thought of you.”

Even after so many years of trying, Caleb’s reassuring voice still left some things desired. Essek shut his eyes.

“My love, the very idea that the Cerberus Assembly is even thinking of me is a nightmare.”

“Fair enough.”

“I just want to know why,” Essek muttered. “Why now? Why me? What is he after?”

“I don’t know,” Caleb said. “I wish I did.”

Essek suddenly turned toward him. “I—I hate to ask this, but can you find out? You know…ask our old friend the newest Archmage.”

“Ah.” Caleb’s face gave a complicated shuffle, one common these days when Astrid was mentioned.

“If you don’t want to—” Essek hurried.

“No, no, I can…try.” He scratched his chin. “She’s just been less open, lately. She’s not…pleased by how thorough the Soul is being. Beauregard is relentless.”

“It has been seven years. That’s a lot for your kind, but probably just enough for Da’leth to finally realize they mean business—” Essek blinked. “Do you think that’s why he picked me?”

“We don’t know that he’s behind this,” Caleb said lamely. At Essek’s expression, he relented. “Alright, alright. I’ll stop suggesting otherwise.”

“It’s not unappreciated, I just prefer to be direct. It is clear that Da’leth is trying to use me again. This time, in order to hurt you and the Cobalt Soul. There is no point in believing otherwise.”

Caleb brushed Essek’s face. “No, that would require him to think he could use you in the first place. But that is impossible, because Thain does not know Widogast.”

“He does, though.”

“Yes, but is Da’leth aware of that? He cannot be.”

“I thought we put an end to that.”

“Only to statements of idle hope, not facts.” Caleb was now holding both his hands. “The truth of the matter is that…yes, perhaps the Martinet does want you for some devious plan—”

“Oh, lovely—”

“—however, any plan he has cannot be based on our connection. We have been doing this…being us, for seven years now, Essek. If he were going to play against that hand, he would have done so already. This must be something else.”

Essek huffed. “What, though? What reason does he have? I haven’t been important to the Kryn for years. I resigned, I’m virtually a stranger there, and I certainly don’t have any more secrets for sale.” He paused. “Well, ones that Ludinus would desire. I’m useless to him.”

“I highly doubt that,” Caleb said. And his voice, while kind, had a faint edge to it. “You are right in that there probably is some motivation here. It might be related to the investigation in other ways—after all, two members of the Assembly are leaving. That makes four upheavals in under a decade. And if the Soul and the crown are both pushing for the appointment of more partial Archmages, then it might very well be the case that Da’leth just wants someone he can control. In your case, through blackmail.”

“Hooray for me.”

“He probably wouldn’t, though,” Caleb said. “Since, as you said, this is a situation of mutually assured destruction.”

Essek grimaced. “I have been somewhat wishful in that department. Even with your support, it is still my word against the Martinet.”

“Our word. That includes the Cobalt Soul.”

Essek shook his head. “You’ve seen how well he’s stood up to them so far. Can you honestly say that my safety is a sure thing? Don’t lie to me, Caleb.”

There was a pause.

“Essek, I will do everything in my power to protect you.”

"I know." He patted Caleb on the hand.

Outside their tower, far away, the evening bells of the Rexxentrum began to ring. One, and then two, and then almost a dozen, loud and bronze across the dimming sky.

“There is one way to find out for sure what Da’leth is planning.”

Essek sighed. “I know. But I don’t like it.”

Caleb leaned back in his seat. “Neither do I.”

The cry of the great bells waned. In their den, all around the wall, points of magelight flared to life—flickering and purple harbingers of night.

“Will you do it?” Caleb said.

“I don’t know if I have a choice.”

“You do,” Caleb said. “The worst-case scenario is that Da’leth tries to talk, and we…deal with that.”

“We’ve been trying to deal with him for years,” Essek said. “And…maybe this is bold of me to say, but the worst-case scenario isn’t that—it’s not knowing. Maybe I can…maybe I can find the answers here. If Da’leth thinks he is controlling me, if he trusts me to do his bidding, maybe I can finally learn something to break his hold.”

“As long as he never truly controls you,” Caleb said. “That is a risk I cannot accept.”

This time, Essek was the one to offer assurance. He gently pressed a kiss to Caleb’s hand.

“You forget,” he said wryly. “I am a powerful wizard. Haven’t you heard my title?”

“Shadowhand?” Caleb said. He did not look fully mollified, but he managed a chuckle. “I thought you were retired.”

Essek smiled. “I was, my love, but now it seems that I have a new role. Starting soon...you will be sharing your home with the next Headmaster of the Soltryce Academy.”

—

✨ Ko-Fi Link in Bio! ✨ | Requests are OPEN :3

#critical role #critrole #critfic #shadowgast #fic #thanks so much for reading!!#i'm really hoping to keep up this story consistently and any feedback is very appreciated <3 #jay writes #long post #fanfiction #text #fanfic #that 'keep reading' had better work i s2g #without fear or favor

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

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Deep Breaths

Valkyrae x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Panic Attack, Mentions of past domestic abuse, Mentions of alcohol and drug abuse, Swearing

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst to Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Having received a call from the correctional facility where their alcoholic/drug addict mother is being kept, Y/N gets some intense nightmarish flashbacks to a time that still haunts them despite a decade having passed. Luckily their girlfriend Rae is there to comfort therm.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your lovely request, I hope I captured what you wanted to read! Sorry it has taken me so long to complete and post the fic, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Love, Vy ❤

“Hey Y/N, I-“ One step in the living room and that’s all it took for Rae to pick up on the melancholic mood in the room.

Her partner hasn’t even noticed she’s entered. Instead, they are sitting hunched over on the couch, elbows on knees, hand seeking their hands’ support to stay upright and their eyes hiding a thousand yard stare that’s got Rae worried sick.

“Babe, what’s wrong?“ She asks softly, inching closer to the couch to take a seat next to Y/N, “You can tell me anything, you know that, right?“

Through the fog surrounding their brain, they somehow manage to catch onto Rae’s words, forcing themself to give her at least a nod in response as to not scare her with their unresponsiveness. They can’t bring themselves to speak, it’s too hard on them to even think of what to say let alone spit it out, especially when their chest feels like it’s caught fire and their mind is still going haywire, heartbeat thumping in their ears as the adrenaline rush refuses to cease.

“Hey, look at me...“ Instead of sitting down, Rae ducks down in front of Y/N, taking their hands in hers, almost wincing at how cold they were. “Tell me what’s bothering you, baby.“

The girl is trying her best not to freak out or lose her cool, despite her already quickened heartbeat she can hear in her ears. She has every right to be reacting the way she is. Her permanently happy, bubbly, optimistic and cheerful partner who always seems to be as energized as though they’d just had a gallon of coffee is now a pale ghost sitting statue-still, staring off into the void with eyes that look empty yet terrified simultaneously.

Y/N’s mouth falls open as though they want to say something but the words die out somewhere along the way, refusing to leave their mouth and give them the relief of sharing their pain with the only person they trust limitlessly. “I-...“ They finally manage to find their voice though their gaze is still avoiding hers, “I got a call from the correctional facility where....” They trail off, a bitter taste forming in their mouth, making their stomach turn and bite the inside of their cheek as they feel the urge to throw up start to become unbearable. “She wants to s-see me...”

They don’t need to say anything else, Rae’s already connected the dots and her complexion has gone just as pale as theirs. She knows how sensitive and triggering this topic is for Y/N, how many bad memories are tied to this one person in their life. To make matters worse, they’re the one person who was supposed to take care of them yet she couldn’t even take care of herself - Y/N’s mother.

Rae distinctly remembers the night Y/N told her the truth about their family life - or the lack thereof - almost a year since the two had started dating. Rae never questioned their secretiveness and respected their privacy enough not to ask about it, patiently waiting for them to tell her on their own time and own terms. It was no secret even from the very start that Y/N had a very hard time connecting to people and trusting them. It took them maybe two or so months to be able to call their now-girlfriend a friend instead of an acquaintance. Rae didn’t question that too, didn’t push to pursue a friendship with them since, from her point of view, they were already her friend, so she patiently waited for them to come around and start trusting her enough to accept her within their tightknit circle of trusted people called ‘friends’.

Things progressed from purely platonic to sweetly romantic a little more quickly which pleasantly surprised Rae. The two were quick to grow to be inseparable though that didn’t mean Y/N gave up all their secrets. The darkest one, which happens to be this one regarding their mother, is the one they hid the longest and the last one they had to share with their girlfriend. The night they did tell it was a very emotional one: plenty of tears were shed by both Y/N and Rae but luckily they had each other’s embrace to seek comfort in and protect themselves from the ghosts and demons of a past Y/N spent so much time running away from.

An abusive parent is not a bit of baggage you can just get rid of. It’s something that weighs so heavy on you and is such a big part of who you are that you can feel it as a part of you. It haunts you no matter how much you try to run or hide. It’s not something you can shake off or forget. You might have physical and visible scars from the time spent with said parent or the trauma can be entirely psychological - regardless, it lives within you. Follows you around, raises questions you’re not sure you want answered, degrades you - making it seem like what happened was your fault in one way or another - it destroys you slowly very time something triggers a memory of that time, be it a simple conversation that has nothing to do with the subject or be it the glimpse you accidentally catch in the mirror of a scar on your body - a scar you remember being inflicted on you like it was yesterday.

That’s how Y/N’s been living. Feeling responsible, feeling unloved, feeling chained to their past. They’ve done all in their power to appear unbothered and let it be visible, not even when around Rae since they don’t want to worry her.

But seeing as their past has caught up to them now and they inevitably have to face it, they’re forced to let it show, they couldn’t hold it in even if they tried. Although they don’t wanna play the unbothered, unfazed part any longer. They have been strong on their own for far too long and it’s taken a toll on them. If they keep up with the act, they’ll be completely and utterly crushed.

Not that they’re feeling any better at the moment.

“Stay with me, Y/N. Stay with me. Keep your eyes on me, ok? Take deep breaths. Deep breaths, baby. I’m here, I’m not going anywhere. It’s ok. You’re ok.“ Their short-circuiting brain has been spasming under the influence of the adrenaline, anxiety and panic brought on by the memories of every time they felt small and helpless while at the merciless hand of their alcoholic, drug addict abusive mother, begging to be spared the pain of being hit with whatever object the deranged woman could get her hands on - yet somehow, Rae’s voice still reaches them through all that messy dark fog. “Come on, Y/N, stay with me ok? Please don’t do this, I’m right here, there’s no need to be afraid,”

“I...“ they can barely hear their own voice over the racing of their heart, “I don’t...I don’t wanna go....“ is all they manage to say, a tear falling from their eye.

“It’s ok, we don’t have to go. We won’t go. Your mental health is the most important thing here, Y/N. We’re not going and that’s final.“ Rae replies vigorously, tightening her hold on Y/N’s hands.

Despite the state they’re in, Y/N can’t help but take notice of the use of the word ‘we’, Rae’s reminder that they are not alone, that she’s there for them and will not let them go into this alone. That brings a small smile to their face, calming their heart and panic ever so slightly, “N-no, I have to. It...it’ll help me.” They sigh before attempting to express themself again, “It’ll give me...closure, I guess.”

Seeing that Y/N’s doing a bit better, Rae’s hand move to cup their face instead, pushing the stray strands of hair away for their features to be full exposed to her, especially their eyes, “Are you sure you want that? Can you handle it? It’s not supposed to be your obligation, Y/N. I mean, the woman’s a monster and she hasn’t even thought to contact you in half a decade, and now she suddenly wants to get back in contact? She has the audacity to disturb you after all this time? You don’t have to agree to this, Y/N.”

Y/N shakes their head, “No, no, I want to. I want to agree to this. I want to live a normal life, Rae. I want to leave her and all she did to me behind. And I can’t do that if I keep running away. What happens when I stop to catch my breath? It still catches up to me like I made no progress whatsoever. That’s not a way to live, not the way I wanna live, at least.”

Rae nods slowly, fully understanding what Y/N is referring to. She maybe hasn’t said anything about it ever, but she’s always seen that little bit of darkness behind the happiness and excitement Y/N always displayed. Rae’s heart ached every time she caught glimpse of those little signs Y/N was putting on a performance while actually hurting on the inside.

And if a meeting with their mother was what would help them finally fully embrace a happy life, then who was she to stop them.

“Ok.“ The girl sighs, “Ok, we’ll go see her, but only if you’re 100% sure you’ll be able to handle it.“

They shake their head again, sighing with unease, “I can never be 100% sure, my emotions have a tendency of being unpredictable so I’ll just have to pray I don’t have a breakdown or a panic attack.”

Rae swipes her thumb over their cheekbone wiping the tear that just escaped their eye, “If you do, don’t worry, I’ll be right there. You know the drill: squeeze my hand, take deep breaths and most importantly, don’t forget I’m there for you. Ok?”

Y/N nods their head, the small smile reappearing on their face. They squeeze Rae’s hand and take a long inhale. “Hand squeeze, deep breaths, noted.” They say when their eyes meet hers, “Thank you so much, Rae. Thank you so much for putting up with me and all my shit and thank you so much for never giving up on me no matter how much work I am or how hard dealing with me and my demons becomes.”

Rae’s heart stings at Y/N’s words, tears brimming her eyes when she raises a bit on her knees to press her lips against Y/N’s forehead. “Don’t thank me, angel. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you and I never want to get gratitude for it. Love doesn’t ask for gratitude, and neither do I.”

Y/N lets out a small laugh to cover up an emotional sob that escapes their lungs. “I love you, Rae.” They say with a trembling voice.

“I love you too, Y/N.“

This time, the Y/N’s lips met the lips of their girlfriend, reminding themself that their safe haven isn’t a place, it’s a person - their girlfriend who means the world to them.

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bubble-tea-bunny · 3 years

Text

i could make you care

[saiki kusuo x reader]

author’s note: i tried to incorporate as many characters into this as possible to make it feel like an actual episode and i got overwhelmed so fast lol i haven’t written this many characters in a story in a long time. in any case hope i did them justice and that you enjoy :’)

word count: 3,029

Today’s morning is bright, and Saiki’s walk is quiet. Typically this would be no cause for concern. A quiet walk to school is few and far between, difficult to come by given the company he keeps. (He’d much prefer a calmer bunch, if he were granted the chance to choose, but that is neither here nor there.) Don’t misunderstand: he’d bask in this brief peace, guaranteed to be broken the moment he passes through the gates of PK Academy, if the reason for this uncharacteristic period of silence comes about because of the absence of one particular person—someone who, if one could hardly believe it, Saiki actually prefers to have around more often than not.

He walks past the street which leads to your home, his pace never slowing because he expects you’ll join him, as you do every morning. You’ll wait for him on the corner and smile widely like you haven’t seen him in weeks then skip towards him, falling in step easily. He’ll remain nonplussed as you hug his arm, give it a brief squeeze as you greet him—Good morning, Kusuo!—and then promptly let go because you understand he likes his space but you just can’t help but indulge a little bit.

However, none of the aforementioned events play out this Friday. You’re not on the street corner, not there to smile and fall in step with him. There’s no arm hugging or a bubbly greeting Saiki pretends he isn’t affected by. But the truth is that he is, the routine coming somewhat as a comfort, even at the price of sacrificing some of his beloved personal space. So when you’re nowhere to be found his brows furrow and he wonders where you are.

His steps slow until he comes to a complete stop. He wants to check up on you, sooner rather than later. There isn’t much time to delay if he wants to make it to school before the first bell, but this won’t take long. He crosses his eyes, activating his clairvoyance, and he centers in on you immediately. You’re still at home. You’re at home, and you’re sick.

A box of tissues rests on your nightstand and you’ve pulled your small trash can right next to it from where it usually stands by your door. You toss used tissues into it before nestling beneath your blankets, pulling it up to just below your chin and hugging it close in order to retain heat. Your breath evens out quickly and he can tell you’re asleep. Your body must be exhausted dealing with your cold, and he’s confident this is the way you will be the rest of the day—drifting in and out of sleep, dealing with the sniffles and congestion.

He blinks and loses sight of you and now he’s staring once more down the road. Readjusting his bag on his shoulder with a sigh, he resumes walking and thinks about his plans for the day. As it was the last day of the school week, he’d planned to go to Cafe Mami for coffee jelly to celebrate. But now that he’s learned you’re sick in bed, he’d have to make adjustments. Momentarily he debates if that’s really necessary. You probably wouldn’t want visitors in the state you’re in, and knowing you, you’d tell him to go to the cafe without you to enjoy himself anyway. The thought is tempting, truly, yet he can’t shake the urge to check on you.

It feels less like an obligation and more like a simple desire of his own to make sure you’re okay. Saiki shakes his head, more amused than frustrated. There’s no one else for whom he would so willingly do this, or much else, for, and he doesn’t think he’d ever tell you because you’ll tease him the way you are wont to do whenever his facade cracks and he’ll let you have your fun because when you ask if you’re really so different as to make him act this way, the answer is, well, yes. You are.

He imagines this scenario and the corner of his lips lifts in a small smile. Good grief. You could be quite the handful.

“Hey, Saiki!”

Nendo’s voice is entirely too loud for the morning and Saiki heaves another sigh, one that sounds as though it belongs at the end of the day and not the beginning. Nendo is joined close behind by Kaidou and Kuboyasu, and they easily fill the silence with discussions about going to get ramen after class and the latest movements of the Dark Reunion. Saiki really only picks up words here and there that allude to the topic of conversation but it doesn’t require his full attention. It’s the same song and dance every morning.

The commotion once he arrives at school is much the same. During lectures he is afforded the temporary reprieve from having his ears talked off, since the only one speaking is the teacher, but at breaks, the noise resumes, and though he always stays sitting at his desk, in hopes the others will get the hint that he’s uninterested in chatting, they inevitably crowd themselves around it, until he is right in the middle.

Hairo has outlined a new workout regimen and in his louder than normal volume of speaking he shares it. He’s going to start it today, and if anyone wants to join, they’re more than welcome. It doesn’t look like anyone wants to take the offer, which is expected. Hairo’s exercise routines were… a little extreme.

In any case, Hairo is nonplussed by the lack of enthusiasm from everyone else and remarks he can’t wait for the end of the school day.

“I think I’ve been losing muscle tone,” he laments, and he complements this statement with a casual flex of his arm, more so to point out the specific areas he thinks are getting soft rather than to show off, but even if he isn’t trying, his biceps are bulging and if his sleeves hadn’t been rolled up, they would have torn.

Saiki’s brow raises. Yeah… I don’t think that’s an issue for you, Hairo.

“I’ve just finished installing an indoor gym at my home, you know.”

Everyone turns to find Saiko has entered into the circle, a smug smirk on his face. When had he gotten here? Really it’s only Hairo who has any sort of reaction to this, eyes practically sparkling imagining the machines and equipment (or maybe that’s just the glare from the fluorescent classroom lights). All the same, Saiko relishes the attention, boasting of the privacy and space and how really, it’s so much easier to be productive if there’s no one else there but Saiki can only wonder if Saiko even works out at all. He doesn’t remember that being mentioned, and Saiki is nothing if not detail oriented.

Saiki doesn’t have long to ponder over this (not that it would’ve continued much longer because he doesn’t actually care about whether Saiko exercises or just set up a gym in his house to brag) before Nendo asks where you are.

Had he just noticed? You always join them on their walk in the morning. But Saiki can’t say he’s surprised it took this long. What he is surprised about is that Nendo had noticed in the first place.

“Oh that’s right,” Kuboyasu adds. “I thought she just went ahead of us today.”

Yumehara informs them of your whereabouts before Saiki does. “She texted me this morning she wasn’t feeling well so she stayed home.” Her phone dings with a new message and she glances at it, then looks back up. “But she says she’s a little more awake now!”

“It’s the Dark Reunion.” Kaidou’s sudden interjection draws everyone’s attention. He clenches his right fist, staring at the bandages wrapped around it. “They’re trying to get to me by going after my friends!”

Saiki remains expressionless but if he didn’t have such good control he would’ve rolled his eyes. Or maybe she just has a cold.

Upon Kaidou’s claim that a secret society is responsible for your illness, Saiki picks up Yumehara’s thoughts: I wish I was the one Kaidou was so worried about! Maybe if I got sick he’d worry about me too! Getting sick to grab Kaidou’s attention? That’s… going overboard, but Saiki can’t find it in him to be shocked, considering from whose mind this speculation has sprung.

“Poor [Name],” Teruhashi says, kind as always. She sets an index finger on her chin, gaze momentarily aimed upwards as she thinks. “I was about to suggest we all go to the cafe after school today and I wish she could join.”

This gives Saiki pause. Wait. The cafe?

“That sounds like a great idea!” Yumehara declares. Again Saiki hears her thoughts: If we go, I need to do my best sit next to Kaidou!

Whether a visit to Cafe Mami comes across as a good idea because it’s a fun way to celebrate the end of the school week or simply because Teruhashi suggested it, Saiki doesn’t know, but one by one the murmurs of assent resound through the group and he barely contains a relieved huff. He’d already changed his own plans from visiting the cafe to seeing you instead, and it’s a good thing too since it’s apparent his alone time would’ve been ruined. Now he has an excuse not to stick around.

Once the final bell rings, they begin their walk into town towards the cafe. The sidewalk feels crowded with all of them on it, and they have to split into pairs to keep the opposite side of the sidewalk free for people going the other way. Among comments from everyone else about how hungry they are, Saiki makes known his intention to just pick up food before leaving. There’s somewhere he needs to be.

“You’re going to go make sure [Name] is doing okay!” Teruhashi exclaims. It’s a statement, not a question. “That’s sweet of you.”

Saiki shrugs. “Sweet” is not the first word he would associate with his actions. It just seems like common sense to check on you. You’d looked miserable this morning, but he takes your message to Yumehara earlier as a good sign that you’re improving, slowly and surely. Still, he’d be more comfortable seeing you himself. He hadn’t gotten any other chances today to use his clairvoyance, but at least it wouldn’t be long now until he’d be heading to your house.

Chisato is working today and she seats everyone. Saiki goes directly to the counter to place his order—coffee jelly for him and strawberry mochi for you—and he stands off to the side while waiting for the treats to be packed. The others are sitting on the far side of the cafe (in his peripherals he sees Yumehara has taken a seat right next to Kaidou) but he can hear them clear as day discussing what food they should order. Yes, he’s certainly glad he won’t be sticking around. Spending Friday in the midst of that noise is far from ideal.

Holding the bag of coffee jelly and mochi in one hand, Saiki uses the other to push open the door, the bell jingling gently, and someone, Nendo it sounds like, raises their voice to shout across the room: Seeya later, Saiki! Then the door closes behind him, and all he can hear is the footsteps of other pedestrians and the low whoosh of cars.

He exhales slowly. Peace at last. He proceeds in the direction of your home, and when he thinks to himself that any longer and his ears might’ve begun to bleed, he’s only half joking.

In the neighborhood it’s much quieter, the only person he passes being someone walking their dog, and only a couple of cars drive past. He knocks on the door and he assumes you’re in your room and so it will take some time for you to open it, but you’re there faster than he expects. You open it just wide enough to stand in the gap, and immediately he notices the fatigue in your eyes. When you realize it’s him, they light up, and the fatigue fails to take away from the brightness of your smile as you open the door wider.

“Kusuo!”

Inside, he sees you’ve moved downstairs to the living room. That’s why you’d answered the door so quickly. There’s a pile of blankets on the couch and a tissue box on the coffee table. The television is on and playing an animation. He doesn’t recognize it, but it must be one of the new ones you mentioned wanting to watch. However, you’re not interested in it now that he's here and you grab the remote to turn down the volume.

“I thought you were going to the cafe today,” you state, head tilting.

Saiki shakes his head. Change of plans. Instead I brought the cafe to us. He holds up the bag of food and doesn’t have to tell you what’s in it. You squeal in delight that he’s come bearing treats, but the sound is a little raspy and awkward due to your sore throat. It’s still easier on Saiki’s ears than the earlier commotion he’d been surrounded with and, if he’s honest, it’s cute.

You plop down on the couch and wait as he joins you. He unties the bag and opens the box, first taking out the packaged pink mochi and handing it to you. Then he grabs his coffee jelly and the plastic spoon it came with before settling back against the cushions.

You sit cross-legged facing him and bite into your soft and squishy treat, humming delightedly. “Thanks, Kusuo.”

Saiki chews a mouthful of coffee jelly and glances at you.

You grin and hold up the mochi. “For the snack and for coming to see me.”

He shrugs because it’s no big deal. Or, well, he tries to play it off like it’s no big deal. But you know him better than that, better than most others do, and don’t brush it off so quickly. You breathe out dramatically and set a hand on your chest.

“What must I have done for Kusuo Saiki to give up his quiet time for me?” Then you giggle, and it’s punctuated at the end by a sniffle.

He tells you there would’ve been no quiet time at the cafe since the others had also decided to go, and that you’re much better company. Even when I’m sneezy? you ask him, and he chuckles. Yes, even when you’re sneezy.

His remark about coming to see you because he’d prefer to be here and not at the cafe with the rest of your friends is merely part of the truth. The rest of it is that he did genuinely want to check on you to make sure you were okay. Though to give this a voice felt like too much for someone typically so reserved in his feelings, but you understand perfectly fine as you smile softly. You’re appreciative of his actions, and it would seem Teruhashi had been right about them, for you murmur that he reminds you of the mochi you’re eating: You’re so sweet!

Grabbing your mug from the coffee table, you frown when you see it’s empty. “I ran out of tea.”

Saiki sets the spoon and now empty container back in the box then holds his hand out. You blink, momentarily confused, but when it registers what he’s doing, you give him the mug. As he stands to make his way into the kitchen, you call after him.

“Thank you!”

Having been to your house a number of times already, he knows where everything is and starts brewing a fresh cup of tea. You’ve turned the volume up on the television again, but you have to rewind to return of the spot you were at before he’d arrived. Once he comes back with a filled mug, instead of allowing it to continue to play, you pause your show.

You’d snuggled beneath the blankets and have to finagle your arms out of the multiple layers to take the mug from him. You say thanks again and blow gently at the tendrils of steam floating from it. The ceramic is warm in the palms of your hands and you sigh contentedly.

“Sorry I’m a little high maintenance today,” you apologize suddenly. “I’d make the tea myself but I just have such little energy…”

Saiki wishes you wouldn’t apologize because there’s nothing to be sorry for. So he tells you as much. Don’t apologize. Besides, he’d offered to make that tea, and if you wanted soup, he’d offer to make that too. He does understand where you come from, however. You tend to be more independent, opting to do things yourself, and you also know his propensity for being alone and needing space. As such, you’re careful not to be overbearing, and the idea of Saiki doing even little tasks like brewing you tea bothers you.

It’s endearing, the level of care you take to make sure he’s comfortable too, but when he says you’re far from high maintenance, he means it. You immediately understand what he’s implying and laugh before scooting closer and leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Okay, point made,” you concede. With a small smile, Saiki grabs the remote you’d tossed down on the couch and presses play.

He would struggle to call you high maintenance on any day considering who your friends are. They’re loud and all over the place, practically bouncing off the walls. Life could hardly be tranquil when around them and their antics. It’s the total opposite of Saiki, who values calm and silence. If they were high maintenance, he was low maintenance. That’s the way he prefers to be, existing in relative quiet and as close to mediocrity as he can muster. But he can't say he’s opposed to the occasional interruption to the otherwise mundane, especially where it concerns you. You’re not to be found on one side or the other, but right in the middle, and to Saiki, you are just right.

#saiki k x reader #saiki k imagine #saiki kusuo x reader #saiki kusuo imagine #saiki k #saiki kusuo #the disastrous life of saiki k.#bubble-tea-bunny #queue

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quietmyfearswith · 4 years

Text

with their little ; preferences

warnings — fluff (?) few hints at sexy times

characters — andy barber, steve rogers,ransom drysdale, bucky barnes, lance tucker, syverson, will shaw, august walker

a/n — THIS IS A DDLG FIC,, the characters will change depending on whether on how i see them fit the theme so yeah,, feedback appreciated

their love language

masterlist

“What are you up to, missy?” Andy asked as he noticed there was a presence who was looking at him as he was busy reading case files. “Nothing dada, I just miss you,” she mumbled as she played with sleeves of one of Andy’s sweatshirts that made her frame even smaller. “Why don’t you come over here then, baby,” Pushing away from the table, he patted on his thighs and turned his chair so he was now facing her. More than happy to oblige, Y/N excitedly crossed the short distance between them and plopped herself down comfortably on his lap. As if it was reflex, she instantly curled her arms around the lawyer’s neck whereas the bearded man circled his arms around her waist. “Are you done with your work dada?” She wondered, truth be told she had been wanting to spend some time with him, but understood well even when she was deep in little space how important it was that Andy remained undisturbed as he worked. Softly stroking her back he answered, “Not yet, baby.” Shoulders dropping, she started to unclasp her arms from where they were enjoying the warmth his body was radiating, “I’ll come back later then,” But as she was making her move to untangle from him he grabbed onto her tighter, “Where do you think you’re going, missy?” HIs fingers grazed her sides and tickled her, giggles erupting from her as she struggled to reply, “Don’t want to bother you work, dada.” Tucking a stray strand of her hair behind her ear, Andy lovingly looked at her, “Work can wait, baby, it’s time to spend some playtime with you.”

“What are you doing?” His voice startled Y/N as she turned to face August, smiling sheepishly hoping that she could charm him enough to distract him. “Hi daddy, how are you?” She greeted him sweetly to which August just curtly nodded, “Hi little one; I’m curious as to what you are up to that got you all messy,” he pointed to her face that was covered in color. Taking this as her cue, Y/N turned and handed him the artworks she was previously focusing on, “Made this for you, daddy; that’s why I’m all messy.”

August managed to mask his facial features from showing how his heart melted at the thought of his little one making two artworks — one that featured the two of them holding hands with hearts littering the background and the other one was just him with a couple of guns in front of room while the words “Greatest Agent, My Hero” written in a banner. “We better clean you up, little one,” Holding out his hand, Y/N was more than happy to take it up seeing how her daddy didn’t seem angry with her as he gently placed the drawing on the desk behind her. As the tub was filling up with water, August gently lifted up Y/N and placed her there, “Did you like my drawings, daddy?” She looked up at him with pure adoration laced with curiosity, and he could not prevent the coo from coming out as he voiced out his gratitude and appreciation for his little one’s creations, “Daddy loved your art, little one. You’re one talented girl, aren’t you?”

As Bucky entered his living quarters, he felt the stress of the day’s workout and training leave him. He dropped the gym bag that his metal hand carried while the other hand wiped the sweat of his forehead with a towel. “Sweetheart, are you in here?” As he called out for her, he heard her excited squeals accompanied by her feet hitting the floor, running towards him. Before he could warn her about how filthy he was, her arms were already wrapping themselves around his waist while her lips were pressing soft, small kisses against his neck. “Hi tătic, I missed you.” He chuckled at how clingy she was and just messed with her a bit as he teased, “I was only gone for a few hours, sweetheart.” She moved her face away from his neck as she pouted, “But you were gone for so long,” she dragged on the last word as if to prove how he took too long to come back to her.

“But I’m here now, sweetheart; have you been good for me?” As soon as the question left his lips, she unclasped her hold from him and sheepishly looked at him she mumbled a soft, “Maybe.” Having suspicions based on how she was acting, Bucky crossed his arms and looked at her, “What were you up to while I was gone, Y/N?” And the girl could only whine as she hated it when Bucky used her real name; but the super soldier knew by doing so he could get her to answer. “Tătic, I only baked you some cupcakes! I knew you were going to be hungry and wanted to make you something,” She confessed as she grabbed one of his hands and led him to the kitchen — where there were around a dozen cupcakes on the counter. Grabbing one, she offered Bucky one cupcake that had blue frosting in it with a huge smile, “Please don’t be mad, tătic.” Taking up her offer, he took the cupcake and tasted it, moaning at the taste he looked at her as he kissed her forehead, relishing in the giggles she let out, “I’ll let it slide how you broke the rules; only because you made such delicious cupcakes.”

With both his hands carrying paper bags, he shut the front door with his foot. Ransom then made his way up to the second floor of his house and went to the room he knew his princess would be cooped up in the study; as she was burying herself in a ridiculous amount of workload. “Princess, are you in here?” He knocked on the door, and when he heard no answer he went ahead and let himself in. The picture of her sitting on the swivel chair as her head and arms were on the desk as she slept greeted him. Setting the paper bags down by the couch, he kneeled down beside her and gently caressed her back. “Wake up, princess,” He quietly tried to wake her up. She mumbled a bit as she slowly opened her eyes, and once she did she smiled, “Hello, my king.”

Ransom could feel his heart swell double in size as she greeted him; planting his lips down on her nose for a kiss he inquired, “Were you busy with work again, princess?” Nodding, she lifted her head from where it was laying on the desk and sat up straighter while rubbing the sleep off her eyes, “Yes, my king, had a lot of deadlines.” Grabbing one of her hands, he planted a few kisses on her knuckles, “I saw how hard you were working, and thought that my princess deserved a reward,” he chuckled at how her eyes lit up and he pointed to where he put the bags, “Well maybe a few rewards.” Upon seeing how the bags were from her favorite brands and stores, she excitedly leapt out of her seat and launched herself to Ransom so she could hug him tight — the impact making Ransom fall on his bum, but he could only laugh at how she kissed every inch of his face she could get her lips on while repeatedly saying, “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Rubbing her back he could only hum, “Anything for you, princess.”

“Baby girl, come back here!” Sy’s booming voice echoed through the walls as he ran after his little girl who managed to sneak away as they both were preparing for bedtime. As she was running through the halls of their home, she was laughing at how she managed to get away past his bear-like grip. Hiding inside the coat closet, Y/N covered her mouth with both her hands as she listened to Sy as he voiced out his thoughts, “I wonder where my baby girl could be.” She heard his footsteps louder, hinting how he was nearby. When the sound was so clear she could also hear his even breathing, she knew he stood right outside the closet, “I know you’re in here, baby girl, I’m giving you one last chance to come out so you’re punishment won’t be too bad.”

As he opened the closet, Sy was surprised upon seeing how instead of standing on her feet to apologize; instead his troublemaker decided to crawl beneath his legs that were apart. Her giggles also made the Captain smile but he managed to put up his angry exterior as he grabbed Y/N by the waist and stood her up on her feet. “Now care to explain why you ran away when we were getting ready for bedtime?” With a brow lifted, Y/N knew there was no way she could talk her way out of it, so she dramatically sighed, “I’m sorry Captain, but I just don’t want to sleep yet.” Bringing her hands behind her back, Sy had a firm grip on them so she wouldn’t escape, “Well even though you don’t want to, baby girl, you have to.” She just whined as she turned her head to face him as she pouted to which the soldier just shook his head, “I’m sorry but you can’t charm your way out of this one, baby girl. In fact, I have to punish you for running off.”

“Papa, come look!” When Lance heard his angel call for him, he rushed to end his phone call with an event organizer. Setting his phone down on the accent table he then jogged up to their shared bedroom where he guesses she was at. “What’s wrong, angel?” He wonders as he enters without knocking, she then informs him that she’s in their walk-in closet. And when he does find his way in the closet, he chuckles upon seeing how his angel dressed herself up in his track jacket and pants, the sleeves of his jacket making her appear to have sweater paws. “What do you think, papa? Think I can be a gold medalist like you?” She questioned as she bent down to do a halfway lift as well as some stretches. Laughing at her silly antics, he tickled her sides which made her stand up and playfully hit Lance; but really it was the jacket that grazed his chest.

“What’d you hit me for huh, angel?” He feigned hurt as he pulled her close to him. Giving him a quick peck she sassed back, “What’d you tickle me for, papa?” He squinted his eyes as he teased her even more, “But angel you weren’t doing gymnastics! You were doing yoga!” Pushing away from Lance, Y/N then walked away with a strut, “Bleh, they’re all the same anyway.” Riled up from what she said he tackled her, causing her to land on her back, coming in contact with the soft mattress. “I guess I’m gonna have to show you how you do gymnastics huh,” Lance smirked at her.

“No peeking, doll,” Steve gently reminded her as he covered the sketchbook he was drawing on once he saw her eyes trying to catch a glance of what he was drawing. “Why not, sir? I just wanna see what you have,” she groaned out as she was drawing on her own sketchpad. “Because it ruins the surprise! Plus I’m excited to see what my talented girl came up with,” Steve said as he grabbed for his eraser and removed some of the minimal mistakes he made. Slumping back on her chair, Y/N now started to color her work, “What’s your favorite color, sir?” Placing down the fineliner he had before answering, “Blue, it’s such a calm color. Also you can use it to portray emotions; you can use it to portray sadness or display tranquility.”

She nodded as he ended his explanation, she opted for the blue color to be the main color for her drawing. The next half hour they were silent as they sat across from each other and focused on their work. “I’m done, sir!” Y/N excitedly declared as she placed the sketchbook down on the table, “As am I, doll,” Steve said as he smiled, “Why don’t you show yours first?” LEtting out a huff to show how he didn’t want to go first, Steve just looked at her pointedly which made her comply, “Okay, sir,” She lifted up her work to show her artwork where she had drawn the two of them inside their house where they are sat together with the words “Best Day with Daddy.” “That’s absolutely good, doll! Those are my best days too, the ones with you.” She felt her chest swelling with pride, “Let’s see yours!” He proceeded to show her his work — a portrait of her. “I drew you, doll, because you’re the prettiest dame I’ve ever seen.” Making grabby hands a him, Steve chuckled as he made his way to her to lift her from her seat, carrying her to the kitchen, “You’re welcome too baby, I’d love to snuggle more with you but we’re on a tight schedule,” This comment made Y/N peer up at Steve, silently asking what he meant, “We need to prepare our dinner doll, we’re having that picnic remember?”

“What’s that, munchkin?” Will wondered as he saw Y/N walk towards him with the iPad on her hand. “Wanted to show you something, bubba; If you’re not too busy,” she cautiously said while approaching him. Patting his thighs, she motioned for him to come, “I always have time for you, munchkin.” With that she then giddily sat down on his lap, “What did you want to show me?” Once he asked that, Y/N unlocked the iPad and showed him a 360 degree view of the interior of the museum, “Wanna go here, bubba.” Will took a peak of the place, humming he pried, “You wanna go away for a vacation huh?”

Nodding, Y/N then explained, “I think a vacation might do us good, bubba. You’re stressed and I missed my fun bubba.” Will then realized that he was in fact quite often buried in work; he was also then thankful about how patient his girl had been with him. “You’re absolutely right, munchkin! We do need to go out and take some time off,” the girl on his lap then excitedly clapped her hands and squealed in excitement. “And what’s this about missing fun bubba? I’ll have you know he never left,” And to prove his claim, he then tickled her sides. This then prompted the start of their playtime — Y/N scrambling to move out of Will’s lap as he her bubba chased her around the house, laughter and joy filling up the place.

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raelikestoramble · 3 years

Note

yesssss, I'm still trying to recover from the finale... Can you do an story w Eddie pining for Buck after his break up w Ana? Like he releaized his feelings for Buck after getting shot and almost dying but Buck is together w Tyler? Please and thank youuuu

AN: Sorry, this got away from me and I wrote more than I thought I would! Thanks for the great prompt, I really loved it but wasn’t sure where to take it, so a lot of this is Eddie’s internal thoughts. Hope you still like it!

Eddie hadn’t meant for it to go on for as long as it did. Truly, he hadn’t – time had a funny habit of slipping away from him as of late; in his recovery, what mattered most to him was getting himself back to normal – or as close as he could ever return to, given what he had been through – and keeping life as stable as possible… for Christopher. No big changes, no upsetting surprises.

That thought did little to ease the lingering sense of guilt, though.

It had been only a few days since Eddie finally sat Ana down to, as delicately as he could, say that their time together was coming to a close.

She had been so lovely about it, too, because that was her nature and it had made having to break it off worse, almost. Ana was kind, sweet, understanding – perfectly nice – and, for all those reasons, she deserved better, a lot more; someone who was completely in it for her, as invested in her as she was in them. He didn’t always realise it, but he knew for a while before he broke it off that he couldn’t be that person for Ana. In time, another would be. He was sure of it.

He had felt, much to his embarrassment, tears burning his eyes as he explained to her that he entered a relationship with her for the wrong reasons… and that he had so much to figure out about himself. She had clasped his hand in hers, gave a watery smile, and told him that she understood; she had even reassured him that it was all okay and he didn’t need to be too hard on himself over it. It was the most amicable split he could’ve imagined happening. With guilt, came the sweetness of relief, an acute light feeling that he didn’t notice was missing for the longest time.

And then, once that was over and the dust had settled… he was free. Free to… wallow, he supposed, in what he had realised weeks ago, because there was nothing that Eddie could do about it.

He remembered how it felt, being disoriented, in pain, slipping from consciousness, with those blue eyes boring into his, wide and frantic, as Buck fought hard for him, for his very life. How it felt afterwards seeing his face come into view from around the corner, smiling at him with such a genuine and unfiltered joy. Warmth, safety, and happiness – because Buck was family, that much he had decided to make official in a legal tie a year ago.

It was the overwhelming feeling of love, and relief in seeing him safe, unharmed and by his side the first chance he got, that sent Eddie’s mind reeling and down a path he couldn’t back out from. Buck was all of that to him, and more, and the feeling of longing had burrowed into Eddie’s mind, becoming a nagging and persistent sensation that made him feel… sick, flustered, and even morose.

Love – romantic and sexual love - for Eddie had always been a struggle, had wound up feeling oddly… unnatural, as though he was following the expectations of others, or his own idea of familial obligation, rather than his own heart. He was chasing something that, by all accounts, should have felt right, but with Ana… and even with Shannon, it was wrong; it all fell flat in some way. Finally becoming aware of the different light in which he saw Buck in was like a piece of himself just clicking into place; he felt whole, finally.

It was more than a little inconvenient, though, realising that he was in love with his best friend… someone that he happened to see pretty much every day, either at work or off shift. His very straight, very happily coupled up best friend. It was a lot to wrap his head around.

Of course, Eddie was being very mature about it, something he could find a small bit of pride in – because he knew he needed to get over this, to respect Buck’s happiness, his relationship with Taylor, and not ruin their friendship by foolishly expressing what he really wanted. That was the respectable, adult thing to do. So, he kept his desire quiet, and he tried his best to be the good, supportive friend Buck knew him to be, but… in a small way, he had pulled back; he knew he had. Sometimes, Eddie was allowed to act to protect himself; allowed to be a touch selfish. To get over it, he needed a bit more space than usual. It was only fair.

“Eddie,” came Hen’s voice unexpectedly; he picked up instantly on the concerned undertone.

From the corner of his eye, he could see her furrowed brows and the frown lines on her face. He wished people would stop looking at him like that – like he was to be pitied, like he was still injured and helpless. The whole team all went through their fair share of ordeals… it seemed part of the job description, but there was something about the sniper targeting them that unnerved everybody more than anything else that they had faced before. It had struck Eddie’s core, too, and brought up a lot of ugly, old wounds - he was giving therapy another try because of it… and it was going better than it had before, to his surprise.

It had been months since he was shot, significant progress had been made, but there was still an unspoken tension in the firehouse at times. It was especially bad with Buck – he had pulled closer than ever, always happy, eager even, to offer his support and help in… everything, which made Eddie’s need for maintaining some space between them all the more difficult. It also gave him a sliver of hope, and that was a dangerous thing. He had grown too dependent on Buck; he had someone else to share him with now, he thought with a pang to his chest.

“Yeah?” he returned tiredly after a delay, still staring ahead.

His gaze was fixed on where Buck was sat a small distance away with Chimney by his side, his head thrown back laughing in a moment that ought to be captured in a photograph – oh, and how that beautiful, jubilant sound leaving his mouth twisted mercilessly at Eddie’s insides.

“You’ve been moving that piece of pasta around your bowl for the last ten minutes.”

“… So I have,” he sighed, letting his fork clatter against the plate in defeat.

He’d barely touched his lunch, but his appetite had been culled. Buck’s voice was loud – it carried effortlessly across the room. So, he easily overheard Buck responding to Chimney bringing up the topic of Taylor, and it was… embarrassing, the impact it had, how easily it soured his mood.

“Is that all I get? It’s ‘going well’?” Chimney exclaimed, nudging Buck’s side, a teasing grin on his face. “C’mon, Buckley. We usually can’t get you to shut up.”

Buck laughed bashfully and lifted his head up, almost catching his eye, but Eddie averted his gaze just in time to miss it. He could’ve sworn that he caught the sight of Buck’s smile faltering. He shook his head, working to tune out that conversation as best he could.

“You know… it’s okay to need more time. If you’re not ready to be back yet, no one will think less of you,” Hen suggested hesitantly, voice soft.

“No, it’s-- not that. I’m glad to be back. This is where I need to be,” he said simply.

Eddie didn’t like where this conversation was headed – but none of it broke through to his expression, and so Hen pushed on, sympathy etched into her features.

“Then… tell me what’s bothering you? You seem down, Eddie – a lot, lately – and I can’t sit here and act like I’m not worried.”

Had it really been that obvious? It was like he, a man in his thirties, had been rendered a hapless, lovestruck teenager – with how he let his feelings for Buck affect him so obviously that Hen had not only noticed but grown worried for him. It was so tragic he could almost laugh.

“Mm, I have a therapist for that,” he said with a wry smile, but instantly regretted it as he saw how Hen leant back in her seat, lips twisting into a frown.

She was trying to help, to be a good friend, and he was dismissive of her attempt right away. His tendency to try to avoid more heavy, emotional talks was one of the issues brought up in therapy and he really was working on it, but it felt impossible, in that moment, to tell the truth, to speak the words aloud to somebody else. Even though he knew Hen would, without a doubt, understand and keep his secret for him – that it might even help for her to know, as awkward and humiliating as it might be at first.

“Sorry. I just…”

“Don’t worry about it.”

He dared to look back over to the corner where Buck was – now, he was showing Chimney pictures on his phone, which were undoubtedly of him and Taylor. Jealousy welled up inside of Eddie, burning hot, and another sigh fell from his lips as he lifted a hand to run down the side of his face. It wasn’t getting easier, only more frustrating.

When he glanced back at Hen, she was already watching him, an odd look on her face, eyes slowly widening. Realisation had already dawned before he could interject and divert the conversation.

“Wait. You-- Buck--?” she started.

Panic enveloped Eddie and, before she could go any further, he abruptly sprang to his feet, hands clasped together.

“Coffee?” he asked loudly.

Without waiting for her to give an answer, he made his escape, darting over to the countertop where the coffee pot was located. After a short pause, he noticed that Hen had made no effort to follow him, because – of course she hadn’t. What was he expecting? Her to run after him, get him into a headlock until he confessed to the revelation that he had that he was head over heels for Evan Buckley? No, this wasn’t a playground. He needed to get a grip.

His shoulders slumped as he expelled a heavy breath out into the air. He gave himself another moment, to allow his heart to stop pounding wildly in his chest, before leaning up to grab a clean mug from the cabinet.

“That was awful,” he muttered to himself, swiping his favourite from the shelf.

“What was awful?” asked Buck, suddenly, appearing at his side.

“Oh, God,” Eddie jumped, and the mug almost slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor.

Catching it and clutching at it, Eddie gave a breathless laugh.

“Nope, just me,” Buck countered, popping the ‘p’, with a toothy grin on display that caused Eddie’s stomach to start doing flips. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

Eddie’s expression softened, the hints of anxiety vanishing from his face as he lowered the mug to the surface. He reached for another, automatically, eyes still on Buck. He really was beautiful to look at, all bright, excited eyes, soft dark blonde curls, and crooked smiles – and what was most unfair about it all was that his good looks weren’t the most beautiful thing about him by a long shot.

“I’ll let you off the hook,” he grinned.

Buck leaned forward and his shoulder brushed against Eddie’s, sending a jolt through him that made him step back, the contact quickly lost. Fortunately for him, Buck didn’t seem to have noticed anything.

“So, anyway, I was wondering – you got any plans tonight?” Buck asked cheerily.

Eddie was slow to smile again, but he did, because he knew what he was about to do – give in, so easily. Space was important, but… so was spending quality time with loved ones. He could practically hear his therapist’s voice offering him encouragement.

“I think I have a spot open in my schedule,” he said slowly, giving the impression of nonchalance.

“Great! What do you say to joining me and Taylor out for drinks tonight? You could bring Ana. I think it’d be good for them to start to get to know each other better, don’t you?”

Eddie’s heart sank in his chest, eyes closing for a few seconds before he plastered a placid smile to his face. Disappointment was such a bitter taste, and… he really needed to get around to telling him about Ana. Even if he and Ana were still together and he could agree to this double date, the thought of watching Buck and Taylor together for a whole night… well, he could think of a long list of things he’d rather do instead.

“Actually, I don’t think I can – I don’t know how it slipped my mind but, after my appointment, I promised Christopher that I’d spend the night with him…”

He felt bad using his own son, someone Buck loved dearly, as a shield, but it had to be done – Buck wouldn’t question anything if it was done for Chris’ benefit.

Buck’s smile strained, and there was a look in his eyes that Eddie couldn’t quite place. He dropped his gaze to the floor, and Eddie caught his lower lip between his teeth.

“Well, what about next Friday?”

“I can’t—”

“Man, I… Eddie, have I done something?” Buck interrupted; brows knit together in worry.

“Sorry?”

He looked vaguely embarrassed – and was that a pink tinge to his face? Surely not. No, Eddie was seeing things he wanted to see. He didn’t want to play that guessing game anymore, reading into every little interaction they shared, for some kind of sign. It was exhausting.

“It’s just… I don’t know, you’re a lot busier than before, maybe, but things are definitely… different. I—miss you,” he admitted sheepishly.

Clearly, this had been bothering him for a while now, and Eddie felt stupid and cruel for ever thinking that Buck wouldn’t notice that he was limiting their time together, even if only by a relatively small amount.

“Things are different,” Eddie explained carefully, trying to figure out his wording. “It makes sense that we, er, aren’t spending as much time together, because…”

Buck waved a hand.

“I know I’ve got Taylor now and you’ve got Ana, but that doesn’t mean that—”

“Buck, I ended things with Ana,” Eddie cut across impulsively.

There was an incredibly still moment that followed, and a tense quiet descended upon them, the only sounds the muffled comings and goings and odd background chatter from their other teammates. Buck’s lips parted and he appeared to be frozen as he slowly computed this information, and Eddie was almost scared to move – to break the spell.

It was getting alarming, and Eddie was about to wave a hand in front of his face, until finally he returned to reality, snapping back with a quiet and bemused, “Wait, you did what? … Why? You two seemed so happy. I thought you… that’s why…”

Eddie shifted uncomfortably, taking in a breath as he turned to properly face Buck again, making direct eye contact. Buck wet his lip, a crease forming in his brow. Eddie wanted nothing more than to know what was going through his mind, but he was at a loss this time. Usually, he could read him so well.

Eddie shrugged – an attempt in vain to still appear casual. He knew he was way beyond that point now.

“I realised she wasn’t the one for me. And… I know everyone says it, and us first responders more than anyone, and we still sometimes forget to actually live by it… but life really is too short to spend with the wrong person. I owed it to her, and to myself, to end it.”

Buck blinked rapidly, and, really, Eddie couldn’t understand why this was all coming as such a shock to him. Had he really expected he and Ana to go the distance? For him to settle down with her?

“Eddie…”

“Yeah?”

Then, the wailing of the siren pierced through the air; whatever question had formed in Buck’s mind would have to remain there, until another time.

#buddie #buddie ficlet #buddie fic #911 spoilers #eddie diaz #henrietta wilson #evan buckley #911 fox #answered prompt

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violet-knox · 3 years

Text

The Family Secret

Chapter 1: Spinner’s End

Pairing: Young!Snape x Reader

Summary: Excited for your summer break, you make plans with Severus to visit him at Spinner’s End. Nervous about your visit, Severus does everything he can to make your stay delightful, but nothing goes as planned when his father comes home early from work.

Word count: 6951

Warnings: Implied child abuse (not explicit)

A/N: It’s been such a long journey finishing this story up. Things did not go as planned when I signed up and there were times I didn’t think I’d manage to finish it. But here we are, and I’m so happy I pushed through.

This story has 5 chapters and since I didn’t plan anything for Sev’s birthday, I thought I’d make it up by posting the first (and longest) chapter today. The next chapter will be posted on Wednesday the 13th and after that, I’ll be posting one chapter every Saturday in January, the final chapter posted on the 30th. It was a pleasure to participate in the @snapebang and I hope everyone enjoys it!

He could still remember the first time he’d told you about his home on Spinner’s End. You’d only been dating two weeks and he had no obligation to tell you anything about his life, but he just couldn’t help himself. He’d been hoping for so many years to find someone like you, someone he could care for that would return the gesture. Someone he could love, trust and he did. He’d found you and there was no one else in this world he would ever trust more than you. Perhaps that was why he told you where he lived after you said you lived in Cokeworth as well, knowing the reputation Spinner’s End had built for itself. Lily had never cared for his family’s financial status, but her sister had, as did the majority of those he’d meet. He was afraid you’d react the same way, that once again his parents would ruin yet another good thing in his life, but you didn’t. You didn’t even hesitate to smile. But if you’d told him back then what you’d asked of him now, he would have questioned your knowledge on the reputation Spinner’s End carried and reconsidered telling you about his upbringing.

Filthy, poor, loathsome, shameful, pathetic; those were the words he and many others would have used to describe his home, yet you seemed completely oblivious to those characteristics. You didn’t care about how small he claimed it to be. You brushed away his own distaste for the place and his offer to take you somewhere else. You simply asked again: Can I come over this summer?

The answer was much simpler than he’d made it out to be in his mind: Yes, but you shouldn’t. Yet he could only imagine the hurt in your eyes if he’d responded that way. He knew you’d understand if he explained, but you’d already tolerate so much of his own burdens. Who was he to ask you to carry anymore? In all honesty, he was surprised you’d stuck around this long after everything you’d seen at school. The way he was treated by others; like a filthy raccoon who wouldn’t stop trespassing on their property. You should have run for the hills the second you got a glimpse of who he was, but you didn’t. You stayed by his side and yet, despite everything you’d been through, he still questioned your loyalty. It was as if the moment you understood where he came from, the moment you’d seen his home, who his father was, you’d abandon him like everyone else before you.

It seemed however, that no matter what he’d say, no matter how hard he’d try, you’d always find your way back to him to put his heart back together. He loved your loyalty to him, your compassion for him. He loved everything about you and only a fool would shun the insurance you offered him of your expectations for Spinner’s End.

“Severus, if you don’t want me here, I understand,” you said as you followed his lead down the street of Spinner’s End. Reservation still lingered in his chest and judging by your tone of voice, you were certainly aware of it. He was nervous more than anything. Yes, his father was away for the weekend and his mother never bothered to care for his presence anyways, but he still couldn’t help the dread in the back of his mind. Bringing you home was a risk, one that could end your relationship if you hadn’t been sincere about your views of his family.

“N-no! I do, it’s just-” He paused and squeezed your hand as he looked away. “My house- where I live… It’s not what you imagine and my parents- they aren’t exactly the best of people.”

You’d seen him distressed before, the sorrow in his eyes when Lily cut ties with him, the anguish he went through when James and Sirius continued their harassments at school after the Whomping Willow incident. But you’d never seen such disappear written on his face before, as if he was preparing to lose something he held dear. You’d never meant to cause such emotions when you’d asked to come over for a few hours, but if you’d known the stress he felt now, you would have buried the thought deep in your mind, never to see the light of day and save him the hurt he felt bubbling inside him now.

The way he tightened his hold on you made you feel all the more guilty. This was supposed to be a pleasant evening and Severus was acting as though you held a gun to his head. But you knew that once you’d entered his house and shown him you couldn’t care less about his living situation the mood would lighten.

“You know I don’t care for that. Your home and your parents will never change how I feel about you,” you said, pulling his arm closer to your chest. Your words had the exact effect you’d intended as you felt the tension in his muscles release. His shoulders dropped slightly, but his hand tightened its hold on yours.

Turning his head, Severus looked into your eyes and felt the assurance you offered seep into his recurring horrendous thoughts of abandonment. He always felt so safe with you, assured of the exclusion of the terrors the world offered when he was around you. As much as he hated to admit it, you were his rock, he couldn’t live without you and that was precisely why he feared your visit to his house. Why would he risk losing someone as important as you? And for what? A glimpse into his sad childhood on Spinner’s End?

Nothing was worth losing you and if protecting his relationship with you meant you’d never meet his parents or step foot on Spinner’s End then so be it. He could live with hiding his past. He could learn to move on, he wanted nothing more than to move on, but he knew he’d never be able to find anyone as thoughtful or as loving as you.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” you offered, watching him hesitate to climb up the first step of stairs leading to the front door. “We can turn around and head to a park or something.”

You couldn’t stand how uncomfortable he looked. You didn’t want to see him like this, your heart aching as his hands shook, stuffing them into his pocket, clumsily searching for his keys. He was like a delicate, expanding bubble, ready to pop at any moment, exploding into a mess of emotions and you couldn’t bear seeing him in such a state.

“No,” he said softly, retrieving his keys from his pocket. “We can stay.”

Stretching out his hand, offering it to you, he took another step towards the door, watching you slide your fingers against his palm, gripping him tightly as you stepped forward as well. As much as he would have liked to take you up on your offer, he knew he couldn’t back out now because he knew exactly why you wanted to come over in the first place. Curiosity was a trait you’d never tried to hide and one that made itself more apparent the closer you got as a couple. You wanted to know everything about him because it made you feel closer. You wanted to trust him, to know him better than anyone else ever had. He could see your hurt when he told you about Lily, how much he’d wanted to share everything with her, how he thought she understood him, so he knew you’d want nothing more than to gain his trust enough to share everything with you.

Slowly, he put the key into its lock and turned it, opening the door to his childhood, his summer prison. Everything he hated about himself was all stored under one roof, all about to be exposed to you. There were no words to describe the hatred he felt for this place, Lily being the only reason he had to look forward to returning every summer but as she broke off their friendship, his willingness to withstand this house sizzled away, leaving him with nothing but animosity. And then he met you. You were his new light, a clean breath of air amongst the smoky darkness surrounding him. You were his new reason for withstanding Cokeworth and Spinner’s End. Withstanding another summer under this roof was only made bearable by the thought of you existing within the same vicinity.

The smile you wore on your face as you followed him, stepping within the threshold of his less than desirable home eased him a little and he wondered if you’d intended to appear happy simply because you knew how much it soothed him. You were always canny like that, catching onto his likes and desires faster than he was willing to admit, but it didn’t bother him. He was grateful for it and only wished he could return the favour.

“It’s nice,” you said to him as he closed the door behind you. Any expectations Severus had given you were shot the moment you stepped inside, the walls bare, a singular couch and armchair squeezed into the shoe box sized sitting room. The couch was old, probably as old as the house judging by the chipped drywall and the worn-out floors. It faced the ashy fireplace which seemed to endure the same negligence Severus had said he’d felt over the years. The armchair’s cushion dipped in the middle as if an invisible being was sitting on it, the arms themselves scuffed from the ends. The only decor you could find was a singular picture frame of a couple you could only assume were his parents that looked as though it had been gathering dust for a while.

“You’re not being truthful,” he replied bluntly as he let go of your hand. He took a look around the room and sighed. No matter how much he tried, there was no way he could have made the place presentable for you, but at least he’d managed to clean the floors of any broken shards of glass or stains left behind by whatever it was his father had decided to leave around the armchair.

“The way you were describing it, Severus, I would have thought you lived in a dustcart.” You turned to face him instead of the room, placing your hands over his arms to get his attention. His hair was already over his face, his insecurities spilling out of him and you’d barely been here ten seconds. The house was quiet at least and you knew if you just sat down a while, he would get used to the idea of sharing his space with you.

Severus’ gaze seemed to be fixed on the scenery behind you, so you slowly moved your hands up his arms and onto his shoulder, one reaching up to gently hook under his chin, encouraging him to break free of whatever horrible trance he was under. Your eyes finally met yet he still wouldn’t let go of the fear buried deep in his chest.

“Sev, I love you,” you spoke softly, entwining your fingers in his hair, taking a step closer to him. Severus leaned into you, your touch a comfort he could find nowhere else. The tension in his shoulders started to ease until he realized he’d forgotten to thoroughly wash his hair today. His hand jerked up to remove yours from the shameful oily mess on his head, kicking himself for forgetting something so trivial. Already this day was going downhill, and he could only imagine the treachery that would follow.

“Can we sit down?” You asked when you felt his hand on your wrist, pulling you away. You could tell he was still so uncomfortable and a part of you had begun to wonder if it was really his home he was ashamed of or if it was you.

Severus, unaware of your own worries, slowly nodded his head, turning towards the couch, inviting you to sit beside him. His actions were almost robotic; one foot after the other, his legs bending enough to sit in his seat. He wasn’t sure what to do next, or rather, he wasn’t sure if you were disgusted by what you saw and were just too kind to say anything. He wouldn’t blame you if the next thing you did was ask to leave. In fact, he’d sort of expected it to happen at some point, he just had no idea when you’d ask.

“Severus?” Your voice seemed so distant, like you weren’t actually here and for once, he hoped that was true. Your scent however, the glimpse of your face in the corner of his eyes told him otherwise. “Sev, if you’re worried about me don’t be. I’m fine with your home, I really am.”

Severus looked down to find your hand on his knee, your thumb slowly rubbing circles into his trousers as a way of comforting him. His lips gently twitched into the subtlest of smiles, his hand overlapping yours as he looked at you with softened eyes. He nodded his head in understanding and found himself silently thanking you and everything you were. Your presence, your joy, your mere existence was all a gift he was lucky to have received.

“I-I can make tea,” he offered, hoping it would ease the tension around you both. You nodded your head and he got up from his spot, asking you to stay where you were, Merlin forbid you see another inch of this disgraceful prison.

Severus creaked open the door that led to the rest of the house enough for him to slip through, quickly closing it after he stepped inside so you wouldn’t see your vision wouldn’t be tainted with any more of his embarassing life. He hastily made his way to the kitchen where he found his mother sitting near the window reading yesterday’s paper, likely stolen from the neighbour’s bin as she smoked what he guessed was her third cigarette today judging by the time.

Opening the cupboards, he found the old rustic kettle and filled it up with water before digging for the matches and lighting the flame on the stove. He left the kettle there as he went back to find two clean cups. He’d opened all the cupboards in the kitchen before looking around countertops. He found two mugs, both dirty on the kitchen table, but one was chipped to the extent he was sure you’d noticed, so he cleaned the acceptable one and continued his search. Waving his wand, he watched the ditry mug levitate to the sink where it began cleaning itself. Looking back around the kitchen he found another mug on the countertop of the window, used as an ashtray.

“Mum, can I use that mug?” He asked her, hoping she was in a well enough mood to simply wave him her approval. He watched with anticipation as she took another puff of her cigarette, acting as if he wasn’t even there. This was rather usual for her, but unfortunately for him, it meant she wasn’t in the mood to be disturbed.

“Why?” She asked, keeping her eyes on her paper as she blindly tapped the end of her cigarette into her makeshift ashtray.

“I-I have a friend over and I wanted to make tea.” He paused and watched her eyes move from one side of the page to the other. “I’d asked you yesterday if it was alright for her to come over and you said it was.”

Sometimes he wondered if she cared more about her smoke breaks than she did him because it was moments like this where she’d pay more attention to those sticks of tobacco than she would her own son that had him questioning her priorities. The cigarette hung from her lips as she turned the page, staring at him like he’d said something damning.

“A friend? Didn’t that Evans girl stop speaking with you last year? And why on earth would you want to bring her here of all places?” She suddenly seemed very interested in his evening plans when he’d explained to her multiple times over the last few days he was planning to have you over. But why would he ever expect her to listen when she’d done nothing of the sort the last 17 years. He in fact, could hardly remember a time where she’d managed to hold even half a conversation with him.

“Why do you care?” He snapped back at her. Frustration rose to his mind, his face turning red with anger. She had no right to question his personal life. She had no right to speak to him like he wasn’t worthy of speaking to other human beings.

His expression hardened when he locked eyes with her, watching her take another drag of her cigarette as her lips stretched into an ugly frown. Tossing her newspaper in the direction of the bin, each page flying around, landing all over the floor, she put out her cigarette in the mug before pushing it with her index finger so it fell off the windowsill.

“Clean that up,” she commanded lazily, easing off from where she sat and dragged her feet along the floor to the door. “And I suggest you see your friend out before your father gets home.”

He didn’t take his eyes off her until she was completely out of sight, heading up the stairs, the house whining in agony with every step she took. Storming to the door, he closed it roughly, immediately regretting it when he remembered you were in the sitting room waiting for him. It was then he’d realized the kettle had been whistling, steaming angrily before he removed it from the stove and turned it off. He looked to his side where the broken pieces of the mug mixed with the ashes of his mother's cigarette. With a sigh, he took out his wand and wove it over the area, trying to focus on the task at hand, putting aside his feelings towards his parents.

He’d been so used to locking himself in his room or storming out of the house, returning when it was pitch black after interactions like that, but he couldn’t do that this time and it threw him off. He had to get back to you, get back to the safety of your bubble. At least with you, he could stand to be in this house, he could bear the backlash of his mother and the miserable life he led here.

The mug put itself back together and he picked it up to examine it. He’d gotten rather good with this spell after he’d begun taking every broken dish, jar or whatever else his parents felt like breaking that day back to Hogwarts and fixing it the second he was allowed to do magic again. Turning seventeen was one of the best gifts he’d ever been given. No more restrictions, no more rules. He was able to do magic freely now and it had saved him more than once this summer, apparting away if they ever got too loud, cleaning his room faster than he’d ever previously managed. It kept him connected to his real home, even if he was miles away.

Placing the mug in the sink, he washed and dried it, stopping the spell he’d previously cast and set aside the dishes for now. He walked over instead to the mess his mother had made and wove his wand over it to vanish the ash and newspaper. Finally, he made earl grey tea and even managed to find some biscuits to go along with it. His smile slowly began to return as he made his way back to you, opening the door with one hand as he carried the tray of treats in the other. Placing it on the coffee table in front of the couch, he took his seat next to you.

“Sorry, we don’t have any cream but there’s sugar if you like,” he said, gesturing to the small jar next to the cups. Your lips twitched into a smile as you watched him pick up the jar and unscrew its lid. He put two teaspoons of sugar into his tea before looking over his shoulder to see if you wanted any.

“One is fine. Thank you Sev,” you motioned to him. He gave both cups a quick swirl before picking them up and handing yours to you. He sat back on the couch and looked down at the liquid swirling in circles, the awkwardness settling back into place before you spoke, thoughts of the consequences he feared to face for bringing you here returning to him.

“Is everything alright Sev? I heard something breaking while you were in there,” you said, nodding your head towards the door he’d just emerged from. You didn’t want to push or make assumptions, but Severus had told you his father was at work, which meant the footsteps you heard heading up the stairs not long before he returned to you were his mother’s. He’d barely ever spoken to you about her, but you knew he wasn’t too fond of either of his parents. You were never one to pry on someone else's personal life, but with Severus it was different. You cared so deeply for him, you wanted to know everything, the good and the bad. But common dignity stopped you from asking him before about his family, hoping if you were patient, he would eventually trust you enough to share everything without you having to ask.

“It was nothing, I just dropped one of the mugs, but I managed to put it back together,” he lied, looking away to take a sip of his tea. He kept his eyes on his cup as he lowered it, his hair defensively falling into position over his face. You noticed his gaze dropping and knew there was more to what he was telling you. Your shoulders fell in disappointment as you realized today was not the day he’d open up to you. But you had to look on the bright side, he trusted you enough to bring you to his home and you’ve been here a full ten minutes without him trying to push you out.

“So, will I get a tour later?” You smirked as you took a sip of your own tea. “Will I get to see your room?”

“Why do you want to see my room?” He asked, confused at your odd request. Your smirk didn’t help matters either. He was now unsure of how serious your question was.

Sliding closer to him, you bit your bottom lip, unable to suppress your growing smile. It was absolutely adorable when he wouldn’t understand some of your hints. The way his brows would furrow, his eyes shifting like a lost puppy unable to comprehend where he was. “Well, wouldn’t you want to see my room if you came over?”

You couldn’t help but let out a chuckle when you saw his eyes light up with understanding, a sly smirk of his own appearing on his lips, his cheeks tinting a light shade of pink. “I suppose. But my room isn’t really anything worth seeing. It’s small and cramped. I keep everything worth keeping in my trunk. Honestly, the dorms back at Hogwarts are more appealing.”

“I don’t care how it looks,” you said, placing a hand on his knee in comfort. What you would give to see him just a little more proud of himself, just a bit more confident. Sometimes you wondered if all that affinity shared between you meant anything to him or if he even realized how much you’d been there for him, how you’d always be there for him. But in the end, your crazy thoughts of his negligence towards you was always just that; absolutely nonsense. “I only care that it’s yours.”

“Alright,” he reluctantly agreed. It was odd speaking to you about something he’d always been so insecure about, yet the feeling of worry over whether or not you would leave him after what you saw was beginning to dwindle away. Even with his mum unable to spare him a shred of decency, the evening had felt as though it was going fairly well thus far. At least you seemed to be enjoying the biscuits enough to eat a second even though they turned out to be stale. Still, you managed to find a way to turn the situation around, dipping them into your tea. You’d even finished your tea before him despite his vitality to speak as little as possible. He would much rather listen to you talk about how your summer had gone so far and all the plans you had for your last year at Hogwarts than speak of his home and life on Spinner’s End.

Life could never cut him a break and just when he thought he was finally grasping at happiness, Fate had to intervene, ruining any spark of joy ignited within him. Fate was cruel to him today just as she was cruel to him when he’d finally found a home in Hogwarts, introducing him to Potter while taking Lily away from him. Today, Fate had decided to shake up his plans with you and test him instead. The sound of the front door opening dropped his heart down to his stomach. He knew it was over the second his father took a step into the house, to be greeted by his son sitting with a stranger he’d been told nothing about.

“What is this?” His tone showed resistance as he stared at you and Severus sitting on the couch. He was holding back like he always did when they were out in public. Your presence was taming him, but Severus knew it wouldn’t last long.

“H-hello,” you hesitantly tried to introduce yourself, feeling the tension in the air. You assumed the man who’d stepped inside the house was his father, but judging by the look on the man’s face, he had no idea who you were. Did Severus not tell either of his parents about your visit? Thoughts of disappointment and guilt filled your mind as you stood up, stretching your hand out to him. “I-umm, I’m (Y/N).”

The man squinted at your hand, staring at you in silence. You felt wary of the situation you’d suddenly found yourself in. Your introduction clearly doing you no favours. Awkwardly, you lowered your hand to your side along with your gaze in embarrassment as you sank back down on the couch beside Severus.

“We were just drinking tea,” Severus finally spoke, trying to explain with as few words as possible why there was a stranger in the house. Looking at him, you questioned why his voice had suddenly lost all its power. It sounded as though he was speaking to a wall, you’d never heard his voice so monotone before and it frightened you. Perhaps he was right, and you shouldn’t have come over.

Severus watched his father squint at the two empty mugs on the coffee table, evidence that you’d both finished your tea a while ago. Severus could already tell lies was all his father would see. The way his father’s black eyes pierced his, he knew nothing he said now would forgive inviting you over.

“I see.” Severus felt a slight shiver run up his body from his father's simple words, but he still maintained eye contact with him all the same, hoping he could at least try and brace himself for what came next. He watched the man take a few steps around the couch, speaking one final word as he opened the door to the rest of the house. “Severus.”

His voice commanded obedience from Severus and immediately he knew he was being asked to follow him to the kitchen. Shrugging his shoulders, he let out a small sigh. His hair fell over his face as he closed his eyes, trying not to think about what was to come next. Reluctantly, he stood from his place and motioned to begin following his father through the door when he felt a hand tightly grasp at his, holding him back.

“Sev, is everything okay?” you whisper to him, your brows furrowed, and your voice muffled with worry. Severus sat back down on the edge of the couch next to you, his gaze still lowered in shame of the interaction you’d just had with his father. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He wasn’t supposed to come home until the evening.

“Severus!” His mother’s voice echoed through the room, a sign he was in deep trouble. His punishment was always worsened whenever both his parents were there to discipline him and he wasn’t ready to face those consequences tonight. Not tonight of all nights. He couldn’t handle it knowing you'd be in the next room.

“It’s fine, just- umm, stay here,” he told you quickly before standing up, pulling away from you and marching straight into the kitchen like a soldier ready for battle. You sat there frozen for a moment, the silence around you deafening. Severus looked so upset when he’d left you, wearing the same look he’d have after an interaction with James and his friends. This summer was supposed to be about building your relationship with him, growing closer to each other and enjoying your time together. You never thought you’d see that look on his face in his own home with your company.

“SHUT UP EILEEN! THIS ISN’T ABOUT YOU!” The voice of his father roared throughout the house. Your heart stopped at the sudden burst in rage coming from the other side of the door. Your chest rose with panic and fell with worry. Against better judgment, you stood up and slowly walked over towards the commotion, fear of those doors bursting open as you got closer. Your palms pressed against the chipping paint as you listened in on the rest of their conversation.

“This is about your ungrateful son!” The man continued pouring his anger out on those in the other room. “How dare you bring some stranger into my house!”

Your heart ached for Severus. You weren’t a stranger to him and-

“I live here too!” You and Severus were a lot alike in more ways than one, but it seemed in this situation, your thoughts had aligned more than they ever had before. Unfortunately, it seemed his father didn’t care to allow Severus any sense of belonging.

“ON MY DIME!” The man screamed.

Your heart sank as the yelling continued, the more they spoke, the more you were certain Severus was living in a toxic environment, one you’d be forced to leave soon, forced to abandon the one person in this house that seemed to have a kind soul. You had to do something, you couldn’t just stand here. Intervening would be a horrible idea, you or Severus could wind up injured, or worse. No, you couldn’t let yourself be separated from Severus, you couldn’t leave him during a time like this.

Every bone in your body resisted as you went to cautiously open the door enough to look through to the other side. You saw the light on in another room where all the yelling was emerging from, and quickly took this chance to slip through the door, closing it behind you and making your way up the stairs. You paused halfway up, crouching down in fear of being caught, hoping Severus could free himself of the entrapment his parents had suddenly put him in.

“You should have quit that ruddy school a long time ago, gotten yourself a job and contributed to this household like I had when I was half your age!”

It seemed the man had no sense of pride, happy to have his son throw away his potential all for his own benefit. Helping him pay the bills instead of watching Severus build a future for himself was apparently the right priorities to him. Severus was a brilliant wizard, and you knew his skills would provide him with many opportunities in the future. You’d always told him that, even before you started dating, you’d never missed out on a chance to let him know how much he inspired you, how you had him to thank for so much of your own success at Hogwarts. It didn’t matter what his father thought so long as Severus knew he wasn’t wrong to focus on his studies, to strive for a better life than his parents, you were happy.

You hurried up the rest of the stairs, optimistic they would finish their episode of abuse soon and began to look around on the second floor. You found two bedrooms and a bathroom. The first bedroom you would have assumed was the master bedroom as it contained a queen-sized bed, but the bundled up sheets and pillow in the corner had you second guess your assumption. It appeared as though someone had been sleeping on the floor, but when you entered the second bedroom, you knew that person couldn’t have been Severus. This second bedroom had to be his room. His trunk was in here, shoved into the closet, an old desk with one of its legs repaired with what appeared to be a chopped stick of a broom sat opposite of the twin sized bed that filled up most of the room.

Sitting on his bed, you felt the springs in the mattress snap and you almost jumped up in surprise, but you kept yourself still, worried that any noise you made would bring you unwanted attention from downstairs. Poor Severus was already being scolded for your presence in this house, you didn’t want him blamed for the risky choice you made of sneaking into his room. Down below, you heard the sound of a door shoved open followed by footsteps before the shouting resumed.

“She’s not there Tobias,” spoke his mother. Just as you’d suspected, they’d gone looking to kick you out of the house. What followed was a sentence you never thought you’d hear, something you felt so offended by, you would have given up your position just to prove them wrong.

“Another friend abandoning you,” his father scoffed, a bit of spite in his tone as he talked down to Severus. “I could only be so lucky as to have the same privilege.”

Severus didn’t want to believe it. He didn’t want to believe you’d abandoned him, but he could however believe his parents scaring you away. He wondered how his summer would go now that you knew everything about his life. He tried to picture you receiving his countless letters begging to see you and throwing them in the trash without so much as glimpsing at his words. He tried to imagine how his final year would go without you by his side, celebrating his freedom alone, watching from afar as you went on to find someone else, all because of the horrible way his parents had treated you.

You’d told him so many times, tried to reassure him so many times you weren’t going anywhere, but deep down he knew they were just words. They meant nothing and in the moment, you couldn’t handle the horrific truth. He didn’t want to believe it, but he didn’t blame you. He didn’t hold it against you for leaving. That luxury was only to be held by his parents. The luxury they’d held over him since the day he was born. Severus bowed his head in shame. He was embarrassed for opening up to you like that. For trusting you and thinking you’d be different. His shame slowly turned his disappointment into rage, tears pricking his eyes, daring to expose his emotions to his parents when he was already so vulnerable.

Let them punish me. Let them relish in my embarrassment. I deserve it.

“I’m taking you to the mill tomorrow,” his father informed him. “You’re getting a job to pay back all the money I put into you the last 17 years.”

His life was over. He knew it and so did his parents. He was doomed to work for his father for the rest of his life, always in his debate. He wasn't to graduate Hogwarts, he wasn’t to send you any letters, he wasn’t to dream of the great wizard you said he could be. He said nothing in response, the pain he felt in his chest, his face, his ribs, his stomach, his heart all too great to allow him the energy to speak a single word.

He watched his mother walk back to the kitchen and lift up the chair his father had thrown at him, tucking it into the small kitchen table. One of its legs was broken and he knew if anyone sat on it, it would break. But so long as it appeared put together, so long as it looked fine, he knew they wouldn’t care. His father went and sat down on the chair no one but him was to use and waited for his mother to serve dinner.

Severus once again found himself completely invisible to them. They’d let out their emotions, lashed out at him and made sure he knew his place, then went back to their lives, pretending like he didn’t exist. He’d only wished they’d done that when you were here. If they didn't acknowledge your presence like they did his own right now, perhaps you’d still be together. Perhaps he wouldn't have to live the rest of his life alone, but such a mercy was too much to ask of course. He was made to be punished, he was born to suffer and that was to be his fate until the day he died.

Slowly, he walked out of the kitchen, not to make a sound lest he be noticed again. He held his breath with each step he took, exhaling when he reached the second floor. He turned to make his way to his room, twisting the knob, ready to crawl into bed and drown in his tears, but the second he opened the door, about to throw himself onto his mattress, he was met instead with a sight he’d never dreamt of seeing. You were there, waiting for him, waiting to comfort him, your arms warm as you wrapped them around him. His lips trembled as he lost himself in you. He was falling in love with you all over again, the rush of emotions all too great to conceal.

He’d barely managed to close the door, trapping you both in the cold darkness of his prison before everything he’d kept buried inside for 17 years spilled out silently. He trembled as he let his body lean on yours. His muscles giving out, too tired to continue standing, his mind too beat to stay strong. He couldn’t do it anymore. He was too exhausted.

“Severus,” you whispered into his ear, testing the waters, knowing you couldn’t let yourself be heard. His tears were silent, and you knew you had to oblige to the same rule, but you couldn’t hold back. You couldn’t let him think what you knew his mind would have concluded not moments ago. “I will never leave you.”

His grip tightened when you spoke, reminding him of why he’d opened up to you in the first place, why he’d trusted you. He hugged you with as much strength as he could muster, letting his tears leak from his eyes, soaking your shirt as you stood there frozen in time. He’d lost himself in his mind before feeling your hands move down to his waist, pushing him away just enough to guide him into his bed. The covers were pulled over his body as he nuzzled into yours, feeling its warm embrace comfort him as you held him once more. His tears began to dry as the safety of your presence soothed him, telling him it would be alright. He had nothing to fear, nothing to worry about because he had you and you weren’t going anywhere.

Adjusting your position, you slid down the bed enough to lay on your side, facing him. His eyes were half open, his breath heavy as you rose your hand, gently cupping his jaw, your thumb slowly swiping his cheek. He relaxed under your touch, your eyes, your smile assuring him he was safe. The darkness welcomed him as he closed his eyes, focussing on your touch, the only sound in the room, his heavy breaths.

“Sev?” You broke the silence, whispering his name. “I think you should come stay with me awhile.”

You’d been reluctant to offer an escape from this house, but the way he looked, the exhaustion on his face broke your heart. It angered you and you couldn’t let him stay here. You couldn’t let him endure one more second of the abuse in this house.

His eyes opened and met yours, your chest aching as the light in his eyes faded away. He slowly nodded his head in agreement, fear of what his parents might do to him if he was caught trying to run away bubbling in his mind. He was afraid, yes, but staying here and living the miserable life they’d planned out for him was a much worse fate than anything else he imagined they would do if they caught him. He’d been wanting an out for so long, and here you were offering him just that.

Next Chapter

@sleepysnapesnake @wanderingtrails @darkthought15 @bush-viper-cutie @fluffymadamina @dracos-mudblood @mitchiesdungeon @severuslovebot @ravenhopeflyte54

#Severus Snape #Severus x reader #Severus Snape x reader #Snape x reader #young Severus Snape #young Snape x reader #my fanfic #my writing #pro Snape #snapedom #snapebang20

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bored-storyteller · 3 years

Text

Oh my, thank you! Thanks for bringing this to me, I love Sally Face! It's one of my favorite indie games ever! I really hope it meets your expectations.

NOTES: I imagined the more adult Sal, but beyond that there are no other references to the timeline of the original story, except some canonical episodes mentioned.

34- Sally Face - Sal Fisher x Reader

"You can see me"

With a last glance at the clock, you quickly close the water bottle, at the same time grabbing the full glass in the same hand that you also hold the medicine box.

You're pretty sure you find Sal in his room, probably bent over his guitar. Surely it is for that reason that he has not paid attention to his therapy.

It doesn't happen often, in fact, it rarely happens that you have to rush to his rescue, nor do you really like doing it. You don't know how he really feels about it.

Knowing where he keeps his medicines and knowing when he has to take them doesn't make you two a couple. Not even living under the same roof makes you a couple - especially if you are not alone - nor does sharing the same room often and willingly.

In fact, even though someone often mistakes you for two young lovers, you don't really know what Sal thinks of you. As close as you feel him, you are not sure that he feels as close to you; on the other hand, he doesn't seem to share the same kind of intimacy with you that he shares with Larry or Ashley, or at least that's what you think.

Besides, you've never seen his face.

Yours is a purely selfish thought, and you are ashamed of it, but you cannot command feelings.

You know that the first time Larry saw his best friend's face was an accident, with Ash instead, she was the one who took the initiative. In neither case was Sal's will to make him show himself. Yet, despite this deep down, inside you, something stung excruciatingly.

When your friend had lifted his mask, Sal that time was not angry at the intrusiveness - as perhaps you would have done -, nor had he tried to escape later. It is logically normal that he now has less trouble showing himself around them. Sweet Sal, always so loving, so perfect.

You shouldn't feel offended. You know well that for Sal the prosthesis he wears is in effect his face, so it's not that he wants to hide from you, you are simply already seeing him.

Yet you know that under that face another is hidden, however much it may be disfigured. You can't pretend it isn't.

That slight annoyance you have repeatedly tried to ignore has slowly grown, but only now have you dared to call it by name. Because you like Sal. You really like him. And when you have understood this, when you have found the strength to admit it to yourself, everything is put in the right place; the joys, the jealousies you felt and feel… and also that desire to see him, to see beyond, to really see him.

But you'll never force on him for it. As simple as it would be to lift that mask to him with an excuse, you will never force him to show himself to you, even if you die with the regret of never having seen him. It's not the same, it's not the face you want to see, it's the trust you want him to give you. But you can't expect it, and you know it.

You could live with this obsession that has become so present in recent weeks that you can hardly forget it. Maybe it's just your mind that doesn't want to focus on your duties, and then it always wanders to him, aimlessly.

"What is Sal's face like?"

You asked Larry one day without realizing it. You didn't really know what you were doing with him, you just know that for a moment your brain was shut down, and when you woke up you whispered that question.

The astonished look of your friend had poured into you a flood of emotions so sudden that they almost made you cry for no reason: you felt guilty, selfish, reckless, stupid, meddlesome and terribly fragile.

You immediately lowered your gaze to protect yourself, muttering an "sorry, forget it" but never would have canceled that damn question. You thought Larry might misjudge you for that, but instead his big hand pulled you to him, ruffling your hair affectionately, saying nothing.

He seemed to have understood more than you hoped for, yet ...

You shake your head and your hand tightens on the glass of water. You knock on the door and softly call Sal's name.

"Yes?"

His answer comes a few seconds later and you feel safe in opening the door slowly.

It's not exactly what you imagined; he is sitting on the bed, his legs stretched out on the mattress and his back resting against the headboard. The guitar is stored in the case, but in his hands he holds a book with a dark cover.

His kind gaze meets you beyond that face that is always the same. It's amazing how expressive that guy can be under that stiff mask. That damn mask. That lovely mask.

"You didn't take them, did you?"

You ask softly as you lift the medicines to show them. Your voice is cracked against your will, and you're praying he didn't notice.

"Oh ..." his eyes snap to the clock hanging on the wall "thanks, I was completely forgetting about it."

His voice is soft, almost cheerful. He is not bothered by your gesture, or he is very good at hiding it.

You watch him get up to go to the bedside table where you put what he needed. You don't pay much attention to it, you just sit on the bed, picking up the book he was reading, making sure you keep your thumb between the pages, so as not to lose the mark he left.

You read the title and a few lines of the presentation absently. You're just trying to buy time with him, and you know it.

You hear it as he handles the pill box and plastic, and hear the rattle of the straps as they unfasten to release his mouth.

You don't watch it, you're used to the process and now, despite you insisting on staying there, you don't really want to watch it.

You don't understand much about the book, you just know it's about music.

"Do you like it?"

You ask, trying to give a semblance of normality.

"Enough ... actually I'm just at the beginning."

You just nod, not really being able to continue the conversation. Your head feels too full confused, but extremely empty at the same time, and you don't know why.

"Hey ... is everything okay?"

His voice makes you jump, as if he has stung you with a needle. Such a simple question, but you suddenly feel discovered, as if he has just proved he can read your mind. As if you were obliged to tell him the truth.

"Yup!"

You exclaim immediately, and without realizing your head jerks towards him, as if you wanted to assure him of the truthfulness of your words.

You don't notice it right away. You see only his blue eyes for a moment, he is looking at you with concern, more than he should.

At first you wonder if your attitude really is that troubling, but then you start to focus.

His hand trembles slightly around the glass of water, and out of the corner of your eye you can see his mask lying on his pillow.

He swallows the medicine by throwing his head back slightly, perhaps to take a break from your gaze, or to escape a little from the agitation, the fear he is having.

Sal, Sal's face. You are seeing him, free from his hiding place, while he drinks.

Surely he is disfigured, excruciatingly deformed. It's not just a few scratches, it's more, it's a real pain, yet you don't notice it.

Again, this is Sal. You're really seeing Sal's face, the face you've always loved, beyond the mask, like his mask.

He sits next to you, he's trying to act naturally, you see him, but you still see his fingers shaking against the cardboard as he puts the tablet away in the box. He did it for you.

Emotions explode in your chest and you don't bother holding them back. There is no time for any misunderstandings. You are free with him, you always have been, you don't know how you forgot this.

"Sal ..."

You call him softly, and he turns to you despite the hesitation. A light "tell me" sweet and helpful pronounced by the spoiled and shy lips.

Silently, you curl up against him, your arms glide smoothly around his chest, expressing your need to feel him close.

He welcomes you - he always does.

"Hey ..." is a faint call of him, as you hide against his neck to prevent your happiness from going out too violently.

"Thanks..." This is all you can say in your voice damp with emotion. Long last. You are like a child in front of the much desired Christmas present. You are so happy that you could carry the whole world on your shoulders.

"Thank you!" You repeat him with more conviction, and finally your eyes return to his sky-colored gaze. So beautiful, always so loving even in his placid surprise.

He looks at your wet eyes, so wet with affection for him. Your smile is so warm and true, and his lungs slowly empty of all the accumulated tension.

He didn't think anyone could look at him that way, not without his mask. He did not think that a look could be so full of love in front of his disfigured face, yet it seems that you are seeing an angel.

You look at him with your eyes shining with all the admiration you feel, and not because you can lie by saying that you are seeing a beautiful face, but because Sal is the most beautiful person you know.

"I-" His voice tries to say something, but it is cut off; this time it's up to him to be overwhelmed by emotion.

You approach slowly, and the tip of your nose touches his, practically non-existent, but you don't care. You cannot resist the desire to cuddle him, to touch him, to perceive him in every possible aspect of that intimacy that he has decided to give you.

At first he has a little jerk back, of surprise rather than fear, and soon after he is there again, looking for that touch. He is extremely uncertain, but he still responds to your unspoken requests, slowly letting his forehead rest on yours.

He exhales, as if he is releasing a great weight, but he immediately stiffens when you, without realizing it, are approaching his lips.

You wake up immediately from your numbness, before making a probable mistake, and try to get away, at least as long as his arms allow you.

"Please…"

That prayer from him is so feeble yet so meaningful. His gaze asks you to do it, to continue, because he wants it but he is still afraid of taking the initiative. He is putting the responsibility on you, and rightly so.

He is tense, you see it from his swallow and feel it from his tense muscles around you, but it's okay.

You approach again, slowly, gradually lowering your eyelids, a little by instinct and a little in the hope of putting him more at ease.

Kissing him is a special experience, and you like it - you wanted it so much -.

You are not intrusive, it is just a delicate touch, but it persists, leaving him time for him.

When he reciprocates, he does it slowly, unsure of how to proceed, probably troubled by the feelings he can give you or maybe just agitated by the situation. Yet, slowly, you feel it melt against you.

Slightly open your eyes to see that he too has closed them, and then you allow yourself to return to enjoy that moment, more peaceful and serene.

You huddle more, between yourselves, and let the desire flow through you, without going too far, simply enjoying the presence of each other, in your breaths that merge.

When you separate you do it only with your lips, but your gaze remains affectionate and aware.

In the end, that is nothing more than the confirmation of everything: of your knowing what time he should take his medicines and of his letting you know, of his knowing your favorite drink and which shower gel you always use, of cooking one by one. other, of looking so much like a couple for a long time already - and some of it is also the result of Larry's long tongue letting out a few too many words with his best friend.

You watch him as he puts his mask back on, and now you don't care anymore, because you know what's under it, and if that's his face then you've seen his soul.

Suddenly all your happiness is back. You are so happy that not even the bickering between Larry and Todd coming from the kitchen can upset you.

It must be something about the finished milk.

"I'm going to get it!"

You hum loud enough for the two to hear it, as you jump three steps at the same time, happily landing down the stairs.

Sal's laughter reaches you, and you turn to look at him. You like to see him happy, whatever the nature of that happiness.

"I come with you."

He tells you coming to you, reaching out his hand so that you can take it.

You're pretty sure you won't be able to stop smiling all night long.

*The image above is an old drawing of mine

#sally face #sally face x reader #sal fisher #sal fisher x reader #oneshot #request #larry johnson #sally face sal #gaming #video games

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sovpologist · 3 years

Note

hi, genuine question! I want to like Mara, but d2 lore shows her, in my eyes, as selfish and cruel, set on her own goal with no consideration for others. At least that's what I got from marasenna lorebook.

Why is she liked by so many in community? I feel like I'm overlooking something over things I mentioned above, but I would appreciate a perspective from someone who likes her character! If it's okay to ask!

its totally okay to ask!! this is going to be a long post so im going to put it under a readmore :)

i just want to stress first that mara is like.... widely disliked by many in the community. it used to be very unpopular to like her and if you even said anything remotely positive about her, people would reply to your posts and send you anons about how you were a terrible person for liking such a manipulative and toxic character. it was only recently that community opinion kind of started to shift, and people started to actually appreciate her character as nuanced and interesting. i definitely dont think this is because of me or anything crazy like that, but ive tried to correct misconceptions about her and cultivate a space on my blog at least where people can just openly like mara and not feel like they have to qualify it by constantly assuring people that they know mara's done bad things too (because literally every character in d2 has done bad things, and somehow people understand that liking the uldren doesnt mean you support him killing cayde but cant apply that same concept to mara for some reason). ok, im getting off my soapbox now and im going to just talk about why i like her.

mara is genuinely just such a fascinating character to me. reading the marasenna im really struck by how alone she is, even as a 19 year old human. her mom has essentially abandoned her and says that she's mara's friend but not her mother, and mara's father is never mentioned, so mara literally has no parental guidance or supervision or love. this puts a lot more of her pre-awoken actions into context, such as her not knowing how to interact with people and preferring to keep herself away from the rest of the crew. everyone mara loves leaves her. her mom stays in the distributary, uldren is distant in his efforts to impress and surprise her and then dies, and sjur dies too.

i also love mara's character arc, although it kind of makes me sad. mara is so painfully human in the earlier parts of the marasenna. she's awkward, she's lonely, she thinks her and uldren's secret language is "cool," she gets embarassed at her mom's embarrassing petnames, she hero-worships alis li and listens to her advice. watching her lose all of this and crystalize into a queen is so interesting. remember, mara didn't go out into the fight between the darkness and the traveler bc she knew she would gain power and create the awoken, its stated that she went out there to die. so a 19 year old just trying to die peacefully ends up witnessing firsthand the power of the dark and light and being tasked with essentially creating a new species, knowing that one day she wants to go back and fight the darkness. she becomes such a politician and has to scheme and plot and really loses her humanity while following ALIS' advice- alis was the one who told her that people need a mascot, not a friend. this also makes for a really interesting scene where alis grants mara one favor, and instead of asking for political power, even though mara is such an intensely political and scheming person, she tells alis the truth about the awoken and asks for forgiveness. alis, who mara looked up to, doesnt forgive her, and mara really internalizes this and starts to permantantly close herself off. mara made herself into a queen and lost her humanity in the process. there's a couple people who see the real her, like sjur, but even sjur doesnt really understand her. but her relationship with sjur is also so well written and interesting, sjur being the one person she lets herself drop her mask around and just act human. i made a post about this once, but even mara's speech patterns change around sjur, becoming much more casual and "normal." however, at the same time, mara's mask/persona is a part of her character, and one that i love. people hate her for being "mean," but i like characters like that. mara doesnt take any shit, even from the protagonist, and has her own plans and goals that she doesn't feel obligated to share or change for other people. she's ambitious, sticks to her guns, and doesn't allow other people to influence her.

you say she's selfish, and i think it is easy to brush her off as selfish and doing everything for her own gain, but there's a lot of subtext and outright text in the marasenna and other lore that shows mara genuinely believes that the only way to fight the darkness is to become a being on the same level as the darkness and the traveler. she doesn't let the awoken become immortal gods, which some people regard as a bad thing, but she did that for a reason. mara understands that a people who are eternal and ageless will never grow as people, and she knew that the darkness wanted them to just be complacently sitting aside in their little realm while it does whatever it wants. mara wasn't going to let that happen, and knew she had to find a way to encourage people to leave paradise. you can dislike the way she went about this, essentially encouraging conflict and war among her people, but she did not just do it for her own gain or amusement. mara has also been hated on for starting the reef war/firing a missile at the house of wolves, people act like she did that just for fun too, but the eliksni fleet was heading to conquer earth. instead of just hiding and building up her own resources, which wouldve been the logical thing to do in this situation, mara put her own fleet and power on the line to draw the eliksni's attention away and help earth. she doesn't do things solely bc they benefit her, but because she genuinely loves and wants to help earth. her uncaring persona is a mask, the thing that she feels she needs to be for people to have faith in her.

i have more to say but this is already so long and ive said a lot, so i'll end it here :) at the end of the day, some people are just not going to like mara and thats totally fine. she's not everyone's type, bc she IS ambitious and manipulative and sometimes cruel. i just wish she didnt get a disproportionate amount of hate for being like that when i know for a fact that if she was a male character she would not get this much hate, and i wish that people could just dislike her normally without lying about her or misinterpreting her character and motivations. but if you dont like her, you dont like her! sometimes we just dislike characters, sometimes for well thought out reasons snad sometimes just for no reason! thats completely fine, as long as you're respectful!!

#long post #ask #i did not read this over again before i hit post so if anything is grammatically weird just ignore it #and if its hard to understand just send another message and ill try to explain #tldr; misunderstood gay asshole with a heart of gold? SIGN ME UP

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alwaysbeliev · 3 years

Text

Same as the Last

pairing: Arthur x Reader

summary: Mary Linton has summoned Arthur once again, and he has dropped everything to see her. You're left at Shady Belle to wonder what is going on and what it means for your relationship.

word count: 1,782

notes: you can find this on AO3 under the same username, if you wish to give it love there, too! it’s been a long time since i really got into writing, so i’m taking baby steps. it might be small, but i hope you enjoy it anyway!

Curse that Mary Linton.

Pacing, pacing, all you could do was pace. The others were getting tired of it. Mrs. Grimshaw had already given you several chores, all of which you completed at haphazard speed. The laundry was still dripping on the line, puddles forming underneath in the already soaked ground. It was gonna take a thousand years to dry. But you had other things on your mind.

“Is that from your secret lover?” you had teased Arthur earlier. A letter had arrived for him, brought from the post office by Pearson, and he had scarcely looked at it when you asked. He chuckled at your joke. But as he studied the writing and unfolded the paper, his smile fell, replaced with a strange mixing of emotions you couldn’t quite place.

“No, it’s…” His voice trailed off as his eyes scanned the words before him.

“Arthur?” You tried peeking over his shoulder, but in a defensive move, he turned so you couldn’t see it. “Is everything okay?”

Your mind started racing as you wondered what it might be. As far as you were aware, the outlaw had no outside obligations. None of the gang did. Quickly, you started cycling through any recent or semi-recent events, wracking your brain for an answer, anything that might help solve this weird and uncomfortable puzzle. Maybe it was some kind of summons? You’d heard of the law issuing letters. But if that were the case, then the gang’s pseudonym at the post office was compromised. Was it related to unfinished business in Valentine?

It suddenly clicked. Right as Arthur finished reading, you said, “Mary.”

“I, uh... “ At least he had the decency to look sheepish. He nodded.

Immediately, your mood had soured. And it had only gone downhill from there. The letter arrived this morning, Arthur had read it after breakfast, and offered it to you to read after he had finished. It was from Mary, alright. She was in Saint Denis, and, yet again, she was begging for Arthur’s help. You tried not to be angry, but you were. Mary was long before you and you knew that, and yet, you were still strangely jealous of her. Despite existing long before you in Arthur’s life, she was still receiving so much attention, so much of his time, so much of his… You couldn’t think of what it was exactly, but it was infuriating.

And now, here you were. Mid-afternoon. Roaming aimlessly around Shady Belle, getting on everyone’s nerves. Pearson, who was usually one to nag those who were bored into helping prep the food, was avoiding you like the plague. You had taken to practicing your aim, your volcanic pistol in your hand, squinting at the glass bottles you had lined up on the end of the dock. It was cruel, but you imagined each one was Mary and Arthur. Bang! There goes the engagement ring. Bang! Their stupid faces kissing. Bang!

You jumped about a mile in the air as the last gunshot came from behind you. Whirling around, you found yourself face to face with Arthur, lowering his revolver. He was smiling, just a slight lift to the left side of his mouth, and he pretended to blow smoke from the barrel of his weapon, spinning it poorly around his finger before replacing it in his holster. He approached you with his thumbs hooked in his belt to admire his work.

“Always were a strong shot,” he commented, nodding his head towards the bottles.

“You’ve been doing this a long time,” you grumbled. Arthur chuckled.

“Not me, I was talkin’ about you.”

You could only half shrug. You didn’t want to look him in the eyes, though you knew he was searching for yours. He sighed deeply and shuffled his feet.

“Look, can we- Can we talk? I don’t want this to be turned into a, a big thing.”

Reluctantly, you lifted your eyes and met his. The look on his face was begging you to have pity on him, exposing a strange vulnerability you had been seeing more from him lately. It tugged at your heartstrings and you finally caved. You tossed your head back, staring at the sky for a second as you exhaled sharply, drawing strength from the clouds above you.

“Fine.”

With a flourish, you extended your arm in a sweeping, “Right this way” motion, indicating he lead the way to a quiet spot. He stared at you a moment before stepping past you, walking towards the house. You trailed behind him, your mind returning to its tumultuous state it had been in most of the day. He had been gone so long, the sun was starting to go down, painting the campsite in orange hues. What could he have been doing all day? Mary hadn’t said what was going on in her letter, just hinted at it. You had spent an hour looking over it and scouring it for information. Man, your stomach hurt from the anxiety.

The two of you ended up in your shared room on the upper floor of the former plantation home. Arthur had held the door open for you, and you found yourself unable to sit down. Behind you, Arthur tried to encourage you to sit, but you could only shake your head. He edged past you to take a seat instead.

For a long while, you just stared at each other. Arthur removed his hat and ran a hand through his hair. You couldn’t bring your mind to form any words for him. All the anger you had had that morning started to drain out of you at the sight of him. There was a sad air around him, something had happened, but you weren’t sure you wanted to hear what. He finally broke the gaze you had each other trapped in and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“How’s Mary?” Your voice finally broke the silence. You cut him off preemptively, scared of what he may have been about to say.

“She’s just fine,” he answered, apparently relieved to hear you speak. “So’s her father, the bastard.”

“It was about her father?”

“Yeah, no good asshole spending money he don’t even have.” The venom in Arthur’s voice made your skin crawl. It was easy to forget, in more tender moments, that he was an outlaw. The fire in his eyes lasted less than a second, however, rapidly replaced by the strange sadness from before. “He, uh… He tried to sell her mother’s brooch. For his.. Hell, I don’ even know, whatever he keeps spending money on. Same shit it’s always been.”

You were frozen, watching him carefully. He didn’t look up. Thinking there was more, you allowed the silence to continue, but the air was still heavy and you needed the weight off your chest.

“Was that all?” you finally asked. Your voice came out soft and fragile. You had your answer when Arthur turned his head upwards, the slightest guilty smile tugging on the corner of his mouth, and the churning feeling returned to your stomach. “Well, did you-- Did you kiss her?”

Arthur let out a bark of laughter. Suddenly, you felt very silly for even asking.

“Darlin’, no,” he said. With a whoosh of air, your shoulders relaxed, and you even felt a smile approaching your own face. “I didn’t kiss her. But I’d be lyin’ if I said it hadn’t crossed my mind.” The tightness returned as quickly as it had left. Anger bubbled upwards, rushing hot to your head, and you opened your mouth to accuse him, but the look in his eyes registered: it was pain. Pain?

“Arthur,” you whispered, “what happened? Please tell me.”

Making eye contact once again, the cowboy shifted on the bed and gestured for you to sit beside him, this time closer to a command than suggestion. Hesitantly, you joined him. Your hands were placed gingerly in your lap. He returned to his previous position, elbows on his knees, and he barely looked to you as he recounted everything that happened. He started with Mary shouting to him from the balcony, to their almost argument about the what-ifs of their past, through pursuing her father and chasing down the brooch. They had gone to the theater together. A date? And, finally…

“Mary… Mary asked me to run away with her.”

The range of emotions running through your head was making you dizzy. Too much to process, too much to consider, so much anger at her, anxiety towards Arthur’s thoughts. You stared hard at your fingers, picking absentmindedly at a loose thread on your clothes. You wondered at what the conversation was like, what Arthur had said, what his expression had betrayed. Did Mary mean it? Was she truly still thinking about him all these years later? Would she ever stop trying to take him away?

“Say somethin’.” His gaze turned to you, the worry clear in his voice. His piercing blue eyes were burning into the side of your head. Without enough time to compose a kinder phrasing, you spluttered out the first thought you had.

“So why didn’t you?”

“Why--?” Arthur chuckled, a low rumble deep in his chest. Relief, you realized, was the cause for his sudden change of tone. “Mary has played me for a fool more times than I can count. We was just kids, then. We’re… Well, we’re grown now, things have changed. Besides, I love you too much to disappear like that.”

Every other thought left your mind. I love you. I love you. I love you… He had never said those words to you. They were spoken every day through action, sure, but out loud… They were almost taboo. Tears filled your eyes as you looked up into his face. His eyes widened in alarm.

“You love me?” you managed to say, your voice strained by the tightening of your throat.

“I have, for a while,” he said. “I-I’m sorry, I jus’ didn’t know how to say it. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that, but it’s the truth. I do love you, darlin’. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

Relief in the purest form of ecstasy washed over you. You threw your arms around Arthur’s neck, pulling him in for a tight hug. He stiffened for a moment before returning the embrace. His warmth filled you up and washed out every bad feeling and thought you had that day.

“I love you, too,” you said softly, burying your face in his neck. He still carried the smells of Saint Denis with him, but you didn’t care. He didn’t smell like Mary Linton, and he never would. He was yours.

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan #rdr2 reader insert #arthur morgan reader insert #gender neutral reader #angel writes

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fallout-drabbles-n-stuff · 3 years

Note

Idk whats with me and angst but male (or if you want gender neutral) sole dying in romanced compainions + skinny malone arms?

(There are quite a few characters I didn't do..so anyone can request those individual and I'll see about writing them at a later date..just..wow. Ummm..major trigger warnings btw)

It was inevitable..wasn't it? Deep down, this truth was just one of those that was inescapable. The fearsome Sole Survivor was many things; they were determined, they were skilled, they were adaptable..they were amazing in every way- a paragon of a person..however there is one thing they were not.

Indestructible.

No one was. Shit, the Wasteland loved to remind people of that- be it in the forms of ghouls, hellish monsters or whatever- so perhaps this day shouldn't have came as such a surprise. Nevertheless, there was no comfort found within this knowledge.

The day was too pretty of one for something like this to happen. The sunshine was bright, not a cloud in the sky- a gentle breeze passing the pair by as they scavenged the archaic ruins for copper of all things- fucking copper.

Raiders were common in these kinds of areas, but that was no issue. Sole had no issue handling raiders, or anything else for that matter. Well, or so they thought.

Soon the peacefulness of that lovely day was interrupted by the whizzing of bullets and the shouts of obscenities as a small band of raiders made their presence known- effectively ambushing the pair. It was sort of funny in a fucked up way. The fight itself lasted barely ten minutes, just a blue of adrenaline and silent prayers, and the warmth of that beautiful sunshine beating on their back.

They hadn't noticed the blue of that infamous jump suit staining red until it was far too late, not until the wearer collapsed down to their knees as though they were about to beg for the life slowly fading either such rivet of blood being spilled.

Now it was even quicker.

Of course, they rushed to their precious Sole Survivor, horrified, yet still hopeful. They'd try so hard to lift them up, dread filling their veins whenever their loved one cried out in pain from the movement. However they still thought that somehow their dear would make it. Maybe it was foolish naivety.

Then there it was, a certain look within the Sole Survivor's eyes that held a promise. This was it. This was it and all they could do was watch as they died, the lovely sunlight and peaceful breeze serving as the only witness to this atrocity.

This wasn't right. Why did the world not reflect the way this scene was playing out? This was no time for sunshine and happiness, not when the only person they've loved so profoundly could only give them a watery smile..not as they slowly lost the strength to hold their hand to their cheek...

Not as the light finally dimmed and the world as they knew it was consumed by the darkness their former light now took away.

~~~~~~

Cait:

"Son of a bitch..sweetheart, you can't just..you can't just leave me like this- it's..it's not right! You come back, fuck! Please! Come come back.."

•Cait wasn't one to cry, always being more predispositions for rage than tears...however despite how hard she tried all she could do was wail until all that came out was dry tears and hoarse yells.

•After this, Cait would isolate herself from others save for sparking up terrjbke brawls where she knew she was outmatched.

•She just hoped she would finally lose the fight.

Curie:

"Please hang on, I-I can fix you! Please, mon amour, don't leave Curie just yet!"

•She's completely in shock, frantically trying to administer Med-x, Stimpacks, Jet- anything! All it does is worsen your condition unfortunately, the chems overwhelming you and eating at what remained of your life that much faster.

•A piece of her knew this, deep down at least.

•Let's just say, Curie wouldn't quite be the same after this. Not just in the "I lost someone I loved kind of way", no, more in the "I've seen far too much and can't quite cope" kind of way. Her eyes would forever be scarred with the image of your own becoming red from the busted blood vessels and your horrified, sweet face.

Danse:

"I'm truly sorry..damn it..I'm sorry I couldn't protect you either."

•In Danse's mind, you were yet another person he cared for that got killed because of his negligence. Only your death was much more profound- yes. With the death of his other brothers and sisters, he could still soldier through..but with you? The person he could only regard with love? He might've as well died with you.

•The only thing Danse can think of to do to hopefully bring you peace is bury you right outside your little home himself, hysterically crying and drunk out of his mind.

•It wouldn't be very long after this that Danse could no longer handle the pain of loss- no amount of liquor taking the vision of your smiling face at your once shared bedside from his mind.

•At least your friends would have the decency to bury him at your side after they got over the shock of finding him.

Hancock:

"Hey sunshine..don't worry, we..we won't be apart for too long. Heh, it's gonna be okay..it's all gonna be alright."

•The small window of time it takes for your life to leave you, Hancock comes to the horrific realization that he was soon to be doomed to a tragically long life without the one person at his side that made him feel worthy of living..

•Without giving it much more thought than that, he'd just simply stroke your cheek- pressing a soft kiss to your head whenever he was certain you had bled out completely, your blood throughly coating his chest and thighs. After the kiss, he'd take a deep breath before drawing his own pistol and..bang.

Maxson:

"P..please..don't leave..no,no,..please don't leave me.."

•If Sarah's death hurt Arthur, your's was devastating.

•Even after he knew full well that you were dead and gone, he still tries his best to keep you "alive". He'd rush you into a vertibird and call for you aid, having to face the fact you were truly gone when Captain Cade clasped him over the shoulder and gave him a solemn look.

•Arthur cried then, and then later into the night until all that came out were pathetic sobs.

•The only thing that keeps him going is his obligation to duty..but..sometimes he considers leaning just a little too close to the gage of the forecastle..maybe fly like some sort of mythical being before finally being able to hold you once more.

Skinny Malone:

"Oh come on doll face, it's..it's gonna between alright. Shhh, I'm right here..just..god..just relax."

•How did this even happen? He knew better than to indulge your need to scavenge..there wasn't even any need with his connections..why..why did this happen?

•He'd try so hard to keep it together, clenching the fabric of your vault suit until eventually his men come to him..then he can't contain the terrible cries that result.

X6-88:

"(Y/n), don't. You..you can't..oh..I..I don't know what to do without you.."

•As someone who knew death so well, he knew from the second you fell, the way that you fell, you were dead.

•Just for you, he'd try to keep that cold exterior he was once so good at portraying..but it lasts a mere second before tears start rolling down his face and spilling onto your's.

•He'd sit there, cradling your cooling body well into the setting of the gloriously shining sun, wondering just what he was going to do from here.

•Nothing. He no longer knew what to do

#tw death #tw suicide mention #fallout 4 #fallout #paladin danse #fo4 companions #fallout companions #danse #elder maxson #curie #skinny Malone #x688

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brockadoodles · 3 years

Text

Heartbreak and a New Tattoo - w. nylander

AN: Uhhhhhhhh. Definitely didn’t intend on posting a fic tonight but, cranked this out. It started off as meaning to be fluffy and cute but uh, my angsty cold heart said no? I’m trying to be better about writing shorter stuff, so let me know what you think! I’m gonna tag @broadstbroskis and @jasondickinsonss since they’re my resident willy pals.

Word Count: 2653

Warnings: Angst, happy ending though.

No one warned you that you would lose a piece of yourself when you fell in love. They didn’t caution you about how for every good moment, the ones that make your head spin and your heart race, there would be a chip of your own sense of person falling away. They didn’t tell you that after four years with someone, you slip into their habits, nestling tightly into their life. So much so that you aren’t even sure what direction you’re facing, because everything around you was built by him. It wasn’t that William did anything wrong. In fact, he did everything a partner should. His life was logistically a chaotic nightmare, each step felt like he was balancing on a rope, trying to get to the other side. But he was good at it, he always prioritized you, even when it was hard. The only problem was that he didn’t know the very rope he was stuck on was fraying.

It had started small, the cracks between you. The calls during road trips became shorter, less engaged. By the time either of you realized what was happening, it was just two people who once aligned into one breathing on a deadline out of obligation because it felt like that was what you were supposed to do. By the time you realized that the person you thought you were, wasn’t anyone recognizable without William by your side, you irresponsibly thought that it was time to let go. So, you let go of the visions of marriage and a family, of the house you dreamed of building together once things settled down, of the thoughts of the holidays spent together, each one more special than the last. You let it all go, taking a seam ripper to the last bits of thread connecting your souls. You couldn’t decide what hurt worse, the demise of what you thought was forever, or the fact that William didn’t put up a fight as you packed your things and left.

William didn’t know what hit him when you muttered that you were leaving. He was so sure it had to be a mistake, that there had to be some piece of information missing that would fix everything. He felt his chest caving in, the weight of you packing your bags codifying a new language into his head, one that didn’t include you. He spent weeks circling through the last few months before you ended it. Writing down and analyzing every fight, every night spent without talking to each other when he was gone, trying to piece together what moment made you leave. What he could have done to save the very thing that was destined to fall apart no matter how much super glue he tried to stick to it. You needed to find yourself again, and no matter how badly he longed to help you, he needed to let you go.

When William came back into Toronto in September, he was incessantly telling himself that he was doing better, that the fresh season would throw him back into a familiar enough routine that he could finally adjust to life without you. But familiarity breeds nostalgia, and nostalgia controlled the heartbreak he had spent the last few months trying to let go of. It wasn’t until he was back in the apartment that you shared that the resentment stage of his grief had tucked into his heart.

The resentment was the worst part of the breakup. Because he didn’t want to resent anything about you. He had gotten four years to love you as best as he could, and he didn’t want to replace all of the memories of love with a feeling of regret. He didn’t regret loving you, even if it ended the way that it had. He didn’t regret thinking he was going to marry you, and when he finally moved on from the resentment stage of grief, he realized that sometimes you can put your all into someone and they simply might not be able to give you all of it back. He was slowly starting to thread the foundation of a new rope, he was starting to move on. But when he saw you standing there in your dark blue dress, your hair a bit shorter than the last time he had seen you, talking to Steph, he dropped the newly constructed rope off the ledge.

You on the other hand were spending your summer trying to piece together the remaining fragments of your own being, the person who you were before you met William. You were doing okay, as okay as someone could be when they had just ended a four-year relationship with the person that they assumed would be the one. You spent months lying to yourself about being okay. You spent months trying to convince yourself that you didn’t make a mistake, that you didn’t leave because you couldn’t handle being honest with him about how you were feeling.

It was October and you knew he was back in the city. Hockey had started which meant that his presence was now one you actively had to avoid. You took the long way into the city and back home most days, actively avoiding the arena, knowing that being there would be too much. This half-hearted way of living in the city you called home was manageable, until December when you finally had the courage to unpack the remaining boxes from the home you shared together.

You were going through a notebook when it fell out, Mitch and Steph’s wedding invitation from over a year ago now. You picked up the card, eyes welling with the tears you had shoved down for the last six months as you remembered that weekend. The weekend you realized Will was your person.

“I can’t believe you and Mitch are finally getting married.” You hummed to Steph as you slid off your heels and collapsed onto the hotel bed. You had always admired Mitch and Steph, their relationship was one that was the definition of two people who fit together seamlessly, and made the choice to make it work between them. It wasn’t a fairytale or a whirlwind, it was real and raw and you couldn’t be happier as you laid in that hotel bed, dress and makeup still on, half-drunk from the overpriced cocktails that the boys kept flowing after they crashed the bachelorette party, that two of your closest friends were getting married in just two days.

“God, I know. Is it weird I’m not nervous about it at all?” Steph called from around the corner. You stood up, your feet slightly throbbing from being in heels all night and your mind feeling a bit fuzzy from the drinks as you rounded the corner and saw her taking off her makeup in the mirror.

“No, you and Mitch are just right, ya know? It works.” You looked at her hand, eyes shifting to the diamond sitting perfectly on her ring finger, sparkly and bright and perfect for her. You grabbed your phone from the counter where you had left it earlier in the evening, not wanting to bring it out with you while you and the girls celebrated with Steph. You looked at the home screen, a small notification catching your eye as you unlocked the phone and hit play on the voicemail. Steph grabbed the phone from your hand, a knowing smile on her face as she turned the volume on the speaker up, William’s voice filling the small hallway before you had the chance to stop it.

“Hey baby, you’re probably back in the room by now. I just wanted to say that you looked amazing tonight, and I know we can’t be together tonight because of the traditions and all that, but I love you and will be thinking of you.”

Steph handed you the phone back, a stupid smirk evident on her face that you were pretending to ignore. You went back toward your suitcase, sliding the dress off of your body and throwing on one of Willy’s old sweatshirts and a pair of shorts. You sat on the bed, fingers hovering over your phone as you thought of a message to type back to your boyfriend, a smile lingering on your cheeks from his message.

“You know what he said to me the night he met you? Granted, he was shitfaced, but I still think it’s relevant.” Steph smirked as she came around the corner, crawling onto the other side of the bed and turning to face you. You rolled your eyes at her and set your phone down, ignoring her slightly as she started speaking again,

“He told me ‘I’m gonna marry her one day Stephanie, just wait.’”

You let yourself cry over that memory, and for the first time since the breakup, you realized that you were worse off without him, that you had ended something entirely too good for reasons you didn’t understand. You picked up the phone to call more times than you could count, only to set it back down again, torturing yourself with the idea that you had made your decision, and you needed to lay with it.

You were in such a daze when he walked up to you, nerves settling into your stomach at the sight of him. He didn’t look like your Willy anymore, he looked like a hollow version of the man you still were hopelessly in love with, the one that you ultimately played the biggest hand in breaking. You followed him without a word when he asked you if you could talk because the truth was that you would follow William anywhere if it meant that maybe you could get a piece of him back.

It was awkward for a few moments, both of you riddled with nerves, wondering who was going to dare to break first and say what they were truly thinking about. It was agonizing, being so close to him for the first time in such a long time, and it only made your own doubts about leaving him to come back to your chest in full force. William grabbed your hand quickly, threading his fingers through yours before finally speaking, being the first one to crack the eggshells that you were both walking on.

“Do you sleep well without me? Because I don’t. I don’t think I’ve slept since June when you left.” He said, head hanging down as if the words he was speaking were in some way shameful. Your heart wanted to break for him because you had been in the same situation for so long, nights feeling long and empty without him there. But part of you was almost feeling some weird sense of satisfaction at knowing he was hurting just as badly as you. You weren’t surprised he dove right in, head first. It was what he always did. He had known you for so long, there wasn’t a point in dancing around saying he missed you now that he had the chance to tell you so, he had already been doing enough to push it away on his own. He didn’t want to keep pushing something that he was starting to realize wasn’t meant to go away.

“No, willy. I haven’t slept well since we broke up.” You shook your head, opting to tell the truth because up until this point, lying to pretend you were fine had only left you empty, with a broken heart that you didn’t know how to heal.

“I stayed up until 6 am just because at least then if I called you might be awake. I felt like I was watching myself just get worse and worse, and all I wanted was you. I’m not supposed to want you anymore, William.”

“I would have answered, I would always answer.”

“It’s not the same, you know it’s not.” William sighed softly at your words as he let them run in tedious circles through his head. He had spent the better part of the last six months missing you and replaying the events from the summer wondering if you were both wrong for what had happened. Your love story had been like a journey by train, exciting when you’re young and tiring when you get older. It was great until one of you, who could even remember who at this point, had gotten off during a stop and the other one continued on the journey alone and by the time you both reached the final destination, the two different trips couldn’t merge into one anymore. But the problem was that maybe the final destination was all wrong, maybe you were supposed to get off the train because now you could come back together and start a different trip together, one that isn’t tiring when you’re older.

He looked over at you quickly and let his eyes linger on the features of your face, the ones he used to have memorized hidden by the obvious toll the breakup had taken on you, too. He couldn’t help but think about how if he were to take one look in a mirror that he had been avoiding for the past six months, he probably wouldn’t recognize himself either.

“I tried to call you,” he started, voice tentative and unsure as you turned to look at him. Your eyes were blurry, and your mind nearly blacked out at the five words he just spoke. Five words that maybe could change everything, or perhaps they would have if you had seen the call in the first place. You tilted your head softly as William ran his hand through his hair.

“But, your voicemail was full.” You looked away from him, the pain in your chest creeping back in as you took in his second set of five words. Your voicemail, the one that had been filled with messages from him, from times where you were happy, and from drunken nights after the breakup where he sometimes would call and all you would hear on the other end was silence.

“I couldn’t bring myself to delete them, I just wanted a place where I would be able to hear your voice and have it be just for me,” you smiled sadly, letting the tears blur your vision as you stood up. You didn’t know what to do, this all felt suffocating and overwhelming and yet definitive at the same time. This was it, you were either getting William back, or you were letting him go forever. The choice should have been a simple one and yet it was almost more complicated than the initial choice to breakup had been because at least when you did that, you both thought it was what you wanted. Now you were presented with either putting your heart out in the open, tossing it carefully to the person you had known for so long and putting your trust in him to catch it, or you were running the risk of him dropping it and leaving you crumbled on the floor as you tried to pick up the remnants of whatever would be left after a fumble that big.

“I spent Christmas without you, please don’t make me spend New Years without you, too.”

“I don’t want to spend any day without you again.” You whispered, resting your hand on his cheek. William smiled at you and pulled you close into his chest. He tilted your head up and connected his lips to yours, something that you both had spent the last six months missing. You settled into him, feeling your fears melt with each moment that passed. The breakup had left heartache in both of you, but it was necessary to put your real love into permanent ink on both of your chests. A new start, one without heartbreak and with a new tattoo.

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thedeviltohisangel · 3 years

Text

She Was Mine, I Was Hers//2

And she hated that she didn’t know the truth. She didn’t know where he was or where he was going or what was really happening. She had her own ideas. Gathered an opinion based on her history with him. But she ached with the thought that maybe she never knew him at all.

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She had heard about Germany. Seen the wall to wall news coverage of the Avengers going to war with themselves. Watched with horror as Bucky flashed across the cable channels. It had been hard enough seeing him blamed for the UN bombing but now...now it seemed she really had no chance of seeing him again.

She couldn’t say that she had no regrets over leaving him. Her reasons for doing so were honest. She was losing herself and place in the world by being on the run with him. It had never occurred to her that leaving would mean never seeing him again. That Bucky would keep running and running and would never leave a trail for her to follow. And it kept her up at night, wondering if he had the capacity to forget her. Compartmentalize their time together. Shove it to the side and move on with his life the way he had for decades.

----

Lucia had ended up settling in Cape Town. It was remote enough that no one from her past bothered her but modern enough she needn’t go far for a bottle of wine or a new tube of mascara. A part of her knew that if she had gone to America, that would be a nail in the coffin of her and Bucky. He would never be welcome there after all he had done. So she stayed far away in the hopes one day she would find it in herself to accept the life he needed to live. Find it in himself to accept the life she needed to live. Or maybe they would be forced back together.

She paused her reading of Proust as the lights flickered in her apartment then shut off, cloaking it entirely in darkness. “It’s not even windy,” she groaned as she got up to go and see if the other units were as dark as hers. A peek out the window told her they weren’t. Her heart beat a little faster at that. Bucky had told her, long ago, that she might be used as leverage against. Explained to her the warning signs of how that would happen. Targeted isolation was one of them.

“Bucky said to give you this. So you knew you could trust me.” She screamed as a man’s voice pierced the silence, her eyes searching the living room to try and find some sort of barings. Out from the moonlight stepped Steve Rogers. “I’m not here to hurt you. Promise.” He extended a hand towards her and in it was her nightgown. The silk one Bucky had loved so much. The one that had been missing the morning of her flight. Now she knew it was because he had taken it. Had kept it with him all this time.

“How did you get that?” she asked, afraid to touch it. All of her strength was being used to keep her emotions at bay. That little bit of silk would ruin all of it.

“Bucky said it would prove he sent me.”

“Sent you for what?” Her eyes hadn’t moved from his hand.

“See if you would be with him while he goes under.” Her gaze snapped up to meet his eyes.

“What does that mean?” Steve took a deep breath.

“Hydra’s control over him is hardwired into his brain. He asked to be put back on ice until we can figure out how to get it out.” She stood shakily to her feet and took a couple seconds to herself, to try and work through the words he was saying. Bucky had worked so hard to remember the bits and pieces of his life. She could only imagine the division within him when he had been reverted back to the Winter Soldier.

“Where is he?”

“Wakanda.”

“And he asked for me?” It had been long enough since their last conversation. If she had known all he had been going through…

“Only if you want to see him. I didn’t come here to force you.” Bucky wanted her to be the last thing he saw. And if it didn’t work, he wanted to know he had done at least one thing right in his life to have been loved by her if only for a fleeting moment. He wanted her to know he loved her too. That he always would. That, if it led to her, he wouldn’t do anything different.

“Let me grab my bag.” Steve watched her walk towards the bed and grab a backpack from underneath the frame. He smirked.

----

She asked if she could have some time once they arrived in Wakanda before she went to see him. Steve obliged, saying he would be back in a little bit to bring her to the lab. Lucia showered and tried on all the clothes in her bag before settling on a dress that was in the closet of the room she had been given. She couldn’t help but laugh at herself in the mirror. The girl looking back at her was blushing, glowing and every other cliche word that describes a young girl hopelessly falling in love. Maybe there was no Lucia without Bucky. Maybe he was the spark that kept the smile on her face. Maybe she should have never walked out on him that day. Was it too late? Did him going back on ice mean he would never be just Bucky again? Lucia heard a knock on the door and knew it was time. She didn’t know if this was a see you again later or a goodbye. And she didn’t know which one she wanted it to be either.

----

He looked good from afar at least. He was smiling as he exchanged words with Steve, her eyes immediately moving to the lack of metal arm on his left side. She wondered if he even missed it. He turned and saw her through the glass panels. In that moment she knew. They both knew. Leaving had been the right thing to do because he wouldn’t have been able to protect her through everything that had followed. He was no longer angry at her for leaving and she was no longer hurt that he didn’t say goodbye. When you love someone, you learn to forgive them.

“Steve said you had made it.” Bucky swallowed as she stood just outside of his reach.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay. See you with my own eyes after everything I saw on TV.” Even though she had never stopped thinking about him and her feelings had never gone away, she felt out of place standing in front of him. Like they were strangers again.

“I wanted to let you know I was okay. I didn’t know if I could or if you even wanted me to.” She nodded and looked down at her feet. “I am okay,” he assured her.

“Good. I’d kill you if you weren’t.” They both smiled together, the joke easing some of the tension from their shoulders. “How long do you think it’ll take?” She began to drift a bit closer as she remembered the actual reason for her being here. Bucky was going under. He’d be gone again. Truly not there with her.

“I hope not long but I’m willing to do anything to make sure no one can control me like that ever again.” Her hand had found its way into his lap, his fingers twisting with hers. It was pure elation to touch her again. To be with her and feel her love for him washing over him in waves. It reminded him he wasn’t actually alone here at all. That if even when she wasn’t with him physically, her love always would be.

“I’ll stay here as long as it takes,” she whispered as she finally found the courage to look him in the eyes.

“Lucia, I would never ask you to do that.” Put her whole life on hold for him again. Clip her wings to be by his side while he recovered from years of trauma.

“I know. And you didn’t. I’ve lived life without you, Bucky, and it wasn’t really living. I want to be here when you wake up. By your side every day as you reclaim your life.” He leaned forward and pecked her lips gently. “I want to learn all the new parts of you. Fall in love with all of them the way I have the rest of you.” Because she had always believed that she loved all of Bucky. The damaged, torched by Hydra pieces as well as everything else. His arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer to where he sat.

“I love you, Lucia. I want you to be the last thing I see every night and the first thing I see every morning for the rest of my life,” he breathed into her skin. Bucky hoped this process didn’t last so long that he didn’t get the chance to get his new life. He trusted the Wakandans and Shuri to be able to give him the opportunity.

“I want that more than anything,” she smiled as Steve walked up next to them. Their time was up. “I’ll be here when you wake up. I promise.” After Steve said his goodbyes, they both watched Bucky close his eyes and drift into a long sleep from the hallway.

“I can bring you back to where you were until it’s time,” he offered.

“No. I’m not leaving.” Not again. Not ever again. “Where will you go?” Last time she had checked, Captain America was technically a fugitive.

“Some friends of mine are in prison. Think I might go get them.” She nodded like it made sense.

“Well, I wish you the best of luck, Captain Rogers.” She offered her hand. He shook it firmly.

“Take care of him. When it’s safe enough…”

“I know.” Steve left but she stayed where she was. A sentry by Bucky’s side. It was his turn to be protected. Have someone watch over him. Not have to look over his shoulder at every turn. And she’d be here to make sure of it.

----

The days passed well enough. She did a lot of reading and writing and exploring. The Wakandans had been more than welcoming. Shuri had taught her new dance moves and slang. Okoye had helped her get handy with a spear. T’Challa had made it a point to invite her to all the meals the royal family shared. She was happy and knew she could live the rest of her life like this if she had to.

But on the nights the darkness was particularly daunting and her room was particularly silent, she found herself walking past the lab where Bucky was. Frozen in time. It brought her some comfort to think he was at peace. That he was actually able to sleep. That soon, the demons would be forced to leave him alone.

“I love you, Bucky,” she whispered as she pressed her hand against the glass. Even in the darkness, she always wanted him to know that she was there by his side.

----

Lucia was chasing a group of children around in the grass when the time finally came. She knew as soon as T’Challa appeared at the top of the hill, her heart racing. Even though she had looked forward to this moment for so long, she wasn’t sure what to do. Would it have truly worked? Would Bucky still be Bucky? Would he have forgotten more than just the words in his head but all of his good memories as well?

“Mr. Barnes is being awoken today.” He looked at her carefully and spoke softly. He knew she had just gotten used to being without him. He knew that none of them could plan for the unknown of what happened next. “Would you still like to be there?”

“Yes,” Lucia responded.

“Then let us go.”

----

She had imagined this moment a thousand different ways in her head. Some were out of a romance novel. Her kisses awakens him and they reunite against the backdrop of the sunset before vowing to live a simple life in the countryside for the rest of time. Other scenarios were ones of nightmares. The tests don’t work. He wakes up as the Winter Soldier and terrorizes those who had tried to help him. Or he wakes up and his memory has been erased. He looks at her with confusion and nothingness. She is doomed to love a man that would never love her back. She hoped, as the temperature rose and Bucky was slowly brought back to life, that it would land somewhere in the middle. That no matter the obstacles that surely lay ahead they would face them together. There was no life without him. There was no one else. He is hers and she is his. And that is how it is meant to be.

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