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#& how everything he does captures her so easily
ghostgirl101 · 1 month
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I just wanna say that I am SO excited for the part 2 to your Paul Destiny fic. I have so many questions and Im excited to see if they get answered. Like if Paul is pledging his love to the reader then is the romance plot with Chani still relevant? Is the reader still the princess here? Very interesting
Imagine if Paul Atreides claimed you as his destiny: PART Ⅱ of Ⅱ
|| Word Count: 1.7K || Fluff ||
A/N: Honestly, I didn't think this would blow up so much- 1k+ likes??! Thank you all, it's sick 🙃 in answer to your questions, I didn't really specify if the reader (you) are part of a Great House or the Emperor's daughter, or maybe someone else, that's kind of up to your imagination. And yeah, sorry Chani fans, I kind of kicked her to the curb lmao; This is all about you, and so enjoy the second and final part of this destiny trope before I work on some relationship headcanons for Paul and Feyd-Rautha... Requests are open for Dune 2, so don't be shy 📩
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You can't escape fate.
It's as real as the Spice that threads through the grains of sand blanketing Arrakis in heavy, warm golden waves. It twists and turns in the air, in the tides of change, something beyond understanding roping together reality and its lives to bond, whether in love or hate.
At least, with the newly ascended young Emperor, you know which side you're on. Since the day of his declaration and claiming of you as his Empress, you've never once left his sight, unknowingly or not. The boy is almost ridiculously close and observant, as if testing the depths of the events unfolding around him, testing to see whether you'll try to run from them, from him. But you can't run from fate, either.
"You aren't resting."
Paul's soft, low voice slices through the silence of the dusk, the only words you hear before you feel his warm, firm arms slipping under your arms and around your middle, pulling you into his front in a smooth, protective motion. His chocolate brown locks tickle your neck and cheek as he gazes up at you from your shoulder; wandering, curious eyes study yours knowingly, his natural hues tainted blue with the Spice.
"What troubles you?"
You hesitate in your response, unsure of the right thing to say. There's no point in lying, not to him, to a boy who could easily use the power of his Voice to make you tell him everything and anything with just a few words. He's done it to the Bene Gesserit, to those who speak out of turn and challenge him cluelessly, but never to you. And something tells you that he never will.
"I'm sorry," is how you answer instead, in a small whisper, trying to read his expression before his reaction.
But all Paul does is give you one of his soft, amused smirks, a brow raising slightly, unconvinced.
"Don't apologise to anyone for anything," he murmurs, his fingers drifting to lock with yours, his hand hot and strong in yours. "We are to be wed, you and I, soon. So what troubles you?"
"It's not you," you tell him as earnestly as you can, his eyes capturing yours and holding them as you blink up at him. "I'm just... nervous."
"Nervous?" Paul repeats gently, his hands squeezing yours for a moment, his face an inch away from yours. "What have you to be nervous about?" He grins slightly, not attempting to hide his teasing amusement. "A wedding?"
You can't help but smile at his tone, savouring the unguarded moments of the new, young Emperor, his boyish traits lingering beneath the newfound power and promises passed down to him.
You were nervous, because you weren't so familiar with destiny and its quirks, and yet, Paul Atreides seemed to be its master. Nervous, because although there was a strange pull between you and him, a deeper part of you somehow knowing him, at an instinctive ease with him, you had never met him before these past few days, and now, you were going to be joined together for time indefinite by marriage. Nervous, because he didn't just want you to rule with him, but alongside him, as a partner, a second part of him. His second half who's with him in soul, not just spirit, physically, not just mentally. And he's relishing in it.
"I've never had one before," you shake your head with a light smile, "I don't know what to expect. Or what's expected of me."
Paul hums to himself at your reply, pausing for a while as he thinks over his words.
"It isn't just a wedding," he tells you quietly, "it's so much more. This... this a beginning. A new dawn."
"Beginning?" You echo in bemusement, looking up at him in wonder. "Of what?"
"Of a new era," Paul says thoughtfully, his hands moving from yours to run over and down your sides, tracing over your figure absentmindedly, a gesture that makes you hold your breath for a beat as you watch him, "the first of many. You are more than a mere future. You're the future. My future. And the future of my people."
The sincerity and conviction in his voice makes you stare back at him in slight awe, taken by his certainty of what he's seen in the deepest stretches of his mind, the flickering images of you, adorned in all your natural beauty and grace that he could find nothing short of perfect. You were a fantasy and a hope materialised. Someone he'd wished and dreamed for so much, that you came true, just as you should have.
"Anything that happens to you," Paul continues, looking you straight in the eye as he speaks, "happens to me. You have always been mine, and I was yours before then. Absolutely and completely."
And his words make a home in your head, everything he says so poetic and beautifully surreal, but so honest and unwaveringly confident. He didn't need to practise what he said before he whispered the sweet words in your ear, in a voice only you could catch, in the long, warm nights on Arrakis. There was no need for practice. He had been made for this, and he wouldn't have it any other way.
You let yourself relax slightly in his grips, giving him an earnest smile. "That sounds nice."
Paul smiles back at you, a bright, sweet smile that makes him seem so soft and normal, almost forgetting for a moment of his utter strength and glory over the planets, his dangerous darkness that he occasionally allowed to rule over his actions at the tensest of times, until those who stood up against him retreated in bewilderment and fascination and fear.
"It does," he agrees, his gaze dropping to look out at the dunes beyond you, "you can't imagine..."
You couldn't. But every part of you wanted to. And those parts won.
"Won't you tell me?"
Paul's attention shifts back to you after you speak, before you can stop yourself.
"Would it be kind to tell you?" He asks aloud, speaking half to himself as his eyes go to search yours again, studying every inch of you, almost unsettlingly intently.
"Do you dream?" Paul questions you softly, and you dither before shaking your head.
"Not like you do," you answer steadily.
"Like I do. Seeing your face amidst the streaks of sunbeams and every kind of ethereal power that could create wonders, planets, worlds. Waking up, and you're not here, though it felt so real," he goes on, his voice laced with longing, as if it pained him to remember the feeling. "Realer than I've ever felt anything before. Every sense in me was awakened, because with destiny, I saw hope. And I did not know that hope could be so.... beautifully... angelic."
Paul draws closer and closer with each word, pulled by invisible strings to rest his forehead against yours, closing his eyes for a long moment to breathe, breathe you in. The sight of it is almost dizzyingly hypnotic, staring at the little scattered freckles over his fair, lightly tanned skin, cheeks flushed golden. He moves his face to rub his cheek against yours, seeking out affection in an irresistible rare, vulnerable move. Your hand reaches up to brush your fingers against it, and he takes it in his immediately, pressing his lips against your fingertips as he speaks.
"I need you," Paul insists, his voice firm and pressing again as he stares at you with a spark of desperation. "I need only you. More than you can comprehend. By my side, always, where you belong."
"I'm right here," you reply a little giddily, looking away from his eyes slightly bashfully from the intensity and unbridled longing of his gaze. "I suppose I'm just not used to this."
"To what?" Paul questions, his fingers tilting your chin up softly to force your eyes back up to his, his face a little closer than before. "To being an Empress?"
Before you can respond, he's pushed himself closer over you, his warm, damp lips sliding and pressing against yours and parting to encourage you to deepen his affections. It sends hot shockwaves rushing straight through your blood, as Paul crouches over you, all patience and purpose forgotten in the moment where it's just the two of you in the calm, lingering desert night.
You fit together perfectly, too perfectly for his words to be untrue, and his head tilts keenly where your fingers skim his neck, his lips parting from yours as they tangle in his hair with a short gasp. He loses none of his confidence and persistence, his azure blue eyes a shade darker as he watches you with an open trace of adoration.
"A queen?"
"Paul," you start shakily, as he smirks at you fondly, his head ducking to trace his tongue briefly up the skin of your neck, with a faint chuckle.
"To being desired?"
You glare at him weakly, hanging onto his hands tight to find some sense of grounding. "You're just playing with me."
"I intend to do so much more than that," Paul grins at you, kissing your cheek before burying his face against your shoulder. "And so should you. Test the depths of our connection. Push it to its limits. Push me. Please."
You find yourself speechless again at his way with words, simple and truthful, but full of passion and unthought romance, a sensation he's been craving since the first shadows of your being in his hazy dreams and visions.
"Give into your destiny, sweet girl," he croons to you in a whisper, his lips brushing against yours and pressing down against your skin needily, hungrily. It takes almost inhumane strength not to crumble and shiver under his touch and desire radiating off him and his dark glare, the wanting over years of dreams and prophecies building up to its peak. "Give into me."
"I think I will," you whisper back in awe and giddiness, your arms having to hold tightly around his neck to stay upright. "I think I want to."
"That's good," he praises you with a soft smile, as his voice lowers. "And besides," Paul mutters in your ear, nuzzling against your cheek breathlessly, with that subtle, teasing look in his eyes, "I plan on taking you as mine well before the wedding."
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Taglist (lmk if you want to be added to this for my future Dune fanfics): @minaxcarter @milaeth @ennycutie @weird0o0 @aoi-targaryen @jindongdongie
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helluvapoison · 3 months
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Make Me Weak
˚✧₊⁎ The Vees ⁎⁺˳✧༚
warnings: violence
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
˚✧₊⁎ Velvette ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Everything you are she should abhor– and would if it was anyone else— so she doesn’t pretend to understand how you weave into her life so easily. That time is instead spent wondering how the fuck she’s survived both her hellish lives without you
• Velvette always felt she was owed the praise and compliments she got. Receiving them from you was an entirely different type of high to ride. Your candied tone and sickeningly sweet words clung to her like smoke and had her itching for more
• You massage her hands so she has no choice but to surrender her phone, only then does she realize how cramped they’ve become. You sit in her workshop during Hell Week, sending a mellowing wave that relaxes her chaos in the form of a simple thumbs up. You make up for not being on the receiving end of her camera by setting up aesthetic dates for her to capture instead
• Velvette captures your chin, “You put up with a lotta my shit, Dollface. I’m not great at sharing credit, but I couldn’t have done this without you.”
“But I didn’t do anything?”
“You’re my muse, baby. Gimme the word and I can have you on a billboard tonight. Fuck Joanne, the raggetty bitch, I’ll bump her and have you up there for all of Hell to see!”
Your smile falters to a grimace, your eyes telling her what she already knows. Vel doesn’t get why you hate the limelight. This conversation always ends one way and if she hears you say one bad thing about yourself, she’ll tear out her hair. With a sigh, she tucks you back under her arm and kisses the crown of your head
“Fine. I didn’t wanna share you anyways.”
Your light laugh makes her smile again
˚✧₊⁎ Valentino ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Val does everything in his power not to allow you to witness one of his volatile moments. He has a very specific image of you in his mind and to a looser extent, you do too. You’re not prim or naive that you don’t know what he does, but his violent tendencies are something else to behold. You’re too sweet, too pure to completely join his world
• It’s never bothered him before, seeing that look on someone’s face. The one where their eyes go wide in horror because they know exactly what comes next but there’s no telling what would happen if the pedestal Val put you on crumbled because you saw him grabbing a whore by the neck and using them as an ashtray
• Truly, no indulgence he’s ever sampled has come close to taking the edge off him like one of your hugs. Softer than angel wings and more intoxicating than any elixir, you’re euphoria trapped in a sinner’s body
• “I almost feel bad for keeping you to myself,” Val purrs in your ear. He’s been laying underneath you for six minutes and already the shittiness of the day evaporated, “I could bottle and sell you. Make everyone in Hell as happy as I am.”
A nervous, bitter laugh escapes you
“You wouldn’t make much money, Val.”
“I would make millions, corazón” He argues seriously, though he has no intention of sharing you
˚✧₊⁎ Vox ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• The irony is lost on him; someone as soft as you could bring him, an Overlord, to succumb. Below the surface, he’s more insecure than he lets on. He’s perfected the mask of a charming show host, developed it so well that it bleeds into his personality. So much so, that you make him glitch when he gets an inkling of self doubt. Your gentleness makes him weak and it terrifies him, fills him with the urge to push you away but your arms are so inviting that he lets himself be cradled by them. How could he do anything but?
• Rare are the days where he actually feels tired but those are the days he seeks out your affections. To him, you’re safe. You won’t judge him, you don’t pry for details, you’d never tell him to suck it up
• Vox lets himself sink into the couch beside you, tapping your thigh with a claw to invite you to come closer. You never fail to accept and deliver exactly what he needs. It’s bizarre how you know what he needs when he doesn’t himself. Turning to straddle him, you rest your head on his chest and hug him impossibly closer
• “You’re tense today,” You comment quietly, giving him a comforting squeeze.
“Come with me to set for once, you’ll find out why.”
Nuzzling into his chest as if trying to find his nonexistent heartbeat, you replied, “Nah. Sounds like too much of a hassle.”
“Exactly why I need you there.”
“Promise not to bring me on air like you’re always threatening to?”
A dry cackle escapes as he keeps his gaze towards the ceiling. Vox has this fanatical plan that you two could be the power couple of Hell, outranking Lucifer and Lilith (and lasting twice as long) if you would just sit at the same desk as him, deliver news and playful banter that would knock 666 News down a couple thousand pegs. You were worried someone wouldn’t want to see your face, you’d make his ratings plummet, you’d ruin everything he worked so hard to build. He hates when you spiral like that.
“No.” Vox mumbles honestly.
He’d prove you wrong like he’s done everyone else, one way or another
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lolita-lollipop · 4 months
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Iron
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YANDERE BARBARIAN BAKUGO X READER
The king of the most violent and powerful tribe in the eastern world is captured during battle by a small farmers village. What does a violent man like katsuki bakugo do upon meeting a kind servant girl like you?
WARNINGS: reader gets hurt by villagers (bakugo saves her)
He couldn't remember how long he had been here, he just knew it was cold, dark, unsanitary, and painful. He remembered the battle that put him here, getting shot with a poison-laced arrow, feinting on the field. Heh. imagine it, the great barbarian Bakugo, the children's slayer, the village burner, the soldier slaughterer falling because of one puny arrow from one puny kingdom. When he first had woken up he could feel the slick of his blood under him mixed with the dirt and grime of the cell, he had giant iron cuffs wrapping his wrists and legs, binding him to the floor. He couldn't blame these people, truly, they knew that once he woke up if he were to get out they were all as good as slaughtered.
It was a small stone dungeon, with only a couple of stalls, he occupying one of them. There was a small barred window, along with a wall of iron bars serving as protection from him and the rest of the world. Iron, he hated the stuff, and banned it from his country, it burned him, burned his people. There was a thick, damp smell of blood and rust, a musty smell he could easily recognize as death. He would carve every person in this building up, then burn every building in the village, and he would let the fire spread to their fields and watch as their lives work shrivels up into ash. But for now, He would wait for the perfect time to strike, all he could do was wait really, watch the guard rotation, see which ones were talkative, and which ones were cruel.
Many of the guards would beat him, carve his skin, and watch him bleed, they know of all the gruesome things he has done to so very many people, and supposedly the bastards feel some kind of idiotic vengeance or justice for those people. They would pay in the long run, who exactly do they think they are? he is a king, royalty, the highest of the highest, the strongest too. If he doesn't kill them his people will, they'll see. All the king could do was watch, wait, and plot the splattering of this village.
That was, until you came along.
Little you, in your flowy little skirt that was all torn up, with no shoes and a dirt-covered face. Little you with your oh-so-innocent smile, and your callused hands. Little you with your malnourished body, frail and sickly. Little you, who had no idea who he was. Little you who snuck in when no guard was on duty, a small bowl of soup in your hands, and a cup of water.
“I-im sorry that this is all I have, I know you haven't eaten in a long time I just- I’ll have more tomorrow” you whispered, and he swore he fell in love right then and there, you were too frail, too weak to be giving out food that you surely needed. Yet here you were, shakily handing him the bowl and the cup. He stared at you for a solid second, not even his own mother was this selfless, and you don't even know him. Who were you? You did not seem like aristocracy, too kind, maybe a farmer? Maybe a maid, a servant even.
He hadn't realized how hungry he was, not until the entire bowl and cup were gone, and he was left to stare at you. You were ethereal, dirt-covered and all, your eyes, your hair, your hands, everything, absolutely stunning. You had a look in your eyes. Something hungry and fearful told him that you were not happy, not safe and sound, not as you should be.
“I don't have anything to treat your wound, but- I'm sorry. Nobody should be treated this way, not even prisoners. I'll be back tomorrow, please don't tell the guards that I've done this. They will kill me.” you whispered, cautiously reaching to grab the glassware from his grip, waiting to see if he would snap at you. He didn't, only stared, grunting in response to your plea. You stared back with those sympathetic globes of yours, as if you could see the anger in his soul. Before turning on your heel, and quietly sneaking out of the dungeon room, you gave him one last glance before disappearing.
He was left in the quiet, in the cold, falling head over heels in love with you, a mere human. A peasant at that. Strange. You were too sweet, too kind, you clearly needed the food, clearly were starving and malnourished, yet you still stood here and offered your only food to him, a prisoner of war, you were so sweet. So kind. His people were not like you, they were not soft or sweet, he loved them for it, but you, oh you. You were soft and supple and sweet andso sickeningly kind. He would protect you, he has too.
The next couple of nights went similarly, you sneaking in during the dead hours following midnight with varying foods, sometimes a stale loaf of bread with milk, sometimes some leafy soup and water. He was grateful every time, thankful that he wasn't starving, still burning with absolute rage towards the mere peasants who believed that they could contain him. But you, in the very few days that he had known you, had wormed your way into his heart with your soft hands and pretty smile.
He can just imagine you adorned in stolen jewels and furs, dressed in the finest silk, or better, the clothes of his people. something soft like you, something pretty and supple and shiny and light. Something that reflects you, he would take you out of those rags, clean you up, teach you what luxury truly is. and you wouldnt have to lift a finger. he dreamed about your future everyday that you would visit, asking your favorite color or season or jewel.
That was, until you stopped showing up. No more quiet hours gazing at each other, no more shared food and drink, no more listening to you quietly talk about your life, no more sympathetic glances, no more questions about him from you, no more answers from him. It was like you had disappeared entirely, and back to his old routine of watching and observing the guards had begun once more. He had to admit it kind of hurt, having the only good thing here disappear entirely, he resented this place more, resented you.
He hated you, how could you leave him? You, a servant girl abandoning a king. Funny, hilarious, he sat in a pool of blood and hatred thinking about you, about this town, about the people who put him here, who chained him to the floor and watched him bleed out, this city will burn. And burn and burn and burn and burn and burn, his people would tear it apart until it was nothing but ash and blood-
What tore him out of his internal monologue was a pained scream, but not just anybody, he didn't know anybody in the town, it was yours. With that whispery rasp that you had from overexertion, and that neverending fear that dripped from your tone. He stood up to stare through the small window, only to see you on the ground, surrounded by many people, all bigger and stronger than you, yelling and screaming.
“It's her, the traitor!”
“She has been feeding the enemy, treason, treason I say!”
“She should be beheaded, the traitor.”
You let another scream ring out through the town center as one of the men brought their boot down on your bare foot, he could hear the crunch followed by another scream. The first kick sparked more from other men as they brought their feet down on frail little ou, you slowly reverted into a fetal position, lying in the dirt as they beat you relentlessly. He saw red, crimson blinding him and overflowing all of his senses. How could they? You did nothing, you knew nothing. You were just a sweet, innocent little human who knew no better, who were they to punish you, to beat you so cruelly? You were thin and frail and he could hear each one of your bones cracking and breaking into pieces.
He saw bright ruby red, anger wasn’t the word, absolute rage is a better way to put it.
Red red red red red red red red red
He didn't even realize he had broken from his chains till his legs were moving,
Red
He didn’t even feel the burn of the iron till the bars holding him were bent out of shape and twisted
Red
He didn’t realize they were all dead till his hands were stained with that bright crimson color he loved so much- you guessed it, red
He killed them all, so painfully, knuckles crunching skulls and tearing off limbs, pulling people apart faster than any wolf or bear could even try to. The thrill of freedom mixed with rage and pure anger let him revert to the ways of his homeland, back to the thrilling violence and electrifying feeling of tearing another apart. He enjoyed it, enjoyed tearing them limb from limb and watching them bleed as they had done to him. He cackled as they screamed in terror, relishing in their fear.
You watched deliriously, you had lost too much blood in too short of a time, and you were positive that you had many many broken bones, pain overcame you as you watched the bloodshed in front of you, your vision was blurry and shaking but you could tell that somebody was strong, and enjoying violence. Fear budded in the back of your brain, he was enjoying this, enjoying their pain, he would hurt you just the same, kill you, and relish in it.
You hadn’t known who he was, you swore to the village leaders, swore that you just felt bad for the poor starving man in the dungeons who seemed to gentle and sweet, they hadn’t cared. You were to be burned or drowned or noosed they said. But a death like this, at the hand of a man you had been fooled to be sweet? That was worse. Oh god, oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god you were going to die
Your breath became shallow, both because of what was surely a punctured lung, but also because of the slowly approaching footsteps crunching on the dirt. A small whimper escaped you as the figure towered over you, and your hands came up to shield your face from the blow that was surely to come.
But Instead of a painful ending blow, arms wrapped under you and hoisted you up, you never realized how tall this man was. Naturally, you curled into his warmth and tried not to think about how sticky his hands were with blood. your breath hitched as he squeezed you closer with calloused rough hands. Tears washed down your face, you were quivering, shaking in fear.
“P-please-“ you quivered out. Hand moving up to push him away, your statement had many meanings, to beg for your life, to beg him to put you down, to beg him to leave you and your village alone, to beg him to forgive you. He stared down at you with crimson eyes, a sudden softness overcoming them, more than he thought he could have.
“Don’t you worry baby,
I’ll take good care of ya”
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Cute
Anyway enjoy, I noticed a lack of barbarian bakugo content on here so I figured I would add some fuel to the fire.
Love you all, make sure to have a great day!
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thefandomthings · 26 days
Note
Zuko x reader
"That's not what I meant, and you know it."
Betrayal
Hurt prompt #11: "That's not what I meant, and you know it."
Pairing: Zuko x Gn!reader
Warnings: Angst, No comfort, Established relationship, !!SPOILERS¡¡, Takes place in Book 2. Ep. 18
Notes: Oh boy, I have so many avatar requests, it's amazing. Thank you guys for participating in my event it makes me so happy! Tell me if y'all want a part 2.
Prompt Event
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All you felt was pain, deep inside your chest. Watching your boyfriend take sides against the avatar once again was brutal. What made it even worse was Iroh was to be imprisoned, you would hold the same fate if you were captured.
You stood next to Katara and Aang, Azula and Zuko on the opposite side of the cave. Azula held the same malicious grin on her face, watching the three of you with smugness.
"My, my Y/n. You seem so down, how sad." She mocks you with a slight chuckle. Zuko gives her a glare, his eyes wandering back to you. They are full of guilt, pleading for forgiveness from you. Practically begging you to understand why he did it, to come with him.
"Leave Y/n alone, Azula." Zuko grunts, getting in a fighting stance with his sister. Azula clicks her tongue and rolls her eyes at her brother.
"They're the enemy now, Zuzu. Can't protect them forever." Azula laughs, blue fire erupting from her fists.
The blue flurries of fire woosh past you fastly. Katara quickly blocks the fire with her water. Using her octopus arms she slashes and whips at Azula, both going back and forth. The ground beneath the five of you shakes and cracks.
Aang and Zuko are going at it hand to hand. You watch out of the corner of your eye as Zuko takes a hit by Aangs wind, sending him flying back into one of the crystal pillars. Your heart stops, skipping a beat as Zuko groans.
You curse under your breath and run towards him, Aang is calling your name frantically. You slid against the rock surface and get the few rocks that landed on Zuko off. He lets out a huff of air, the weight of the rock off of his chest allowing him to breath.
He's quick to sit up, using his hands, he does a walk over away from you. Your heart felt like it was stabbed, watching as he gets in a protective stance. He knows you'd never hurt him on purpose, and he'd never hurt you.
"Why are you doing this, Zuko? Why are you so desperate to gain your honor back?" Your voice is meek, tears gathering at your waterline, blurring his figure.
"You know why I have to, Y/n. This is my chance to prove to my father I am worthy."
Zukos heart physically aches, seeing your tears making him question everything. He never wanted to hurt you, never wanted to put strain on your relationship. You're his everything, you've been with him since the beginning along with Iroh. Loving him even when he didn't love himself.
"But Zuko, when you get home and see your father, will he even except you? What if he hurts you again, or what if he tries to kill you?" You plead, knowing this isn't him. He's just confused and fighting himself.
Zuko stays quiet, thinking over your words carefully. You have a point. His father could easily do all of those things, Azula to. Does he really want to go through with this? Having Uncle imprisoned, possibly you too?
He closes his eyes tightly, fists clenched at his side. He lets out a long breath, salty tears slide down his cheeks as he looks back up at you again.
"He won't. I'm sorry Y/n. You can't change my mind. I'm going home." He lifts his fists back into a defensive stance, hands trembling.
"Please...Please forgive me."
You let out a strangled sob at his words, heart clenching and shattering. Zuko grits his teeth, holding back his own cries.
"Get out of here, before Azula realizes I haven't killed you." Without realizing it, Zuko was beside you. Taking you into his arms, he holds you as close as he can. His lips pressing multiple kisses to your head. His nose buried in your hair, taking in your shampoo scent one last time.
"Does this mean you don't love me anymore? Since you're leaving?" You asked, face hidden in his neck, tears hitting his skin like rain. Zuko squeezes you softly, kissing the apples of your cheeks.
"That not what I meant, Y/n. And you know it." He pulls away from you, taking a few steps back to create distance.
Water then wraps around his waist sending him flying. You scream his name as Katara takes you in her arms. You sob holding onto Katara as she sees you down.
"It'll be alright, Y/n. I promise." She hugs you tightly, the sound of wind echos in the cave as Aang enters the avatar state. Suddenly lighting cracks, blue electricity shoots towards Aang. Shooting into his back like a spear.
"AANG!" You and Katara race towards him, watching as he falls, his body is lifeless. Katara catches him, tears falling from her eyes. You use your bending to keep the three of you protected as Katara holds Aang and bends up the waterfall.
Zuko watches as the love of his life disappears. He lets out a sob, his fist pounding the ground.
He's sorry. So, so sorry. He never wanted to hurt you, cause you this much pain. Yet he has, and he might never, ever be able to fix it.
He hopes you're safe, and he'll come and find you when the time is right before it's to late.
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getvalentined · 2 months
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Thinking about Sephiroth's motivations in Rebirth and getting super emotional because fuck, man, I get it. I get it. It doesn't excuse anything, but I get it in a way I can't even describe.
The Gi establish that those who aren't native to Gaia can't join the Lifestream basically at all, they're held separate entirely; the Gi have never been in it directly, their ghosts wander in a little liminal space they crafted for themselves. This is because they're entirely foreign—the Gi appear to be interdimensional travelers that were somehow marooned on Gaia at some point in ancient history, where they died and were left as ghosts, lingering forever unable to move on.
Sephiroth is slightly different in that he was born on Gaia and he does have human parents as well as Jenova, so he can force his way into the Lifestream as we saw in Lifestream Black and Advent Children, but he can't disseminate into it. He's still conscious and cognizant in some capacity even as the Lifestream fights to strip away the parts of him that belong on the planet, the parts of him that were human. This is, presumably, why his memory is all fucked up postcanon, whether we're talking novels or spinoffs; the Lifestream has been trying to take him but it can't, because there's too much Jenova in him, so the parts of him that have survived are just the parts that are the son of Jenova. He hasn't been fully worn down by the time the Crisis rolls around, likely because his body is still partially intact in the Northern Crater. (Again, see Lifestream Black, as well as the OG.)
And here's where everything starts to hurt.
He's alone. No matter what Sephiroth does, he's entirely, completely alone. There is nothing in the world like him, the planet won't accept him—it's not death, it's a homecoming, and Sephiroth has nowhere to go home to.
And he's done this before, this is a repeating timeline, he's been through this before over and over and over. And he's always alone in the end. He's always there at the edge of creation, the end of all things, the kindling of a new universe, and he's still there. All alone.
So this time he's calling for the ultimate Reunion. He's not just calling his Clones home, he's pulling all of time and space together into a single planet, bolstered with the lingering Lifestream of hundreds, thousands of others, timelines where things fell apart and Gaia sat on the precipice of death before Sephiroth found her and tore the Lifestream loose to feed the timeline he's chosen as the most likely to survive.
Three friends go into battle. One is captured (Genesis, in Deepground), one flies away (Angeal, who chose his own death), and the one who remains becomes a hero.
Heroes save the world.
But it doesn't matter, does it? Because he's going to be alone. Zack asks how he could turn his back on everything, and he says "Easily." Aerith asks how he could possibly want an eternity alone—because she doesn't understand, that's what Sephiroth has waiting for him anyway. That's all he's ever had waiting for him.
Sephiroth is going to save a world that will never accept him, because that's what heroes do, and then he's going to be alone forever. But this time, for the first time in every timeline he's experienced, he's going to do it on his own terms. He knows what he is, he knows how this ends, he has no questions of that. But for once in his existence—and it's a long existence, unending, eternal in a way that neither human nor Cetra could never even comprehend—he's going to control exactly how that happens.
Sephiroth knows he can't control whether or not he ends up alone, but he can choose how it happens. He can do things right this time. Maybe if he saves the world it will be different. Maybe the planet will accept him. Maybe he won't be alone.
And if he is (and he knows he will be), at least it was on his own terms.
At least, for once in the whole of creation, Sephiroth had a single flicker of control over his own existence. For once in the entirety of existence, Sephiroth made a decision for himself.
He'll have to live with that decision, alone, for eternity—but it was his.
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the one where clarisse learns about her love language
"Late in the night, the city's asleep Your love is a secret I'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep Change my priorities The taste of your lips is my idea of luxury" - King Of My Heart, Taylor Swift
summary: after getting hurt during one game of capture de flag, clarisse gets taken care of by you and after this, clarisse went from never being at the infirmary to being there almost every day with a new injury. weird for an ares kid to get this easily injured, but you didn't mind
pairing: clarisse la rue x apollo!reader
word count: 6.2k i suddenly lost the ability to write shorter fics bruh
tags: fluff, clarisse fell first and harder
masterlist // ask box
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No one at camp had a job at camp per say. Hephaestus kids were the ones forging the weapons campers used, and Demeter kids sometimes cooked dinner. And some Apollo kids – including yourself – were the designated healers at camp. So, it wasn’t your job, per say, to stay at the infirmary all day long, but you were. 
You enjoyed the calm and serenity of that place. The sun always shined through the windows, and you could sunbathe all day long, while listening to your favourite songs or painting. Most of the time it was quiet, except when Will followed you there. He was a rather loud kid, he loved to ask questions and learn about everything you did. 
“Shouldn’t you be playing with other kids your age instead of trying to work here?” 
“Shouldn’t you be socialising with kids your age instead of working for free?” Will replied in the same tone. 
“Rude!” 
“I learned from the best,” he gave you a pat on the shoulder. 
“I regret it. All the time,” you turned away. “If you’re gonna stay here, at least help me clean this place.”
The first time Will tried to help you clean this place, it was a disaster. Before you ran the infirmary, it wasn’t organised, everything was just laying around. Then you came in, and cleaned up the place, and organised it how you liked it. Will didn’t know that, so he just cleaned up like he thought was fine. It wasn’t. And you had lectured him about never – ever – touching anything again without you being there. 
“Tomorrow’s Capture the Flag,” Will started. “They put really far from the flag and the fight, again,” he frowned. 
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“It always happens when the Ares cabin is teaming up with us. They’re always leading the fight.”
“Well they are good,” you shrugged. “But you know you can talk to Lee about this, he’s our head counsellor and he could talk to Clarisse.”
He shook his head. 
“Clarisse is kinda scary,” Will admitted. 
“Did I never tell you to never judge a book by its cover,” you put your hands on your hips, “but in that case you’re right. Clarisse does scare me a little bit too. And I’m kinda glad she decided to put me far away from her this time.”
Will rolled his eyes, clearly still upset. 
“Okay, I can see how this isn’t great,” you sighed. “If for the next one, we’re still teaming up with the Ares cabin, I’ll talk to Lee and Clarisse alright?”
He nodded. Hopefully, you weren’t going to team up with the Ares cabin anytime soon. You never talked to Clarisse, but you knew who she was. Everyone knew her. Ares daughter, head counsellor and incredibly scary. She was an amazing fighter, and no one wanted to be at the other end of her spear. 
“I’m just saying,” you ranted to Lee at dinner, “Will is a kid and it sucks that you decided to exclude him.”
“Who’s ‘you’,” he inquired. “Clarisse was the brain behind everything. She’s the strategist.”
“And what are you? A plant? You were there when the strategy was being made,” you argued.
“But Will never said anything to me. It’s always been this way.”
“Well he told me, and I’m telling you. Please pass along this information if we ever get teamed up with the Ares cabin again,” you smiled.
“Sure,” Lee nodded. “You’re the boss.”
“‘m not,” you mumbled and kept on eating. 
Lee was the Apollo cabin’s head counsellor. But really, you were his co-head counsellor. You have been at camp for a long time now, since the age of ten and you have always been a year-rounder at camp. But when the head counsellor spot freed up, you vouched for Lee. He wanted that position, he deserved it, and you agreed. But he always came for advice and your opinion. 
Capture the Flag day finally arrived, and you were getting ready, putting your armour on. You picked your bow and slid it on your shoulder, before leaving your cabin. You joined your team – the red one – and everyone was there already. Clarisse stood tall and proud at the front, planting her spear next to her. 
“Prisoners may be disarmed, but may not be bound or gagged,” Chiron announced – like every single time. “Killing or maiming is not allowed.”
“Much to my regret,” Dionysus mumbled. “So yeah, let the game begin or whatever.”
Clarisse turned around, waved her hand around and people were running to their assigned position. You were on flag duty. On top of the hill that had a perfect view of your flag. If you saw anyone from the opposite side you'd shoot explosive arrows to blind and confuse them for a second, so your team had time to disarm them before they could reach your flag. 
You looked around, and spotted Michael and Lee. Chatting, and looking around. Moving on. Ares' kids were fighting some kids from the Hephaestus cabin. Logic. And then you spotted Clarisse. Walking alone through the forest. Probably to the other side where the blue flag was. 
But then you also spotted a group of three Athena kids – blue team – following her closely. Clarisse wasn’t stupid, she probably knew about them following her. 
“What are you watching?” someone asked, startling you. 
“Will! What are you doing here?”
“There wasn’t anyone around the borders, so I came to help you. So what are you staring at?”
“Nothing,” you shrugged, going back to monitor your flag. 
Will stared at you, huffed and went to look at what you were looking at. 
“y/n?,” Will called for you. 
“What?” you didn’t look at him.
“y/n!”
“What?” you gave him a quick glance. 
“Something’s wrong.”
That caught your attention. You looked back at where Clarisse was. She seemed fine. The three Athena kids were no longer there though. 
“What?”
“Don’t you see the trap?”
“What trap?” you frowned, looking more closely at where she stood. 
It was a particularly sunny day. If your dad wasn’t Apollo, you’d be blinded by the sun rays. But your dad was Apollo, so you were doing great. And there it was. The trap. It was so bright, it was hard to spot it. And the Athena kids knew that. So when Clarisse walked over it, it was too late and something came flying toward her. 
“What the hell?” you cursed before running down the hill. “Stay here,” you warned Will. 
Before you left, you gave a quick glance back, and Clarisse was down, surely unconscious. 
“Fuck.”
You sprinted towards where she was when you heard the emergency horn. The emergency horn that Chiron played at the start of every summer so campers would know what that sound meant. A warning for campers that the game stopped. When you reached Clarisse, Chiron and Mr D were already there. As well as most campers. 
“What happened?” campers talked among themselves.
“Move!” you pushed the kids blocking you from reaching Clarisse. 
Clarisse was bleeding from her forehead, and a metal stick was stuck in her left shoulder. It was overwhelming, people squeezing in to see what was going on, talking to each other. Even Chiron and Mr D couldn’t keep them in place. You kneeled beside Clarisse, trying to shield her from the campers, when you spotted one of the Athena kids that was following her earlier. 
You stood swiftly, without leaving Clarisse unattended and grabbed his armour with both hands to bring him closer.
“You take another step toward Clarisse again and I’ll make sure you won’t ever, ever, see another healthy day again. I’ll make sure you and your brothers will wake everyday in pain wishing you were dead instead,” you cursed him. 
You spoke in a low voice, but everyone heard. Just like that, everyone took a step back.
“y/n,” Chiron put his hand on your shoulder. “You’re needed in the infirmary, I’ll bring Clarisse there.”
You let him go, took your armour off and threw it on the ground before walking to the infirmary with your brothers close behind you. Michael had great healing skills too, so you’d need him. Will was learning so he stayed with you. Lee, as your head counsellor, also had to be here somehow. 
“Can you really do that?” Will asked timidly. “Make them sick forever.”
“Apollo kids can inherit dad’s plague powers,” Lee stated. “But it’s rare, and never that powerful.”
Will stared at you, but you only stared at the door. Waiting for Chiron to arrive. 
“Why are you so worried about Clarisse of all people,” Michael huffed. 
Lee slapped his arm. 
“What!” Michael rubbed his arm. 
“Great to know that’s what you’d think if we were ever on the battlefield,” you noted, “choosing who to help and who can die.”
“That’s not what I said!” he shouted.
“Then why shouldn’t I be worried about an injured camper, who just happened to be Clarisse?” you shouted back.
Someone cleared their throat. You both stopped bickering. Chiron. He put Clarisse on the bed next to the window and stepped back so you and Michael could start working. You didn’t need to talk to know what to do. You trained together, as a team, for years, so everything was done flawlessly and quickly. 
“She should be fine,” you announced, “I’ll stay and feed her ambrosia for the next few days and she should wake.”
“Great,” Chiron nodded, relieved. “Great work you two, as usual.”
They all left, except for Will and you both sat on the couch. You stared at Clarisse, with her head wrapped in a bandage, her shoulder too. 
“She doesn’t look so scary now huh,” you said. 
“No,” Will agreed. “So it really was the Athena cabin?”
“I don’t know, I mean I saw them. I don’t think Annabeth would’ve agreed to such a plan. As in a plan that’d almost kill their opponent in Capture the Flag. For a real quest, why not. But Capture the Flag?”
“What’s going to happen to those who pulled this stunt?”
“Well,” you sighed, “knowing Chiron, he’d probably just revoke their dessert privileges for two weeks instead of one. But I’m sure once she wakes up, she’ll know what to do.”
“Kill them?” Will ask, with a horrified expression.
“Maybe,” you shrugged. 
Will left first, leaving you alone with Clarisse. You told him you’d join him later when dinner would come. You went to see Clarisse. The bandages were already soaked, so you carefully removed them. You carefully cleaned her wounds again before bandaging them again. You fed her a tiny amount of ambrosia before joining the rest of your siblings for dinner. 
Before the feast could begin, Chiron gave a speech about how Capture the Flag wasn’t the place to settle personal accounts and that maiming and killing was forbidden. And how this time it went too far. 
“I’ve talked to the head counsellor in question, and it will be taken seriously. There will be consequences, and I don’t ever want to see this happening ever again.”
Campers nodded along, and went back to their table. You devoured your food in no time, not forgetting to leave some for the offering. Then you rushed to shower and clean your face before running to the infirmary where you’d spend the next few nights. 
“I really hope you’ll wake soon,” you told unconscious Clarisse. “I’m not used to having someone else in here.”
You walked around, putting things back where they’re supposed to, and walked back to where Clarisse was. Then you stood again, and sat.
“I’m crazy. A few hours with someone who doesn’t talk to me and I’m going insane,” you sighed. “Well, while we’re here, I have a few things to say, to get off my chest really,” you started your rant. “You know Will, my little brother. Well, Will is capable of holding his own, he can fight… maybe not your siblings, cause you’re all very, very, violent. But you don’t have to put him this far away each time you know, he notices.
“I’m saying,” you rested your back against the bed, “it could be different, you could come up with a different kind of strategy. It works for sure, you win a lot, but we could win in a different way also. 
“You know I saw you,” you continued after a moment. “Being followed by these idiots. I thought you knew, and–,” you paused. “Ugh I should’ve tried to protect you. Warn you. It was my job. Why didn’t I think of that earlier? And it was hot as hell, you could’ve felt a little dizzy and I should’ve–”
“Shut up,” Clarisse wheezed. 
You whipped around, standing up before backing away. 
“Ar– Clarisse?” you whispered. “Are you feeling alright?” you walked to her. 
Her eyes were still closed, she frowned and shook her head slightly. 
“Waw, Ares kids are tougher than I thought,” you mumbled to yourself. 
You went to grab some water and a straw, and sat next to Clarisse, on the bed. 
“You should drink a bit.”
She opened her eyes, and stared at you, with a blank expression. You blinked, and smiled, holding up the straw to her mouth. You frowned when she refused to drink. 
“Drinking water is good for you,” you added. “Please stop staring at me like you want to murder me.”
She rolled her eyes and drank everything before closing her eyes again, and turning her head on the other side. 
“Well, I’ll be sleeping on this bed,” you pointed to the bed next to hers, “if you need anything, shout.” 
Clarisse kept quiet, so you went to bed and fell asleep very quickly. Clarisse, on the other hand, could not fall asleep. She turned head around and looked at you. You clearly slept well, with your mouth slightly opened. After a few minutes of staring outside the window, her stomach growled. She needed to eat. 
There had to be food in here – she looked around and spotted a basket full of fruits and cake. That’ll do. She gathered all her strength and tried to push herself up using her left arm and yelped in pain. That woke you up.
“What’s wrong?” you worried.
“Nothing,” Clarisse panted, biting her lips. 
You rushed to her and saw her shoulder was bleeding again.
“What happened?” you worried, turning the lights on. 
You grabbed clean bandages, and a clean towel with some alcohol and rushed back to her. Clarisse somehow managed to sit up, her right arm holding onto where her left shoulder was stabbed.
“Don’t cover it,” you pushed her hand away.
You started to remove the blood soaked bandages when she grabbed your hand to stop you. You gave her a questioning look. Clarisse quickly let go of your hand and looked away, breathing slowly. You opened your mouth, but then closed it and resumed your work. 
“What were you trying to do anyway?” you asked when the wound was clean. 
“I was hungry.”
“I–, I mean I did say to shout if you needed me but I was not thinking a pained scream with you bleeding again. Just a ‘hey y/n bring me food’ would’ve suffice. I would’ve been up. And that’s done. Good as new.”
Clarisse was still looking away from you which hid her head wound. When she turned her head toward you, you raised your hand to touch her face, but she flinched away hard at your sudden movement. You froze, too afraid to move again. No one talked or dared to breathe – the silence became heavy. Clarisse opened her eyes, and stared at you. She took your hand in hers and put it down. 
“I–,” you breathed, “I was just going to check your head wound,” you murmured. 
“Go ahead then,” she sat straighter. 
You raised your hands slower this time, and tilted her head. You tore off her bandage and put it back in place. Clarisse could hear her heartbeat pacing up. Her mind and body stopped functioning. What was happening? She kept thinking about how your hands felt so warm in the night breeze, and how pretty you looked so close. Then when you dropped your hands, she came back to reality.
“Your face is still good. Like always,” and gave her a small smile. 
“I’ll go eat,” she blurted out before leaving bed.
“Oh– okay. I can go to the kitchen and bring other things if you want.”
“No it’s fine,” she brushed you off, focused on the fruits in front of her. 
Which was hard with you so close behind her. You watched Clarisse eat the strawberries and blueberries and grapes, and then you grabbed an orange and started to peel it. Once you were done you handed it to her. She grabbed it slowly and whispered a low thank you before eating it. Clarisse also ate half of the cake Katie brought to you earlier. 
“Demeter kids, am I right,” you ate with her, “I don't know what they put in their cakes but I could eat them everyday. You should rest now,” you put your hand on her right arm and squeezed it. “You can barely stand.”
This time when Clarisse closed her eyes, she fell asleep instantly. And so did you. The next morning, you were the first one up. As soon as the sun rose, you were ready to start your day. You went to your cabin and washed up before grabbing a new toothbrush for Clarisse. You changed your clothes, and then went to the Ares cabin. You opened the door, and no one was up yet. You spotted the only empty bunk bed – Clarisse had one for herself – and saw her drawer next to it. You grabbed a new pair of pants, and a new camp-half blood tee and left in a hurry. Clarisse was up by the time you came back.
“I brought some of your clothes so you could change,” you gave her the clothes and the toothbrush. “I did sneak into your cabin, but I didn’t look through your stuff, don't worry about that,” you smiled. “I mean, except for your clothes – sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
“Well, I’ll let you change and I’ll be… not here for sure. I’ll go get breakfast!”
Clarisse watched you walk away, humming to some songs and when you were out of her sight, she got out of bed to change and clean herself. All she could think about was what happened yesterday. What even happened yesterday?
Before yesterday, you never spoke. She knew your name and vaguely knew what you looked like, but that was it. Since she arrived at camp, she didn’t once step into the infirmary – she didn’t need to. But now, for some reason, all she could think about was you. And how warm and soft your hands felt, how nice it felt to have you touch her face like that. 
By the time you came back, Clarisse went back to bed and laid down. You gave her what you brought and you ate together, picking off the same plate.
“How are you feeling this morning? Does it still hurt?” you pointed at her shoulder.
“I’m—,” she stopped. “It still hurts,” which was true. “A lot,” that wasn’t.. 
“Really?” you worried. “I thought you’d be doing fine, because you woke so early. I thought your body was healing faster than most campers. Well,” you picked a strawberry with your fork, “you’ll have to stay here longer then.”
“Can’t go against the doctor’s orders,” she shrugged. 
“True,” you smiled. “You finish this,” you pushed the plate toward her, “I’ll go get some supplies to change this,” you gently patted her shoulder. 
You rolled your chair away, and grabbed what you needed and rolled back to Clarisse. You hopped onto her bed, and started your routine. The wounds were healing perfectly fine, and very quickly, so it was odd that Clarisse was still in extreme pain. 
“I don’t think these wounds will scar,” you said. 
“A shame, they’d make me look tougher.”
“Look?” you huffed. “You don’t need those to look tougher, you already do. Scary even,” you joke, but not really. “I mean I’m not scared– anymore… but yeah, some people may say– think you do. Anyway, scar or not, you’ll always look and be the toughest.”
“Anymore?” she grinned. “Were you before?”
“I mean,” you dragged that last vowel, “I don’t think scared is the right word. More like– intimidated. I never went to these meetings for Capture the Flag because I knew if you disagreed or worse – dismissed my ideas – I would’ve cried.”
“I never would’ve done that,” she chuckled, “I don’t think you’re capable of having bad ideas. Lee’s constantly praising you and giving us your ideas that I always take into account.”
“Really?” you couldn’t stop your smile. 
She shrugged, and nodded. You playfully slapped her on the shoulder – the left one – and she yelped in pain.
“What the hell!”
‘Sorry!” you backed away, “it was a reflex.”
Clarisse ended up staying in the infirmary with you for three whole days, but she couldn’t fake it anymore when the wound completely healed and it was as if nothing had happened. The day she left, you cleaned up the room and sat alone on the couch, just like before. 
It was weird. Usually, you enjoyed the silence and solitude of the room, but now it was as if time had stopped. Every time you looked at the clock, it’d only been two minutes. And so were the next few days. Then on Friday, as usual, Lee came in to visit. You worked in silence – which was the first odd thing Lee noticed – then he saw how you always stared at the empty bed Clarisse used to stay in. 
“You’re being weird,” he said. 
“I’m not!”
“You’re never this quiet when I visit.”
“The past few days were a bit dry,” you explained casually.
“You can say you miss Clarisse, it’s fine,” he sat next to you on the couch. 
“I–,” you sighed. “It’s just… I was getting used to having someone with me.”
“Well maybe you should spend less time here and more time outside with, mmh I don’t know, Clarisse maybe.” 
“What if she doesn’t see me as a friend though? What if I’m imagining things? She hasn’t visited me once.”
“Then you come back here, and the end.”
“I hate you,” you groaned. “You’re no help to me at all!”
When the door suddenly flew open which startled both of you. You could recognise these hair anywhere. 
“Clarisse?” you called her name. 
She turned to face you, and a gasp came out of your mouth before rushing to her. 
“What happened to your face?” you held her arms.
Clarisse had a nasty cut going from her eyebrow to her hairline. She stared at you without saying anything before turning her gaze to Lee, and he spurted out some excuses and then left. But before he closed the door, he gave you a knowing look saying ‘see, she’s here’. 
“What happened?” you frowned. 
“I don’t know,” she whispered. She cleared her throat. “These few days of rest weren’t a good idea I think.”
“That’s–,” you paused, “not accurate.”
But before she could reply, you grabbed her arm and dragged her to the other side of the room, and let her sit on the chair. You grabbed clean cotton and some alcohol and started to clean her wound. You stood closely to her, between her legs with her hands holding onto your thighs to stay steady. 
“How did this happen anyway?” you asked.
“I was practising with my brothers.”
You frowned, and tried to step away but Clarisse was holding on tight to your thighs. 
“You got beat up by your brothers?” you repeated with a raised eyebrow. “I have a hard time believing this. You’re just better than them,” you said casually before patching up her wound. 
“Why do you know so much about my brothers’ skills?”
“I don’t! I know about yours. And from what I saw in the past, it’s always you leading the fight so I assumed that’s because you’re the best among them.”
“Mh,” she hummed, “well I guess you haven’t been doing your job very well if I’m not back to my old self yet,” she grinned. 
“Or,” you grinned back, “maybe it’s your skills. I think they need a little sharpening. Maybe I could spare some time and teach you if you need.”
She suppressed a smile. 
“Or, maybe you just want to spend time with me.”
You were close to each other, and Clarisse was still holding onto you. You crossed your arms, and stared at her. She was looking up at you, and you were looking down, which was a rare occurrence since she was much taller than you. 
“I’m doing a favour to you at best. But if you don’t want to,” you sighed, “it’s–.”
“I do,” she affirmed. 
That was the start of your friendship. Turns out Clarisse was really glad to hang out with someone that wasn’t her sibling. She was always the one seaking you out. At lunch, at dinner, during classes. All the time. Even when you were working, because somehow she always, always, ended up getting hurt. 
One of the first times she came in after your friendship hangouts was for a sprained ankle. She came in limping, and threw herself on her – not really – bed, groaning. 
“What happened?” you rushed to her side, worried. “You’re lucky I just came back in here!” 
Clarisse didn’t want to admit this, but that was exactly why she was here. She was on her way to her cabin when she spotted you walking around with your sisters and she was so focused on you that she tripped and fell. 
“I just fell,” she explained. 
“You just fell,” you repeated slowly. “Right. Well lucky you because this,” you patted her leg, “will heal in no time with this,” you brought her some ambrosia. 
“That’s it?” she asked.
“Yeah,” you smiled. 
“Oh.”
Then the next time she came, like the next few ones, were always injuries that required you to clean up the wound, and then patch her up. It went from tiny cuts to ‘I have a bruise here’ then showing you her perfectly unbruised skin to serious injuries that she got during Capture the Flag. 
“You know at this rate I feel like you’re doing this on purpose,” you joked when she came in for the umpteenth time. “What is it this time?”
She shrugged and sat on her designated bed, and laid down. You joined her and sat next to where her legs rested. She held up her hand and you took it before she dragged you to lay beside her. The beds in the infirmary weren’t big enough for two so you were half laying on Clarisse with her arm resting behind your head. 
“Did you paint that?” she asked.
The ceiling was painted by the Apollo cabin, all together you decided on a design and painted it over weeks worth of work.  
“Here,” you pointed at the top of the painting. “That was painted by me.”
“Two planets?” 
“The moon and Saturn,” you smiled.
“Linked by a thread?”
“Yea, the red string of fate. It’s from Chinese mythology. The old lunar matchmaker god, who is in charge of marriages, would tie together two people with this red string of fate and they are destined to be together, to be lovers regardless of time, place or circumstances. And no matter what, that thread will never break. It can stretch or get tangled up, but it never breaks.”
“And what about the moon and Saturn then?” she frowned, confused. 
“Because,” you paused. “Your braids like a pattern, love you to the moon and to Saturn,” you started to sing, “Passed down like folk songs, the love lasts so long.”
You turned your head to look at her only to see confusion on her face.
“Taylor Swift, seven,” you explained. “It’s great, we’ll have to listen to it someday.”
“Sure.”
“Really?” you looked at her excitedly.
“Yeah, you seem to like her so sure, I’ll listen with you,” she shrugged.
“Oh and that’s Will’s painting,” you showed her another corner. “That’s my dad and his lover, Hyacinthus. That’s where the name of the flower came from. Isn’t that kind of sweet how he named a flower after him.”
“I mean didn’t Apollo kill – by accident – Hyacinthus?” she grimaced. 
“Or Zephyrus was so jealous of my dad that he killed his lover, because he couldn’t get no man. My dad is an excellent archer. His aim never failed him. I don’t see how it’s possible for him to kill his lover. But gods being petty over these kinds of things, that I can believe.”
Clarisse hummed in agreement. 
“But enough about my father’s love life,” you shrugged, turning around to face Clarisse, “what about your dad? Still desperately trying to woo someone else’’s wife?”
“I don’t want to talk about my dad,” she yawned, then closed her eyes. 
“Okay.”
Just as you were about to continue talking, you noticed that Clarisse had fallen asleep. It was still early in the afternoon so it was still bright outside. You looked around and started to get up so you could pull the curtains but Clarisse grabbed your arm to pull you closer to her, locking you in her arms. 
“Don’t go,” she mumbled. 
“Okay,” you whispered and stayed still. 
The thing was, Clarisse was like a human radiator. Sleeping in her arms felt exactly like sleeping under tons of heavy blankets. This much warmth only resulted in falling asleep in Clarisse’s arms. When you woke, you were alone in bed.
“Slacking off during work hours,” Lee said standing next to you. 
“Fuck!” you jumped off bed. “Why were you staring at me sleeping!” you screamed.
“You weren’t there and it’s almost time for dinner. I’m being a nice brother!” he shouted back.
“Oh. Well, thanks!” you yelled, and gave him a smile. 
You both left  to join your siblings at the dining pavilion, and once you sat at your usual spot, you scanned the room in search of Clarisse. She was at her table like usual, and eating in silence, head hanging low. Your tactic of staring at her wasn’t working even though you knew she knew that you were staring at her. 
“What are you doing?” Lee kicked you with his elbow. “Did something happen with Clarisse?” he whispered. 
You shook your head. 
“I mean,” you leaned in whispering, “we did sleep together.”
Lee’s eyes widened, mouth wide open and he backed away in shock. 
“You– you slept together? In the infirmary?”
“Not slept together,” you rolled your eyes, “she fell asleep and did I.”
“Ah.”
“Anyways, she left without saying anything,” you explained. “And now, I feel like she’s avoiding me.”
“It’s only been a few hours.”
“She’s avoiding me, I’ve been staring at her for at least fifteen minutes and nothing. Not a glance from her.”
“Okay creep. But once again, just talk to her. It would solve all your problems here.”
“She’s the one who doesn’t talk. I talk. A lot!”
 “Trust me, I know. I just don’t think Ares kids are the best at talking, you know.”
“Fine.”
But as it turned out, Clarisse mastered the art of avoiding people – you – when she wanted to. Whenever you tried to talk to her, she would disappear. After a few days of trying, you gave up and told everything to Lee. 
“If she doesn’t want anything to do with me, then fine by me,” you frowned, holding back your tears. 
“I’m sure you’re overthinking this,” he tried to comfort you.
“Oh please,” you huffed. “You saw what happened this morning when I tried to talk to her. I’ll get over it,” you whispered. “I’ll get over her.”
Lee considered himself your best friend, and favourite brother. You never said these things, but he considered you his best friend and favourite sister. And as your best friend he had to do something, he had to talk to Clarisse and give her a piece of his mind. So that night, he was a man on a mission. He walked to the Ares cabin, and waited for Clarisse to either go or or go out. 
“Clarisse!” he called her name when she finally left her cabin.
“What do you want, Fletcher?” Clarisse sighed, clearly annoyed.
“Oh, so you do speak. And here I thought you lost that ability,” he snickered.
“I will punch you in the face.”
Lee rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.
“I’m not scared, unlike you.”
“What–.”
“You’re scared to talk to y/n for whatever reason, and I need you to pluck up the courage to talk to her because you’re making her miserable by avoiding her.”
“I–,” she froze. 
Was she making you miserable? 
“You’re just doing your thing and going to her when you need, when you want but have you ever thought about what she was thinking? No. You would if you’d just listened to her, but no,” he made a big gesture, “avoiding her like the plague.”
“Why are you telling me this?” she mumbled, looking away.
“I’m telling you that you made a mistake, and if you continue down this path you’re going to lose her for good. I’m not saying this for you, because I couldn’t care less about you, but y/n is my sister and I want her to be happy and for some reason you are making her happy,” he rolled his eyes, “so do whatever you want with this information.”
Clarisse stood there, not saying anything, watching Lee walking away. But then he stopped and turned around to walk toward her again. 
“Before I forget,” Lee added before throwing his strongest punch in her face. “For making my sister cry.”
And he ran away, before Clarisse could punch him back. But Clarisse was too busy thinking about you to think about Lee and what he just did. If it weren’t for that afternoon in the infirmary, she probably would’ve ran to you so you could take care of her, but now, she couldn’t. So she went to sleep, wishing that tomorrow it’ll be better.
You were one of the first campers to arrive for breakfast. You ate slowly, and by the time the dining pavilion was filled with campers, you were done. But you stayed and listened to your siblings talk. Just as you were about to leave, Clarisse came in and you dropped your fork in shock. She had a black eye and her cheek was bruised, with her nose in a weird shape. She looked at you, as you stood urgently. But then you froze – should you go to her? You sat back down, still staring at Clarisse. 
“What happened to her?” Will whispered to you.
“I don’t know,” you whispered back. 
“You don’t? I thought you were friends.”
“Yea, me too,” you sighed. 
Clarisse was walking to her table, dragging her feet along and when she walked past the Apollo table, you stood and grabbed hand, forcing her to face you. When you noticed several heads staring at you, you dragged Clarisse away and brought her to the archery field. 
“What happened to your face?” you held her face in your hands.
“Nothing,” she leaned into your touch. 
“Clarisse,” you whispered. “Just talk to me please.”
“Lee came to have a little chat with me yesterday.”
“He did this?” you gasped. 
“Yeah.”
You held your hand to your mouth, in shock and to hide a tiny part of you that wanted to laugh.
“And?” you asked.
“He said I was making you miserable.”
“That’s not true!” you insisted.
“I ignored you. And I shouldn't have. I don’t–” she hesitated, “want to lose you,” she mumbled.
“Then just talk to me, we’re friends too.”
“I– I don’t know,” she stepped back and took a deep breath. “I was confused! I– I don’t know I like it when you take care of me,” she admitted in a low voice. “I’m being weird and–.”
“You’re not,” you held her arms. “It’s not weird to love physical touch. I mean, I just assumed that it was your love language you know.”
“What?” she asked, confused. 
“I think what you like is when I hold you or when I touch you because you love physical touch,” you began, “and you were doing everything to visit me, pretending to be a bad fighter and getting hurt on purpose.”
“No that’s no–,” she shook her head.
“It’s fine! My love language is quality time, and there’s nothing wrong—.”
“No it’s different–.”
“It’s not! It’s fi—.”
“It’s because I like you,” she blurted out. 
Oh. You couldn’t help but smile at her confession. 
“It’s not funny!” she huffed, crossing her arms. 
“I’m not laughing! I’m… happy about this outcome,” you rested your head against her arms and looked up. “Because I like you too Clarisse.”
“Really?” she stared at you.
You nodded. 
“I’m sorry about ignoring you,” she added.
“Mmh,” you smiled, “I accept your apology. But you’ll have to make it up to me.”
“Anything you want.”
“A kiss?” 
Clarisse uncrossed her arms and held your face instead and leaned in to kiss you eagerly. And you happily gave in, wrapping your arms around her waist. 
“Mmh, keep doing that and I’ll forgive you, no doubt.”
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theyanderespecialist · 8 months
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Base Yandere Lord Dimitrescu Headcanons (Genderbent Lady Dimitrescu) (Resident Evil Village)
[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! Welcome back to another chapter! In this chapter it is Lord Daddy Dimitrescu as a yandere, he is the genderbent of Lady Dimitrescu. The Artwork I have for this is on Tumblr, wattpad, youtube, etc. I own it as I commissioned it. I hope you all enjoy this chapter here!]
(Disclaimer: Lord Daddy Dimitrescu is the genderbent version of Lady Dimitrescu, and he is not yandere in canon as her. This is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all. Simping for fictional characters is fine, just do not be gross or illegal about it. Also, rule 63 is if there is a female character on the internet it has a male version and vice versa. Also, Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon! Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life. NO MATTER HOW MUCH THEY ARE MOMMIES AND DADDIES AND OR HOT LOL)
But let's be honest if Daddy D was yandere for me I would DROP EVERYTHING For this man!
Still, yanderes are not ideal… poo…
(Once Again, Enjoy this!)
-Base Yandere Lord Dimitrescu Headcanons-
.Lord Daddy D (yes that is what I am going to call him in this and you cannot stop me XD) is one of the four lords.
.You are the child of the local tavern owner in the village.
.You were to take Lord Dimitrescu's wine from him to transport out of town, this is how you met the lord.
.Instantly he wanted you, and he would have you.
.You would be a good partner and parent to his daughters.
.He wanted to keep you and he will.
.He now would come down to the tavern very often. Where he would see you working as a waiter at your father's tavern.
.You were a dutiful child and he could not wait to have you. To taste you in more than one way~
.He obviously has an excitement for how large he is compared to you.
.His sheer size, he could use you like a toy on his manhood.
.The idea alone excites him.
.Also he could make love to you standing up lifting you up and down on him.
.Almost wrapping a hand around half of your waist.
. Your size to him is something he likes very much.
.It makes him the more dominant one and is able to make you his easily.
.As a yandere he is very possessive and controlling and demanding.
.You belong to him and you should do as he says when he says it.
.You will be his nice little spouse for him.
.He has a daddy kink
.So he would be fatherly to you and guide you as a caretaker a lot of the time.
.He is also the type of yandere that will love to worship your body over and over making love to you until you pass out.
.To make you feel like you might shatter upon him.
.He is also very rough with you in the bedroom.
.able to make you cry out in delight and come undone upon him.
.He can be also a bit of a jealous yandere.
.He wants to be your one and only.
.If any other man or woman defiled you then they will be killed.
.If you were with anyone else besides him he would punish you.
.You should have none better and been a good future spouse and waited for him. Even though you did not know he would want you.
.Once he does punish you and kills all that have been with you.
.He will claim you, marking you as his and his alone, so no one will ever be able to have a claim on you again.
.He will most likely brand you with his house crest and carve his name into your collarbone.
.So everyone knows that you are his and belong to him and him alone.
.You will be moved to the castle to be his bed warmer and future spouse.
.Only his daughters and him could speak to you.
.If you tried to run the villagers are more than willing to capture you again and to bring you back to him.
.Where you would be punished by him for daring to leave then he will make love with you for days on end until you know your place with your future husband.
.He deals with rivals by torturing them and throwing them into the dungeon.
.You will be a good partner for him, he will make sure of it.
.He confesses to you by having a candlelit dinner.
.It is beyond romantic, if you say yes, you will be expected to marry him in post haste.
.If you say no, well he will threaten your family.
.He was a lord, what would your father do if he tavern was closed.
.If you still say no he will just have your father give him your hand that way you cannot say no.
.In the end you will marry him, it is just better for you if you are willing.
.He will hold your family over your head and you will be forced to marry him.
.To become his spouse and to warm his bed. If possible to carry his seed and give him more children.
.He will not stop until you are his mark his words.
.You belong to house Dimitrescu, you belong to Lord Daddy D.
(Now should there a mini-series of Vampire lord Daddy D >:3
[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS I hope that you all enjoyed this and stay sexy all of my sexy muffins!]
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luna-writes-stuff · 1 year
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The type my favourite Arcane characters would fall for:
With Viktor, Jayce, Mel, Vi, Caitlin, Ekko, Jinx, Silco, and Vander
———————————————————————
Viktor:
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Viktor is very much a person who prefers solitude over social interactions. He focuses on his job more than anything, and can not quite find the time nor energy to do anything after that. Though he loves to find solace in lonesome rooms, he needs a little sunlight occasionally; metaphorically and literally. Someone who drops in once every two hours to get him a drink, a note or simply sit next to him to distract him from his project momentarily. You could sit on an empty chair at his side, observing his work from a safe distance, careful to not shove your nose in there. Tiny questions would escape you, such as “what is that?” Or “why are you using that?”, and he would be delighted to answer them. Sometimes, he’d pull off his goggles to look at you shortly, a tiny smile gracing his face, before he returns to his work. You’d get along with Jayce quite easily - maybe too easy, but it’s all in good manners. Viktor tries to make time for you and take short breaks, but more often than not, he gets so caught up, he cannot afford the distraction. Jayce is more than happy to entertain you for the time being; he rather enjoys your presence as well.
——
Jayce:
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Jayce oozes charisma. Now usually, fire and fire don’t go well, but match his energy, and this is man is smitten. Absolutely at loss for words. Desperately in love, if you will. You tease him; the words disappear on his tongue. Now come the heart-eyes. You’d walk down the halls, and you could simply feel his eyes on you. He’d halt any conversation he held and stare at you in silence. Respectfully. Would you work in the same lab as him, this man cannot focus to save his life. Your jokes, your smile, your witty remarks….He’s gone. The worst is when you radiate serotonin. A job gone right, a good song, a funny joke? Anything that makes you smile, makes his heart skip a step. You know that hollow feeling in your stomach, but the good one? That’s him. He’s quick to pick up on little things you do once you get excited: Clap your hands, squeal, jump up and down, squeezing your hands in fists? He sees it. And there is that pit again.
——
Mel:
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Listen, this woman is so busy and booked, she tends to miss out on the little things. She needs someone who will take little times a day where they will take a short walk, or do some painting together. Anything to get her mind off of work or business for a short second. A spontaneous decision often takes her aback, as she likes to plan things out, but once she trusts you, it’s all in, baby. During council meetings, you’ll sit on the side, silently calming her down when things get hectic or chaotic. You help her plan things out, but leave room for the fun things. She treasures this so much, she cannot even begin to explain it to you. Small touches on your arm or hand constantly to remind her you’re still there. Ironically enough, it keeps her from overworking. You’re simply so soothing to her.
——
Caitlin:
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Bamf. Do I need to elaborate? Caitlin is the type of person to see the good in everyone, no matter how tiny it will be. ‘How bad can they be?’ is a regular question from her. She can be attracted to anyone, really. But if there was one type to capture her heart, it’s the bamf. The person who says things as they are, does as they please, witty remarks, teasing winks etc. The impression you leave on her is large, and she is in awe immediately. Even if she claims to not be amused. She is. Her heart is almost beating out of her chest. Someone get her some help, please. If you start flirting with her, this poor woman does not know what to do. Her cheeks turn red, her ears heat up, she freezes on the spot. But she loves it so much, though she would never admit it. And it’s great to get her flustered.
——
Vi:
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Sure, Vi would love a badass and independent partner. But when that partner has a soft spot for children? Always sees the good in everything? Smiles when someone says hi? Don’t get me started. The way your voice changes when you speak to someone in a friendly manner: gone. Bye-bye, Vi. She is a bit rough around the edges, and can come of as cold at times. You contradict that in the best ways possible. Your kind waves to everyone you pass, the ‘how are you?’ when trying to pay for something, your loving hugs…All the things she’d 100% fall for. No question about it. She insists on holding your hand at all times. She says it is because you like it, but let’s be honest. She is not planning on letting you go and likes to let everyone know, you are indeed taken. 10/10 the type to make-out in public when someone takes your friendliness a bit too extreme. Her hand tugging on your waist, the glare shot towards the one flirting with you? Oof.
——
Jinx:
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Jinx has a teasing tone, as everyone might know. Though she could use someone to work against that, she would not necessarily find herself attracted to it. If you decide to throw a confetti bomb her way though? You just got yourself a new girlfriend. She is the type to cause mayhem anywhere and everywhere. If she finds someone to do that with, her heart is taken. There are times her emotions tend to get the best of her. You’ll have to calm her down gradually before she does anything stupid. Offer a listening ear, a supportive arm, and she’ll eventually calm down. She loves to do stupid things with you, but she needs breaks. Sit with her and help her tinker with new ideas. Your voice can truly be enough to simply soothe her.
——
Ekko:
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Ekko has a soft spot for nerds, no one can convince me otherwise. And I’m not talking technology nerd. I’m talking info-dumping nerd. Someone who knows a little bit about everything. With anything he encounters, you are able to tell a fun story behind that. “Is that a raven?” “Actually, it’s a crow. Did you know crows actually remember people and voices and can even hold a grudge against you? Even worse, crows gossip. What? They do.” Man has fallen head over heels. Your little ranting and rambling makes him feel all giddy inside. He actually used to hate it, but as he grew to realize it was love, he began to accept it. Now, the feeling is welcomed. He can listen to you talk for ages, as cheesy as it might sound. And he remembers everything you tell him. Sometimes he wishes he didn’t, so you could tell him again. You know you ramble, and you have often been told to shut up. So, when you notice you’re ranting again, you always stop suddenly, offering a meek ‘sorry’. He will not hesitate to shake his head wildly, grabbing your hands in reassurance, claiming he wants to hear more. And it’s not to make you feel better, he genuinely enjoys your little talks. It’s one of the things that makes you so special to him. He treasures every single word spoken to him.
——
Silco:
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Now, Silco is not an easy one to fall. Not at all. Even with you, it might not have been love at first sight. You had to grow on him. But your mind, and your strategies? They were phenomenal since day one. And though he simply shrugged at it at first, he found himself being attracted to you for that exact reason. You had a solution to every problem, and you had a way of thinking that he simply adored. And from there, he started noticing other things about you. Had your eyes always held that sparkle in them? Were your hands always that delicate? Had your voice always sounded that soothing? It wasn’t until you once laid a hand on his shoulder to shake him out of dreamland, that he realized that he had indeed fallen. Because that touch seemed to linger on his shoulder even as you walked back to your seat at the table. And your eyes silently asking him if he was okay, suddenly looked so different. And then it all clicks. From that day on, his behavior towards you completely changes. Now he wants you in the room with him. Now he wants your opinion on everything. Now you have to follow him wherever he goes. He needs you closer to him now than ever before.
——
Vander:
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Listen. Dad friend meets mom friend. It’s meant to be, what else can I say? Your warm-hearted personality, the way you kneel down when talking to children, your reasonable words always interrupting fights. That’s just a short list of things he adores about you. Being the voice of reason, but with that compassionate tone is something he greatly admires. Perhaps more than people usually would. But of course, carrying the day on your shoulder and trying to remain kind to others can take quite a toll on a person. At night, when you’re sure others will no longer come look for you, you tire yourself with thoughts of the day. He often comes to visit you around this time so you will not be alone. You share your worries with each other, but also try to encourage each other to keep it up. Those talks are something so precious and intimate to him. And he keeps on doing these even after being your partner through the years.
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kiss-me-muchoo · 1 year
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𝐍𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 || 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_𝐒𝐢𝐱 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧, 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞. 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞, 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥, 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬. 
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐏 (𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐟 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐭💋), 𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬 (𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐜, 𝐛𝐮𝐭, +𝟏𝟖). 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐬. 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓, 𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥, 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞𝐬, 𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐆𝐎𝐃… 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐘𝐀 𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐎 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝.
𝐀/𝐍_ 𝐃𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐲𝐚 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤? (𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐲 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐨’𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭), (𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬), (𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲, 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝)
✰ 𝙄𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙓 (𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚) 
♪ ♫ 𝙋𝙀𝘿𝙍𝙊 𝙋𝙇𝘼𝙔𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏 (𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩)
____________________________________
「 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐲: 𝐑𝐞𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐦𝐞, 𝐈 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐭 」 extra 02
Both of you knew you shouldn’t be having sex so early. Although it’s been six weeks, the Asian method of wrapping yourself that Maria taught you was working; you could easily get pregnant again. 
However, that wasn’t stopping Joel from hitting your cervix with the tip of his cock. 
“Does it hurt?” He was constantly asking you. While your answers were low moans and scratches on his back. “Tell me, y/n. Please…”
“N-no, it’s fine-, it’s okay, Joel” you would manage to say somehow, buried in the pleasure your husband was giving you. Feeling he was very close to finishing, by the way you could feel him pulsing inside you. 
“You’re so-“Before he could finish, he dives into the roundness of your breasts. Everything feels smooth, like the sound of fairy dust.
Until Joel decided to suck on your right breast. 
He stopped hearing your moans, only some soft sighs. The scratches on his shoulders and your arched back continued, but no moans. 
So he stopped.
“What?. What happened, petal?” you shake your head, hoping he will brush your silence away and keep seeking your and his pleasure.
“Nothing. It’s okay, love” You aren’t pleased to see he isn’t nodding. Joel is hesitant, looking down at you. “Joel…”
“No, I can see you’re in pain. You have to tell me….” you sigh, but you don’t want to tell him the truth.
“It’s okay. Just a cramp” The passion is gone somewhere. You sit on your elbows when Joel slides out of you, leaving you confused.
“I guess we should wait. I don’t want to hurt you.” He gives you a plain smile, which you don’t correspond. He gets his clothes, and once he’s ready, he leaves without saying anything else. 
No kiss for you, no smile, no goodbye to Cerise sleeping next door, no messages for Ellie. He’s just gone.
You blame the postpartum, but there are tears in your eyes.
__
You don’t like how much Cerise can open her eyes and stay awake. She was a month and a half old. She should be sleeping most of the time and barely open her eyes. 
But Cerise wasn’t a normal baby because your pregnancy wasn’t normal. 
You got pregnant in the winter, in the wild and most violent months of your life. Probably a little after you got captured with Ellie by David and his cult. 
You feared that all the pain, stress, and panic you went through ended up impregnating in the baby. 
But Cerise was a calm, active, and tiny baby girl. 
She was an angel, and all you could offer her right now wasn’t working. 
You had clogged milk ducts. In other words, mastitis.
It wasn’t a big deal. But it was making you feel like a failure. For Cerise, and now Joel. Who couldn’t even look at you after the failed accomplishment of morning sex
It would be better with some cabbage leaves and rotating Cerise’s position while breastfeeding her. 
And when you open the door of her nursery, finding the little meatball stretching in her little nest, you remember you’re a good mother. Although it doesn’t stop you from feeling a little blue.
Ellie enters the house, greeted with a strong smell of sausage and gravy. 
“Ellie, Is that you?” She smiles after hearing your voice from the living room. “Yes! I was able to leave early?”
“Really? Or you just ditched school?” Ellie giggles. “No, y/n. I finished early.”
“Okay, then, welcome. Wash your hands and help me get ready for dinner” She leaves her little backpack and boots at the entrance, washes her hands in the bathroom near the living room, and proceeds to follow the smell of food.
But she’s surprised to see you hanging some strange lights in the living room. Ellie walks closer, bumping into Cerise’s bassinet. The baby wakes up instantly, startled by the sudden movement. But the newborn doesn’t cry; she only opens her eyes. 
“Shit. I mean-sorry” you turn, careful to not fall from the stairs. Ellie takes Cerise in her arms, and Cerise is happy to be in her sister’s arms. Which surprised you because most of the time, Ellie asked permission to take the baby.
“It’s okay. It’s time to eat for her” It is uncomfortable to even consider breastfeeding her. But you manage to hide the feeling. 
“Joel is going to kill you when he finds out you left the town by yourself” Days ago, you decided to get some things for Cerise and the house.
“If someone named Ellie doesn’t tell him, he’ll never know”  Rosalie and Rae, your best friends, had taken a little trip to an abandoned grocery store near Jackson. They got some batteries, lighters, and things that now were useless, like neon lights, and a little gift for Cerise: a mermaid cabbage patch. 
“I won’t. The comics and t-shirts you brought me were sick” On your little trip, you took some Chinese lights, my little pony toys and clothes for Ellie and you, and a new jacket for Joel. The communist system you lived in wouldn’t stop you from getting things for your family. 
“Good. Can you bring Cerise?” She nods, placing the child in your arms. Ellie doesn’t turn away because you put a blanket covering everything. 
“Ugh… fuck” you whisper. Ellie frowns, worried. “What? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, it’s just…I’m not nursing her” She keeps frowning at your words. She isn’t understanding.
“Why? Is Cerise hurting you?” You shake your head before gasping again.
“No-well. She is hurting me, but it’s my fault. My breast milk is stuck. It’s clogged.” Ellie’s eyes widened. She took a seat next to you. She wasn’t good with emotions or words. But she would try for you.
“So…That’s why Joel has been a little distant?” You look at her, shocked. 
“What?, What do you mean? Is it obvious that he’s been distant?” Ellie curses herself after making you anxious. But she knows it’s worse to lie. Because you hate lies and betrayals more than anything.
“A little. But I thought it was because of Cerise. Both of you are tired, and you didn’t have time alone” You nod. But it made you more anxious. “Is there anything I could do to help?”
“Not really, sweets. According to Maria, it could improve with cabbage,” Ellie doesn’t know what to say. She just stays there, caressing your shoulder.
“Have you gone to the doctor?” You nod.
“Dr. Coppel said that they would send someone to get medicine outside. If not, they’ll do a natural remedy, I guess. Maybe Wednesday or Thursday.” You explain calmly.
“That’s tomorrow or the next day. That’s great news!” She smiles at you, and you do the same. “I’ll go to the doctor with you.”
“Don’t say anything to Joel, please. I wish he could come with me to the doctor, but I don’t want him to know about the mastitis. “ Ellie thinks your husband should know, but she can’t blame your insecure side. “Done. I won’t say anything to the old man.” 
“Okay. Cerise is also getting an appointment to see how she’s doing” You uncover yourself, only to reveal a sleepy Cerise in your chest. Both of you smile at the baby, knowing that, in the end, everything that mattered was her.
—-
Ellie waits on the porch for an hour till Joel comes from patrol. She wasn’t letting Joel make you feel weird again. 
She looks at the man, climbing the stairs with his empty holster.
“Hey, kid. Where’s y/n and the baby?” Ellie indicates that you two are inside with her head.
“Why are you giving me that look?” He asks, crossing his arms. 
“Because you are being an asshole with y/n again” Joel frowns, slightly worried.
“Did she tell you anything?” Ellie keeps looking at the empty street. 
“She needs you. She needs to know you’re here,” Joel sighed. Slightly uncomfortable that Ellie was telling him that. He wishes you decided to talk to him about it. But apparently, neither Ellie was entirely sure about your feelings. 
“I’ll talk to her, promise” he extended his hand to her, and when he offered a little smile, Ellie smiled too. “Okay…”
You didn’t hear Joel was home when you were serving the plates of food. Sausages, gravy, and non-flour biscuits. Between the food and Cerise sleeping beside the table, you didn’t hear anything from your husband and Ellie’s conversation.
To your surprise, when you turn around to get some forks and spoons, a pair of warm and big hands settle on your hips. 
“Hey, mama. How ya doin’?” His sweet tone instantly makes you smile. Securing his grasp on your body, your hands wrap his. 
“Hungry, but fine.” Joel hums, pressing his left cheek against your right soft cheek. He doesn’t like how much time you spend wrapped in that enormous fabric bundle. But he had to admit that to be a month and a half recovered, you looked amazing.
“And how is my little rainbow?” His question makes you giggle. You point at the bassinet, and Joel notices Cerise wearing a short sleeve onesie of birds under some little pants of pink and green dots. And her socks, shaping her tiny feet, Joel wanted to die out of cuteness. “Is she crying a lot again?”
You shake your head. Cerise wasn’t crying anymore because you started giving her formula instead of forcing her to suck on your nonexistent milk. 
“She’s fine. Maybe she has colics, or she gets gassy” Joel nodded. “I’ll go to the doctor tomorrow…”
“Yeah, I’m coming with you” you look mortified. You wanted Joel to come with you, but he couldn’t know about the mastitis. 
“Oh, don’t worry about it. Ellie is coming with me,” Joel shrugs.
“No. She won’t be absent from school. I can easily take the day off. I’m coming….” you sigh. You can hide it.
“Okay.” He helps you with glasses for water and leaves them on the table. Immediately looking at the food. “But she’s coming too. The appointment is after school.”
“Great. That looks good…” he preferred having you cook and loved helping you. He never was a great cook, not even before the outbreak. So have you made him realize that cooking was fun? 
“Oh God, this is amazing…” he says after grabbing a fork and getting a piece of his sausage with gravy, with his mouth complete. 
“One, don’t eat with your mouth full. Two, we’re supposed to wait for Ellie to start eating” Joel rolls his eyes and gently drops the fork. “Look, she’s already here.”
“Patience. If you had more, you’d have fewer grays,” you laugh at Ellie’s words. Joel rolls his eyes again.
“Shut up…” the man says, looking at both of you laughing at him.
“I was saying… I made sausages with Rae, Danny, and Rosalie in the morning..” you say after calling Ellie and taking a seat at the small table. 
“Danny?” Joel asks. Ellie is the first to notice the jealousy in his tone.
“Yeah. Rae’s best friend….” you say, looking distracted, checking on Cerise. Then centering on the food, you leave a little kiss on Cerise’s temple, and you return your gaze to Joel.
“Oh…” he just admits. 
“He came to say hi last week at dinner. Remember?” Ellie nodded, capturing Joel’s attention.
“Yep. He was super nice, just like Rosalie and Rae” This time, you nodded. Finishing the food and drinking water to slip everything, you turn to see Cerise again.
“You are spending a little too much in the kitchen?” You frown at your husband. 
“I have to return to school once Cerise is 4 months old. I’m having a good time doing other stuff than just teaching” You didn’t mean to sound defensive. So you tried to soothe it with a little smile at your family.
“And that’s great” You couldn't describe why Joel questioned your free time activities. It didn’t make sense if it was for Danny; he was younger than you and saw you as an older sister.
“Okay…” you almost whisper. Suddenly dinner feels awkward. Ellie just flashed her eyes from you to Joel. Cerise, yawning, captured your attention again.
“Oh, hi, baby!” You call when she starts opening her eyes and stretching. Her matted hair was adorable. Joel liked to say it looked like yours. Then her tiny nose and doll lips. You could admire her for hours.
“Looks like you digested your food already,” Ellie laughs, looking at you.
“Yeah, and it stinks” Joel stood up and immediately carried Cerise in her arms.
“I’ll change her diaper. Just take the plates to the washer. I’ll clean,” you nod. When your husband leaves, you look at your empty plate of food.
“He’s an asshole…” you shake your head at Ellie’s words.
“No. He’s an amazing partner, but….” you go quiet.
“Sometimes he’s an asshole” Slowly, you end up nodding.
“Maybe not exactly an asshole, but he's hard to read,” she nodded. She helped you to clean the table as you collected the pile of plates. 
“What about the feeding?” Ellie heard you sighing. But when she turned, you showed her a little milk bottle. 
“That was fast” In the kitchen, your laugh echoed. 
“I did it before dinner. Cerise likes semi-cold milk, apparently.” Ellie frowned.
“She’s a weird baby” It’s impossible to not laugh.
“A small weird baby,” Joel comes back. Thankfully you had hidden the milk under your hoodie.
“Well, good night. I’m taking a shower and going directly to bed. Thanks for dinner, y/n” Both of you nod at the girl. 
Joel hands you Cerise, and he takes a place to clean the dishes.
“Thanks,” you offer before leaving. 
“Hey…” he calls you. And he’s trying to make you feel better with an apologetic look. He knows you are struggling in silence.
“Thanks for everything” You nod, but he comes closer to hug you and Cerise. “I love you.”
“Ouch!” He flicks away right after he hears you complaining, looking to see what he has done.
“What?” Instantly, you smile. Trying to hide the pain he brought to your breasts after hugging you.
“Nothing… my ankle, that’s it,” he nods, completely forgetting about it when you close the distance again. 
“I love you too, Joel,” he smiles, leaning to kiss Cerise on the head and you. The passionate kiss on the lips comforts you. You feel Cerise’s weight is lighter because of Joel, just like your stress.
“She’s gonna be fine tomorrow. No more cries and more time for us. Time to time, baby,” you nod, smiling again. He offers another sweet kiss before letting you go.
He says he will join you in bed after washing the dishes. 
Quietly, you feed Cerise with the plastic bottle of milk.
__
It’s slightly colder the following day. To be honest, you’re not excited about snow. Your skin will likely be dry and burning. However, you love that now Cerise can wear tiny winter onesies. 
Cerise’s disheveled hairs look adorable with her rainbow onesie. Pink, yellow, green, blue, and violet lines wrap your daughter’s tiny shape. 
“You look adorable, little love” She’s unconsciously poking her tongue out. At the same time, her eyes are barely open, and she’s stretching her arms. 
“We’re going to the doctor. You’ll be checked cause your daddy, sister, and I need to know how you are doing, bug,” you inform her after grabbing your bag full of diapers, another change of clothes, etc. 
“I love you so, so, so much, baby.” You can’t stop talking to her like she understands you. But you kiss her entire face before picking her up and going downstairs. 
Joel would find you and Cerise in the dining hall to eat with Ellie. Then the four of you would go to see the doctor. 
The pain caused by your mastitis was slightly better with the cabbage. But you prayed the doctor had the medicine or remedy available. 
As you leave the house, you smile at everyone while pushing Cerise’s stroller. You no longer care about women; some men judge you by the age difference between your husband and you. You don’t care about people thinking of you for being very immature to have a kid and take care of a teenager. 
Fuck them. 
You pick Ellie at school, and she offers an extensive and bright smile when she spots you with Cerise. 
“Hi!. And hello, baby!” She leaned to brush Cerise’s cheek with her knuckle.
“How was school today?” The girl rolled her eyes as you and the girl walked towards dinner. 
“Math is a pain in the ass. We don’t need it anymore!” You giggle. And should advise Ellie to mind her mannerisms and vocabulary. However, she would always curse.
“Yeah, but at least it’s outstanding that you were educated nowadays,” she shrugged, probably irritated. 
Ellie opened the big brown door, revealing a crowded dining hall. Near the bar where you collected the food, you spotted Joel.
Your smile instantly fades as you see he’s not alone. Freya was sitting in front of him. 
Her hair was again in that silly braid. White sweater and jeans, nothing extravagant. But sure, she was twirling a strand of hair that you swore she disheveled on purpose to flirt.
“Oh no, that bitch….” Ellie mumbles, and you gently punch her arm. “Ellie!”
“What? Didn’t Joel tell her to fuck off? And now she’s there again?” You sigh. But thankfully, the woman leaves, laughing with her husband. Like they were having the funniest conversation. 
“Don’t say anything. Let’s see if he spits it out by himself,” the girl nods as you walk toward his table. 
“Hey…” Joel calls after seeing his family. He kisses your cheek and Cerise’s head when you sit with him. “I have bad news.”
“What?” You ask, looking slightly irritated. Because after seeing him with Freya, you’re uncomfortable.
“I believe Freya is going to be working with Dr. Coppel this afternoon,” you roll your eyes, exaggerating. But you like that your husband was telling the truth.
“She came to say hi. I think she’s better; she said she’s hanging out with a guy from morning patrols” Ellie is analyzing Joel with daggers in her eyes. You only nod. Because what else are you supposed to say?
“Oh, good for her” Instead, you pay attention to Tommy, who spotted you and gives you a smile and greetings.
“Are you-“ Ellie was the first to loudly say hi to Tommy. And you thanked him because Joel was probably about to ask if you were jealous. 
“How is my little girl?” He asks to look for Cerise. Tommy showers her with praise and cute nicknames after passing her to his uncle. 
“She’s getting prettier every week I see her” Joel starts joking with his brother and makes dinner nicer than you expected. 
He shares that he wants to make a Thanksgiving festival with the town. And that you and Rosalie should organize it.
Meanwhile, Joel can analyze your features. Wondering if you were jealous of Freya. You were in your right to be jealous, though. Joel had yet to admit he was jealous of you spending too much time with this guy named Danny. He was young, smiley, worked in the kitchen, and was sweet. Everything he wasn’t, but then, he had no right to feel like that. 
“Well, we’re heading to the doctor now. But we’ll see you on Saturday, right?” Tommy nodded. The family grills were sacred, and now that the family was a little bigger, it turned out that it was better like that.
“Sure. Keep the weekly storage for Saturday, then” You nodded, smiling. 
After some goodbyes, Joel takes the stroller and helps you with the baby on your way to the little clinic of the town. 
You talked with Ellie about her comics and your trip some days ago. 
It was getting late, but the town was safe. And the clinic wasn’t very far from your house. 
It’s rusty. Without electricity, the clinic would look like it was in 1910. However, it smelled nice, and it was very clean. 
You wait with your family a little. Then Dr. Coppel called. A man who was likely 70 years old greeted you with a warm smile. 
Ellie decided to wait outside.
Everything is fine until you enter the office. 
“Told you I was going to be here,” Freya says to Joel, giving him a stupid smile. “…y/n, wow. You look amazing….”
“Thanks,” you reply coldly. 
“I see you know Freya….” Dr. Coppel says, taking Cerise and placing her on their little table.
“Yes…” you admit, doubting to add; yes, she ruined my pregnancy announcement and flirted shamelessly with my husband.
“Wonderful. Let’s check this little girl here,” the old man indicated. 
You don’t like how Freya has to touch Cerise. It feels like she’s judging your baby. Wondering if she looks more like you or Joel.
But your partner reassures you by holding your hand. You don’t look at him, but your hand squeezes him back.
“She’s perfect. Weight, height, lungs, everything looks great. Good job, parents,” you sigh, relieved. 
“It would be perfect if we had vaccines. This age is vital for creating antibodies. However, our world might be cleaner, making people like her prone to develop better systems” It's incredible what he says; you are entirely paying attention to him, nodding and comprehending him.
“So we should let her be. But protect her to avoid other types of infections?” Dr.Coppel giggles.
“Exactly. Have fun with her, let her play in the backyard, bear feet, and eat cold drinks in winter. But don’t push her too much, like let her eat mud or touch snow without gloves” Joel also nods, paying attention to the doctor. 
You notice Freya looking at Joel and occasionally at you. It’s disturbing, and you really want to leave.
“Okay, Cerise is fine. We’ll see her again when she turns 4 months old. Now, I’ll get your medicines ". You loved that Dr. Coppel backed you up and avoided asking about your mastitis in front of Freya and Joel. Knowing that you wanted to handle the problem by yourself. 
“Thank you, doctor” he nods with a gentle smile and leaves.
Freya places Cerise’s onesie back, and she hands her to you.
“She’s beautiful…” When Joel notices you staying quiet, he decides to thank the woman. “If you ever need help with her milk supply. You could ask for a natural formula. I Can make it. We could also look and use a dry nurse for her.” 
“Uhm, thanks, but no?. Are you suggesting that I can’t feed her?” You're getting tired of her.
“Love…” Joel calls you, placing a hand on your shoulder.
“No. Jesus, y/n. I’m just offering my help,” she dares to say back. But rage invaded you after she decided to open her mouth again. “I just thought that with your problem of mastitis….”
Your eyes are wide open. Joel looks suspiciously at you but is also surprised.
“You have mastitis?” Shame is all you can feel. You stand up furiously, holding Cerise with one arm, and point at the woman in front of you with the other.
“Listen, I’m getting tired of this. It’s not my problem that you can’t accept your husband’s death. You ruined the news of my pregnancy, and now this?” She’s stunned, apparently not aware of your reaction.
“Stop, y/n,” you send a killer look to your husband. 
“You stop. Always defending her!” Joel stays quiet this time. So you turn to the red-haired again. 
 “You’re older than me. Act like that.” Maybe she was crazy because she looked like she wanted to throw herself at you. 
“How dare you? You don’t know anything,” she whispers, angered too.
“I don’t care. Do whatever you want with him.” You point at Joel. “But stay away from my daughters or me.”
“You’re a bitch…” she whispered. 
“Repeat it…” you demand.
“You’re a bitch” she says louder this time. 
“Chasing your broken dream of a family and ruining it for others?…uhm. I guess that makes you miserable. That’s worse than being a bitch” When you turn around, you hear her crying. You walk towards Joel, taking the stroller.
“Say sorry to Dr. Coppel; grab my medicine, please. Drop it at home and do whatever you want,” you explain calmly while accommodating Cerise in the stroller. “Just don’t you dare to come home like everything is fine between us.” 
You first see Ellie standing in the hallway outside the room.
“Did you hear?” She shrugged, looking alert. 
“A little. Are you okay?” You nod.
“Yeah. Let’s get out of here…” she agreed.
“How can you let her speak like that?” Freya asked just as you left the room. Joel glared at her, dumbfounded. 
“She’s right. You’re miserable, and don’t call my wife a bitch ever again,” Joel sounded firm, intimidating the woman before her. 
“What?” Freya whispered, shocked. Joel wondered if the woman wanted him to choose her over you. That was batshit. 
“Go hunt other men, not me. Stay away from her, our daughters, and me. If you ever try something else again… I’ll turn everyone against you, starting with Tommy and Maria,” he stated firmly.
The woman was tearing up louder when Joel got out of the room.
“What happened?” Dr. Coppel asked with a bag in his hand. Joel turned to see him.
“You should consider looking for another midwife, sir” The older man frowned, confused, but decided to stay quiet about the subject. 
“This is y/n’s medicine. Tell her to use it every 12 hours for two weeks” Joel nodded, and after thanking him, he left. Noticing you and the girls were gone.
You are walking with Ellie two blocks away, pushing his daughter’s stroller.
His tired back urges him to run to you. He’s tired of having bad seasons with you. And yeah, it was because of him. He wasn’t doing anything serious, but he should be more cautious with you. He had to remember you gave him a daughter just weeks ago. 
“Wait, y/n,” you and Ellie turn to see your husband in your direction. You roll your eyes and urge her to keep walking. 
Until the man stops running to be by your side.
“I threatened her. You were right. She’s insane,” Ellie gasped, surprised.
“Oh shit” she shouts. But her eyes turned down after seeing you give him a withering look. “I’ll take Cerise. We’re just in front of you.”
She takes the stroller and passes by you and Joel.
“I told you I never liked her. And you told her to stay away once. Why are you defending her?” Joel sighs.
“I wasn’t defending her. I wanted to stop you from getting into trouble. You don’t need to tell her anything” he can see you rolling your eyes.
“Oh, I had to tell her something. Someone had to put her in her place. I was getting sick of her stupid games. This isn’t a romance book. This is real life…” Joel smiled when he noticed how determined you were. He would realize he would never stop you from being that fierce again.
“You’re right. And you were amazing beating the shit out of her” You can’t help but giggle. 
“I’m not a beater, Joel. I just like to fight with my voice” Joel’s smile grows. 
“And you do it good as hell, baby. My perfect wife…” you blush. Feeling like a teenager walking with his lover on a cold afternoon. “I’m here, okay. I love you, and I want you to be happy.”
“I know…” you whisper.
“Why didn't you tell me about the mastitis?” The bar is full on a Friday night. You really would love a drink, but it is not the time.
“I was embarrassed. I felt like I was disappointing my daughter and not giving you enough pleasure” Joel instantly softened. He stopped to give you a hug and kiss your forehead.
“You are the most important thing in my life, you and the kids. You made me accept I deserve to be happy. You made my life better, y/n” You want to stay in his arms forever. Joel is the love of your life, and nothing would change that.
“Just having you by my side is enough pleasure in my life” he feels you holding him tightly. 
“It’s been a month of change. But now we have a gorgeous baby, jobs to do, and the house is okay. We don’t have to worry, baby,” he nods at you. Looking at Ellie waiting at the end of the block with the stroller and Cerise in it. Joel indicated to her to wait a little, and Ellie nodded.
“That’s right, love. Our little rainbow needs a healthy couple of parents. And our troublemaker, too,” he said, talking about Ellie. 
“Promise? To stop these stupid fights?” Your husband nodded.
“Promise.” Interlocking your pinky finger with him, both of you smile like idiots.
“What now?” He asks.
“Let’s go home. I wanted to watch a movie, but I’m not in the mood for crowds” A cozy night at home sounded good.
“We could read some books,” you nodded. Joel liked to hear you reading. You knew that. 
“That would be good. And I want to cuddle with you…” you missed his touch. Since you attempted to have sex again, he hasn’t touched you a lot. Not even hugs, which made you sad.
“It’ll cure your sore breasts tonight” Playfully, you punch his arm, laughing.
“Joel!” He smiled too. 
“What? I miss you too. I miss my wife and her warm….” you shush him, pushing him to make his way to Ellie and Cerise again.
“Don’t say it. Just show it….” The naughty look in your eyes set him on fire. And he swore he would end the reading session earlier to glue you to bed.
“Naughty girl…” you giggle, blowing a kiss to him before reuniting with the girls.
“Everything okay?” The girl asks. 
“Yeah. Let’s go home” Ellie nodded.
Joel contemplated the falling sun as he walked on that empty street with his little family. And he exhaled in peace because he had everything, and he wouldn’t let anything take that away from him.
_________________________________________
“Elizabeth,--or Beth, as everyone called her, was a rosy, smooth-haired, bright-eyed girl of thirteen, with a shy manner, a timid voice, and a peaceful expression. Which was seldom disturbed. Her father called her 'Little Tranquillity, ' which suited her excellently;….” you read but were interrupted by Joel touching your shoulder.
“Little mess and little tranquility passed out” You laugh at his references to Ellie and Cerise. But it’s true, the girls are sleeping peacefully. Probably fell asleep in the second chapter you read of Little Women.
“You read amazing…” he whispered. Analyzing his lovely wife's features.
“I told you my aunt was a teacher before the outbreak,” curled beside him. You smile at Ellie sleeping with Cerise in her arms.
“Right…well, she taught you a lot,” nodding as you snuggle closer to him, throwing the book at your feet.
“That’s why I'm a teacher now…” Pride filled your smile. 
“Thankfully, I married the prettiest one” You laugh at his poor joke. 
“You’re an ass. Wait-what time is it?” Joel leaned to look at the clock in the dining room. 
“9:30…” you stood up, with him following you behind. “Why?…”
“It’s time for my medicine” You take out the brown box and grab the penicillin and anti-inflammatory pills.
“I can help if you want,” you giggle. Joel looked so cute trying to help you with the most simple things.
“Take Ellie upstairs, and then we will Cerise to bed together” The man nodded, obeying and leaving you alone.
You hear him going upstairs, and by the sound of his steps, he struggles with Ellie’s weight. 
As you place the penicillin around your sore breasts, Joel returns, but this time with the little bundle in his arms.
“She has to take a bath tomorrow…” you say, putting your pajamas back in place.
“We’ll take care of it. Now let’s put her to bed” Both of you walk towards her nursery and place the little girl on her cradle. 
Her collection of toys was minimal. Cerise didn’t have a lot of clothes, and the things you used for her care were minimal. But you were happy with everything, Joel too.
“Your mama is the most wonderful person I have ever met. You’re fortunate to have her….” Joel whispered to Cerise once he leaned to kiss her cheeks. 
“And your dad is the most brave person I’ve ever met, baby. You have a weird but loving family,” both of you laugh. Joel hugs you from behind. Caressing your waist as you admire Cerise. 
“Good night, rainbow,” Joel says before guiding you outside the nursery.
And the first thing he does is kiss your neck. Filling you with praise and thank you for being a fantastic mother and partner.
“You make me crazy. And I don’t know what would I do without you. “Hearing Joel saying romantic things would never stop surprising you. It was like your past self would never believe this was your life now.
You turn around to wrap your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him deeply.
You feel him tilt his head to kiss you properly. Lost in the moment, you guide him to the bed, where you safely land on the mattress, urging him to keep kissing you.
As he undresses you and dives into the curves of your body, now you can’t stop praising him. Thanking him for all the things he’s done for you.
Once both of you are naked, barely illuminated by the light from the bathroom, your hands caress his cheeks, softly tracing his beard and soft skin.
“Y/n…” he whispered, closing his eyes, weakening for your touch. 
“It’s you, Joel. Since we met in Boston…” he knows. He knew from that day he kissed you in his kitchen in Boston, waiting for Tess to come with the job payment. Joel knew you were going to be something in his life. 
He was glad where life ended, putting you with him. 
“Even if things were tough. I don’t regret anything…” you add. Because now you remember those nights in the Boston QZ with love. Maybe you were sick, on the verge of collapsing. Maybe Tess was constantly making you feel like a burden for them. And maybe Joel was cold. 
But now you know you already were unique to him. Because he liked having short and vague conversations with you at night. He wanted to ask you what you would cook for him and Tess. And when he fucked you in that old and dusty mattress, he kissed you softly, like an antithesis of his hard thrusts in you. 
“Me neither. If someone told me this was the reward for taking you. I would do everything again…” he accepts before kissing you again and diving into the pleasure of the erotic moment you two were sharing.
“More, Joel,” you repeatedly plead, holding from his neck, bucking your hips to meet him. 
“You like that…?” He can see you nodding, and his twitches because of your features, showing all the pleasure he was causing. 
“God, I love you…” he mumbles before cursing and reaching his climax, spilling his seed deep into your fertile womb.
He doesn’t believe in heaven. But he knows his life with you was the closest to it. 
———————
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zepskies · 3 months
Text
Being Human - Part 4 (Finale)
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Pairing: Alec McDowell x F. Reader
Summary: Your life made sense before Alec slipped his way in. He unravels your threads without even trying. He frustrates you as easily as he weasels back into your good graces. But you soon realize that this man is worth the challenge.
AN: (I decided to release this a bit early.) Here we are, friends! The final chapter...
Chapter Summary: Ames White captures you, forcing Alec to his knees.
Word Count: 4,300
Tags/Warnings: Peril and violence, angst, major hurt/comfort, but also major fluff...
💜 Series Masterlist
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Part 4: Reckoning
Terminal City is a region on the edge of the city. The chemical and biohazardous waste that was dumped there after the Pulse makes ordinary humans sick, but for the immune transgenics, it’s the perfect spot to carve out a sanctuary.
Alec has been visiting the sector frequently, working with Max, Joshua, and other Manticore escapees to build up its infrastructure. Joshua lives here full-time now, as it’s safer for the half-canine transgenic and others like him, who don’t “look” human.
Today, Alec’s working with Mole and Joshua on ammunitions. Regardless of what any of them look like, they are all soldiers, in one way or another built and trained for warfare.
As much as Alec doesn’t want to see it, the tensions between “ordinaries” and transgenics are mounting, especially in Seattle. 
He checks his watch and realizes that he’s late to meet you. 
“Shit. I gotta go,” he says.
“Where’re you going?” Max asks. She has a perceptive eye, but Alec doesn’t reveal anything.  He revs up his motorcycle and dons his helmet.
“Just going to meet someone,” he says, purposely vague. He doesn’t want another lecture from her. 
The truth is, he’s dreading this. He knows when he sees you, it’ll be damn near impossible to maintain his distance. He should’ve just met you at your apartment, but surrounded by your things, your familiar scent etched into every fiber of your place…it would buckle his resolve. 
So he heads back on his motorcycle all the way home. 
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Something’s off.
He instinctively knows after he climbs up the stairs to his apartment. He tests the door, and it opens without him having to unlock it.
You would know better than to leave the door open.
He pushes inside the apartment, and he’s greeted to a scene that drops his heart into his stomach. 
His apartment is empty, but a table near the kitchen is knocked over. Glass liters the ground where it’s overturned, and on further inspection, he finds drying bloodstains on the glass and on the floor.
His heart beats faster as he takes in everything with wide eyes. He doesn’t smell gunpowder, or find anything else that would tell him what happened here. 
He does find your purse, tossed by the couch in the living room. 
Alec whips out his phone and calls your cell.
“Hello, 494.” A man’s voice—one that Alec would know anywhere. It prickles his skin with unease and makes his blood boil all at once.
“Ames White.” Alec’s teeth grind. “What game are you playing now?”
“This isn’t a game. It’s business,” White claims. “I have something you want. How much are you willing to pay to make sure she stays alive?”
Alec forces himself to calm down, even though his pulse is racing.
“What do you want?”
“You. And 452. With no bullshit on your end,” the agent replies. “Or this girl is going to pay that price for you.”
Alec’s breath becomes unsteady. “And if I comply, you’ll let her go. I’m supposed to believe that?”
“Oh, I won’t lie to you. She’s on her way to the lab as we speak. You see, they’re gonna want to analyze that abomination she’s carrying,” White says. 
That steals the breath from Alec’s lungs.
His eyes grow wide as he puts together what the man is saying. 
“But if you do comply,” he says, “I’ll make sure they let her deliver to term, at least.”
Alec’s throat tightens. Oh, God… 
“You let her go, you son of a bitch!” he grinds out. His white-knuckle grip pops a few springs in the couch. He releases it and covers his face, pressing hard between his eyes. “She’s not part of this!” 
“It seems she is, 494. I’ll send you the time and the place. Be there with 452.”
The line clicks. Alec’s breathing is harsh. He grips his phone so hard it nearly shatters, but he tosses it onto the couch and pushes his palms against the burn in his eyes. His jaw locks with the strain of clenched teeth. No, no, no, NO! 
His phone chimes with a voicemail message. Alec grabs the phone and listens. It details coordinates and a meeting time: tonight, at midnight.
Alec makes another call with what remains of his phone.
“Max,” he says shakily. “I need your help.”  
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Alec barely resists pacing throughout Logan’s apartment while the latter types away, researching the coordinates Ames White provided for the meeting point. Their forced surrender. 
Max perches on the corner of the couch with her arms crossed. She’s concerned for you as well, but she gazes at him with sympathy.
“We’ll find her, Alec,” she says. 
Alec shakes his head.
“He could have her anywhere,” he gestures widely. “He could’ve already handed her off to whatever shady government agency he works for. Or with that damn cult, that in case you’ve forgotten, hates us. Like everyone else in this city.”
“Not everyone,” Max reminds him pointedly. 
“Yeah, and look where we are now,” Alec retorts. “I told you this would happen!”
“Do you want to be right, or do you want to save her?” Max shoots back. “Now think. We’ve found bases of White’s operations before. Both for the agency, and the breeding cult.”
“I’m cross-referencing old locations,” Logan says. He’s been typing away at his computer for several minutes. “I can ask Asha and her people to join the search. And I can do an Eyes Only broadcast, encourage people to keep an eye out.” 
Alec nods, but any outcomes of those plans will take time. Time you might not have. 
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They’ve been following anonymous tips for hours. Joshua and a few X5s and X6s joined the search for Ames White, and more importantly, for you. 
Alec and Max have been working together without stopping even for a breath throughout the night. They only have one hour before they’re meant to be at the agreed meeting point: an abandoned building near the edge of the city. No doubt for their easy extraction. 
Logan eventually calls Alec to tell him about a lab within a mile of the scheduled rendezvous point. There have been reports of late-night transports—locals calling in about strange noises, and in one case, what someone thought was a muffled gunshot.
Alec and Max agree to check it out, but they’re going to cut it close with the meeting time.
“Josh. Where are you, buddy?” Alec asks after calling his friend’s cell.
“I’m here.”
“Where’s here?”
“Here,” Joshua replies. He’s turned the corner and found his friends on the crossing of Avalon St. and Broadway, via his elite sense of smell.
“Good,” Alec smiles in relief. He pats his taller friend’s arm. “You’ve been a big help so far, but I need you for this. Wanna be part of the rescue party?”
“Yes,” Joshua nods, but his tone suggests he’s offended that Alec has to ask. “Help save your mate.”
Alec’s smile weakens. He doubts you’ll ever want to be that with him, ever again. But he’ll be damned if the government, or some damn breeding cult, is going to lay a hand on you.
Logan agrees to meet them there in his van for backup, while Josh hitches a ride on the back of Alec’s motorcycle. The three of them haul ass to the location of the suspected lab.
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They approach a large, three-story dilapidated building. According to Logan, it used to be a mental health asylum. When the government bought it out, the facility was turned into a private lab.
Great, comes Alec’s sardonic thought. Hopefully the ghosts of whoever was tortured here won’t cause them any problems.
He and Max communicate silently through the militaristic hand motions they learned in their training to scope the place’s security, its entry points, and the best way for them to infiltrate the building. Although Manticore made Joshua, he hasn’t gone through the same training as most transgenics have.
He’s fortunate for it, but it means that Max has to direct him more carefully. He covers her and Alec as they approach the back entrance, which seems to be where they most often transport both cargo and people. Right now, there’s a large van waiting on standby.
Alec rips out the driver first, while Max and Joshua take on the other guards who start shooting. Alec comes around the back of the van, and when the first guard opens the back door, Alec tears the gun out of his hands and yanks him out. Alec uses the man’s body like a Kevlar vest as his two companies unload a clip or two. He punches them both out hard enough to hear the crack of bone.
The van inside is empty, but he sees a cot and several machines already ready and waiting to transport someone. He grits his teeth and slams the door shut on his way out.  
“She’s not in there,” he tells Max. “If she’s here, she’s gotta be inside.”
Max and Joshua have taken out the outside guards, no problem, but he’s sure there’ll be more where that came from.
The three of them enter the building and race through the long hallways, slipping by lab technicians, doctors, and other staff. Anyone who attempts to stop them soon regrets it.
Alec is especially brutal and efficient with the federal security guards. Max watches him out of the corner of her eye, but she doesn’t yet warn him to pull his punches. The stakes are high, and she understands his anger and stress.
“There’s a file room,” Alec points to a door that’s labeled: RECORDS.
“I doubt they’ll have a file on her yet, especially if White’s trying to keep this under wraps,” Max says.
Joshua looks around and points across the hall. “Cameras?”
The other two look in the direction he’s pointing to, and they see what he sees—a room labeled: SECURITY.
Alec slaps a companionable hand on Joshua’s back, and they head for the security room. The guards are dealt with swiftly, being knocked out and piled against the back wall. While Joshua keeps a lookout, Max and Alec scan the many different camera feeds: focused on various hallways and lab subjects.
Alec scans each of them rapidly. He’s always been good with TV.
He finds you on one of the camera feeds and he points to it. “There she is! Room 204.”
You’re in a small, cell-like room, sleeping on what almost looks like a hospital bed. Except there’s a breathing mask held over your face, probably keeping you unconscious, and you’re attached to several monitors. It makes his heart sink and his spine tighten with rage, simultaneously.
“Let’s go,” Max says, but it’s not necessary. Alec is already halfway out the door.
They’re stopped at a four-way crossroads in the hall. In the center is Ames White.
“You’re smart, I’ll give you that,” he grants with an incline of his head. He takes a radio clipped to his belt and clicks it on, speaking into it. “Transport the girl. Make sure she’s sedated.”
Alec seethes. Before he can sprint headlong into a fight, Joshua stops him. Alec looks up at him in askance.
“You go. Find her. Leave him with me,” Joshua says. His blue eyes are sharp with predatory anger at the man who killed Annie Fisher.
Alec softens a fraction and nods in understanding. He shoots Max a look.
“Go, I’ll catch up with you,” she says.
Alec nods and races on ahead. He dodges bullets with the help of superior speed and crashes into each guard, taking them out with brutal force. He steals a gun off of one of them, and that saves him a lot of time and energy. He tries not to kill anyone, but he can’t think about holding back. He just needs to get to you.
He reaches the second floor, and finally to Room 204.
Two men are already in the room. He doesn’t want to open fire—the room is too small, the risk of ricochet too high. He grabs a knife from his belt and hurls it at the first man, who was poised to inject something into your arm. The second guard turns with his gun, but Alec is already moving too fast for human eyes to follow.
He breaks the man’s arm, followed by a swift uppercut. He takes the gun and hurls the man into the far wall, knocking him clean out as he slumps to the floor.
Alec breathes hard in the aftermath, but he begins to soften after his attention turns to you. He sets down the gun and takes in the sight of you, still dressed in jeans and a blood-stained shirt.
You’re heavily sedated and restrained by your wrists and ankles. You have a bandage wrapped around your forearm, along with brain and heart monitors attached to your forehead and chest, and an IV drip in your other arm. 
Alec takes a breath, and he starts with the wires, removing the small suction cups from your body and disconnecting all the monitors. He takes off the mask and unclips the leather restraints. 
The fury builds back up inside him at what they’ve already done to you. He doesn’t want to think any more on what they’d planned to do.
You must’ve been terrified, he thinks. He touches your cheek tenderly. His free hand hesitates, before it rests gently on your belly. He calls your name. 
You don’t stir just yet. Your body is still under the effects of the sedation. So he carefully lifts you into his arms. He hears Max approach, and she’s there in the doorway by the time he turns around. 
“Let’s go,” Alec says. His face is hard and angry while he carries you out. 
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They regroup with Joshua in the lobby, though even Alec stops short when he sees the carnage. Ames White’s body lays on the floor with unseeing eyes. His throat is torn out. 
Joshua has blood in his teeth. He wipes at his face with the back of his arm, his eyes veering away from Max and Alec. Max blinks through her shock and tries to keep her mouth from falling open.
“Time to go,” Joshua says. His voice is heavy, but matter of fact.
“We’ll need to take his body, get rid of it later,” Max says, when she recovers. “We can’t let the police find him.”
They’ll blame us, is understood by them all. The police won’t have the full story, but it won’t matter. Appearances are everything. 
Max finds a black body bag in a nearby storage closet and Joshua collects White, later hefting the full body bag over his shoulder.
They make their escape out the back of the building, where Logan is waiting with his van. Joshua deposits the body in the back, where he also climbs in. Max takes the front passenger seat while Alec carries you into the middle seat bed. 
Nothing else feels right but to hold you in his arms. To stroke your cheek and wait, both desperate for, and yet dreading the moment you’ll open your eyes. 
Because when you do, there’s a good chance that he’ll find your fear. Or worse. 
“She’s going to be okay,” Max says to him, quietly. She’s twisted towards him in her seat.
“Maybe physically,” Alec counters. “I don’t know, Max. How did being held up in a lab affect your mental health?” 
Her lips purse. “One step at a time, okay?”
Alec shakes his head and looks down at you. He tries to commit your peaceful face to memory, because he doubts that he’ll ever see it again after tonight. 
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Slowly, you start to wake.
At first, all you see is shadows and shapes of someone looming over you. Unconsciously you whimper and push at whatever holds you down, but the hold is gentle, the voice soothing. 
“Shh, it’s okay. Sweetheart, it’s me,” he says. 
Your eyes clear and focus as you blink…though they soon flood with tears. Relief takes over your fear. You see his concerned, handsome face, and your lower lip trembles. 
“Alec,” is all you manage to say. You still have some trouble moving your heavy body, but you grab a fistful of his shirt and wince as you pull yourself up, just enough to bury your face into his chest. Your body shakes with the force of your sobs. 
Alec gathers you up against him and shushes you gently, even as his heart clenches. He soothes a hand over your hair and your back. 
“I’ve gotcha. It’s okay, you’re safe,” he says in your ear. He meets Max’s concerned gaze, then Joshua’s in the shrouded end of the car. Even Logan glances back through the rearview mirror as he drives. 
Alec tries to block them out and focus on you. He holds you and comforts you for as long as you let him.
Eventually, you pull away to look at his face. You still have tears in your eyes, but now, it’s with a hue of uncertainty. 
“The man…the agent who took me. He was looking for you,” you say. Your voice is weak and a bit coarse. You try to clear it.
Alec wishes he had some water for you.
“He’s gone. You don’t have to worry about him,” he says. 
You let out a shaky breath, but you meet his gaze. “He said that you’re not…Alec, are you…”
He sighs; he understands the question you’re trying to ask. 
“Yeah. Those freaks you hear people talking about on the news?” he says. “I’m one of ‘em.”
Your eyes widen as your breathing becomes more labored.
“I was made in a lab,” Alec confesses. “At Manticore, bred and trained to be a soldier.”
A transgenic.
Your hand falls away from his chest, and you take that in with an unblinking stare. He can see you trying to process all this.
You glance over at Max, who had been facing the front to give you and Alec the semblance of privacy. Feeling your gaze on her, she turns around and gives you a half-hearted smile. 
“Hey, girl,” she greets. “Glad you’re okay.”
“You’re like him too?” you ask. Max nods.
Suddenly, everything makes so much sense. Why she and Alec have always seemed to share history and bickered like siblings. Why Max was friendly, but never truly your family. Why Alec had been so much of a mystery to you. Why he’d broken your heart. 
“Joshua too,” says a deep voice from the back. 
You turn your head and gasp as your eyes fly open wide again. Alec gives his friend a look over your head, but he tries to reassure you with a warm hand on your lower back. He hopes you can’t see the dried blood on Joshua’s snout. 
Joshua breaks into a sheepish smile. 
“Sorry,” he says, gesturing to his wolf-like face. “Bit of dog in my cocktail.”
You shake your head slowly. Your mouth opens and closes, but you try your best to get through your shock (and a lance of fear). Your head tilts as you consider his kind, very human blue eyes.
“You, um, your name is Joshua?” you say at last.
“Yes, Joshua,” he nods. “Rescue party.”
You blink at that. “You…helped get me out of there?”
He nods again, with a smile that flashes a few canine pointed teeth. You rest a hand over your wildly beating heart. 
“Thank…you,” you manage. 
Joshua bobs his head. “No problem. Saved Alec’s mate.”
If possible, your eyes widen further at that one. You turn back to Alec with raised brows. He offers a wan smile and a nervous chuckle. You notice, however, that he hasn’t let go of you. You’re also still sitting across his lap. 
“This is what you were hiding from me,” you say, perhaps stating the obvious. Your heart clenches with pain. “Why you…”
He brushes his hand along your arm. 
“I was trying to protect you,” Alec says. His brows furrow as his green-eyed gaze veers away from your face, with shame. “But I failed, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. None of this was supposed to happen—”
Some instinct has you reaching out to sooth your hand along his cheek, stopping his lips with your thumb. You stare up into his eyes, and they’re no longer guarded or distant. They’re the eyes you remember. 
Whatever you are, you’re mine.
You lean up and press your lips to his.
After a beat, Alec’s eyes close, and he answers you in kind. His fingers sink into your knotted hair. You grip his shirt by the collar, and he wraps his arm securely around you. 
With each new kiss, you feel more relieved. You don’t realize you’re trembling until he clasps your shaking hand against his cheek, to steady you. 
Alec gives you one more searing kiss before he pulls you into his arms. It’s a hug you both need.
His eyes shut tight as he buries his face in your neck, inhaling your scent. His lips find the mark he’d left weeks ago on your skin. It’s faint by now, but it’s still there. He takes deep breaths to calm himself, and you rub his back through it. 
He realizes you’re comforting him now; a fact that makes him smile.
You’re mine, instinct tells him. And this time, he just can’t fight it. 
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Logan houses you and Alec for the night (or the morning, since dawn breaks by the time you all get back). 
You’re exhausted, but you still force yourself to shower. You’ll have to remind yourself to thank Logan for the spare clothing, though you don’t bother with the sweatpants just opt for the large shirt as you roll into bed. 
Alec isn’t far behind after he takes a quick shower. You force yourself to stay awake, waiting for him to come out of the bathroom. His skin glistens when he eventually leaves the bathroom, and you watch him cross the bedroom with just a towel low on his hips. He shoots you a smile before he starts getting dressed.
“Logan says he’s help us find a new place to live,” he says. 
You slowly smile at that. “Us?”
“Well, you know, both of our apartments are compromised.”
“Yeah, I get that,” you reply. When he slides into bed next to you, you swim through the covers and inch closer to him. “I’m just glad it’s a together thing.”
Alec gives you an amused look, but there’s warmth in his eyes. He thumbs at your lower lip. Soon, his smile begins to fall.
“I didn’t want to get you caught up in this. In my crazy fucked up life,” he says. 
“I know,” you sigh. “But I’m in it now. I’m in this with you. You realize that, right?”
He nods, though he doesn’t think he deserves it. Or you, for that matter. 
He slips his arm around you, just the same. You rest your head against his shoulder and tap his chin. 
“Alec, I don’t care what you are,” you say. “Transgenic or not, you’re the man I’ve always known.”
He lets out a subtle breath at that, chuckling. 
“For better or worse, right?” he asks.
You smile. “I have something to tell you…though I’m pretty sure you already know.”
Despite a tremor of nerves, a slow grin spreads across his face. 
“Tell me anyway,” he says. “I love surprises where I know the answer.”
You giggle. “You sure about that?”
“Yes,” he nods with a smirk. “Just tell me, woman.”
Your hand drifts down to rest against his chest, and you tilt up your face so you can meet his dancing eyes. The fact that he seems genuine gives you enough courage to just…say it.
“Alec, I’m pregnant,” you tell him.
His smile grows.
“…Really?” he teases. “You sure it’s mine?”
You gasp, laughing, and you shove against his chest. You twist away from the cage of his arms, but he laughs and doesn’t let you so easily escape. You realize then how truly strong he is when he rolls you under him on the bed. 
He dips down and claims you with a kiss. He shakes his head, because he never thought this would be his life. His hand sneaks under the sheets to rest over your lower belly, through the shirt. In turn, you cover his hand. You bite your lip with slight anxiety.  
“You’re really okay with this?” you ask. “Even after everything we…this is a lot for us. Really soon.”
Alec gradually sobers, and he acknowledges that with a nod.
“Yeah,” he agrees. “Honestly, I didn’t see this coming.”
You have to laugh a little at that. His lips tug at the corners, but as he squeezes your hand back, he stares directly into your eyes.  
“But I’m not letting you do this alone. I… I love you,” he admits. “Sorry it took me so long to figure it out.”
Tears burn in your eyes, but only one finds its way down your cheek. You take in a tremulous breath and nod. 
“I love you too,” you reply. Though you can’t hide a different uncertainty when you look at him. “But if you leave me again…Alec, I can’t.”
He looks more vehement than you’ve ever seen him when he shakes his head, meeting your gaze. 
“That’s not happening. I promise,” he says. “You’re stuck with me, baby. So much that you might just get sick of me.”
You utter a laugh through your tears, and you nod in acceptance. Alec smiles and wipes your cheek dry before he gathers you tighter into his arms, and presses a kiss to your forehead. 
You relax against his chest with a sigh. His heartbeat thrums steadily under your cheek.
And you finally rest.
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AN: And there we have it. 🥹 I truly hope you enjoyed Being Human.
I might come back to add bonus one-shots to this, if you guys are interested in seeing more of their story. 💜 But I hope you'll let me know what you think about how it all shook out here!
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Series Masterlist
Alec McDowell Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Ko-Fi Me ☕
Alec M. Tag List:
@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog
@globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @emily-winchester @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989
@waters-2567 @iwishiwas-sleeping @jessjad @pieandmonsters @akshi8278 @honeybabycherry @deans-spinster-witch @angelbabyyy99 @jackles010378 @nancymcl @idiotdyslexic @heartlessdelusions @longlostx11
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101 notes · View notes
deripmaver · 3 months
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was the wagon scene in berserk sexual assault?
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i mean whatever lol. im ngl in some ways this feels like making a whole ass meta post about whether or not "casca enjoyed it." like do i even need to take this perspective seriously? yeah, yeah, i know, that's a pretty inflammatory thing to say, and a lot of the people who i've seen say the scene is NOT assault don't deserve to be belittled like that.
i think it's possible, and very interesting, to discuss the nuances of the scene. what was griffith's intention in that moment? why didn't casca bring up what happened to guts when he asked? how does this contradict or supplement what we already know about their characters?
per usual, though, most of the discussion of the scene itself put very little thought into one of the TWO main participants - casca. so let's do that, i guess, and look at the scene on the whole.
CW, i will show one eclipse panel (the kiss) in this meta, but that's is
what happens before?
the scene in the wagon comes immediately after the band of the hawk's encounter with wylad. wylad has thoroughly humiliated griffith in front of the entire band of the hawk, told them that griffith is totally defeated and broken, and tried to rape casca while griffith struggled uselessly, unable to help at all.
the band is regrouping afterward, and the reality of griffith's situation is sinking in to the members of the band. we don't know for sure if griffith can hear this, but the band is even discussing whether it makes sense for casca to permanently become the band's leader. where would that leave griffith? a burden, helpless, unable to even lead his own men.
griffith can, however, overhear casca talking to guts just a moment later. she says guts isn't reliant on griffith's dream, and griffith through the wagon can easily see their closeness.
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at this point, casca goes to griffith in the wagon.
so where is griffith? his men, who despite his capture have been sustained by his dream, are losing their faith in him because wylad showed how utterly powerless he is. meanwhile, guts is touching casca in an intimate, close way. he feels like everything is slipping through his fingers, even his particular place of importance for guts. he's lost guts to casca. i would argue this piece, seeing casca intimate with guts, changes his mindset even compared to where he was during the scene with wylad.
where is casca? she's still clinging to that hopeless dream. she was so lonely as the commander of the band of the hawk, trying to face the reality of griffith's injuries and the overwhelming way that their roles have been reversed. she's leaning on guts, on anyone, for support for the first time, while being forced to put on a brave face not just for the whole band of the hawk, but for her idol and savior.
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what happens during the scene?
casca is changing griffith's bandages. she knocks over a bowl of water, and when she goes to leave the wagon to replace it, griffith grabs her, and... well, that's kind of the whole crux of this meta, isn't it?
griffith forces himself on top of her. the question is why, and what's his intention? that's been discussed a lot on tumblr. the other question is: what does casca think his intention is, and how does she take it?
there is a lot of visual language in the scene that, to me, clearly indicates sexual intentions from griffith, and clearly indicates that's how casca takes his intentions.
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side note, i think griffith is crying in the above panel. could be sweat, could be tears... it's subtle enough to leave it up to interpretation.
that last panel in particular is EXACTLY paralleled with the kiss panel during the eclipse. the helmet, the direct eye contact, the pose... miura has always been very intentional with his parallels and his paneling, so i doubt this was an accident. the eclipse panel is just below, btw. scroll quick if u dont wanna see
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this is also how griffith and charlotte's sex scene started.
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the wagon scene and the sex scene with charlotte happen because griffith is doing something rash purely on emotion after feeling stripped of all power and no longer in control of a situation. it's not as simple as griffith being an evil rapist from the start, but you can easily see a pattern of him lashing out and trying to regain control through pushy/coercive sex with women. would griffith do this kind of thing normally? no, of course not. but nothing about the situations he's at these points in the manga are "normal," and again there is a pattern of him lashing out and using women as an outlet for his feeling out of control. they ALSO both happen because he feels like he's losing guts.
casca tells griffith to stop, and griffith does stop, but it's not clear to me if he stops intentionally, or if he simply is physically incapable of continuing. i've seen the idea put forward that griffith is terrified that guts and casca are going to abandon him, and so he offers his body as the only thing he has left in a fit of desperation. i'm not opposed to that being part of it - griffith has used his body and sex as an offering before, with gennon.
this is how griffith is looking at casca during the scene:
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one is normal and even wistful and sad, the other is...... fucking batshit LOL put those damn things away!!!! blue eyes white demon
one thing, though, that i want to say very clearly: griffith may have offered himself sexually to casca out of desperation, but it is very clear to me that casca did not want it. griffith fully forced himself on top of her, too, with his arms wrapped around her. if it was unwanted and forced sexual contact, regardless of why griffith did it or how much of a woobie he is to u, that is BY DEFINITION sexual assault.
this is the part that kind of drives me crazy. i don't personally believe that this was an act of self-loathing or self harm, like take my body because i have nothing left, but even if it is - it is still sexual assault. it is!!!! this isn't an argument!!!!!! yeah he was sad about it but it was still sexual assault!!!!
but anyways, enough about griffith. how does casca react?
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i've seen the fact that she doesn't push him off presented as evidence that this wasn't assault. i'll... get to that.
what happens after?
after, we get these panels of casca, obviously shaken, outside the wagon.
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she is clearly VERY upset. when guts approaches, he sees something is clearly wrong, but she brushes it off and says its nothing. when he keeps pressing, asking if it was something with griffith, she eventually breaks down and tells him that she can't leave with him. she has to stay with griffith, she has to care for him in his fragile, broken state. guts, on the other hand, has to go. even if its alone...
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is this reaction in conflict with the idea that what griffith did in the wagon was sexual assault???? no. not at all.
casca feels immense devotion to the band of the hawks, and especially to griffith. she reminisces about how strong griffith seemed to her while she bandages him in the wagon. he gave her everything - a purpose, a reason to fight, a dream, and now even though the event was terrifying she sees griffith's physical weakness and knows she can't leave him. she can't leave him. how often irl do women overlook instances where their boundaries were violated, or a man they're close with was sexually aggressive towards them, because of those pre-established relationships? because that's their boss, or manager, or idol?
and not telling guts - honestly, that to me oddly is evidence to prove it WAS sexual assault. i think casca's single-minded devotion to the hawks and their dream would have made it so that she wouldn't dare bring up griffith doing anything to make her uncomfortable, because everyone is already on the brink of falling apart. even before this, we see her putting everyone above herself to keep the hawks together - crying alone when she thinks no one can hear her, barely sleeping, so exhausted she becomes suicidal, there is no reason to believe she would bring up something that just upset HER. she is less important, in her own mind, than the good of the whole. it makes perfect sense that she would do exactly what she does - she cries alone by the side of the wagon and doesn't tell anyone what happened.
another thing that i want to be very clear about: the idea that because casca didn't immediately push griffith off of her, and because she didn't bring it up to guts, and because she decided to stay with him afterwards, that means it certainly can't be sexual assault? that is rape apologism. full stop. if your argument hinges on any of those things, your argument is rape apologism. this is not up for debate.
NOW - did kentaro miura in the 1990s in japan know about the nuances of how women react to sexual harassment and sexual assault? that i'm not sure about lol. the argument "this is not in line with the way i assume cishet man kentaro miura in 1996 would understand sexual assault, and therefore i don't think it was his intention to depict sexual assault" is something i can understand. that's NOT what i'm seeing though.
that being said, there is some evidence that miura DID have a very nuanced understanding of assault. here, we have griffith talking almost to himself (though casca is nearby), breaking down about how dirty he feels for sleeping with gennon.
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and yet, when casca embraces him, trying to comfort him, what does he do?
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HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
and yeah, guts kills gambino, but only because gambino tries to kill him. guts first reacts by crying and asking why?
finally, compare the above panels of casca after the wagon scene to casca after almost being raped by wylad, and after the eclipse:
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i mean, this is how miura draws casca when she's fucking going through it generally, but STILL. they are similar. she's shaking while bandaging him because he's so weak, but afterwards she is unable to mask how shaken she is. i don't think her reaction is JUST because he's weak.
this is so fucking long LOLLLLLL. i'm not interested in arguing with any of the various meta posts about the wagon scene not being sexual assault directly, or discussing it with the authors. if you want an alternate perspective, one that takes into account more of casca's POV, this is for you, and i hope you found this helpful! finally i've got this all in one place
tl;dr i think due to the framing you're supposed to see griffith's intention as sexual during the scene, casca very clearly doesn't want it, if your argument that it's not sexual assault hinges on her not pushing him off immediately u suck
uhhhhh that's it
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littlefangbanger · 1 year
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True Blood Vampires w/ a Human Mate
Pairing(s): Eric; Pam; Godric; x GN!Reader
CW: Vague mentions of sex, violence, etc... Come on, it's True Blood. Mentions of Luke (suicide bomber). Some fluff. Lots of rambling.
Notes: Only on season 4 right now, so I'm sure I'm missing some good characters. Didn't do Bill but if anybody wants a second version of this just ask. I'm open to requests so feel free to send me asks!
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Eric Northman
This man only uses humans for three things: feeding, fucking and as a means to an end. If they didn't offer anything useful, they didn't interest him. That was, until you.
Ngl it took this man a long time to recognize his own feelings. It took Pam calling him out to realize he was starting to feel something almost human. Love?
You heard him say it, don't use words he doesn't understand.
Anyways, at first he thought he was just attracted to you due to your blood. He hadn't actually tasted it yet but it was tempting nonetheless.
You were with them at Godric's nest when the suicide bomber attacked. You were further away from Luke than Sookie and Eric, but you were still human.
Eric was the one who pulled the debris out of you and fed you his blood. That was the moment he started to come to terms with his own feelings. He wasn't going to lose you.
This man will protect you from EVERYTHING, vampire or not. If it's a vampire of all things threatening your safety, in his area, well... bless their cold non-beating hearts.
Remember that episode where Lafayette is in the basement, and Eric lets out that inhuman growl while tearing that other man apart? Yeah, he does that.
He's not affectionate at first, especially not in public. If he does hold you it is because you managed to piss him off by talking to other vampires at Fangtasia. So he keeps you where he knows nobody will come after you: in his lap.
Man is probably touch starved. Please offer him a hug when you're alone. It'll be strange for him at first but he secretly loves it.
I think his primary love languages are mostly acts of service and quality time. He wants you to worship the ground he walks on, much like he does you.
Passionate kisses. Rough sex. It's rare for anything to be slow or gentle with him.
He is down for anything really. Just say the word.
Listen, he's not a gentleman. Not unless you explicitly ask for it. He's gonna be rough with almost everything. But he tries for you.
You can try to take control if you want... but just know you're not actually in control. He's just offering you an opportunity to feel like you are.
The moment you get a little too cocky, he'll remind you that he is the thousand year old vampire. He overpowers you easily.
He wants you to become a vampire, but doesn't say anything at first. He actually starts to value your humanity. It keeps him grounded.
That doesn't change the fact that you can't stay human forever. In your current state you are simply too fragile. It was too easy for you to be ripped away from him.
He won't turn you yet, though. He'll wait until you're ready, or until he has no choice.
Pamela Swynford de Beaufort
Eric is the only being that has managed to capture and keep Pam's attention. So your relationship was a slow burn made in hell.
At first she only saw you as another pathetic human that stuck their nose in vampire business too much. You were one of Sookie's dearest friends, and one that seemed to always be involved in her foolish antics.
Much like Sookie, you sympathize with vampires. You actually started to visit Fangtasia as a casual guest.
That's how you managed to capture Pam's attention. Your regular visits always seemed to spark something that resembled joy in her.
Your personality meshed well with hers. Pam is a smart-ass and even more cunning. Your dark humor and equally witty personality amused her.
Eventually you two developed a sort of... arrangement. You offered her your blood, and sex of course, and she offered you protection from the degenerates at Fangtasia.
She did find your blood quite tasty, so she agreed to this.
She claimed you. So nobody else could touch you. Eric didn't care as long as you didn't distract her from her duties.
After some months of seeing each other, Pam started to realize that she was becoming way too attached to you.
It was almost as if she was... in love? No, absolutely not.
She was harsh with you for some time, but eventually started to warm up.
Her primary love languages are acts of service and gift giving. Shower her with quality makeup, jewelry and other gifts. She loves being spoiled.
She'll do the same for you, so expect some rather pricey gifts.
When it comes to sex she prefers being dominant, but if you ask nicely she may let you take that role instead.
Will praise and degrade you at the same time. Just be a good pet for her, yeah?
I feel like she would want to turn you into a vampire asap. She doesn't like knowing that you could die from almost anything.
You don't mind, though. You quite like the idea of being a vampire.
Godric
Godric is one of the few vampires who holds some level of compassion towards humans. So, I feel like it wouldn't take as much for him to fall in love with one.
This compassion is, however, a result of being two thousand years old. He's had a lot of time to get around, but somehow I'm convinced he's never been in love like that.
Sure, he knows something like love for his progenies. But romantic? I just don't think that's something he thought about until recently. It would probably take him some time to recognize what he's feeling.
You met the night Sookie was held hostage by the Fellowship of the Sun. You had arrived with Eric to save him and Sookie.
Godric was intrigued by your compassion for vampires. You? A human, there to help save him? It was almost too good to be true, but then again some could say the same about his compassion towards humans.
You were with them at his house that night, celebrating his return. He had been watching you; how you mingled with the vampires as if they were human. You didn't give anybody permission to drink from you, much to Godric's pleasure.
When the suicide bomber attacked, he shielded you. The impact still hurt but you were free of any life-threatening injuries.
In return, you talked him out of meeting the true death. You stood with him on the top of that roof and convinced him that although things are hard, and he has a lot to atone for, there is still much to live for (even if he technically isn't alive).
He claimed you to protect you from other vampires after that. He knew how brutal and beast-like many vampire are. Most understood what it means to claim a human though, so if they knew you were Godric's they wouldn't touch you.
Deep talks. I feel like over time he'd open up about some of the things from his past that bothers him, and how his mental health is. You always listened and reassured him that he has changed for the better.
The only other vampire he would trust to be alone with you is Eric. Eric wouldn't dare touch what is Godric's and often finds himself looking after you when Godric is too busy with vampire stuff.
Quality time and words of affirmation would be his love languages. Please please please shower him with compliments and reassurance. He won't admit it in front of others but he loves it.
Honestly he's sweet all around. In all scenarios. He worships the ground you walk on and will treat you like royalty. That means in bed too.
He's constantly afraid of losing you. As much as he loves your humanity, he's painfully aware of how fragile you are in your current state.
In his two thousand years Godric has developed a great deal of patience and self-control, but the moment you are threatened by another vampire or otherwise non-human... he's not afraid to showcase what he's capable of.
He would never turn you unless you want him to. Even then, I feel like you would really need to convince him that you want that. Honestly you may have to wait until he is ready, because he is conflicted with the idea.
503 notes · View notes
explosionkatsu · 1 year
Text
“Age doesn’t matter” 3
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Dad!Bakugou x F!Babysitter!Teacher!Reader
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16
“Ah? Good morning, little Kazui.” Ms. Y/n smiled as she waved at him.
To Katsuki, it seems like Kazui and his teacher is a lot closer. Well, after what he heard from his son, he has no doubt that they were indeed close.
“Hi, Ms. Y/n!” Kazui ungrasped Katsuki’s hand and immediately ran towards Ms. Y/n with an open arms.
Ms. Y/n on the other hand knelt at Kazui’s size and captures the enthusiastic child in her arms, embracing him. “How are you, my dear?” She asked as she let go and ruffle Kazui’s hair.
“I’m good, Ms. Y/n! Look! Papa drop me off today!” Kazui excitedly pulled Ms. Y/n towards his papa who was still watching them interact.
Now that she saw Kazui's dad. He does look like the number 2 Pro Hero Dynamight. Why she doesn't realize it sooner? Y/n thought to herself. She must be blind.
Once they got closer to Katsuki, Ms. Y/n bowed to Katsuki who was caught off guard. "Thank you for keeping us safe, Mr. Dynamight." She said and straightened her posture, giving Katsuki a smile.
"Papa, this is Ms. Y/n, the one I'm talking about!" Kazui gleamed at Katsuki.
Katsuki had to keep his cool when Ms. Y/n smiled at him. “It’s my job.” He said tching and looking away as redness slowly crept its way to his cheeks. “Thank you for taking care of Kazui.” He added, mumbling.
“It is my pleasure, Mr. Dynamight!” Ms. Y/n clasped her hands together smiling softly at Katsuki. “Kazui is such a sweetheart. I don’t mind taking care of him, honestly.”
“Hear that? I’ve been good!”
Both adult looked at the almost forgotten Kazui.
“I know, brat. Now go inside.” Katsuki said.
Kazui gave his papa a hug before running inside, laughing with his friends who approached him.
“Is it true that you’ve been taking care of him?” Katsuki is now serious. This is a serious subject especially now that he found out his parents are occupied as well. That means anytime now, they won't be able to help him.
“Mr. Dyna-
“Bakugou.”
“Ahem. Mr. Bakugou, I’m quite sure that Kazui has mentioned you what I have been doing while your parents wasn’t able to pick him up on time.” Ms. Y/n said with a serious face as well.
“I did. I thought everything’s fine. Old hag didn’t mention this to me at all.” Katsuki scowled staring into the distance. “I was too busy with my job as well. I didn't even noticed this..”
“I understand your job, Mr. Bakugou. And I also hope you didn't mind. Kazui mentioned that he doesn't have a mother.” Hearing her say this, Katsuki’s scowl deepened.
“Blabbermouth brat.” He mumbled.
Ms. Y/n was able to catch what Katsuki said and just sweat drop with an awkward smile. “Anywho, if it's a sensitive topic, we can just drop it.” Ms. Y/n said as her smile turn into a genuine one.
“It's fine. It's not like anyone doesn't know. The media fucking tells everything.” Katsuki turned away putting his other hand in his pocket.
Usually, when it comes to this topic, Katsuki would turn them down or won't even say a word. But right now? It seems like Kazui’s teacher is someone he can trust. Of course, the media doesn't know the details about Kazui’s mother or how she left. But as of today, he felt like she needs to know seeing that she appears to be a kind and gentle type of person. But Katsuki knew that giving your trust easily could lead to something dangerous. So just like what he usually does, he stayed quiet.
“Indeed.” Ms. Y/n chuckled.
Fuck, why was it like music to his ears.
“It's nice talking to you, Mr. Bakugou.” She said. “I wouldn't mind taking care of Kazui more knowing that you are busy. As well as his grandparents.” Before heading inside the school, Ms. Y/n fishes something out of her pocket and hands it to Katsuki. “If anything happens about Kazui. I’ll let you know. This here is my personal number.” She smiled. “I used to be a babysitter as well, all because of my quirk. If you decided and look for one, I’m available.”
Katsuki stared at the calling card handed to him. He took it, shoving it inside his pocket and walked away without saying a word.
“Have a great day, Dynamight.” Ms. Y/n called waving at him and entering the premises.
Katsuki went into his car and sat there for a good minute before starting the engine and driving off. Along the way, he took the card with his other hand while the other held the steering wheel. He inspects it for a moment before reading the name.
Name: Ms. (Your Name) (Last Name)
Age: 23
Quirk: Healing
And the back of the card shows her old job which she brought up being a babysitter.
Katsuki put the calling card back inside his pocket and focuses on driving. It seems like a good idea for him, at least.
When he reached his office, he immediately got into his Hero suit and headed out for his patroling. There he met up with Kirishima who was busy talking to a fan.
“Oi.” Katsuki called out.
Eijirou looked at him and grinned. “Ey! Bro! Didn't expect we have the same shift!” Eijirou bid his fan goodbye before he made his way to Katsuki who was standing still.
“How’s the kid going?” Eirijou initiated as they both started walking and looking around.
“Fine,” Katsuki grumble. “Fucking brat is a blabbermouth.” He added.
“Eh?” Eijirou questioned. “What do you mean?”
“Tch. Brat blabber about not having a mother to his teacher.” Katsuki said as he watches his surrounding.
“I’m sure the teacher was also aware since the media kinda put it on news. Everyone knows that at this point.” Eijirou said looking at Katsuki.
Eijirou received quietness in response. He keeps his gaze on Katsuki who looks like was in deep thought.
“Did you even tell Kazui what happened?” Eijirou looks worried now.
“He’s too fucking young to know his mom left us without anything.” Katsuki lashed out at Eijirou.
Eirijou knew what Katsuki meant. He was simply protecting his child from the pain of what his ex-wife did. At first, the thought of Katsuki being a father doesn’t suit him at all. But when he witnessed how devoting father Katsuki, it took him by surprised on how someone can change.
He saw how Katsuki got home tired but still willing to spend time with Kazui.
Believe it or not. He did once had to babysit Kazui due to Katsuki going on a mission, and his parents wasn’t in the country at that time. Kazui was 5 years old that time, and him, being good with kids. He handled him with ease. At a young age, Eijirou saw Kazui getting worried about his father’s well-being. He saw Kazui crying whenever he misses his papa. He even saw him getting quiet because Katsuki wasn’t around. He had to ensure him Katsuki is a great hero. Which he is! And when Katsuki got home, he saw how Katsuki embrace his child.
As his best friend, Eijirou hates seeing Katsuki helpless, even though he's aware he won't admit it. What Katsuki didn't know was Eijirou looking for his ex-wife, secretly.
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kabie-whump · 1 month
Note
How about another request, if you're up for it? 👀
Whumpee being kidnapped and used as bait for Caretaker. The kicker? Whumpee thinks it's not gonna work, since they and Caretaker got into a big argument before Whumpee was taken, to which Whumper reassures/taunts that Caretaker will come for Whumpee no matter what.
Then, to Whumpee's surprise and horror, Caretaker did come... and fell right into Whumper's trap trying to free Whumpee. 😈
-- @whumperofworlds
Of course pookie! :3 I'm just gonna continue what I wrote for u last time if u don't mind <3 (Just ignore the part where I said Ventis shows up on his own after a week lol)
Definitely ended up way longer than I intended teehee
Content: kidnapping, stress position + bondage, used as bait, child neglect mention, drug addiction + forced relapse, choking, blood, force feeding (not w food though cause ew)
~~~
Ventis takes stock of his condition. A cloth blindfold stretches across his eyes. His shoulders ache; unsurprising considering his hands are tied with a chain that stretches above him, forcing him to stand on his tip-toes to avoid putting too much pressure on his joints. Being unconscious in this position has probably fucked them up already. He much prefers when kidnappers tie him to chairs or leave him lying on the floor.
The next thing Ventis checks for is his magic. Sometimes he gets lucky and his kidnappers will forget to do anything to suppress it. Others will rely on the old-fashioned gag + blindfold + thoroughly bound hands method. And then there was his least favorite: anti-magic enchantments.
He's blindfolded but not gagged. That leaves two options. There's only one way to find out which situation he has found himself in.
Ventis steels himself, then tries to summon a simple lightning spell. As soon as the first draconic word leaves his mouth, pain shoots from the cuffs through his whole body. He cries out and his knees buckle, putting agonizing pressure on his shoulders until he recovers and goes back to balancing on his toes.
Definitely enchanted. Shit.
"Oh, you're awake." It's a woman's voice, coming from somewhere off to his left.
Ventis gasps for air as he takes note of the way her voice echoes. It sounds like they're inside, and it's far cooler than any building should be in the heat wave the city's been experiencing. He's either been taken somewhere very far away, or he's in a basement. Hopefully the latter.
"If it is ransom you seek, you took the wrong Riinturuth. Father will not pay for me."
Ventis has said those words so many times now that he wonders if there's some list of kidnappable nobles somewhere that he needs to get his name removed from. Just because he's the first son does not mean he's the favorite.
"Oh, I know. Don't worry. That's not what this is about."
That's... odd. "What do you mean?"
"Simple. You're going to help me capture the Ventura boy."
Onthyes. Fuck.
That's the thing about having an important father and being close with someone who also has an important father. Double the kidnapping risk. This scenario has only happened once before, and Onthyes appeared in no time and easily overpowered Ventis's captors.
It was kind of hot, if Ventis is being honest.
But that's not going to happen this time. Not after the argument they'd just had. Especially since Ventis had stated very clearly that he didn't want Onthyes protecting him from everything all the time. Oops.
"I will do no such thing."
"But you're already doing it." The woman's voice is just in front of him now. Ventis flinches away from her. "He knows where you are, and when he comes for you he'll be all mine."
"He will not come for me," Ventis assures her. "This is a waste of your time and mine."
Ventis yelps as an open hand strikes his cheek.
"Don't lie," the woman hisses. "I've been watching him. He's protective of you to a fault. He'll come."
"I did not- '' Ventis's words are cut off by a strong hand gripping his throat, making him squeak and choke, barely able to keep his weight on his toes. Claws prick at the delicate skin.
"He'll come," she says again. "And when he does I'm going to make you watch as I tear open his throat."
"No," Ventis chokes out. "Please. Don't hurt him."
The clawed hand releases its hold and Ventis gasps and coughs. His legs shake from the effort to stay up on his toes.
"Here, open your mouth. This'll make you shut up."
Something is pressed to Ventis's lips and he recognizes it immediately by the smooth texture and faintly sweet smell alone. Nightspill. The very same drug he had just fought to free himself from.
He seals his lips tightly, trying to turn his head away despite the urge to open up and accept his return to the blissful numbness the pill offered. He had worked so hard to get sober. Onthyes and Shayah had worked so hard to help him. He can't go back now.
The woman growls, "Stop being difficult," and digs her claws into Ventis's side. He can't help but scream, and she pushes the pill into his mouth and then covers it with her other hand so he can't spit it out. "Swallow," she demands.
Ventis sobs and shakes his head, trying to twist away from her but only succeeding at making his shoulders burn unbearably from the pull of the chains. She digs her claws deeper and pulls, slicing slowly through his skin.
The blindfold soaks up Ventis's tears as he continues to scream and sob and struggle while still doing everything in his power to resist the urge to swallow. The taste is familiar on his tongue. It's so tempting - it would definitely help to dull the pain he's in.
That one stray thought is all it takes. Ventis swallows before he even realizes what he's doing.
The claws retreat from is side and he can feel hot blood streaming down from the wound. The woman pries his teeth apart, searching his mouth with metallic tasting fingers to make sure the pill is really gone. Ventis tries to bite, but he's too slow and winds up snapping his jaw on nothing.
"There." Ventis's captor sounds entirely unbothered as she steps away. "Maybe that will help you calm down."
Ventis feels panic waking up somewhere deep in his stomach and struggling to fight its way to the surface, but it dies out before his heart rate can even begin to pick up. He's left feeling fuzzy and peaceful and devastated all at the same time.
"Now all we have to do is wait."
They wait for a long time. Ventis's legs shake uncontrollably. His hands go cold and tingly and then numb. The nightspill wants nothing more than to lull him to sleep but every time he starts to doze off he loses concentration on standing on his toes and a blinding pain in his shoulders rips him back to consciousness.
Onthyes isn't coming. Ventis wonders how long it'll take for his captor to realize that and just kill him.
Then- "Let him go!"
Ventis jolts. "Onthyes?" He croaks. That absolute idiot. Does he not know a setup when he sees one? "What are you doing? Get out of here!"
Armor clunks loudly as Onthyes runs up to him. A gloved hand touches his cheek, then pulls off the blindfold.
Ventis blinks spots out of his vision, everything slowly coming into focus as Onthyes fusses over him. "Run," he insists weakly. "Please."
Onthyes ignores him, his brow furrowed as he examines the chains. "I need to find the key. Hang in there."
An involuntary laugh bubbles out of Ventis. "Hah, hang? That is all I can do, my friend."
Onthyes just sighs and shakes his head as he turns away.
That's when Ventis's captor strikes. She emerges from a shadowy corner and pounces on Onthyes, all sharp claws and jagged teeth that barely fit behind her red lips.
Onthyes yelps and staggers backwards as she clings to his back, her claws searching for any holes in his armor. After finding nothing she turns her attention to pulling his hair so hard his head hits a nearby stone wall and he falls to one knee.
Pounding footfalls, followed by a battlecry and the appearance of a hulking half-orc woman - Shayah. "I told you to fucking wait for me," she yells as she rips Onthyes's attacker from his back and throws her across the room. She hits the opposite wall hard and goes still.
Onthyes rushes over to Ventis as Shayah retrieves the key to the cuffs. She barely has to reach to unlock them.
Even nightspill can't dull the pain that follows as Ventis finally lowers his arms and lands on flat feet for the first time in hours.
Sensation rushes back into his limbs and he screams. Onthyes is there to catch him when his knees buckle, holding him and whispering something along the lines of, "It's okay. You're okay. I've got you. I'm so sorry. Just breathe. You're okay."
When the pain finally recedes some Ventis is left gasping and trembling. He lets Onthyes lower him to the floor, too exhausted to support his own weight anymore. Shayah begins to check him over, using some scraps of fabric to stem the bleeding from the claw marks in his side.
She makes eye contact with Ventis, then pauses, a look of concern crossing her face. "Are you on something?" she asks softly, cupping his cheek.
Ventis gives a tired nod. "Nightspill. I'm sorry," he sobs. "I-I didn't want to. She made me."
"Shit," Shayah and Onthyes mutter at the same time.
"I'm sorry," Ventis repeats. "I tried. I really tried."
Onthyes brushes Ventis's hair from his sweaty forehead. "It's alright. We're not upset with you. We'll take care of you."
Onthyes's kind words don't help, not when the echoes of their argument from last night still haunt Ventis. "I-I thought you wouldn't come. After last night-"
"Last night's not important. I'll always come for you. Always. I..." Onthyes looks away, shaking his head. "I should've walked with you. I'm so sorry."
"Alright, boys." Shayah claps her hands, getting both of their attention. "You can wallow in guilt and pretend not to be in love with each other later. Let's get out of here."
"Right." Onthyes takes Ventis into his arms carefully and lifts him up, and Ventis finally nods off with his head lolling against Onthyes's shoulder.
~~~
Next Part
Ventisposting taglist: @scp-1296 @sapphicccici @acer-gaysimpstuff @morning-star-whump @yeetmyskeet @rainydaywhump
@unicornbeck @whumperofworlds
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number1mingyustan · 9 months
Text
Expiration Date (2/2) ☾✹
Tumblr media
GIF by shatsusik
artist!joshua x model!fem!reader
Genre: smut, hurt, angst
Warnings: cursing, brief smut, explicit smut, mentions of pregnancy/miscarriage, arguments, a lot of angsty sad stuff
Summary: there’s only one way to go from here
Word Count: 4.1k
_______________________________________________
part 1
Out of the 206 bones in your body, you don't have a doubtful one that believes Joshua Hong is not your soulmate. Everything in you believes you were meant to be together.
You'd bet money that it was written somewhere in the stars.
He loved you and you loved him.
When you first met, everything fell into place with him so easily. He was kind and caring and things were simple with him. He would never shy away from compliments, often painting you because he thought you were so beautiful.
His muse.
It wasn't until he started painting you that his career really began to take off. His previous work was less abstract and interpretive, often capturing different colors and shapes. He never painted people, but of course that all changed when you came around.
His work was known before you, but his popularity skyrocketed, gaining worldwide attention and giving him much more credit within the art world.
You became a large part of his art. He's often mix different shapes and colors with your features. Your eyes, your breasts, your legs, everything he found beautiful about you really.
It gained a lot of attention and people grew curious to know who the mystery woman that appeared in all his new art was. Much like Joshua himself, they too thought she was beautiful.
But that was then. When your relationships still made you feel like you were floating and the honeymoon phase felt like it would never end.
You and Joshua Hong were meant to be part of each other's lives, you don't question that. However, you do question how long you were meant to be together.
---------------Two Years Ago ---------------
"I'm just so glad you guys were able to come down here and visit," Mrs.Hong says for the fourth time since the two of you arrived in LA.
You smile at her excitement.
"I hardly hear from my son since he moved all the way up to New York," she continues, shooting her son a glare.
Joshua rolls his eyes playfully. "I call you every week. Don't be so dramatic."
"It's not the same," she frowns. "I like having you here with me."
"Yeah well I've been busy with my art and everything," he sighs, pulling you closer to his side. His hand is on yours, thumb drawing small circles on your knuckles.
You lean into his touch, breathing in his natural scent. He's so warm and comforting. "Yes... extremely busy," you pout. "He does so much nowadays I can't even keep up with it all. All kinds of projects and interviews, don't know how he does it."
He smiles at you. "I've got the best support backing me up," he pats your head lightly. "With you by my side, I can handle anything."
He opens his mouth to speak again, but he's interrupted by the ringing of his phone.
"Oh- one second. Angel is calling," He excuses himself from the table and exits to take his phone call.
Angelina Yoon, his manager. You absolutely despised her. She was a great manager, you give her credit for that. She's incredibly smart and good at her job, but on a personal level? Couldn't stand her.
You didn't like the way she talked to you or the way she talked to Joshua. She flirted often and acted rudely toward you. Of course any time you brought it up to Joshua, he brushed it off. He'd tell you 'you're being dramatic' or 'she's just doing her job.'
Fucking Angel.
Not a very fitting name for her.
"Soooo where's the ring?" His mother asks, grabbing your hand and inspecting your fingers.
"Ring?" you ask.
"He hasn't asked yet?" she raises an eyebrow.
"I'm not sure what you're talking about."
"Aishh this boy," she sighs. "Four years and he still hasn't popped the question."
You retreat, pulling your hand back slowly and pushing your hair behind your ear. "Oh yeah... I mean it's fine. He works so much you know? I think he's just waiting for a better time.... did he mention anything to you about it? L-Like is he planning something?"
"No, I'm afraid not. If he is planning for it, he hasn't told me about it yet at least. I just assumed after all this time he would have done it already. I'll have to talk some sense into that boy," she scoffs.
Your heart breaks a little, but you don't let it show. It's already been a few months since it was first brought up. It was in a similar manner, his mother had brought it up in conversation months prior and put ideas into your head. But that time, Joshua was sitting at the table and he didn't seem too keen on the way his mother had suggested it.
You asked him about it that night and he explained to you how it wasn't the right time with his career taking off. It hurt, but you were understanding. It was something you strayed away from even bringing up.
It stung though.
When Joshua's art first started to gain popularity, Angel suggested keeping your relationship and identity a secret. No one knew who you were, they just thought you were pretty and that Joshua captured your beauty perfectly.
It would create more buzz for him to be capturing some sort of mystery woman. Angel talked about how much it would help his career to keep you in the shadows and him in the light. So you did it.
For nearly the first three years of your relationship, you were a secret. A mystery, a pretty face on a canvas with no name, a nobody. It wasn't easy, having to sneak around and keep your entire life private.
Part of you thinks you lost yourself in those first three years, but that's an entirely different issue.
Thankfully, after you did finally go public with things, the modeling agencies came flooding in and you were in high demand.
"Don't worry about it... I don't want to put any more pressure on him," you give her a half-smile.
She feels for you. "You're too nice sweetheart."
Before anything else can be said, Joshua walks back into the kitchen with an excited smile. You and his mother both look at him as he sits back down.
"So.. Angel just told me there's a huge art exhibit coming up in Sydney, Australia and their main exhibit just fell through so they want me to replace them," he beams.
"That's so great Joshie!" you smile and hug him. "I'm proud of you."
"Thanks honey, they want me to do all new pieces though, and they need me in Australia in two days. The exhibit is in three weeks," he explains.
"But we're supposed to stay down here for another week... and then we have our trip planned for Aruba. Josh... the whole point of this trip was so that we could spend our time together and with family. I cleared my schedule for this Joshua." you sigh. "Besides how are you gonna put together a whole exhibit's worth of pieces in two weeks."
"I know baby... but this is important work stuff. You understand, right? We can always plan another trip, but this is a big opportunity for me. My work would be extending all the way into Australia," he places his hand on your shoulder. "Besides I'll probably just use those sketches I've been working on"
"I mean yeah... it's really great Josh, for you. What about me? I cleared my entire schedule for this," you frown.
"I know baby, I'm sorry. I'm sure we can just book two tickets and you can come with me if you want," he suggests.
"I think I'd rather we just go home. You'll be working a whole bunch in Australia anyway," you bite the inside of your cheek.
"There's no time to go back to New York honey. They want me out there in two days. If you want me to book you a flight home, I can do that if you really wanna go back, but I can't go with you. I'm gonna have to leave straight from here. I was hoping you'd come with me."
You frown. "I don't really want to fly alone."
"I mean, you can stay here with mom, until I get back of course. I won't object to it, but I've got to book my flight in the next few hours. So just let me know ASAP," he leaves a quick kiss on your head and stands back up.
"Sorry ma, I'll come visit soon," he hugs his mother and kisses her cheek. "I promise... love you"
His footsteps grown faint as he makes his way upstairs for the night. Your heart breaks a little more. His mother glances at you, she really feels for you.
"I'm getting tired... think I'll go join him," you tell her with a sad smile. "Thank you so much for dinner, I appreciate it."
You give her a light hug before disappearing into the bedroom with Joshua.
_____
He got you pregnant that night. He was much more excited than you were, he couldn't keep his hands off of you. Pulled you onto his lap not long after you walked into the room.
He was quick to strip you and pin you down onto the bed. You were still upset, but the pleasure was a temporary fix for the pain.
Sweaty and passionate lovemaking between the thin sheets of the old bed. His hands were all over you that night. You let the pleasure consume you, allowed it to pull you away from reality.
He told you how much he loved you as he drilled his cock inside of you, even had to cover your mouth with his hand to keep you from being too loud. He whispered dirty words and sweet nothings into your ear and left purple hickies along your skin. He pounded into you over and over again that night, switching positions halfway through.
The bed was old, creaked and shifted every time he thrusted his hips into you. You came twice, once on his fingers and once on his cock.
And when he came, he came inside of you. It wasn't unusual for him to do so, but for some reason your birth control wasn't very effective that time.
You wouldn't know it that night, but you realize that was the best and worse night of your life.
Because as quickly as it came, it went.
You stayed with his mom in LA for the next month while he was in Australia. He didn't call you every day the way he said he would, but that wasn't the least bit shocking. He ended up having to stay another week after the showcase to meet with different people about his work.
While he was sitting in meetings and being interviewed, you were pacing around the bathroom anxiously awaiting the results of the pregnancy test sitting on the edge of the sink.
You didn't tell him until you went back home to New York. You ended up flying alone anyway, Joshua thought it was pointless to fly to LA and then New York when both of you could just go to New York and see each other at home.
He was beyond excited when you did tell him and foolishly got your hopes up about what the baby would mean for the two of you. You'd convinced yourself that having the baby would make Joshua more involved. You thought his excitement would translate into him being more present.
But then you lost the baby two months later and it caused you two to drift more. The doctors told you it was a miracle you were even able to conceive in the first place. They said you were basically infertile and if you were ever able to somehow conceive again, the fetus wouldn't even make it through the first trimester. You fell into a depressive episode, making reckless decisions driven by hurt and pain.
You had to quit modeling and be admitted. The next 9 weeks you got treated and you got better. Although things got better, you'd never say they reached the level of good.
Better is simply and improvement, not necessarily success.
Joshua never saw it that way. He didn't see the way you were still hurting and suffering. He thought you getting treatment and getting better meant that everything was okay. He thought that because you saw a therapist twice a week, that you would just be okay. Because you took two small pills every morning, he thought you were no longer suffering.
It's your own fault partially, you played the role. You hid your hurt well, contributed to his thoughts about you being fine. At first, it seemed like he cared a lot more. But with him constantly asking "Are you Okay?" it was easier for you to just say yes. It was easier for him to believe it too. He threw himself back into his art and didn't put in the extra effort to ensure the well-being of your mental health after that.
It took two years and a very heated argument for him to really see it.
---------------Modern Day ---------------
The bed is empty when you wake up in the morning. It's not a foreign feeling, unfortunately. But with everything that occurred last night, it feels worse than usual.
You're not sure where your relationship stands right now. There's a tightness constricting in your chest and you're dreading the idea of getting out of bed.
After nearly ten minutes of you rolling around in the bed and avoiding it, you finally got yourself out of the bed. You wince when your foot first meet the bedroom floor. A reminder of everything that occurred last night.
After you go into the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face, you walk cautiously and quietly through the penthouse. The temperature dropped again and the marble floors are cold on your bare feet.
When you reach the living room, you don't see Joshua anywhere. His blanket and pillow are still on the couch, but you don't see him anywhere.
You let out a breath of relief. You're really not ready to speak with him yet.
You walk into the kitchen, seeing that the glass is still shattered on the ground. You reach down, picking up some of the larger shards.
"Don't worry about it, I'll clean it up," Joshua says from behind you.
You jump at the sound of his voice. You weren't expecting him to come up behind you and startle you. However, you remain silent.
"You need to take your meds, it's past 11. You were asleep for a while," he says and begins picking up the other large shards of glass.
You stand to your feet and nod. You don't look at him, you can't. You simply walk around the island and open on of the cabinets to grab your medicine.
"You have been taking your meds everyday, right?" he asks.
It feels even colder in the kitchen suddenly. The tension in the air hasn't subsided. If anything, it's grown thicker.
"Yes Josh," you say.
Even after all those nights of sleeping alone, Joshua greeted you with a good morning and a kiss. At the very least you could expect some sort of greeting.
But now? Nothing.
"Don't forget to eat something," he reminds you quietly.
You nod. "Right."
You pop a slice of bread into the toaster and wait. It only takes two minutes, but it feels like an eternity. Joshua grabs the dustpan and broom to sweet up the glass.
It's uncomfortable quiet. Your stomach is turning in knots and your leg is bouncing anxiously.
"Where did you just come from? I didn't know where you were," you finally break the unbearable silence.
"On the balcony, needed some fresh air," he says, continuing to sweep up the remaining glass.
"It's thirty degrees outside."
He shrugs, disposing of the glass properly. "Just needed some fresh air. It's not much warmer in here anyway, damn thermostat is broken."
He avoids eye contact with you, stepping away from the kitchen quietly. Your heart rate spikes.
"Joshua..." you start. "We have to talk about-"
You're cut off when your toast pops up.
"Your breakfast is ready," he says shortly and fully leaves the kitchen.
Your eyes follow him. He walks back into the living room, grabbing the blanket he slept under and folding it back up. His footsteps fade as he disappears into the penthouse toward your bedroom.
You sigh and take a few bites out of your toast. You don't have much of an appetite with the way your stomach is churning. You chase the two small pills with a sip of water before walking toward your bedroom.
When you step into the room, Joshua is already in there making up your bed. He's cleaning to distract himself, to avoid you.
" 'Shua," You say quietly, leaning against the door frame.
"Wait," he continues folding the blankets on your bed. "I'm doing something right now."
" 'Shua," you say a little louder.
"Did you wash your dishes? I know you used a glass for the water," he asks.
"Joshua." You say firmly.
He sighs, giving up and sitting down on the bed. He runs his hands from his face up to his hair. You sit down on the bed next to him. In reality it's only a few moments, but it feels like an eternity of silence.
"I'm sorry," he starts.
"Don't apologize... we both said some hurtful, but truthful things last night," you bite the inside of your cheek.
A beat.
"You were right... I did give up on us a long time ago. But it wasn't unprompted, and I want you to understand that. I gave up before you could."
"What?" he asks, turning his head to look at you.
"You work so much... and so hard. I had no idea artists did so much until I met you, but your work has always been your priority. I love that you're passionate about your art, but you'll always put your work before me."
"That's not true," he defends.
"It is."
A beat.
You and Joshua Hong were meant to be, not meant to last. You shared your best and worst moments with him. You spent nearly 6 years creating unforgettable memories and sharing experiences you hold dear to your heart.
Your love was like a candle, it was once lit and burned with fiery passion. But it eventually burned out and faded into nothing but melted wax.
Fire may be pretty to look at, but touch it and you get burned.
"But I love you,"
"You don't.... not anymore"
"Don't try to tell me how I feel."
"Josh-"
"I don't know what it is you're trying to get at or do here, but it's fucked up. If this is you're way of trying to make excuses for falling out of love with me or something, then that’s just wrong Y/n.”
"Joshua! This relationship is not the way it was five years ago and you know it. You couldn't even thank me in your speech last night."
"You told me you were over that. I told you tha-"
"Stop cutting me off and let me speak!" you shout. "You forgot to thank me in your speech while I was standing in front of you with a painting of me displayed in my background. I have become an afterthought in your life and not a priority anymore. You managed to forget about me while looking directly at me... and a painting you did of me. If you loved me, if you really loved me, I would have been the first person you thanked. I wouldn't have slipped your mind Joshua. It may have been a mistake, but it told me everything I needed to know."
He frowns.
"You think you still love me because you love the idea of me. You-you love the way I look on a canvas and in exhibits. You love that even after 5 years of painting me, it still makes you money. But those fucking paintings don't have feelings he way I do," your eyes start to water. "You love the way Angel validates your artwork of me and is constantly working to get your work out there. You would never forget to thank Angel, because she's not just an idea or an afterthought to you. She gets you what you want and I just... don't."
"Oh my gosh how many times do I need to prove to you that I'm not fucking Angel?" he groans and stands up.
"Are you seriously still not listening to me? Not once did I accuse you of fucking her, and that's all you took away?! Fuck's sake Joshua!" You exclaim and stand to your feet. "I'm done."
"What do you mean 'you're done?'"
"It means... I can't do this anymore."
"So what... that's it? You wanna break up because of an argument?"
"IT IS NOT JUST AN ARGUMENT!" You scream. "I don't know how many ways there are for me to say it. I am exhausted, mentally, physically, emotionally. Last night... you said you weren't the only one who lost the baby. But when was the last time I modeled Joshua? I didn't get that chance to just jump back into my work after the loss. I'm sure it affected you, it was a horrible thing to go through, but I didn't just throw myself back into my work and move on. I am still struggling every day and you don't love me anymore. I have no reason to stay here with you."
The truth is... Joshua knows exactly what you're saying. For the first time, he's really really listening to you. He knows what you're saying is true, but he's having a hard time accepting it.
Joshua has never been good with criticism, being an artist and all.
The room is silent aside from you sniffling as you wipe away your tears. Joshua feels the knots twisting in his stomach and it's making him feel uneasy.
“I’m sorry… I know I should just accept it but I can’t. I’m hearing you, I really am. I just don’t want to let go… I won’t just throw away the last five years between us.”
“We can’t keep doing this Josh… holding onto nothing. There’s nothing that could really fix us at this point.”
“We could do therapy..” he suggests.
“Pay $200 a week just to have someone tell us what we already know? C’mon Josh, you know you don’t have the time for that.”
“I’d make the time.”
“You haven’t for the last few years… let’s not kid ourselves”
“So… you just wanna give up? You don’t want to try anymore?”
“I have been trying Josh. But it’s exhausting and there’s no point if there’s nothing worth holding onto anymore.”
“So… you don’t love me anymore either?”
“What?”
“You don’t love me anymore, do you? It’s not just me, right?”
“Yeah Josh, it’s mutual.”
His heart aches when you say it. The words leave a bitter aftertaste on your tongue.
"Okay," he says finally.
"Okay what?" You sniffle.
“Okay then… we’re done. There’s no point in staying together anymore.”
He runs the palms of his hands from his face to his hair and inhales.
“I hate that is had to come to this,” you say quietly.
“Yeah… me too” his voice breaks. “I can be out of here by tonight… you can keep the penthouse.”
“I couldn’t afford to live here on my own anyway, I’ll probably just uh- go back with my parents” You sniffle.
“You don’t-“
“It’s better that way, really.”
Silence fills the room. There’s so much to process. You really just ended things with the love of your life, your soulmate, your Joshie.
He sits on the floor with his back against the bed. He tilts his head back and sighs. You join him, sitting in an identical position next to him.
It doesn’t even feel real yet.
You’ve spent the last 5 years by his side with your mind filled with thoughts of how your story would unfold.
The aching in your heart hasn’t stopped, but you know this is for the best. It was long overdue, past the expiration date.
Much like a carton of milk, you can only drink it until it expires. Once it expires, it's no longer good and there's no way of restoring it to the way it used to be.
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© number1mingyustan - Do not repost without permission.
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zeephyre · 2 months
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CRITICAL ROLE CAMPAIGN 3 EPISODE 85 SPOILERS
IM LITERALLY ABOUT TO LOSE MY MIND YALL
Where do I even ??? start ???
I haven't been posting c3 as the episodes dropped in...a while actually, like right before they went to the feywild. i have many thoughts and many feelings about so many things that have happened since then and I'll summarise them so I can get to THIS episode.
fearne and ashton - love their shard powers, they're literally royalty and terrifying, and i want them to make-out. i can't wait to see them go full primordial again in a real combat situation.
imogen - save her. literally save her. free her, even. i love everything about the call of ruidus when it comes to imogen on a narrative standpoint, but...God I get so worried that we're gonna lose her. I don't mean she's gonna betray the hells, but...ruidus could take her and then i would simply perish.
laudna - before i really get into wtf went down this episode with her and she who must not be named, i gotta say... im worried. very very worried. however, that fireball was objectively the best shit ever.
fcg - i can't even really remember anything stand out abt fcg except what Sam pulled last night so.
chetney - still the heart of the team, still my baby girl, still my favourite. love him to bits.
orym - i think laudna is going to beat his ass one of these days and im... even more concerned about that after this episode. his nana morri powers are cool as fuck tho... does that make him a warlock now? i know he isn't multi-classing but wouldn't that be cool
ANYWAY WE'RE ON THE FUCKING MOON AND WE GOT MOON LORE AND EVERYTHING WAS SHITTY THEN FUN THEN SHITTY THEN FUN AGAIN THEN REALLY FUCKING SAD THEN IT ALL WENT TO SHIT AGAIN.
the moment imogen reached out to ruidus and matt mentioned that she could sense where other ruidusborn were i fucking knew that otohan was high tailing it in their direction, and i thought they instinctively knew that too but they probably got so distracted.
we were travelling for hours and had a huge fight that almost got them captured (not to be confused with the OTHER two fights that almost got them captured) and I was begging and screaming and crying for them to get a long rest safely hidden away AND THEN THEY SPLIT THE PARTY WITH BARELY ANY SPELL SLOTS OR HIT POINTS AFTER BEING DRAINED FROM ANOTHER BATTLE WHAT IS WRONG WITH THEM
(Sidenote, the willmaster really opened up the door to the further increase in moral pondering in a certain number of hellians. i do think using the harness is disgusting and hypocritical, but i don't condemn them for it, it just...makes me wanna vomit thinking abt what ludinus did with it. not to mention the HUNGER parallels between laudna and ludinus...its just not good yall. also??? objectively funny that fcg seemed weirded out by the idea of killing the willmaster, not just with the harness but in general, considering how many people they've killed up to this point)
idk if its just the inherent terror that an evil old hot lady can inspire that makes otohan so much more terrifying to me than ludinus. like, objectively, ludinus is a worse threat and could wipe them out EASILY but jesus otohan is like the damn reaper to me. it's the trauma from the laudna, fearne, orym massacre mixed with the underlying little drop from their uthodurn romp that let us know that resurrection spells are NOT working and idk if that got fixed bc of time passing or distance from the leylines but i really did not want to test that shit out in real time
thank...god that sam riegel is a damn genius player, that banishment of fcg and fearne was the ONLY reason fcg survived. and thank GOD FOR KEYLETH BECAUSE WITHOUT THAT CLOUD SPELL BELLS HELLS WOULD BE VERY VERY VERY VERY VERY DEAD RN.
God, "otohan has us. run." is going to haunt me just as much, if not more than the almost tpk. it just...shot me straight back to bassuras and the plan to run that just...immediately fell apart.
god fcg truly could have died there. and fearne would be captured. i know the hells would be too stupid and too brave and too loyal to leave fearne with otohan in their cloud form but can you imagine a world where fcg was gone, fearne was captured and the hells had to switch from recon to rescue... itd be stressful but pretty fun.
thankfully it didn't come to that and some good came from the shit.
ruidus is so beautiful. i was worried they'd end being trapped under ruidus while they explored (not that I wasn't on board with the detours, I wish this wasn't a time sensitive mission), but matt's imagery of the fossilized elven structure and garden made me sad but also happy that we got to see it.
i cannot believe that the stupid plan to shove fearne up a water hole happened AGAIN and it ended up with us FINDING A BACK HOLE TO RUIDUS GOD I LOVE THESE CHUCKLEFUCKS WHEN IS THE NEXT EPISODE MATT YOU CANNOT DO THIS TO ME. WHERE EVEN ARE THEY??? IS IT EVEN EXANDRIA???? WHAT DO WE DO IF IT IS EXANDRIA??? WHERE DID THIS HOLE EVEN COME FROM???? DOES IT CLOSE AND REOPEN??? IS IT STAGNANT?????? IS IT FUCKING STABLE?!?!?!?!?!
God...we could go back to keyleth and the others and actually invade ruidus without encountering the ruby vanguard. (that's if they're alright because otohan did go out onto the battlefield and we don't know what fhe fuck she did when the illusion fell through)
GOD. IS IT THURSDAY YET??? WE HAVENT EVEN FOUND THE RESISTANCE????
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