#EVERYTHING. HE LOST EVERYTHING. THERE WAS NEVER A MOMENT IN TIME WHERE HE WAS GUARANTEED HAPPINESS | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

punkshort · 5 months

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look what we've become - ch.4

Chapter Summary: You finally get a chance to talk things out with Joel, but when you volunteer to take Ellie back to her family, it causes more tension.

Chapter Warnings: language, talk of parental death, discussions of pregnancy and marriage, brief mention of slavery, angst, Ellie being a cockblock, Joel is a little mean at the very end

WC: 8K

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It was the end of August, and it felt like the summer saved the worst for last. The heat from the sun laid over the town like a thick blanket, making it nearly difficult to breathe when you were working, forcing you to take more breaks than usual. Working outside in the garden attached to the greenhouse was actually more comfortable than being inside the building itself, the humidity so stifling you could almost reach out and touch it, but you still chose to take your breaks inside. Right in front of the little oscillating fan. Pulling your hair off your neck, you ran a damp cloth across your neck and chest, collecting all the sweat that had accumulated there as the weak breeze from the fan dried your skin.

You were alone at work all week. A bitter part of you thought it fitting, considering how lonely you felt at home, too. But it afforded you a lot of time to think. And cry. But eventually, the tears stopped, your body too depleted and your head too sore to keep it up. Now all that was left was the loneliness and the guilt. The more you replayed that day in your mind, the worse you felt. The look on his face and the way he tried to hold back his tears haunted you at every turn. The pain in his voice, pain that you caused, unforgettable.

And you deserved it, the way he left. You deserved so much worse. He did so much for you, and this was how you repaid him? He saved you, time and time again. He found Jackson, he built you a home, built you a life. And he hardly asked for anything in return.

It shouldn't have come to this. You should have been an adult, talked to him before it was too late, discussed your plans for the future. But how could you be expected to, when you lived in a world where a future was hardly a guarantee?

It surprised you that he even wanted anything to do with you after that night. That he even bothered to ask if you still wanted him, shocked he would still want you. Of course, you told him you wanted him. You did want him. You loved him more than anything, but you didn't feel deserving of him. Not after the way you treated him. He deserved so much better.

And you felt so fucking selfish for keeping him. For breaking his heart, and then begging him to stay.

You promised yourself you were going to talk to him when he returned. That is, if he even wanted to talk. To tell him everything, put it all on the table and let him decide. You owed him that much.

When Jesse and Jake returned without him, your heart sank. You thought the worst. Standing at the gate with Maria on your one side and Carrie on the other, waiting for him to appear. Maria thought the worst, too. You felt it when she clutched your hand, after Carrie ran to hug Jake and you both watched them joyfully reunite, neither of you wanting to ask, afraid of the answer. To his credit, Jesse told you the story the moment he made his way through the small crowd of welcomers, instantly flooding you with relief.

It was really only a minute, maybe two, where you thought you lost him. The last conversation you had wouldn't be the last words he heard from you. But for that minute or two, your world stopped, you forgot how to breathe, and your only thought was - my life is over, I can't go on, I'll never experience a shred of happiness again.

So, yes. When he came home, you needed to do whatever you possibly could to fix the wound you caused. Because what you had was worth fighting for.

You stood, mustering the energy to get through the next couple hours before you could head back home when the greenhouse door swung open and shut very quickly, taking you off guard. You glanced up, not noticing anyone at first, and wondered if you imagined it before you saw the top of a girl's head bobbing along one of the aisles slowly, admiring the various plants and flowers that were so tall at this point in the season, it resembled a jungle.

"Hello?" you called out, craning your neck down the aisle. You made eye contact with the girl, one you didn't recognize, and she froze, staring at you with eyes widened, clearly not expecting anyone to be in the building.

Frowning, you began to walk towards her, but stopped when she looked like she was ready to bolt back out the door.

"It's alright," you said, holding your hands up to her. "What's your name?"

Her gaze shifted back and forth quickly between your eyes, examining you carefully before answering.

"Ellie."

"Hi, Ellie. Are you- is your mom or dad around?" you asked, lowering your hands. She shook her head.

"They're dead," she replied flatly, and you felt your heart squeeze in your chest.

"I'm sorry," you said softly. "Mine are, too."

She looked at you differently now, more with curiosity than fear. Taking a couple steps forward, with her finger trailing gently along the plants that hung over the side of the tables, she came closer to the end of the aisle, where you stood in front of your workstation.

"Yeah?" she asked, and you nodded. "Before or after?"

"After," you told her.

"Mine, too," Ellie replied, her voice laced with sadness.

You stared at one another for a few moments, both wondering what the other was going to do next. You knew Ellie didn't belong there, that she was trying to hide, and she knew you figured that out already.

"It really fucking sucked," you finally said, and her eyes lit up, the corners of her mouth turning up into a small smile before replying.

"Yeah, it did really fucking suck," she said, and you both giggled simultaneously.

You were about to offer her some water, noting she was wearing long sleeves on such a hot day, when the door burst open once again, startling you both. Tommy pushed inside and glanced around, his eyes immediately landing on Ellie, and his shoulders sagged with relief.

"In here!" Tommy called out through the open door. And it all happened so fast, you didn't even have time to process that if Tommy was home, then so was-

"Joel," you said softly to yourself when your eyes fell on his familiar, broad frame entering the building. He looked at you first before allowing his gaze to drift to Ellie, his brow furrowing with annoyance, then back to you. You swallowed roughly, and you heard Ellie curse under her breath next to you.

"Oh, great," she muttered, and you tore your eyes away from him to look at her now, for the first time putting the pieces together. This must be the girl Jesse told you they were taking to another camp in exchange for medicine.

"What're you thinkin', runnin' off like that?" Tommy said to Ellie, walking down the aisle towards her. You could feel Joel's eyes on you from where he stood by the door as you looked at Tommy questioningly.

"What's going on?" you asked. "I thought Jesse said you were taking her to another settlement?"

"Change of plans," was all Tommy offered, reaching his arm out and motioning for Ellie to step forward and follow him.

"She's staying?"

"Not for long," Joel finally said as he narrowed his eyes at Ellie.

"C'mon, you can stay with one of the teachers in town til we can get you back home," Tommy told her, sounding tired. Ellie followed behind Tommy slowly, admiring the plants as she walked.

"You're taking her back to her home?" you asked, following behind them.

"Yeah, no thanks to Joel," she said with a sneer as she walked by him. He rolled his eyes and moved out of the way, allowing Tommy and Ellie to exit.

"Will you two give it a rest? Goddamn, enough is enough," Tommy said, sounding like he was scolding two children. But before you could ask more questions, they were gone, leaving just you and Joel.

You looked at him, your fingers nervously fidgeting, tangling together. Now that he was right in front of you, you realized you had no idea what you were going to say. No rehearsed speech. And the way he looked at you in that moment made you feel like you kicked a puppy, his big, brown eyes wide with lingering pain, and the knot in your stomach tightened. Taking a shaky breath in, you straightened your posture, trying to summon some confidence, but failing.

"Did'ya move out?" he asked, breaking the silence, fists flexing at his sides.

"What?" you asked softly, your brows knit. "No, of course not." He exhaled loudly, like he had been holding his breath waiting for your answer.

"Do you... want me to?" you asked him, casting your eyes down to your feet, unable to look him in the eye if the answer was yes.

"No," he said simply, and you nodded, relief washing over you, eyes still glued to the floor.

The heat was becoming unbearable in the greenhouse now that you weren't directly in front of the fan. You dragged your eyes back up to Joel and noticed his shirt was already damp and his face was flushed, sweat trickling from his hairline down the side of his head.

"I have a couple more hours here, but after, did you want to talk?" you asked, chewing on your lip. He stared at you, his eyes wide, jaw tense, body rigid, and he nodded. Other than still looking hurt, he was impossible to read.

"Okay," you said softly, looking away and turning to pick up your bucket of tools and gloves from the ground. When you straightened back up, you were shocked to feel his strong arms wrap around you, pulling you into his chest quickly. Your eyes fluttered shut and you dropped your tools in favor of circling your arms around his waist. You inhaled deeply, missing everything about him: his scent, his warmth, his touch, his voice. His heart hammered in his chest, you could feel it fluttering against your cheek, and you squeezed him even tighter, not even caring about the heat anymore.

His arms loosened and you opened your eyes again, allowing him to take a step back so you could look up at him.

"Joel," you whispered, reaching a hand up to his jaw, but he took another step backwards, clearing his throat.

"I'll see you tonight," he said, then quickly pushed the door open, disappearing and leaving you all alone with your heart stuck in your throat and tears pricking the corners of your eyes.

He was relieved when he finally made his way home and confirmed with his own eyes that you didn't move your things out of the house. Back when he hurt Jake, he came home to find you in the middle of packing all your things, leaving him in agony for four excruciating months.

Dropping his gear by the front door, he dragged himself up the steps, wincing at the pain in his back and hips from the past several days on horseback, until he reached the shower. The heat from the water helped the ache in his bones, but he still popped two ibuprofen. He hardly slept well on these trips, his body not used to sleeping on the forest floor anymore, so the urge to collapse into bed was strong, but he fought it.

He wandered down to the kitchen in search of food, and finding some leftovers in the fridge, ate over the sink as he stared out the window, his mind reeling. He spent the entire trip wondering what was going through your head, and he was determined to find out.

Pacing around the house, he spent the rest of the afternoon trying to stay busy, trying not to let his anxiety squeeze his chest like it used to. His panic attacks had gotten much better over the past couple years, but he still had moments here and there that brought him to his knees. Usually, you were there to help, to talk him through it. To help ground him.

When you arrived home, he had your kitchen table upside down, the four legs sticking straight up in the air with tools scattered on the floor around him. His back was hunched over as he twisted a screwdriver into the wood firmly with a grunt, then sat back on his heels to give the leg a shake, testing for any movement before standing up with a sigh. Turning around, he froze when he realized you had been leaning up against the wall, quietly watching him work.

"Didn't hear you come in," he said, scooping down to collect his tools and putting them back in his toolbox, one by one.

"What are you doing?" you asked him, and you could feel your pulse quickening as your nerves settled in.

"Fixin' the table, been wobbly for weeks," he muttered, and you nodded as if you had any clue what he was talking about, fairly certain that he was just looking for something to do to occupy his time. He locked his toolbox and put it on one of the kitchen chairs before running his fingers through his hair roughly and turning back around to face you.

"Is it me?" he asked bluntly, and your eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"No!" you told him immediately, and pushed off the wall to close the gap, about to reach out to him, but hesitated. "It's absolutely not you," you confirmed again.

"Then what is it?" he demanded, chest rising and falling faster than normal as he stared at you, his forehead crinkled with worry.

"It's me," you said with a shrug, as if the answer was obvious. "I'm scared, Joel."

"What's there to be scared about?" he asked, tilting his head to the side, his hands itching to reach out and hold you, to prove there was nothing to fear.

"Everything!" you said, exasperated. "Look around! We barely survived this, and who knows what tomorrow will bring. But to have a baby? A helpless, little baby who doesn't understand they need to be quiet if we are in danger, who wouldn't have access to the medical care you and I had when we were little-"

"These new people have tons of medicine," he told you, shaking his head. "Whatever a baby would need, I can get."

"Okay, fine. But the rest, Joel... if we had a baby and something happened to this place... to us-" your voice caught in your throat at the thought of a baby being orphaned, all alone and scared. Then your mind drifted to your conversation with Ellie, the perfect example of a child abandoned, left to depend on strangers to take care of her.

It seemed as though Joel either made the same connection, or finally understood your fears, because he sighed and hung his head.

"Alright," he agreed, shoulders sagging.

"Joel, if a child is something you really want, it's not fair for me to stop you from doing that," you said, blinking away the tears.

"I don't want a kid unless it's with you!" he said angrily, turning away so he could pace around the kitchen. "Quit sayin' shit like that."

"I'm sorry," you said softly, sitting down weakly in one of the kitchen chairs, staring at your hands in your lap. He sighed and stopped pacing, choosing instead to brace his hands on the kitchen island, staring at you from across the room.

"It's fine," he said unconvincingly.

"No, it's not," you said, looking up and calling out his lie. You could see the tension in his jaw from where you sat across the room, a muscle twitching under his patchy beard.

"No, it's not," he echoed in agreement. "But I'll get over it."

You weren't sure what to say after that. Part of you wanted to tell him again that he deserved everything he wanted out of life, and you felt so selfish for not feeling the same way, but you knew he would get angry if you suggested it again. So you remained silent, letting him work through his thoughts while you waited.

"And marriage?" he asked after a few minutes, trying to keep the hurt from his voice.

"I think I just need some time," you told him, feeling guilty enough for denying him a family.

"Okay," he said, looking down at his hands splayed on the counter. His face relaxed as he audibly exhaled, and you could tell your answer gave him a bit of relief.

"Are you sure it's okay?" you asked timidly, and he glanced back up at you.

"Yes," he said, pushing off the counter and rounding the island. He crouched down in front of you, still seated on the kitchen chair haphazardly placed in the middle of the room, the kitchen table still upturned. Taking your hands in his, he gave them a reassuring squeeze. "We'll get through this," he told you softly, and you pressed your lips in a thin line to keep them from trembling.

"You promise?" you asked shakily, eyes watering, and he nodded.

"Promise," he said firmly. He reached up, fingers pinching your chin gently as you stared at one another before he tugged your face forward, pressing his lips softly against yours. You could tell he was trying, but you didn't feel the usual heat behind the kiss. It felt mechanical and distant, but when he pulled back, you forced a small smile, anyway.

Maybe you both just needed some time.

Tommy didn't waste any time. The very next day after arriving back in Jackson, he began to organize a group of men to go raid the neighboring police stations for guns and weapons, Joel included. The plan was to only be gone for one night, maybe two, which wasn't too bad, but considering the fragile state of your relationship, it made you uneasy.

You both went through the motions of your typical routine. Getting ready for work at the greenhouse while he repacked his bag with fresh clothes and food. The morning he left, he walked you to work like he normally would, neither of you hardly saying a word, both trying not to acknowledge the ripple of tension between you. He gave you a quick kiss, told you he would miss you, you told him to be safe, and you each went your separate ways.

You wished you had more time together before he had to leave again, maybe it would have made you feel better. Less anxious, less distracted, less questions. The first morning was spent rethinking everything the two of you said, every interaction. And you tried not to dwell on the fact that, for the first time in a very long time, you woke up without his arms around you. Instead, he was curled up on his side of the bed, not even facing your direction. So, when Ellie found her way back into the greenhouse that afternoon, you were grateful for the distraction.

"Hey," she said softly behind you, causing you to jump.

"Ellie! Hey, what are you up to?" you asked her, standing up with a grunt. You had been hunched over for too long, as evidenced by your spine crackling when you stretched.

"Nothing really," she said, glancing around at the plants. You noticed once again that she was wearing a long sleeved shirt.

"Did Julia offer you any new clothes?" you asked with a frown.

"Yep."

"Aren't you hot?"

"A little," she said with a shrug, and you decided to drop it when it became clear she wasn't going to offer more of an explanation.

The two of you spent the next couple hours occasionally chatting, but mostly sitting in a comfortable silence while you worked. Ellie would watch you and ask if you needed help, and to make her feel useful, you would ask her to get you a watering can, or a certain tool. She seemed to enjoy helping, noticing she became more relaxed as the afternoon wore on.

"You know, you're staying right across the street from my house," you told her as you began cleaning up.

"I know," she said, and you looked up at her, surprised.

"You do?"

"Yeah. I saw you come home yesterday," she said, perched on top of your workstation, legs swinging back and forth.

"Oh. Why didn't you say anything?" you asked as you lifted your apron over your head to hang on the wall.

"Dunno. You seemed like you were in a rush."

She was perceptive. She didn't offer much about herself, but she seemed to read people very well. A byproduct of the last few years of her life, most likely.

"I know all this must be confusing for you," you said, leaning up against the workstation, crossing your arms. "But you can stop by my house anytime, alright? If you need anything, or just want to come hang out. Here, too. If you want."

"Yeah, okay," she said quickly, a small smile spreading across her face. "Thanks."

"You wanna walk with me back home?" you asked her, and she nodded, slipping down from the table and bouncing alongside you as you walked out of the building and back into the sweltering heat.

"How's it going over at Julia's?"

"It's fine," Ellie replied, kicking a small stone as you walked up the street together. "She's nice. But..."

You glanced at her from the corner of your eye, waiting for her to continue.

"She's old. And she's a little boring. Gave me a bedtime like I'm some little kid and made me say my prayers before dinner," she said.

"How old are you, anyway?" you inquired, realizing you never asked before.

"Almost fourteen."

"Yeah, that's a little old for a bedtime," you said, nodding in agreement as you approached your house. You stopped in the middle of the road, expecting Ellie to say her goodbyes and head over across the street, but she hesitated.

"You wanna grab dinner with me?" you asked her, and she looked up at you with a grin, nodding enthusiastically. You smiled back and jutted your chin towards Julia's house.

"Go tell her I'm taking you to the dining hall, I just want to change real quick and I'll meet you back out here."

"Okay!" Ellie replied, looking the most excited you'd seen her since you met.

After you cleaned yourself up, you stepped out of your door to find Ellie pushing herself back and forth on your swing at the end of the wraparound porch.

"Having fun?" you teased, and she jumped off the swing, sticking the landing and trotting over to you.

"Yeah, your house is really cool," she said, following you down the steps as you made your way to the center of town.

"Thanks. Joel built it for me. Well, the swing and porch, anyway."

"Joel?" she said questioningly, her nose scrunching up.

"Yeah, he was with the group-"

"I know who he is," she said, cutting you off and casting her eyes down to her feet. "Are you guys married or something?"

"Uh, no," you said, ignoring the fluttering in your chest. "But we're together."

"Oh," she said quietly.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. He just doesn't seem to like me much," she said with a shrug, but you could tell she was trying to put on a brave face.

"I'm sure that's not true. He doesn't even know you," you said, walking up the steps to the Tipsy Bison.

"Don't think that matters," she mumbled. "He didn't want to bring me here. Wanted to take me back to them."

Joel had briefly told you about Ellie's history with the Fireflies the night before, that Ellie was forced into slavery, but he failed to mention his own opinions about her.

"He's a good man. He's just got a lot going on lately," you said, hoping to leave it at that. Ellie eyed you curiously, but let it go, flopping down in a chair at an empty table, head swiveling around the room to check out all the people while you went to the bar to place an order with Seth. When you came back with your food, the dining room had grown more crowded, most of the tables already filled. Ellie's eyes lit up when you placed the tray of food down in front of her.

"Thanks! This place is so fucking cool," she said before digging into her food like it was her last meal.

"Yeah, we are really lucky," you agreed.

"Were you here when this place was built?" she asked you around a mouthful of food.

"Not at first," you said, then proceeded to tell her a bit of your own story. How you and Joel knew each other before the outbreak and you traveled across the country to try to find Tommy, never expecting to find him in the town you now called home. She nodded along eagerly, hanging on your every word and asking questions along the way. You chose to leave out a few parts to your story that a child shouldn't have to hear about, focusing more on how you both survived and depended on one another for safety, instead.

"Was he a dick before the outbreak, too?" she asked you after she had long finished up her dinner.

"Ellie!" you scolded her, but you smirked. "Actually... he was worse," you said, and you both dissolved into a fit of giggles.

"No, seriously, he's not that bad. He comes off like he's all tough, but deep down he's a softie," you said. "There's a whole other side to him that's just..." you trailed off, your eyes glued to the table as you thought about Joel.

"Just what?" she asked, urging you to continue.

"Just really good. He's loving, and sweet, and caring. He would do anything for this town, puts himself at risk all the time, expects nothing in return," you said, realizing you were rambling, but Ellie didn't seem to mind. "I'm really lucky to have him."

Ellie looked at you for a few moments, studying your face as you struggled to hide your feelings. Rehashing everything that you love about Joel just made you feel even worse, wishing for the millionth time that you weren't so selfish, that you could give him what he wanted.

"You guys have been through some shit, huh?" she said, and you looked back up at her. Very perceptive.

"Yeah," you said softly, and that was all she needed to hear.

"Alright, then," she said dramatically, standing up from the table. "I guess I could give him another chance. For you."

"How generous of you," you joked, standing up as well and leading her to the exit. "If history is any indicator, Joel tends to need a couple chances before people start to like him."

You both laughed as you headed back down the street, the sun beginning to dip lower behind the houses. Ellie was in the middle of telling you about a comic book she was reading, enthusiastically acting out her favorite parts of the story, when you finally made it back home.

"Okay, kid. You should probably get home. It's close to your bedtime," you teased, and she scoffed at your joke, rolling her eyes.

"Fine, I guess I'll have to pick up where I left off tomorrow," she said, begrudgingly heading across the street to Julia's house.

And that was exactly what she did. You had been in the greenhouse for all of ten minutes before the door swung open and Ellie burst in, this time with her comic book in hand so she could read it out loud to you while you worked.

The entire second day Joel was gone, you spent with Ellie. You told her odd pieces of information about Jackson, she would read or quietly draw your plants on some crumpled loose leaf paper she had stuffed in her backpack, never really giving away much information about her own history. But you didn't mind. You knew if she ever wanted to share, she would do it in her own time. You just wondered how much time the two of you would have left.

Joel arrived back in Jackson early on the third day. You were surprised to hear your front door open as you were making yourself a quick breakfast in the kitchen.

"Hey, you're up early," you called over your shoulder. "Are you hungry?"

"Already ate," Joel's deep voice rumbled somewhere behind you, and you spun around in surprise.

"You're back," you said, trying to get your bearings.

"Who'd you think it was?" he asked, dropping his backpack on top of the kitchen table.

"Ellie," you said, turning back to the stove to shuffle your eggs around in the pan.

"The kid?" he asked you, and you nodded.

"Yeah, she's been keeping me company the past couple days. She's really funny and smart," you said, turning the stove off and sliding your food onto a plate. You walked over to him, taking in his dirty clothes and face. Setting your plate down on the table, you took a step closer and hooked a finger into one of his beltloops. It wasn't lost on you that he neglected to greet you in his normal fashion. Accustomed to him wrapping you in his arms and pulling you in for a searing kiss, minimally.

"How'd it go?" you asked quietly, staring up at him, trying to read his face.

"Good," he said gruffly, seemingly unphased by your hand so close to his belt. "Got the guns. Tommy's gonna organize another trip back to the Fireflies to drop 'em off, tell 'em the kid ran off, and hope they let us keep the meds."

"Does that mean you're leaving again?" you asked, trying to keep the disappointment from your voice.

"No, he's gonna send some other guys. Said we earned a break," he said. His hands that would normally be all over you were shoved deep in his pockets.

"That's good, you need to relax," you said, bringing another finger up to hook into a beltloop. You pushed yourself up on your tiptoes to reach up and give him a soft kiss, one which he returned, but didn't deepen.

"You gotta get to work?" he mumbled, tipping his chin down to break the kiss. You shook your head.

"Day off," you whispered, trying to sound suggestive. "I can help you relax, if you want," you added. You felt nervous, your heart thumping loudly in your chest, not sure what he was thinking and afraid of being shot down.

He finally dragged his gaze back to you, and you swore you saw a familiar glint of lust flash across his dark eyes. You held your breath, waiting for him to say something, anything, to make you feel less exposed.

"Maybe later. I gotta clean up," he said. You deflated a bit, but noticed he hadn't attempted to move away, so you tried again.

"I don't mind. I like it when you're dirty," you said, sinking your teeth into your lower lip, and that seemed to do the trick. His nostrils flared and he took a deep breath, his eyes falling to your lips. And finally, he dragged his hands out of his pockets to reach down and cup your ass, pulling you against him roughly with a grunt. You gasped when you felt the hard outline of his cock pressed against your stomach, then hungrily covered his mouth with yours, your tongue swirling around his as your hands left his belt to grip the dark curls at the base of his neck.

"Missed you," he mumbled against your mouth before greedily making his way to your neck, his fingertips digging into the plumpness of your ass.

"Me, too," you whispered, closing your eyes and tipping your head to the side, giving him better access.

"Ew, gross," you heard Ellie say, startling you both. You jumped away but Joel strategically stayed behind you, adjusting himself when Ellie wasn't looking.

"Whaddya want?" Joel asked roughly with a frown. Ellie plopped herself down in front of your abandoned plate of eggs and took a forkful before screwing her face up into a grimace.

"These are cold," she said, but continued to shovel more in her mouth, anyway.

"Good morning to you, too," you said to her before walking back over to the stove, heating up the pan to make more food.

"Morning," Ellie replied, mouth full of eggs.

"Didn't anyone ever teach you to chew with your mouth closed?" Joel asked her, arms crossed over his chest. "Or to knock before bargin' into stranger's homes?"

"Nope," Ellie said with a smirk, and let her jaw fall open so Joel could see even more of her partially digested food. He made a face and rolled his eyes.

"Lovely," he said sarcastically, looking away.

"Besides, she's not a stranger," Ellie said, nodding in your direction. You smiled to yourself, your back to the pair of them, pleased that the girl found a friend in you after all she had been through.

Joel sighed and dropped his arms to his sides as he headed towards the stairs.

"I'm gonna go wash up, then we gotta meet Tommy and Maria at the town hall," he told you. You frowned, turning away from your eggs.

"What for?"

"Informal council meeting. To figure out how to get this one out of here," Joel replied, shooting a look at Ellie. Her chewing paused as she looked back and forth between you and Joel.

"Oh. Right," you said with a nod as he headed up the stairs, the bedroom door shutting behind him.

"You're on the town council?" Ellie asked, and you shrugged, turning the burner off for the second time and sliding your eggs onto a new plate.

"Guess I am now," you said, and joined her at the table. You both chewed thoughtfully while you heard the shower turn on upstairs, right above your heads.

"What if I wanted to stay?" she asked you quietly, staring down at her eggs.

"I don't know, Ellie," you said with a sigh. You had a feeling this was coming.

"Can you try to convince them?" she asked you earnestly, looking up at you now. "If you're on the council, maybe you can tell them to let me stay."

You chewed on your lip, trying to figure out how to handle the delicate situation.

"It's complicated," you said. "They are lying to those people to protect you. If the Fireflies ever found out, it could be really bad."

She nodded solemnly and looked back down at her plate briefly before shoving it away and standing up.

"I should go," she said, avoiding your gaze as she headed toward the door. You stood up to follow her.

"I'm sorry, Ellie," you said, and you really were. You didn't want to tell her that you wanted her to stay just as badly, that you didn't have any power to make that wish come true, that you were just another adult who failed her.

"It's fine, I'm used to it," she said over her shoulder as she swung the door open. "Thanks for breakfast," she added, jogging lightly down the steps and shoving her hands in her pockets as she headed back across the street.

You sat quietly at the conference table while Tommy went over the plan to return Ellie to her family. Someone must have asked her where she was from, because Tommy had a map spread out on the table with Phoenix, Arizona circled in red marker, his fingertip gently tracing up the map slowly until he found Jackson.

"Probably take a week to get there. Week to get back," he said, straightening up to look at the group. Besides you and Joel, Maria was also there, along with Bill, the town doctor, Eugene, and Claire, a high school teacher. "Figure it shouldn't take many people, I don't want to leave this place defenseless just in case this blows back on us."

"Who is going to take her, Tommy?" Claire asked, her glasses sliding down her nose as she leaned forward on the table.

"Me and Maria volunteer. I'll see if Jake's up for another trip, and maybe one more," he said, avoiding eye contact with Joel. You shifted in your seat, about to open your mouth to volunteer when Joel's head whipped towards you, shooting you a glare that said don't even think about it.

"I'll do it," Eugene said.

"I'll need another group to take the guns to the Fireflies, was kind of hopin' you might take the lead since you know 'em," Tommy replied, and the older man nodded.

"Wherever you need me," he said.

"I'll go with Eugene to take the guns," Joel offered, and you stiffened in your seat.

"Alright, maybe Jesse'll go with you and that should be enough. I oughta warn 'em we're comin'. I'll radio over later today, see if I can get ahold of Marlene, tell her the story," Tommy mumbled, jotting down a note for himself as he spoke. "I'll ask Carl to come with us to take Ellie."

You cleared your throat, drawing the table's attention.

"What if she stayed?" you asked, and Tommy paused for a moment, glancing at Joel before looking back at you. "What? Is it that absurd? She said she wants to stay, and that way we aren't risking the lives of four people to get her to Arizona safely."

"No, we would be riskin' the lives of the whole town if she stayed," Joel countered. "If those Fireflies ever find out we lied, we're fucked."

"He's right, darlin', I'm sorry," Tommy said. Maria cast you a sympathetic glance and you sighed.

At least you could say you tried.

They had agreed to disband each group in a couple days, allowing everyone a chance to rest up, as well as give Tommy an opportunity to touch base with the Fireflies over the radio.

Joel gripped your elbow once you were both far enough away from everyone as you made your way home, pulling you closer.

"You weren't about to volunteer to take that kid, were you? Tell me I'm crazy for thinkin' that," he muttered lowly next to you.

"I didn't volunteer, did I?" you shot back, not exactly answering the question, and he knew it, but he still released your arm. "Besides, you volunteered to take those guns to the Fireflies, when you just told me you weren't going. Like that isn't even more dangerous? What if they see right through this lie and do something?"

"That's different and y'know it," he said, and you scoffed.

"Right, because it's you," you replied, rolling your eyes.

"No, 'cause this needs to get done, and it needs to get done right. And I ain't riskin' my neck takin' that kid back to her family," he said, jaw clenching. "Neither of us are riskin' it. It was a mistake to bring her here in the first place."

You opened your mouth to argue back, but decided against it. He got what he wanted anyway: you were staying home. That aside, you could tell your relationship was still in a fragile state, and you weren't interested in making it any worse.

The next morning, you arrived at the greenhouse, leaving Joel behind in bed at home. He would typically walk you to work, but you wanted to make sure he got as much rest as possible before yet another journey outside the walls of Jackson. You were still disappointed that he volunteered for the task, especially after he told you he would stay home, and the insecure part of you wondered if he was trying to stay busy as a way of avoiding you.

It wasn't until closer to lunchtime that Ellie finally joined you at the greenhouse, much to your relief since you had become used to her being around to keep you company.

"Hey kid, where have you been all morning?" you asked her when she came in with no more than a silent nod in your direction as a greeting.

"Maria came by," she said, and you noticed right away her voice sounded distant. You stopped what you were doing so you could give her your full attention.

"She said I'm leaving in a few days, wanted specifics on where my aunt and uncle lived," she continued, and you nodded along, wiping the sweat from your brow with the back of your hand. She was avoiding eye contact, focused entirely on her open backpack and rifling through her meager possessions.

"I'm sorry, Ellie. I did try, you know, in the meeting. But it wasn't up for debate," you told her. She nodded in acknowledgement, still keeping her eyes cast down.

"I get it. I know there's some people who really don't want me here," she said, choosing not to name names, but you knew who she meant. "But at least we still have a week."

She must have noticed your silence because she finally glanced up at you.

"Maria said it will take a week to get me there. You are going, right?" she asked. Your face must have given you away because she clenched her jaw and shook her head. "Are you fucking kidding me, man?"

"Ellie-"

"You have to come with me!" she pleaded now, her eyes wide. "Please!"

"I can't, I'm so sorry," you said, your heart breaking at the expression on her face. She stomped angrily across the room, tears welling up in her eyes as she gave you a firm shove, making you stumble back in surprise.

"Not fucking cool," she said, giving you another shove, nostrils flared. And then another. And another, until you were up against the wall and couldn't move backwards any further. Two tears fell down her cheeks and her fists were raised to pound on your chest out of frustration, but you quickly wrapped your arms around her instead and pulled her in close for a hug, tears blurring your vision.

"I'm sorry," you repeated over and over as you held her in your arms, gently swaying back and forth as she cried silently against your chest.

"I need to tell you something," she said, pulling away and wiping her nose with the back of her hand. "But you need to promise not to tell anyone."

"What-"

"Promise me!" she yelled, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks as she stared at you with a fire in her eyes.

"I promise," you told her. She looked at you for another minute, as if she were deciding whether or not to really tell you. She sighed, glancing back at the closed door once before pulling up the sleeve of her shirt.

You raced down the street, sweat collecting at the base of your neck and hairline, as you bobbed and weaved your way to Maria's house, hoping Tommy would be there. You could hardly think straight, the past thirty minutes completely sending you off the deep end. She's immune, she's immune, she's fucking immune.

Knocking erratically on the front door, you struggled to catch your breath, wiping the sweat away as best you could with your other hand while you waited impatiently for an answer. Just as you were about to start knocking again, the door swung open and Maria stood on the other side, giving you a confused look.

"Is Tommy here?" you gasped, and she nodded, her eyes widening at your demeanor and ushered you inside.

"Are you okay?" she asked you, and you nodded, glancing in the living room to find it empty before you headed to the kitchen. You stopped cold when you saw Joel was there with his brother seated at the table, two maps spread out in front of them. They both looked up when you entered the room, and Joel stood from his chair immediately, coming over to you with a look of concern.

"What's wrong?" he asked you, taking you by the shoulders to give you a once over, but you stepped aside so you could address Tommy behind him.

"I'm coming with you to take Ellie back to her family," you told him.

"Like hell you are!" Joel roared, dropping his hands from your shoulders, but you ignored him. Tommy sighed, looking back and forth between you and Joel, before standing up from his chair.

"Darlin'-"

"No, Tommy. I'm going. You said yourself you needed a fourth person."

"You ain't goin' anywhere," Joel said, narrowing his eyes. You finally caved and met his gaze. "We talked about this," he added.

"Things change," you said, and he bristled at your response.

"What changed?" Tommy asked calmly, and you turned your attention back to him.

"She's scared. She wants someone she trusts to go with her," you said, only half lying.

Tommy and Maria exchanged glances. You waited for a response while Joel seethed next to you, staring daggers at his brother.

"Tommy, she ain't-"

"We need a fourth, Joel," he said, cutting him off.

"Find someone else!" he yelled, running his fingers through his hair.

"I can do it, I can handle myself," you assured Tommy, ignoring Joel's reaction once again, knowing you only had to convince one person. "You know I can handle myself."

Tommy gave his brother a pained look before looking back at you.

"Alright," Tommy said, and you breathed a sigh of relief. "I'll keep her safe, Joel," Tommy promised, daring to look at Joel, who was brimming with so much anger, his face looked flush.

You glanced at Joel, his jaw clenched so tightly you wondered if he was cracking his molars. His gaze bounced between you and Tommy, not sure who to channel his rage toward.

"Joel, it will be fine. Sit down, you're going to give yourself a heart attack," you said, trying to smooth things over, but it was no use.

"Fuckin' hell," he grumbled, rubbing his eyes. "Guess I'm goin', too."

"That's fine, I'll shift some guys around, send Jake with Eugene," Tommy agreed with a nod. Joel just stared at the ground, taking deep breaths, trying to control his temper.

"Thank you," you whispered to Joel, reaching a hand out to place on his shoulder, but he stepped away.

"Thought you didn't want kids, why don't you make up your damn mind," he snapped, and it felt like he punched you in the gut. He turned on his heel towards the door, slamming it shut behind him.

Your eyes filled with tears and your face flushed with embarrassment as Tommy and Maria glanced awkwardly at one another. Maria stepped forward and wrapped an arm around your shoulders so she could lead you into the living room.

"You wanna talk about it?" she asked you, handing you a tissue. You shook your head and dabbed your eyes.

"Not right now," you said quietly. "Thank you. I'm sorry I put you in that position, I didn't know he was here," you said, addressing Tommy, who was leaning against the doorway, watching you both.

"It's alright, he'll get over it, I know how to handle my own brother," he said with a smirk. You chuckled and wiped your nose before taking a deep breath.

"I should probably go," you said, trying to force a smile. Maria walked you to the door and reminded you quietly that she was there if you wanted to talk. You gave her a quick hug and thanked them both before heading back down the street towards home, hoping Joel had a chance to cool down and come to his senses.

If Ellie was immune, you needed to make sure she got in the right hands, to have a chance to explain to her remaining family the gift she was given, and if you were the only person she could trust to confide in, then so be it. You wanted to tell Joel the truth, but you made her a promise, and you weren't going to let her down again.

Tag List @nana90azevedo @ninaminaromina @untamedheart81 @taz-97 @nastiasnow @amyispxnk @plz-be-solo @iloveramensm @caitlynsixxx @anoverwhelmingdin @harriedandharassed @jessthebaker @txtattoostark - if your name is crossed off, it won't let me tag you. lmk if I missed anyone

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reds-writings · 3 months

Text

if only tonight we could sleep?

the dora lange case had come to a close...but was it really ever over?

(pairing: rust cohle x fem!reader)

a/n: inspired by getting lost in the sound of the cure's kiss me, kiss me, kiss me album. this is set somewhere in the same world of jealousy, jealousy!. your feedback, as always, is greatly treasured!

word count: around 2.6k

warnings: angst, canon-typical death (mentions of what happens at the Ledoux shootout), nudity (showering together!), cursing, dread, etc (minors go away)

The Dora Lange case had finally been closed once and for all. All the bullshit and danger that had accumulated over all these weeks could finally cease to continue. You’re sure that even within the next twenty something odd years or so when all of this would be well blown over and buried you would never be able to truly process the fucked up-ness of it all.

Your mind was thoroughly numb and all of your limbs ached to no end. You could feel everything you’d endured catching up to you as your body finally allowed itself to let go. Adrenaline and sheer will had been what kept you from fully crumbling during the case’s most crucial and final moments. The shit Rust and Marty decided to pull with that druggie Ginger had already left you worse for wear. Discovering Ledoux and the horrors that were transpiring in that shithole was something you couldn’t let yourself dwell on for too long lest you wanted to find yourself having a complete mental breakdown. Bodies and skulls being blown to bits right in front of you. The sight of rich blood and scattered brain matter sprayed to stain onto your boots. Finding those kids like that…you’d never get over it. One was sentenced to a life of trauma that left her catatonic and the other one deceased. You’d had the naive thought more than once telling you if only we'd all been a bit quicker…

But there was no point in dwelling on all the ifs and maybes. That was a guaranteed one-way ticket to self-induced insanity.

You should feel relief that this is over. The weight of one of the many atrocities committed in the world removed from your down-trodden shoulders. Solved. A monster taken down and put into the earth where he couldn’t return to cause more strife. Why couldn't it feel over? Where was the relief?

You didn’t know much of what Rust and Marty felt on the matter, too busy dealing with keeping your stories straight on just how you all had come across Ledoux’s hideout instead of finding the time to have a heart-to-heart on how much this might’ve permanently screwed with your heads for ages to come. You knew well enough that ending the case like this wasn’t easy for either of them given their respective standpoints when it came to kids. Marty discovered those children and both men had carried them back. Rust had shouldered the burden of carrying that poor boy. A small choice of action that had your heart twisting even more painfully than you thought it already had during it all. The Texan could go on and on about the world being shit and there being no control over the horrors one would be put through trying to live life but you found that it was he who tried the hardest to shield others from said pain and horror whether he was aware of it or not. He cared a lot more about the human race than he let on but it would be more than ineffectual trying to convince him of that particular truth.

Things with Rust had been all over the place since the fiasco of a night you had after the bar as well as any event that followed afterwards: surprise, surprise. The time you’d initially aimed for to really sit down and decipher where it was exactly you saw the two of you headed had found itself slipping away at every possible chance. Neither of you was to necessarily blame, as the nature of your work was in constant demand of your full attention, but that didn't make it any less frustrating.

You guys weren’t even truly anything yet and it was already this arduous. What kind of shelf-life did a pairing such as this really have down the line? It was more than likely that acting on any idea of pursuing Rust romantically was destined to never end in your favor. He was your coworker for Christ’s sake. Yes, there was no one else who could probably understand what it is you go through like each other but it was harder to separate other crueler aspects of your lives as well. Everything would get in the way of professionalism. It already had when it came to the showdown with Ginger.

Trying not to let your thoughts go down the usual Rust rabbit hole it found itself in you decided that you’d take the longest and hottest shower you hadn’t had the luxury of taking in weeks. Any extra time you had lately was reserved for quick and cold rinses to keep yourself up and at 'em’. Relaxation in any sense of the word was hard to adjust to after long stretches of work such as these. It was like your body had forgotten how to just be. Nothing was chasing you and there was no clock ticking over your shoulder to mock you that time to get shit done was running out. The empty quiet that followed would never not be unnerving to you. You had nowhere to be and nothing to do.

Where was the fucking relief?

With a huff, you set aside the jack and coke you’d been cradling out on your front porch in the dwindling evening light. The air was more balmy than the stifling hot you’d experienced day in and day out though your skin still held that essence of a humid dew that kept your hair and clothes sticking to you like a second skin. Dusting off your pants you made way to get on up from your depressing reverie only to find the outline of a familiarly limber figure at the end of your driveway. How the hell hadn’t you heard him pull up?

“Are you gonna stand there like a regular ol’ weirdo or get up here?” You feigned nonchalance at his sudden presence but your heart told another story with the quickening pace it decided to adopt.

Wordlessly, Rust ventured his way up the pathway and onto your shabby porch. He eyed the abandoned drink you had by your side so you offered it up to him. He loosened the tie around his neck and undid the first two buttons of his dress shirt before accepting the silent offering. It took two long gulps before the glass was drained.

There was a heavy silence for longer than what was comfortable. Where could you even start? You didn’t want to catch yourself in an awkward fumble trying to gauge what it was he exactly needed from you as it was clear there was a purpose in him showing up without a warning. The set of his posture made it seem like he was curling in on himself more and more by the minute. He couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eye, fearful that it would be his complete undoing. This visible deflation in action made you feel panicked for not knowing what assistance you could offer without having him pull away.

“...D’ya wanna talk about it?”

Rust shook his head softly as if in a daze. His eyes growing glassy and increasingly distant while he stared at your porch’s floorboards.

At a loss, you cleared your throat shakily, “Well I was just about to hop in the shower. You can come inside…hang around if you want. We don’t have to talk or nothin’...o-or we can if that’s what you wanna end up doin’ after havin’ some quiet.”

No reply.

“Well, there’s beers and whatnot in the fridge if you choose. Don’t be shy to helpin’ yourself.” You got up and squeezed his hand gently, warm and calloused like you’d been dreaming about since they held you. That already felt like ages ago. He still made no move.

“I’m here.” Was all you could say and with that, you loosened your grip and headed on inside then upstairs to your bathroom. After setting out some comfy clothes and shedding out of the day’s stiff attire for all the press work that entailed you waited for the shower to reach its desired heat. The person looking back at you in your steadily fogging mirror was almost unrecognizable. Bruises from recent incidents had barely begun to make their way towards the fading process. Skin so sullen and hair even duller. When had you started to look so tired? This beaten down? You felt sorry for anyone who had the displeasure of viewing your walking corpse as of late.

The spray of the showerhead above you was nothing short of heavenly. Any pain and misery melted away to be forever cast down into the depths of the tub’s drain. Your bones felt like lead as you let yourself stand there, waiting to gain the sense of motivation to start washing yourself clean. It could’ve been ten minutes or even ten hours before the sound of the bathroom door clicking ajar had you opening your eyes. The silhouette of the cause of your heart’s aching and beating stood beyond the fogged glass as if at a loss of what to make himself do next. You said nothing, not wanting him to feel as if he was unwanted or on the other hand forced to join you. To expose himself beyond what a casual act of nudity could display already.

It was another elongated moment before you heard the clink of a belt and the rustle of clothes being discarded. You were so far gone that it hadn’t occurred to you he was about to see you at your most vulnerable. He’d witnessed you at some of your lowest, shittiest points but this was crossing into an entirely new territory.

And yet you didn’t feel as scared as you thought you would. You didn’t find Rust to be as judgemental about the physical as he was about the metaphysical.

The shower’s sliding door worked its way open and you didn’t turn around until a few moments after it had closed. The look on his face was similar to the one you’d been subjected to all those weeks ago after the bar. One of true fear. Fear of being seen at his very core. Open and raw. Fear that you’d take this all in and decide to turn him away in disgust or disinterest. Rust’s eyes didn’t wander down any further than your face. He wasn’t here out of primal desire. He needed something…someone…you to help him hold himself together for just this moment. Any and all strength he usually had keeping him upright had escaped him after the weight of everything finally penetrated his psyche.

You found your hand making its way up to his face, tracing dampening tendrils out of his line of sight before cupping his jaw. That empty blue fluttered closed, giving himself a moment or two before completely relinquishing himself to your gentle touch. Your other hand met the other side of his face before you leaned forward to touch your forehead to his. The downfall of water in the small cubicle drowned out any other possible thoughts or worries that could’ve been had in the current moment. There was nothing and no one else that mattered.

One kiss to his nose, then his chin, and finally his trembling lips had large palms come up to rest on the supple flesh of your hips, steadily gripping you as if you’d float away from him. You separated for a moment as his hands traveled up to clutch at your back. Before he could bring you closer you kissed him gently once more before succumbing to his grasp. Settling with leaving barely-there imprints of your mouth on the expansive skin of his chest and neck, your own hands brought themselves up to return his embrace. You felt the soft press of a peck linger on the side of your head as his grip grew a bit tighter. Seconds passed until the subtle shaking of broad shoulders had you clinging to him impossibly tighter. His sobs were not all that audible but the shuddering breaths he’d take in every now and then were more than enough to clue you in on just how much he was hurting. Tears began to burn behind your own eyes as your pain melded with his.

Here you were, just two broken people who gave up all notions of stoicism to completely and utterly crumble in front of each other. Fully at each other’s undeniable mercy.

- - - -

You didn’t know how much more time had passed after holding each other but as the water began to grow more frigid you made haste to help each other wash up. You both stepped out so you could wrap yourself in your own towel before making your way to your linen closet to fetch him one as well as to not have him left wet and cold for too long. With your mind a bit clearer from the emotional release experienced, you finally came to realize the presence of the exceptionally athletic physique in front of you. He seemed to be in the same state of appreciation towards you and you caught yourself feeling hot in the face as you clumsily thrust a towel in his direction.

“You don’t have to be shy in front of me.” His voice sounded raw from lack of use. The first words he’d uttered since he’d come here.

You tucked a wet piece of hair behind your ear, trying to casually meet his stare, “I know. Just didn’t expect us to end up here when you showed up is all. It’s just catchin’ up to me…” The pinch of your chin between long fingers drew you to kiss him again.

“You’re everythin'...and then some.”

You fought a self-deprecating scoff but he said it as if it were the most simplest fact in the world. You had no choice but to believe him.

“Let’s just find you some clothes. I am in dire need of one looong hibernation after everythin’. You too, mister.” You flicked his chest then slinked out of the bathroom. You finished any of the necessary preparations for bed by the time he had wandered into your room. The window you cracked open let in a gentle breeze while the warm glow of the few candles that had been lit danced in the haven you created. Whether you wanted a form of light for the sake of your own comfort or it being done out of some subconsciously innate need to keep Rust out of the dark for the night, you didn’t care to unpack.

Climbing into bed once and for all, you lay facing each other. Letting peace and stillness settle in.

“We did it y’know…it’s over. We can be okay.” You couldn’t help but say. Feeling the need to find something to reaffirm the so-called fact that should’ve been comforting at the end of all this. Anything to soothe underlying anxiety as the heavy shadow of the unknown and incomplete loomed over you. It should’ve been over but Ledoux was but a small piece to a hugely fragmented puzzle. Both of you knew it deep down but hadn’t the strength to confirm it out loud. Afraid to shatter this sense of temporary false security.

This was far from being done and dealt with. From being fully uncovered.

Rust didn’t say anything else as he pulled you into the warmth of his chest. Caging you in with no choice but to surrender to the silent feeling of safety he was trying to provide you. You could only pray that the two of you could make it through anything as you both found yourselves victims to the passing of time and any other trials it had ready for you.

Especially with whatever was waiting for you on the other side of Carcosa.

----

a/n: ahhhh! hurt/comfort is always a guilty pleasure. sorry for the immense dread at the end. i'm thinking of cooking up another fic that draws back to what exactly went down with our trio and ginger if that's something of interest to you all! thanks for reading!

#reds-writings #rust cohle #true detective season 1 #rust cohle imagine #rust cohle x reader #true detective imagine #matthew mcconaughey #true detective

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heliads · 5 months

Note

hi!! Can I request Harry Potter x f!reader, where Harry and y/n are dating and during the battle reader gets severely injured almost dead by Voldemort and Harry doesn’t know until after he defeats him he goes looking for reader but can’t find her, getting scared he goes looking for her and finds her under a pile of rubble realizing she’s about to die he uses the resurrection stone or wand to bring her back to life/heal her. Sorry if it’s really I’ve never requested before!

just read manacled so i'm desperately craving to write some hp angst so this request was perfectly timed thx anon xoxo

'someone take me home ' - harry potter

masterlist

The air is dark, choked with the ash and smoke of Harry Potter’s only true home.

Although he is not the one setting fire to the turrets, sending trolls in to demolish the stone parapets, or hurling curses through glass windows, Harry still feels responsible for the destruction. He is the one who challenged Voldemort by trying to hunt down his Horcruxes. He is the one who has brought this needless death and destruction into the castle. When Voldemort made his pronouncement that all of this fighting could cease if they would only turn Harry over to the Death Eaters, Harry had felt the weight of that guilt settle onto his shoulders like a cloak. It is his doing, all of this. He is the one to blame.

The only way he can make up for it is to end this, once and for all. If he does not kill Voldemort tonight– if he cannot end this war quickly– every life lost, every shred of memory and pride lost in the broken castle’s rubble will have fallen because he could not get the job done. Harry is responsible for everything that happens here tonight. He has to be responsible for winning it, too.

Harry is close to the end. So close. He has already died once tonight. He does not want it to happen again. For a moment there, when he went into the woods alone to meet his soon-to-be killer, armed only with a wand, a wish, and a deeply seated terror that would not leave him, Harry had not thought that he would come back. Dumbledore had not had the chance to specify that in his memories, that Harry would survive the Avada Kedavra curse for the second time in his life.

Harry had not known at all. Through Snape’s memories, he had seen that he would have to die for Voldemort to be killed, but there was no guarantee that Harry would come back. When Harry came away from the Pensieve burdened with that terrible truth, he had assumed that the blinding flash of green light would be all. When he said goodbye to Ron and Hermione, he had left them thinking that he would never return. Walking away from them was horrible, the price of seven years’ worth of incredible friendship. The only thing worse than that was leaving Y/N.

Y/N L/N. Harry’s girlfriend. They started dating during their fifth year, coasting on the thrill of sneaking around behind Umbridge’s back to run the DA. He’d liked her for longer, of course, he swears half the boys his year had a crush on Y/N at least since their second winter at Hogwarts, but Harry was the one who got to keep her around. He never forgot how lucky that made him. And, leaving her behind in the ruins of Hogwarts Castle to end his life, Harry reminded himself of it then, too. Even if he was going to die, he had lived a properly good life before the moment the Killing Curse was spoken aloud. He should have no reason to mourn all of the moments he would never have when he already experienced and enjoyed so many.

To distract himself in those cold, empty woods, Harry had reached into his pocket for the small, dark stone left to him by Dumbledore in the shell of a Golden Snitch. It’s probably not wise to carry a Deathly Hallow through the Forbidden Forest in search of a Dark Lord, but Harry was, after all, headed towards his certain death, so he figured that a little bit of risk was acceptable under those circumstances. Turning the Resurrection Stone over in his pocket, Harry had let his eyes flicker closed as he thought of something– as he wished for it, more than anything, more even than he needed to be alive– and then his eyes had opened, and he had seen his parents.

His first thought was that they looked just like their photographs. They smiled at him, reaching out wispy hands to guide him onwards. Remus and Sirius had joined not soon after. It was easier to be brave when he wasn’t alone, and it must have just been his mind imagining it, because he swore that just before he emerged into the clearing containing Voldemort’s camp, Harry saw Y/N there too, smiling and calling out to him.

He just wanted to think of her one last time, that was all. It meant nothing. Y/N was alive with Ron and Hermione. The one-hour truce had probably ended by then, so they would all be fighting again, but his two best friends would keep the love of his life alive. Of course they would. He made them promise.

Harry had removed that worry from his mind, and then he had died and subsequently come back to life. When he was lying on the cold ground, when Narcissa Malfoy had bent over him and asked him as quietly as she dared if her son was still alive, Harry has to admit that he was not thinking about the good of the mission to kill Voldemort, nor how he could keep up that crusade if he stayed alive. No, he thought about seeing Y/N one more time, and so he told her that Draco was still living. Harry didn’t even know if it was a lie or not, it didn’t matter, it worked. It could be true. Harry had no way of telling if Draco had passed away. All he could do was survive, clawing inch by inch until he could make it back to the grounds of the castle and tell for certain who was dead and who was alive.

The ruse, however misguided, had worked, and then Voldemort had crowed with sickly joy and dragged Harry’s body back to the castle. Harry was forced to remain stock-still, terrified to move so much as a muscle lest he give himself away and incur a second Killing Curse.

Now he is back, back here, back in the present moment, back in the castle. Harry is alive and everybody knows it. Harry heard the cheers erupt when he flung himself away from Hagrid to stand opposite Voldemort again, but he dared not look back. One distracted glance gives Tom Riddle a chance to kill him, and Harry cannot– he will not– give himself away like that after everything. His friends need him. Y/N needs him. Harry must do this, he must win.

Harry is no stranger to dueling, both with friends and enemies. When Voldemort points the Elder Wand at Harry, the wand that technically is under Harry’s control, Harry feels the moment thrumming in his veins like a bloodlust even before his opponent casts the spell. His wand hand rises of his own volition, the spell rising to his lips by reflex alone.

Two incantations are chanted at the same time. Avada Kedavra, Voldemort shrieks across the dusty courtyard, his voice like a death rattle. Expelliarmus, Harry shouts back, his heart leaping into his chest. He has never meant a spell like this before, and he swears he never will.

For a moment, all is still, all is quiet. The Death Eaters and students alike watch with bated breath as the two spells arc across the courtyard, but then Voldemort’s bright spark of green rebounds the second it comes into contact with Harry’s, sending both tumbling towards the Dark Lord. The Killing Curse hits Voldemort, and just like that, with no pomp and circumstance, no drama befitting the one who has caused them all so much violence and grief, Tom Marvolo Riddle dies.

Harry doesn’t believe it. Truly, he doesn’t, until he forces his limbs to walk over to the body of Voldemort and stand, staring, at the corpse until he is certain it does not move again. Slowly, surely, the Death Eaters peel away, and the students and members of the Order of the Phoenix come back again, surging around him like an ocean wave, rejoicing in their victory.

Ron and Hermione reach him first, one at each side. They embrace him, half crying, half beaming. Hermione’s saying that he’s done it, he’s won, and Ron is grinning at him proudly, telling Harry that he knew he could do it. Harry waits for the fourth person to join their party, but for some reason, she never does.

Harry pulls back slightly from their embrace. “Guys,” he says uncertainly, “Where’s Y/N?”

Ron and Hermione exchange confused looks. “She was just here,” Ron says vacantly. “Wasn’t she, Hermione? I swear I saw her a minute ago. We were fighting together, then a bunch of Death Eaters split us up. I got back to Hermione as soon as I could, but–”

“But you didn’t see her?” Harry interrupts. His voice sounds harsher than he intends, but a sudden, icy panic is beginning to flood through his system, and he cannot think about anything– he will not think about anything– until he is certain that this fear is unfounded.

He looks desperately at Hermione, the reasonable one, the one who always comes up with answers in times of crisis like this one, but she shakes her head quietly. “None of us have seen her since the fighting started up again,” she whispers. “I’m sorry, Harry.”

“No,” he says forcefully, “No, that’s not right. Y/N is alive. We just lost her in the crowd, that’s all.”

It must be true. Harry won’t look at either of them, won’t see the slow rush of guilt that’s creeping into both of their faces. Y/N has to be here. She wouldn’t just leave him like this.

Harry pushes past the two of them, fighting his way back through the crowds. He scans every face he sees, ignoring friends and professors the moment he’s sure they aren’t her. When he doesn’t see her immediately, Harry looks not at the crowds but the grounds, the walls, to see if she’s lying down somewhere. She could still be resting, or maybe she has a broken leg or something and can’t move. There is still a way that she could be alive. There is still a way that she could come back to him.

No sign of her. Harry is about to leave the courtyard and try searching somewhere else, and then he sees a hand crumpled near a pile of rubble. The hand, bloody and streaked with dust, is connected to an arm, an arm which lies limp from a shoulder, which leads to a chest which leads to a face, a face he knows, a face which is Y/N’s.

Harry is kneeling on the ground in a flash. The body of a fallen Death Eater is somewhere to the side, and Harry has the brief, proud thought that Y/N managed to kill one of them before she– He cuts himself off just in time.

Y/N seems perfectly fine by all accounts, were it not for the ash beginning to tint her face a lifeless shade. It gets everywhere, that stuff, but it won’t matter, they’ll have time to clean up later, once it is all over. It is all over, he realizes belatedly, but not quite yet. Not until she sits up again and smiles at him like she always does.

Harry waits for this to happen, for her chest to rise and fall, for any sign of movement. Nothing comes. It is only sitting here, waiting, watching for nothing, when he realizes at last that Y/N is dead. He missed his chance to save her. Y/N is dead because Harry couldn’t beat Voldemort fast enough.

The grief crashes over him in spasming attacks. He cannot lose her, not like this. It was easier to be the one dying when he knew she would go on to live a long, happy life, but this is wholly different and much worse. Y/N deserved far more than a death at seventeen. She deserved far more than Harry letting her down in this final way.

He can’t allow this to happen. Harry has killed the Dark Lord, he has freed the Wizarding World from death and destruction, he will save his girlfriend and it will be his last victory. Harry claws at his pocket for the Resurrection Stone– he almost lost it in the Forbidden Forest, but not quite, and now he has it still– and presses it with shaking hands against her heart. Harry closes his eyes and wishes with everything he has that she would come back.

He doesn’t want to open his eyelids. If it doesn’t work– he can’t look at her again, fallen and still. He stays in the darkness until someone tells him in a light voice, “You can look now, Harry. I’m alright.”

Harry opens his eyes and almost sobs again. There, sitting up, is Y/N. She smiles at him. “Don’t look so surprised. You know what the stone does, don’t you?”

“I do,” he croaks, “but– I was so afraid, Y/N. I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t have to,” she whispers back. “We’ll always be together now.”

He wants this. Harry reaches forward and embraces her. He can hardly feel her hug him back, but she’s probably still injured from the fight. She’ll have to get up to the hospital wing as soon as possible, Madam Pomfrey can make her as good as new in a second’s flash.

Harry steps back so Y/N can stand up, and then he starts to lead her back through the courtyard. Ron and Hermione have caught up to him by now, and they stare at Y/N with undisguised shock.

“She’s back,” Harry says exultantly, as if they couldn’t tell that already.

Hermione nods faintly. “Harry…”

Her voice trails off. Ron lays a comforting hand on her arm, then turns to Harry. “You found her, then?”

For some reason, he doesn’t seem nearly as happy as Harry thinks the situation deserves. He’s just found out one of his best friends is alive, after all, but instead he seems as if he’s just come from a funeral.

“I did,” Harry confirms. “I’m going to take Y/N to the hospital wing now, just in case.”

Y/N nods in agreement, which makes Ron and Hermione exchange knowing glances again.

“What?” Harry asks, somewhat cross.

“Nothing,” Hermione says a little too quickly. “It’s just– Oh, Harry, you have the Resurrection Stone, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Harry says. “Why do you ask?”

The look in her eyes is deeply sorrowful. “You have to let go, Harry.”

He shakes his head. “What are you talking about? I just got Y/N back, I have to make sure that she’s alright.”

He moves to brush past them, but Ron holds out an arm. “Here, I’ll take Y/N to the hospital wing. How about you stay and talk to Hermione for a little longer?”

Y/N looks unhappy about this, and although Harry doesn’t quite want to be parted from her yet, he can’t technically see any problems with this, so he agrees, and watches mournfully as Y/N trails away behind Ron. She’s moving slower than usual, but again, that must be due to injury.

Hermione takes him by the arm and steers him away from the quickly burgeoning crowds. “Harry,” she begins slowly, “Do you remember what Xenophilius Lovegood said about the Deathly Hallows, about the Stone in particular? How it drove the second brother mad because his bride came back from the dead, but she was never really the same?”

“I do,” Harry says vaguely, not entirely sure what this has to do with him, “But that’s not the case with Y/N, though, she’s fine. I reckon it’s because I have the Elder Wand too, you know?”

Hermione sighs. “Harry, that’s not the Y/N you lost. She’s different. I think she’s closer to a ghost than a person.”

“No,” Harry says unsteadily, “She’s just like I remember, honestly. I don’t know what you’re talking about. She’s nothing like a ghost.”

Hermione takes a slow breath in and out. She’s obviously fighting tears. “That’s because she hasn’t been herself lately, even before she– even before she died, Harry. The war has been hard on all of us, but her especially. It’s taken quite the toll on her, so much so that you would see a ghost of the girl you knew and still think it was her.”

“That makes no sense,” Harry protests, but a persistent feeling of doubt is starting to shadow his mind.

“I can prove it,” Hermione insists, and reaches into her pocket to pull out a photograph.

Harry holds it in his hands and stares. He remembers the moment this photo was taken more than he recognizes the actual people inside of it. This was one of the last days they had to themselves before the war broke out in earnest and everything went to hell. It had been in the spring, all four of them in the Gryffindor Common Room. Colin Creevey had taken the photo while they were unawares and to punish him, they’d confiscated it. Harry had no idea Hermione had held onto it, but now he’s pressingly grateful that she had.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione all look the same, albeit a little younger, a little less beaten down, but Y/N– the Y/N in this photograph is nothing like the girl he’d just seen. This Y/N is vibrant, laughing uproariously at a joke one of them has just told. The version of her in the photograph turns with a start when the photo is taken, but she’s still grinning up at him, still happy. Harry feels as if a saturation charm has been cast upon the photo, it’s the only thing that would explain why she looks so bright and alive here.

Alive, unlike how she looks right now, because she isn’t. Harry had tried to bring her back, but it hadn’t worked completely. Just like in Lovegood’s story. He thinks back to the past few months and he remembers how Y/N had been, how the light had slowly drained from her. The constant running had been hard on all of them, but it was worst of all on Y/N. She was the one forever thinking of new places to go, new things to try, wearing the locket for the longest, never putting up a fight. Slowly but surely, it had coaxed the life out of her, so much so that Harry couldn’t even tell when she was just a shade he had brought back from the dead.

Hermione nods slowly, seeing that Harry understands at last. “I’m sorry, Harry. I’m so sorry.”

“So am I,” he murmurs bleakly.

“Are you going to end the enchantment?” She asks him.

Harry feels like he’s drowning, engulfed in the ash and flame surrounding him. “I will. Just– let me say goodbye first.”

“Of course,” Hermione says. “We’ll be here when you need us.”

It’s more than he can ask of her right now, both to pull him out and to support him when he’s reeling from the shock of it all. They must be devastated too, Hermione and Ron, both of them have friends here who have died in this final battle and throughout the whole war, but they’re putting him first again. He’ll never be able to thank them enough for that, but he can try.

An idea occurs to him as he walks over to Y/N. He’s still got the Elder Wand in his pocket. He hadn’t needed it for the Resurrection Stone, he hadn’t even been touching it, but maybe– just maybe–

He casts a quick summoning charm to bring his invisibility cloak over, then pulls the Resurrection Stone out of his pocket. The Elder Wand in his other hand completes the triad. All three Deathly Hallows, all together at last. Dumbledore had wondered what having all of them together might do, how one might finally become a Master of Death. He had mused once that perhaps one had to accept the inevitability of one’s own death, to brush it off and greet Death as an old friend, as the third brother had done in the tale.

Harry has done this already. Died. He accepted it then. Facing Y/N, he accepts it now. He may die from doing this, but it would be alright. Y/N deserves to live. Harry embraces his fate, whatever it may be. He has the Hallows, but he would give them up for her, he would give up anything. Even himself. He has not meant a spell like this before, except once, and he swears he never will.

There’s a sudden rush of wind around him that forces Harry’s eyes shut, just for a moment. When he opens them, Y/N is still there, but she’s a shade no longer. This time, when she surges forward and hugs him, he feels the embrace completely.

“It’s really me,” she laughs, shocked, “I don’t know how you did it, Harry, but I’m really back.”

“You promise?” Harry gasps, half choking on his own surprise.

“I promise,” she smiles.

Harry glances back over his shoulder to where Hermione and Ron are watching with dropped jaws. One look at his friends is all he needs to know at last that yes, this is real. He’s finally won. The Dark Lord is dead. His love is alive.

At last, at long last, the last of his burdens disappear into the faint light of morning. Harry Potter is free.

harry potter tag list: @rogueanschel, @cameronsails, @neewtmas, @lovesanimals0000, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @eclliipsed, @frenchgirlinlondon, @23victoria, @ilovexavierthrope

all tags list: @wordsarelife

#harry potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter x reader #harry potter oneshot #harry james potter #harry james potter imagines #harry james potter x reader #harry james potter oneshot #hp #hp imagines #hp x reader #hp oneshot #harry potter fanfic #harry james potter fanfic

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eoieopda · 6 months

Text

problem | myg

pairing: min yoongi x darksided!reader summary: yoongi’s got a problem, and she’s dressed like elvira hancock. type: drabble, suggestive fluff (?) au: darksided; halloween; established relationship rating: 18+ (minors do not have my consent to interact) word count: 1k cw: yoongi’s on his tony montana, more money/more problem shit shit; afab!reader dressed as female character (elvira hancock); no smut but definitely suggestive thoughts/statements; kissin’, gropin’, nibblin’. a/n: happy halloween! i didn’t plan this, lmao. this is partly to commemorate the one-year anniversary of the darksided series. you don’t need to have read the series to read this drabble, but context is fun 😌

For the past eight years, Halloween has been spent on the couch, eating candy straight out of a party-sized bag and watching movies. A low-key holiday for low-key people, both of whom prefer going to bed at a reasonable hour over getting stupid into the wee hours of the morning.

It’s been your favorite holiday for the better part of a decade for that reason — the lack of pressure and commotion, as well as the guarantee of quality time spent in the comfort of sweatpants. It’s nice, doing fuck all with the person you love doing nothing and everything with. Nobody has ever caught you complaining; and they never will.

This year, to your shock and awe, Yoongi bucked your expectations for the millionth consecutive time. Not only did he RSVP “yes” to a Halloween party, he decided that you would both attend in costume.

Apparently, one of the multitudes he contains kind of likes the idea of coordinating outfits with you.

You damn near fell over when he brought his idea to you in the first place; but now that he’s kneeling in front of you, dressed in a white suit and a torturously unbuttoned red button-up, you’re struggling to stay upright for an entirely different reason.

“Left foot,” he murmurs, gesturing to one of the legs you have dangling off the edge of the bed.

You oblige, resting your bare foot on his thigh. Silently, you watch while he slips your heel onto your foot, lips pursed in concentration as he deals with the tiny buckle on the ankle strap.

It shouldn’t fuck you up to see his fingers moving deftly, doing something this mundane, but it does.

Makes you want to blow off this party and spend the night with those hands instead.

God.

Those hands.

Their gentle grip on your ankle, the glint of his rings in the lamplight, the slender length of —

“Jagiya.”

Yoongi is smiling slightly when his words nudge you back to reality with a jolt. If that smirk tells you anything, it’s that he’s called out to you at least once before. All you do is squeak in response; your brain is a bit too scrambled to think of better.

And he knows it, too.

Bastard.

Slowly, he shifts your heel off his thigh. To emphasize his instruction, he taps your right ankle lightly. “Right foot, jagi.”

You’re boneless but acquiesce, nonetheless.

Then, he has the audacity to say, “Good girl,” with his fingertips brushing softly over your bare skin, and you may as well black the fuck out. No part of the moments that follow registers in your mind; you may as well have lost it.

When Yoongi demands your attention the second time, he doesn’t bother with pet names. He leans slightly forward to where the high slit of your dress leaves a knee exposed, presses a kiss to the piece of you on display, and keeps his lips there just a fraction of a second longer than necessary.

“All set,” he says innocently, as if there’s anything angelic about the way he’s looking at you.

Dark eyes match the dark hair he’s pushed back off his forehead, and there’s a wickedness to them that you’ve never successfully ignored — not once in eight years.

“Ready to go?”

You make some unintelligible noise in response that you can’t parse yourself. Just like always, Yoongi manages to find the meaning you’re unable to locate; and he pushes himself to his feet. Two hands extend to help you do the same, and — just like always — you take them, no hesitation.

When you stand on unsteady legs, teal silk slips down the length of you and falls back into place with a flourish, fanning out at your ankles. Yoongi pauses, drinks in the sight of you like he’s drowning. He hums appreciatively to himself before reaching up to brush synthetic, blonde hair off your cheek.

“We’re running late,” he eventually notes.

Neither of you makes a single move towards the door. It’s only his arm that moves, hand dropping from your face to skim over the fabric covering your waist, hugging the curve of it. You shiver, although it doesn’t have a damn thing to do with the way your dress is cut.

“Michelle Pfeiffer’s got nothing on you.”

You swallow hard, going tense all over.

An hour passes in a second.

“Have I told you that I love this dress?”

You’re crawling out of your skin, vibrating on a frequency only Yoongi can hear. Fuck this dress, fuck this party, fuck me. Even though you don’t verbalize any of it, you know that he knows.

His eyes flick down your frame like he’s weighing what he wants against what he’s obligated to. Like he’s starving, and he’s searching for permission to sate his appetite.

There’s no weight to your voice when you say, “So, take it off,” but it hits him heavy. You feel the force of it when his hands grip your ass and pull you close. Chest to chest, it’s present in your heartbeat, too; thudding violently with anticipation.

He repeats himself, voice low, “We’re running late.”

But his actions tell you that he doesn’t give a shit about the clock. His mouth finds the skin beneath your jaw, and the heat of his breath warms your neck in the seconds before his lips do. At first, it’s just a kiss.

Then, it’s a whisper.

“Really late.”

Then, it’s the faint graze of his teeth when he nips at you, followed by the flick of his tongue, eager to soothe the sting.

“We can be later,” he muses on an exhale, as if either of you needs to be convinced. His grip on your ass tightens just enough to pull a whimper out of you. “What do you think, Elvira?”

Your brain has liquified with the rest of you, but you summon the strength to run your fingertips along the edges of his lapel. “Tony,” you start with a sigh.

“Hmm?” He hums, mouth too busy to form words.

You grip those lapels and push him slightly backwards, interrupting his ministrations in order to look him dead in the eyes. Loving the challenge, he smirks back at you with one eyebrow arched expectantly.

“One of us’ll die if you don’t kiss me for real, and it won’t necessarily be me.”

Just like always, Yoongi only needs to be told once.

likes are always appreciated, but it's feedback that means the most — whether that's in a comment below, PM, reblog, tags, etc. tysm for reading ✨

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#min yoongi #yoongi #yoongi drabble #yoongi x reader #myg #jade writes #re: darksided #kvanity

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humanitys-strongest-bamf · 5 months

Note

for the 2k event:

congrats on all the followers!!!!!

Levi and reader are childhood best friends to lover to eventually a married couple. Maybe following their journey through all the seasons and even in no regrets?

Congrats again!!

hello! :3 i'm not sure how to fit this into a drabble, so i did headcanons about how Levi would have reacted to you being pregnant or having a child during these various points in time!

Dadvi Canonverse Headcanons | 2K Follower Event

ACWNR:

➼ Once it turns out that you're pregnant with his child, Levi hauls ass to get the two of you out of the Underground. He picks up shady jobs for the extra money (assassin!levi au anyone?) in the hopes that he can make enough to get you surface residency as soon as possible. ➼ With how uncleanly the Underground was, Levi would be very wary of where you were going. While he was never a fan of dirt and grime and it bugs him to no end to have it around, he was much more concerned about you potentially getting sick and putting further strain on your body that was already hosting a baby. ➼ With him picking up shadier jobs, things got more chaotic and he became more and more worried that he'd take a job he couldn't come back from. As a result, he'd spend every night with you in his arms, his hand over your belly, with him chatting to your unborn child, wanting to savor every moment that he could steal with you. ➼ If he was unfortunate and couldn't make enough money, he'd begin to have to plan on how to raise your kid in a hostile environment in a way that best avoided the type of childhood that the two of you had. ➼ Your pregnancy is one of the reasons why he jumped up so quickly at the opportunity to earn surface residency when he's recruited to assassinate Erwin. He knew he didn't have much of a choice when it came to taking the job, but having you and your unborn child as an extra incentive made him that much more motivated.

Season 1:

➼ Especially with how dangerous expeditions were, he would always go out of his way to visit you and your child regularly after expeditions. He'd be home whenever he could be, just because tomorrow was never guaranteed. ➼ If you're a Scout, he'll try to work with you to get you put on duties that you'd be able to do while pregnant that wouldn't put you or the unborn baby in too much danger. Unfortunately, that meant you weren't going outside the Walls with him anymore. ➼ When he hears that the Wall had been breached, he internally panics. He had promised to keep you in the Walls to keep you safe, yet even the safety of the Walls was compromised. The first thing he does after clearing out the Titans in Trost was to search for you and your child. ➼ Levi's a complete mess when he comes home to you after the Female Titan incident. His entire squad and a significant amount of the Scouts had died on this mission. Being around you and being able to hear you and your child's voice made it just a tad bit more bearable. You were the safe space that he needed to be able to process everything that had happened.

Season 2:

➼ As if to make up for lost time, Levi was able to spend much more time with you because of his leg injury. He hated not being able to do anything to help out with the Survey Corps, but he was also glad to be able to spend time with you and your kid without having to feel pressed for time. ➼ This shouldn't be a surprise to anyone, but Levi's the perfect house husband. He's great in caring for you while you were pregnant, especially since he had to be home due to his injury anyway. He's even better with caring for your newborn baby so you could occasionally rest. ➼ When he heard about the Wall getting breached again, he seriously began considering if he could fenagle a way to move you to the Interior. Of course, the idea of hiding didn't sit right with you, but you bet he's annoyed as fuck when you provided resistance. All he wanted to do was to keep you and your child safe, and things looked like they were falling apart left and right.

Season 3:

➼ Levi is writing you letters the entire time when he's on the run from the Interior Police. He couldn't visit you, and even sending you letters was risky. If you were pregnant, he would make sure that there was someone to help you out so you weren't just suddenly left on your own. ➼ Once Historia is crowned as Queen and he's able to return, he immediately goes back home to you, spending much time needed with you and your child since he's been gone for a while. If you were pregnant when he left and gave birth while he was gone, he'd be super harsh on himself about it even though there wasn't anything he could've done with the way that events played out. He'd overcompensate with the acts of service to try to make up for what he missed. ➼ He immediately falls into your arms after he returns from Shiganshina. If your kid was there to see him, he'd pull them in too. He didn't bother hiding it because you both believed in being honest with your kids about emotions and vulnerability. ➼ Once the Titans have been cleared, he takes you and your kid outside the Walls to visit the beach, trying to answer questions as best as he could as your child bombarded him with questions about humanity existing outside the Walls.

Season 4:

➼ After his initial trip to Liberio, he'd take you and your kid to visit, just to explore the wonders of civilization outside the Walls. It was nice to come here as an actual vacation instead of under the pretense of war. ➼ It absolutely breaks his heart when he sees the pained look in your eyes after he tells you that he was to leave you for a while to go into the forest to watch over Zeke. This was the last time you saw him until after the war was over. ➼ Since you're separated, he starts writing you letters again, sometimes sending back a flower or piece of nature that reminded him of you. He took immense comfort in the letters that you'd write back, bringing that subtle hint of your scent. He could almost hear you say the words and it helps him throughout his long days waiting for news that would never come. ➼ When the letters suddenly stop, and the Rumbling began shortly after, you began to panic. If it wasn't for your kid, you'd drop everything to find him, especially with the assumption that he must have died if Zeke was able to escape. ➼ When you see him again at the end of the War, you were both horrified and relieved. You were relieved because he was alive after everyone kept telling you that he was dead, but also horrified when you saw everything that he had gone through.

Post-War:

➼ If you get pregnant post-war, Levi does everything he can to find a good place to live with easy access to care to make sure everything goes smoothly. ➼ He's a little frustrated with himself at first, since he can't help you with the baby or kid in the same capacity that he would have been able to prior to his injuries, but the two of you adjust, and he figures out alternative ways to help. (brb currently crying over imagining Levi bottle feeding your baby from his wheelchair) ➼ Levi really likes going around town with you pushing him in his wheelchair as he's holding onto your toddler. It was good quality time, chatting with you as you walked him, and playing with your toddler that was essentially the split image of him. ➼ You bet that your child is absolutely fascinated with Levi's scars and is constantly asking for stories about the war. Levi was like a hero to them and they were completely enthralled by the fact that he was such an important participant in the war. ➼ He'd occasionally take you and your kid to Paradis Island just to visit and maybe show your kid memorable areas, like where the two of you got married or ran into each other for the first time.

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi heichou x reader #captain levi x reader #follower event #levi fluff #levi #levi ackerman #levi heichou #captain levi #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin #snk

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imaginesfordifferentfandoms · 1 year

Text

willow

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Prompt - ‘Now this is an open-shut case I guess I should've known from the look on your face.’

Whenever Buck was around things were just easier. He made everything around him lighter, always there with a warm smile and would do anything for anyone. It hadn’t taken long for the two of you to become friends, to be inseparably joined at the hip. It wasn’t just that you worked well together, able to read each other without needing words, you were close once the shift ended, whereas most people who spent as much time as you did with your colleagues would part ways, you and Buck left together and spent hours at each other's side.

You knew that your feelings for Buck went deeper than just friendship, it was obvious to anybody looking at the pair of you that you were half way in love with the man. It was also painfully obvious that Buck was right there with you but you couldn’t see it, not even when the others told you about the way Buck looked at you, not even when they insisted that the two of you would be perfect together.

When you looked at Buck you couldn't see how he felt, sure he was all soft smiles and gentle touches but he was the same with all his friends. You couldn’t guess from the look on his face that he could want more than what you had.

You often found yourself getting lost around Buck, gazing at him whilst he spoke as you tried to see what the others claimed was obvious but you never could. Occasionally you thought something could have been there, some longing glance or adoring look but you always shook your head, convincing yourself that you were just seeing what you wanted to see.

You were content with what you had though, you had to be otherwise it would drive you crazy, you had to be because if you weren’t it meant you’d mess up what you already had with Buck and you couldn’t do that. You’d rather silently pine whilst dreaming about what it would be like to love Buck and be loved back than not have him around at all.

It drove the others crazy that neither of you could see what could be, how easy it would be for the two of you to have one little conversation that would lead to so much happiness. They'd watched you and Buck from day one, seen the way your eyes were immediately drawn to him as Bobby introduced you to the team, saw the way Buck jumped at every opportunity to show you around and helped you with the copious amounts of chores given to you as a probie.

The two of you were perfect for each other, you could go from bantering and teasing into deep and meaning conversations, you were capable of getting Buck to let down his walls, him telling you things he had never shared with anyone before, likewise Buck was probably the person on the planet who knew you best. Whilst it was tempting to shake the two of you by the shoulders until you saw sense or lock you in a room until things were resolved everybody knew that you and Buck had to do this alone, with or without their intervention it was pretty much guaranteed that you two would get together.

It wasn’t just in the way you and Buck could flip between serious and playful when the situation called for it. It was the way you would take one look at Buck, needing only a second to scan his features, before you disobeyed Bobby’s direct orders and followed Buck into a burning building, trusting his judgement and following where he went without a second thought, knowing you’d follow him wherever he went for as long as he’d have you whether it was into his car on the way home or into the flames. It was the way he wrapped his arm around you so casually drawing you closer to him, the way his hand squeezed yours so softly in the truck whenever he could see a call had affected you. It was the way you sat on the counter as you watched him dance around as he spent hours cooking a meal just for the two of you. It was the little moments that would be so meaningless to others that you held close, that made you fall further and further for Buck.

There were so many times you’d just wanted to beg him to show you he felt the same, beg him to take your hand and never let go. You were content with what you had but you could selfishly want more too.

Despite the fact that both of you wanted so badly, nothing happened between the two of you for years, long painful years filled with the most beautiful memories. By this point you knew it was love, there wasn’t another word for the rush of emotions you still felt whenever Buck smiled at you, whenever you watched him scoop Christopher up to greet him, when you watched him punch at the bags in the gym, when he held you in his arms, it was love.

The others liked to joke that it would take a miracle for you and Buck to finally see that you had practically been dating for all this time. It seemed the universe agreed with the sentiment of wanting you and Buck together but instead of a miracle it gave you a tragedy instead.

It was a call that sounded bad from the get-go and by the time you rolled up to the scene the fire was out of control, already engulfing the two buildings to the side of it. If it was bad outside it was even worse inside. Obviously you were used to feeling the heat of the flames way too close for comfort, it was the job after all, but something about this one felt different, the flames engulfed everything around them, the ceiling was collapsing in on each floor, cutting off exits. Smoke was thick in the air as you made your way through the building, Buck ahead of you as he cleared the way before helping you through.

In the distance a floor or two up you could hear a child crying hysterically, choking on tears and smoke but at least they were still breathing. You and Buck didn’t know how much time you had but it wasn’t long so the two of you tried to work your way upwards, the stairs not an option anymore. You made it up one floor, the sweat pouring off both of you when the radios cracked to life.

“118, evacuate the building.” Bobby’s voice called through and Buck’s head whipped around to look at you, his eyes shifting from yours to the ceiling, the child’s cries closer now. “I repeat evacuate the building, it’s been declared too unstable, it’s going to crumble any moment.”

You and Buck stayed silent, gazes locked on each other for a few seconds as the rest of the team confirmed they were moving out.

“Buck, Y/N, come in.” Bobby called and Buck shook his head.

“What do you want to do?” You asked him, knowing already what his answer would be. Neither of you would be able to leave without at least trying.

“I’m not leaving.” Buck told you and you nodded that was all you needed and you gestured for him to carry on. “Y/N/N, you gotta leave.”

“Not happening, Buck. Hurry, we don't have long.” You told him, seeing the wide eyed soft look he was giving you behind his helmet and any other time you’d be lost in that expression, thinking it over and over but right now wasn’t the time.

“Take my hand.” Buck said as he struggled over the rubble, holding a hand out to help you and you slid your hand into his palm, even with the heavy uniform you couldn’t help but savour the moment.

Bobby’s voice called through the radio again and as you and Buck headed towards the crying child you listened to Buck arguing with him, refusing to leave before turning the radio off completely.

“If we get out of here alive Bobby’s gonna kill you for that.” You told him and couldn't help the pull of your lips as he laughed before pulling himself up another floor, using the rubble to help him.

“Yeah probably but what else is new?” He grinned, holding his hand out again for you and you let him help you pull you up.

The whole building seemed to shake and Buck grabbed onto your arms, pulling you closer as you waited for something to happen, neither of you breathing until a few seconds passed and the building just about stayed standing.

The sound of the child’s screeching cries snapped you back into action, both of your heads turning right in the direction before Buck let go of you with a nod. You nodded back and followed after him with careful steps, keeping your eyes on Buck and desperately trying to focus on him and not the building that was minutes away from collapsing.

“I got her!” Buck called as he climbed through the rubble and picked the child up, she couldn’t have been more than four, her face red and tear stained as more flooded down her cheeks. “C’mere kid, I gotcha.”

Buck picked the girl up and she went willingly, clinging to Buck’s neck as he walked back over to the pile of rubble blocking the room.

“Hey, I’m gonna pass you to my friend, is that alright? She’s real nice and she’ll take care of you.” Buck murmured to the girl and you couldn’t help but smile as he pried her fingers off him and gently passed her through the gap he had made. “That’s it, you got her.”

Just as you took the girl from him the building gave another violent shake that had you and Buck freezing again, the girl letting out a cry as she buried her head against your coat. This shake was worse than the one earlier and lasted longer and you felt sick to your stomach as you kept your eyes on Buck. Buck went to say something, you could see his mouth opening before he frowned and looked up just as the building shook again and before you could even register what was happening Buck had disappeared from view and where he had stood was now filled with rubble.

You were frozen to the spot for a few seconds before you let out a shuddering breath, head shaking as tears filled your eyes.

“Buck!” You yelled, knowing it was wrong but you placed the girl against the opposite wall and began trying to dig your way through the rubble, desperately calling Buck’s name as you struggled against the heavy pieces of ceiling.

“Buck please, come on!” You sobbed before snatching your radio from your coat and calling for Bobby.

“Y/N, what happened? The two of you need to get out of there now!” Bobby ordered but you shook your head, tears falling down your cheeks as you struggled to breath. “Y/N!”

“Bobby,” You choked out, “Bobby I’ve got a kid here but I can’t, I can’t leave him, Bobby, please.”

You would be surprised if Bobby could make out your words, your breath coming out in quick panicked gasps and you were choking on tears as you let the radio go to keep trying to dig through the rubble, making no progress, every time you moved one piece three more seemed to fill its place.

The radio was silent for a few moments before Bobby’s voice came through again.

“Stay where you are, I'm coming in.” Bobby told you and before the radio cut off you could hear somebody protesting but you didn’t care. Bobby would come in and get the girl and you knew you weren’t leaving without Buck.

The flames were closing in and you knew you didn’t have long left. From below you could hear footsteps and you looked towards the room Buck was trapped in and the flames quickly creeping towards the opening you’d used to get onto this floor.

You picked the girl up again and ran over to the opening, already seeing Bobby, Chimney and Eddie coming towards you, putting out as many of the flames as they could. You were already lowering the girl down and Chimney was quick to grab her but you didn’t stick around after that, you were instantly back at the pile of rubble, gloved hands desperately trying to free Buck.

“Buck, Buck please, please I need you. I can’t lose you, not you.” You sobbed out, pleading with anyone who would listen to just let Buck be ok. There was so much left unsaid between the two of you and you promised yourself you’d tell him everything, you’d tell him you loved him, tell him you didn’t ever want to picture your life without him at your side, you tell him everything if you got the chance to.

You hadn’t even heard Bobby and Eddie join you until you saw their hands dragging rubble away too. The building gave another shake but this time you didn’t freeze, you kept digging, kept pleading, kept sobbing. You needed to get Buck out.

Finally, finally, you managed to get into the room. The ceiling had caved in, crashing down into the room and bringing furniture from upstairs through with it. It was bad but thankfully not bad enough that you couldn’t move around the room. Your eyes found Buck immediately, trapped underneath a piece of rubble, a cut on his head was bleeding and his eyes were closed.

Between the three of you, you managed to free Buck from the rubble, you couldn’t see if he was more injured than just the head wound with the coat covering him but you prayed that he was fine, he had to be because you didn’t know what you’d do if he wasn’t.

The building was shaking now, the foundation ready to crumble and Bobby and Eddie wasted no time in lifting Buck between them and quickly but carefully carried him from the building. Just as Buck was being loaded into the ambulance you heard a rumble and glanced behind you just in time to see the building cave in on itself, the two next to it following in suit.

You didn’t care though, just climbed into the ambulance next to Buck and sat still as you watched the paramedics assess him. Silent tears made their way down your face but you couldn’t stop the choked sob that escaped you when they took his coat off and saw a blood soaked shirt underneath.

The paramedic cut the shirt off to reveal a wound that was still bleeding, the blood seemingly just pouring out. It looked like a piece of the rubble or something else that had fallen through when the ceiling had managed to practically slice him deeply from his stomach across to just above his hip.

“Is he gonna be ok?” You asked and the paramedic shot you a look before getting to work on cleaning and trying to stop the bleeding.

It was still bleeding when you got to the hospital.

They rushed him into surgery as soon as he was out of the ambulance and you followed him into the hospital, told to wait in the waiting room. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do so you did nothing, you stood where they had left you, people moving around you like you were nothing more than a ghost, only able to stand and stare at the doors Buck had been taken behind.

You had no idea how long you stood there, still as a statue with tears falling down your face, but eventually there was a hand on your shoulder. You still didn’t move but you at least registered when Bobby moved to stand in front of you, his own eyes teary but ever the leader he didn’t let them fall, not whilst his team needed him.

“Come on, there’s a room for us to wait in.” Bobby told you softly but you barely heard the words, they sounded like you were underwater, drowning in fear and panic and you could do nothing but wait and see if you’d sink or swim.

Bobby gently took your hand in his and you let him lead you through the halls of the hospital, paying no attention to your surroundings. The rest of the team were already in the room, looking up when you entered but you barely even saw them. Bobby just shook his head and led you to one of the seats, softly pushing you into it before taking the seat next to you.

You didn’t know how long you had sat there, staring ahead but not seeing anything, your thoughts racing, picturing a million and one different scenarios. There were so many things you wanted to say, needed to say. If something happened to Buck, if the worst case scenario happened and he didn’t know you loved him, it would haunt you for the rest of your life.

Bobby’s hand periodically squeezing yours in a gentle but firm grip was the only thing keeping you grounded to reality. Hours passed by without you noticing, no doctors had entered the private waiting room the team had been given. No news was good news though you supposed, it at least meant that Buck was still alive and that was all you could ask for right now.

Eventually though somebody did interrupt the silence, a tired looking doctor entered the room and everyone was immediately on their feet, not daring to breathe as they waited to hear the verdict.

“Mr Buckley made it through the surgery successfully,” the doctor told you all and there was a collective sigh of relief throughout the room, your hand squeezing Bobby’s tightly. “We were able to stop the bleeding and stitch up the wound on his stomach.”

“So he’s going to be ok?” Eddie asked and you felt your heart stop as the doctor was silent for a beat too long. “He’s gonna be ok, right?”

“The wound on the stomach won’t be an issue. It’s the head wound we’re worried about. After taking scans we can see swelling but won’t be able to determine how serious it is until Mr Buckley wakes up.” The doctor said and you felt a fresh wave of tears fill your eyes.

“And when will he wake up?” Bobby asked, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye before focusing on the man.

“I can’t say for sure, it could be a matter of hours or it could be days.” The doctor informed you honestly and you took a shaky breath, speaking for the first time in hours.

“Can we see him?” You asked, voice cracking on the words and you felt Bobby’s thumb brush along your skin comfortingly.

“I’m afraid only one of you will be allowed in the room with him and visiting hours will be over in an hour.” The doctor said before giving the group directions to Buck’s room and excusing himself.

“Go on then, Y/N/N.” Eddie said, causing you to look over at him with a frown but before you could say anything he spoke again. “He’d want it to be you.”

You were silent for a few moments, looking around at the rest of the team who smiled and nodded at you and you suddenly felt a huge burst of love for these people who had become your family. When you turned to Bobby he smiled softly down at you before giving your hand one last squeeze and letting go.

“Thank you.” You managed to choke out before leaving the room and following the doctor's directions.

You had to pause outside of his room before you could enter, looking in through the window at Buck in the bed. He looked peaceful, he didn't look like he was in pain, paler than he should have been and a line of stitches trailing up into his hairline from his forehead.

You took another shaky breath before forcing your feet forward and into the room, sitting down on the edge of the only chair placed next to the bed and taking Buck’s hand in yours carefully.

“I don’t know if you can even hear me,” You said after a long beat of silence where you could only run your eyes across his features. “But if you can, I really need you to wake up, Buck, because I can’t lose you. You’re the best thing in my life and the thought of you not being here with me-”

You cut yourself of with a choked sob, leaning forward until your forehead rested against your joined hands. For so long it had been you and Buck, inseparable, the closest of friends, never seeing one without the other. Of course in your line of work it was always a possibility that something would happen but you tried to ignore it, until moments like this, until you couldn’t anymore. You knew full well you were all in with Buck, in it until the end, just like how you knew that if you hadn’t been able to get him out of that building before then you wouldn’t have left either.

“You have to come back to me because there’s so much I need to tell you, so much I should have already said but I couldn’t but we don’t know what’s gonna happen and we should take every chance we can to be happy, right? And it’s you Buck, it’s always been you who makes me happy. It’s always been you.” You told him, knowing he couldn’t hear you but still it felt good to say it out loud. “Because I love you, Buck. I knew from the moment I met you that one day it would be love.”

You didn’t say more than that, you couldn’t bring yourself to speak through the tears and quiet sobs. Time seemed to pass too quickly because before you knew it a nurse was knocking on the door, giving you a sympathetic smile as she told you visiting hours were over.

You nodded at her and stood up, wiping at your cheeks and ignoring the way more tears replaced them and instead leaned down to place a kiss to Buck’s cheek, letting yourself linger there for a few seconds before pulling away with a whispered goodbye. Once you left the room you only managed to get to the end of the hallway before your knees gave out and sobs wracked your body.

You never hit the floor though, strong arms wrapped around you and pulled you into a chest, fingers carding through your hair. You couldn’t make out what the voice was saying but you could feel the rumbles. You couldn’t see through the tears but that didn't matter, the arms felt safe and your hand came up to clutch at a shirt.

You didn’t remember moving but you felt yourself being sat down on a chair and brought deeper into a pair of arms. You couldn’t say how long you sat like that for before the sobs turned into shuddering breaths and the world started to come back to you.

“There you go, that’s it, just breathe.” The voice was saying and you pushed away from the chest when you recognised it as Bobby’s voice. “You’re ok, take it easy.”

“What are you still doing here?” You managed to choke out, voice hoarse from how much crying you’d done today.

“I wasn’t going to leave you alone. I already called Athena and told her I’d be staying with you tonight, you wouldn’t mind the company would you?” Bobby asked and again you felt so much love fill you because you had no doubt that if it wasn’t Bobby insisting on being her for you it would be one of the others.

“Thank you.” You told him sincerely, nodding your head whilst desperately trying to choke back more tears. “Seriously Bobby, thank you.”

“It’s what families are for.” Bobby shrugged like it was no big deal but both of you knew how meaningful it was, this team who had become a family, who loved each other so deeply meant everything.

Since you’d rode in the ambulance and Bobby had followed behind in the truck, Bobby ordered the two of you an Uber, waiting outside in the cool air for it to arrive. It wasn’t long before you were home, taking a shower because the smell of smoke and fire clung to your skin.

It felt wrong to be here when Buck was still at the hospital, he should be here with you, but there was nothing more you could do tonight. Tomorrow you’d be back at his side bright and early until you were forced to leave again but for right now you let Bobby gently push you onto the couch and press a warm mug into your hands.

It went on like that for days, you were at the hospital every day and Bobby sorted the time off for you back at the station. You didn’t think you could pull yourself back to work if you tried, the thought of doing the job without Buck at your side was unthinkable.

Bobby had taken to picking you up every night from the hospital, it was an unspoken arrangement, you just left Buck’s room and the man was always there waiting for you. Each night he took you to his and Athena’s, who welcomed you with open arms and a warm meal that they both made sure you ate, knowing full well you weren't eating at the hospital.

It was on the fifth day that things changed, two days after hearing doctors murmur about their concerns of Buck not waking up yet, five days of sitting at Buck’s side for hours on end, talking away about anything and everything just to fill the silence.

On the fifth day you entered Buck’s room the minute the hospital allowed visitors and took up your regular seat, taking his hand in yours before placing a soft kiss to the back of his. It was how you started every morning visit. The first few hours nothing happened and then just after twelve you heard a groan fall from Buck’s lips, your head snapping up at the noise.

You stared at Buck, wide eyed and not daring to blink as if it would ruin any chance of him waking up. It took a while but you watched as Buck’s face scrunched up before he swallowed heavily, tilting his head to the side and shifting to get comfortable before he finally managed to force his eyes open.

When he saw you you were already crying, silent tears trailing down your cheeks as you smiled at him in relief.

“What happened?” Buck managed to slur out before he started coughing with how dry his throat felt and you wasted no time pouring water into a cup and holding it to Buck’s lips. “Are you ok?”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at the question, here Buck was finally waking up after five days of recovering, stitches on his head and stomach after being crushed by rubble and he was asking if you were ok.

God, you loved him.

“Are you ok?” You asked instead, watching as his lips twitched upwards. “Are you in pain? Should I get a doctor? I should definitely get a doctor.”

You went to stand but Buck stopped you, tightening his grip on your hand and keeping you in place. You turned back to face him and that’s when you saw it. It was the look, the one the others kept telling you about, the one with soft eyes filled with love and adoration, the one with a smile that to most people wouldn’t seem particularly special but if you knew what you were looking for you could see it was so important. It was the look and you were finally seeing it, you couldn’t convince yourself you were looking into it too much, couldn’t convince yourself your mind was playing tricks on you because it was right in front of you and it was beautiful.

“Don’t go.” Buck murmured, his voice hoarse and not able to go above a whisper but you heard the plea clearly anyway. “Just…just stay with me.”

“Nowhere else I’d rather be.” You told him honestly, squeezing his hand and not able to look away from his face.

Eventually you were able to snap yourself out of trance you regularly seemed to get lost in around Buck, long enough so that you could fill him in on what had happened and how long he’d be out of it. As you spoke Buck never lost that soft look, never once let his eyes wander away from you and it took all your strength to bite your tongue and not tell Buck how you felt.

Until you realised that you didn’t have to do that anymore. You had promised yourself you’d tell Buck and maybe half an hour after he’d woken up from a five day slumber wasn’t the best time but suddenly you felt the overwhelming urge to do it, feeling like you couldn’t wait another day.

“What’s wrong?” Buck asked, his attention solely on you so he noticed the shift in your features, the slight crease in between your eyebrows, the way your head tilted as you looked at him but your mind was clearly somewhere else.

“I thought you were gonna die.” You forced out around the sudden lump in your throat, frown deepening because those weren’t the words you meant to say. “I thought you were gonna die and I was so scared. Once that rubble came down so did so many regrets, so many things I wanted to tell you but I was too scared to but then you were gone and I needed you to know them because you couldn’t die without knowing.”

“Knowing what?” Buck asked softly, already guessing where this was going, already feeling warmth spreading through his chest at the chance that you felt the same way he had, that he hadn’t been pining alone.

“Without knowing that seeing you is the highlight of my day, without knowing that any day I let pass without talking to you, it just isn’t a good day. Without knowing how deeply I care about you, without knowing that I trust you more than anyone, that I’d follow you wherever you went. You were lying here and I didn’t know if you were going to wake up and the one thing above everything that I needed you to know is that I am so in love with you.” You told him, not taking your eyes off him and watching his face soften even more if it were possible, watching as his eyes watered slightly but he managed to keep any tears from falling.

“Y/N,” he breathed out, unable to say anything for a moment but you weren’t worried, you didn’t take it as a bad sign, you couldn’t, not now that you’d seen that look.

You had to curse yourself slightly because how had you missed that look, it had been years of Buck looking at you like that and you’d missed it. If you had seen that look so long ago any questions regarding Buck’s feelings for you would have been an open-shut case, you would have known from the look on his face that he wanted you as much as you wanted him.

“I’ve wanted to hear that for so long, wanted to tell you that for so long because it’s true, I love you more than I thought I could love anyone. For so long I didn’t think I was capable of loving somebody like I love you, I thought I was too messed up from everything. But then I met you and, Y/N/N I knew from the moment I met you that you were going to be so important. I should have told you years ago but I couldn’t see how somebody like you could feel the same way. But I love you, Y/N, I love you so, so much.” Buck told you, the two of you smiling at each other with matching grins, so happy it was almost too much but you both basked in the feeling.

And everyone was right, nothing changed when the two of you started dating. You came into work together and left together, you stayed over at each other's places until you had found yourself all but moved into Buck’s place already and it just became second nature to call his place home. The only difference was now there were no secret feelings, no wishful, longing glances. Now you could say that’s my man and Buck could take your hand in his, now you kissed Buck whenever you wanted just because you could and neither of you took a day together for granted, not when you had spent so many years pining where you could have been together so now you made sure to savour each day.

Evan ‘Buck’ Buckley Taglist (Click the link in my bio to add yourself!)

@navs-bhat, @nashja, @valluvsu, @alexxavicry, @deathjawd, @lastwandastan, @darling-seraphina, @dizzytearss, @pretty-npeach, @kpopperbree123, @irishavengersassemble, @hoplessromantic17, @kitten-xoxxo

Thank you so much for reading!🤎

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icarustypicalfall · 5 months

Text

Reminiscence

König x reader

masterlist

summary: How is it that a fleeting moment, a mere jiffy between reality and fantasy, can grasp our souls and leave us yearning or empathizing for the rest of our limited existence?

warnings: sfw, usual cod violence, wounds, guns, angst?, comfort, ending...?

word count: 2,3k

notes: my autocorrecter turned every könig with the usual o so if you see one pretend you didn't.. also this fic is so random and i have no clue what happened

“my peace has always depended on all the ashes in my wake”

Colonel König was a man who took pride in everything he did. He lived a long life, serving alongside his brother Horangi in both successful and challenging missions. Little was known about his past, as he guarded it as if it were a sin. However, deep down, one could sense that the colonel carried a burden, a mysterious weight from the past that only he could comprehend.

Once again, he awoke in his office, drenched in cold sweat with a single tear streaming down his face, evidence of the nightmare that had just haunted his brief slumber. He longed to forget, to erase the memories that had plagued him for years. But no matter how much time passed, moving on seemed an impossible task.

König vividly recalled the scene, replaying it countless times in his mind. There were moments when he secretly desired to descend into madness and never wake up, to relive the painful dream over and over until the colours of his memory faded.

His ultimate fear was not death itself, for he had already died when he left, but rather the possibility of forgetting the sound of your beloved voice or the sensation of tender flesh.

December 12 #### [03:24 am]

Location: [classified]

Operation: [classified]

The pain was unbearable, and he desperately wished for anything to end it, even if it meant shutting his shallow breath forever.

As a child, König dreamt of becoming a sniper. He couldn't explain why, but he yearned for that role deeply, idolizing the revered warriors portrayed in the movies he watched every Friday night.

But as he grew older, his dream transformed into a painful reality. He never anticipated that this simple wish would leave him isolated in the wilderness, with no one to share his throe.

At the age of twenty-two, freshly graduated from military training with the rank of private, König quickly ascended the ranks. His towering physique and exceptional abilities certainly played a part, but it was his unwavering discipline and outstanding performance that truly caught the attention of his superiors. He obediently followed every order, earning the respect of sergeants and majors alike.

Yet König did not mind this, for he harboured the aspiration of becoming a leader one day. Perhaps then, his childhood dream would manifest into reality.

He found himself in this particular location, alongside fellow soldiers, embarking on a mission to test their abilities. It was meant to be a swift operation, in and out, dealing with a drug trafficking affair. At least, that's what he believed.

But reality proved to be harsh, mercilessly slapping him across the face. The frontline was a treacherous arena; once you stepped onto it, there was no guarantee of stepping back.

Every soldier eventually came to realize this as they reloaded their guns, with each bullet either ending a life or starting one. It was a painful cycle, where lives were lost and shattered, yet there seemed to be no alternative for humanity to coexist other than beheading their enemies.

König groaned, searching for his comrades who awaited a sign amidst the unforgiving terrain. The house they were about to breach stood eerily silent, a stark contrast to the constant movement of the criminals they pursued. Suddenly, something rolled out from the darkness, making it impossible to discern its nature.

The silence was shattered by screams and cries of terror.

The gas bomb had served as a distraction. König crawled, feeling the burning air and painful lacerations surrounding him. Though he was away from the epicentre, the effects were still noticeable. Slowly, he eliminated the immediate threat and proceeded to infiltrate the house in search of any remaining criminals. It was a poor abode, with an old sofa in the living room and an assortment of cheap DVDs and guns. As he turned, he heard a movement behind him.

König shut his eyes, feeling the searing sensation spreading through his body. The stab wound wasn't deep, but it caused excruciating pain. He winced as he swiftly eliminated the assailant before collapsing to the ground, frantically searching for anything that could staunch the bleeding in his stomach.

"No, not a tourniquet," he thought, realizing the wound needed to be packed with something to stop the bleeding and alleviate the dizziness in his head. Slowly, he stumbled out of the house and into the surrounding woods, struggling to remember where his teammates were. The cowards had abandoned him, assuming he was dead.

Leaning against a tree, König regretted tearing his shirt, as the cold breeze and dampness of the forest began to affect his body temperature. Shivering, he fought to retain the little warmth he had left as he reached for his radio. How could his comrades, the ones he had done everything to keep safe, leave him behind as though he were nothing more than an insignificant pebble in the road?

His knees grew heavy, and he collapsed onto the ground. The radio slipped from his grasp, just a few steps away, yet reaching for it felt like an insurmountable task. With each passing second, König felt his strength wane, and he slowly began to follow the beckoning light. A gentle beam enveloped him as he caught sight of his mother's tender face. She smiled, extending her hand towards him, just like she used to do in the old days when she would walk him to kindergarten and affectionately call him her "Schnecke."

König closed his eyes, surrendering to the cold embrace under the solitary tree.

13th December #### [11:15 am]

"No, Lou, don't wake him up. Go out, you silly dog."

König opened his eyes, feeling disoriented. He couldn't remember where he was, so he rubbed his temples and attempted to sit up. Instantly, he regretted it, as a sharp pain shot through his side.

"Oh no no no, sit back down, you're still injured!"

König almost flinched at the sweet voice and turned to see you. If he didn't know any better, he would have thought he was in heaven.

You smiled at him, a sweet grin, while patting a dog who was wagging its tail happily. König stared at you, mouth agape and in shock. You were magnificent, if not more.

He hadn't expected anyone to be living here. The cabin itself was a sight to behold, with its wooden floors and walls reminiscent of his grandpa's old cabin. He smiled as he noticed the crackling fire, realizing that he wasn't sleeping on a dusty bed with torn blankets. Everything in this small place exuded comfort.

He struggled to sit up but winced in pain before murmuring with a low, husky voice, "A... are you an angel?"

You laughed dismissively, shaking your head with warmth and amusement. He wished he could stay by your side and make you laugh forever.

Taking a breath, you handed him a mug of warm tea. "No, I am not an angel, but you can call me that if you wish," you said, settling in a wooden chair beside him.

König held the cup tightly, taking a slow sip of the tea, just the way he liked it—burning with no sugar. He hummed with satisfaction, noticing that he was shirtless, with large bandages wrapped around his abs and stomach.

You quickly explained, your cheeks blushing slightly. "Lou found you when we were out at dawn. My dad and I brought you here, treated your wounds, and your clothes are drying over there..." You pointed to the fire, where he saw his combat boots and uniform drying.

König smiled, not knowing what to say. He simply stared at you, yearning for you to continue speaking. He would give you anything you desired, even carve his chest and offer you his heart if you wished.

He muttered, now feeling more at ease with you so close. "I am sorry, Engel, for the... burden."

You frowned, and he wished he could bury himself alive at the sight of your small, annoyed expression. "There's no need to apologise," you reassured him.

He appreciated your kindness and refrained from saying more. He leaned back, closing his eyes and enjoying the gentle sounds of the crackling fire and the rain pouring outside.

König was young and had never thought much about the future, but after seeing you, he vowed to move heaven and earth for your sake. He would willingly descend into the depths of hell with a grin if it meant seeing you smile.

König woke up later from his short nap, his stomach partially growling from the enticing aroma of soup cooking. He smiled apologetically, looking at your tired form as you approached him with a shy smile.

"I need to... um... change your bandages," you said, blushing slightly. He rejoiced at your adorable and sweet blush, sitting up and exposing his stomach for you to treat.

Your gentle touch on his skin made him shiver, trying his best to ignore your proximity and the alluring scent of your perfume as you tended to his wound, though it was almost impossible.

Finally, he looked away, wincing slightly as you accidentally scratched his wound. Your small apology and the comforting hand that cupped his knee were enough to make him feel lightheaded. You had already claimed his heart, it might as well be yours completely.

16th December #### [23:35]

In just three days, König had fallen head over heels with you. He believed that this fleeting enchantment was a reward for his heroic deeds. He had the pleasure of getting to know your father, basking in your delightful presence, and listening to the soothing melody of your voice as you read or sang to him.

As the days went by, König discovered some of your secrets —your deep passion for baking and your dream of opening a bakery. Your voice, sweet as honey, captivated him completely. Often, he found himself daydreaming as you enthusiastically shared your plans for the future. Secretly, he longed to be a part of that future, to spend countless nights gazing into your eyes, like a sky full of shimmering stars. He yearned to be by your side, to blend with you into a single entity and dive into the depths of an ocean where no one else could reach.

However, he knew that these moments were fleeting, for he had to leave. With a heavy heart and mournful eyes, he glanced around the cabin, wishing he could express his deep gratitude. He wanted nothing more than to whisk you away from this world, for you, a sweet and kind woman, deserved to be treated like a cherished princess from an old fairytale. His life was filled with terror, sins, and agony, while yours appeared to be nothing but pure bliss.

But he knew it wasn't right. You belonged here, and he was merely a simple disturbance in your perfect, sweet dream.

Tears welled up in his eyes as he looked at you with a sad smile. Pulling you close, he breathed in the scent of your perfume, a blend of sweet vanilla and cinnamon, hoping to etch it into his memory forever. Reluctantly, he pulled away and gazed at you, his voice trembling as he spoke.

"Take care of yourself, Engel... I will come back."

Desiring a bond, something to remind you of him, he knew he couldn't be with you. At least, he wanted something of his to remain close to your heart. Before you could protest, he slipped a bracelet made of red beads onto your wrist, urging you to accept it despite your slight frown.

"It's a gift. Take care of it until I see you again."

Your lips quivered, realizing that this was the end, a potential tale cut short before it even began. There was nothing you could do to change it. Some things just weren't meant to be, and deep down, you already knew that. But Konig was no ordinary man you had met by chance. His eyes concealed a painful past, a gentle soul, and a heart overflowing with love. Finally, you mustered the words, accepting the gift.

"Thank you... I promise I'll take good care of it."

After that night, König never saw you again.

Months later, he returned, only to find the area abandoned, with no trace of his Engel. He lived in denial, refusing to face the reality. He knew you were somewhere in this world, and the mere thought of being close to you but not close enough tore him apart. He searched for you tirelessly, interrogating every individual who might have known of your whereabouts, but to no avail.

König was strong, enduring everything - the grueling training in freezing nights, bullets piercing his flesh, and the heart-wrenching loss of his precious comrades. Yet, losing you had left his heart in ruins. Only God knows how much he despised starting over, burying the past and pretending it never existed.

What have you done? Where have you hidden his heart? Will you give it back?

He sighed, his voice barely a whisper carried away by the cold breeze. Years later, he continued the ritual he had adopted after losing you. Every night, he would gaze at the old scars you had left behind, his fingers tracing the marked flesh, finding solace in reminiscing about your sweet gestures when you tended his wounds.

König snapped back to reality, feeling a reassuring pat on his shoulder from Horangi, his steadfast companion. The bond between them was stronger than that of brothers, providing unwavering support in the face of any adversity. They stepped outside together, deciding to stop at a café for some coffee while keeping an eye out for their next task.

As they approached the café, König's heart tightened at the sight of its name, "Engel." He pushed open the door, a weight of anticipation settling upon him. The familiar scent engulfed him as he made his way to the counter. A woman greeted him with a warm smile, whispering softly,

"Just a moment, and I'll be right with you!"

Her voice and smile, etched in his memory for a lifetime, made his mind wander. And then, he noticed the familiar red bracelet adorning her wrist. It couldn't be possible. He muttered, his voice barely audible, as if he was once again a wounded soldier in the woods, "Engel ?"

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androids-insides · 9 months

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Another thing I’d like to explain! What can I say, I like explaining things ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Todays explanation is on my theories (I guess?) on, you guessed it:

The Stanley Parable!

(I like other things, I swear! I’m just very irrationally afraid that everyone who follows me won’t like the other things, so I usually don’t post about it :,] )

A summary, so I don’t lose your attention, is that I like to think that most theories are correct! Now, allow me to explain! (Yes there will be pictures)

Put in different terms, all endings are “cannon,” in what they imply. For example,

This is a helpful and much needed picture of Stanley and The Narrator.

From here, the story could go anywhere! From following directions, to jumping out a window, anything and everything is on the metaphorical table.

This is the Confusion Ending. Here, The Narrator had a story and a point to it all, but has lost his control to a yellow line^tm and self-contradicting revelations.

One of the few examples where The Narrator has no control. The story, the parable and the outcomes are all at someone, or something, else’s command. This is currently cannon.

This, however, is the Countdown Ending. Here, everything had gone exactly to plan, aside from Stanley’s last decision. The Narrator, seemingly on a whim, rewrites the ending in a moment, and has the omnipotence to detonate the entire facility.

At this point, The Narrator is in control of everything. Nothing stands in his way from destroying both Stanley and the story’s outcome. There is no question of who or what has altered the story, as it is most certainly The Narrator himself. This is currently cannon.

If that understands it, then let it be. In some endings, The Narrator is the only one who controls the story, in others, control is left to someone/thing else. In some Stanley has a wife and a kid, and in others he’s just a boring no-body (or, no legs at least). In some The Narrator works the boring office job and created Stanley to entertain himself, in others Stanley miraculously became part of a dark and twisted game that both gave his life meaning and took it away.

On a cosmic scale of “what is the parable and where did it come from,” I honestly think there is no real answer. It’s lazy, I know, but hear me out:

Think of it as Past, Present, Future. We, as spectators or consumers, know very clearly where the story currently is. As well as that, we know several of the ways that it ends. We know it started at some point, is currently existing, and will stop existing after that loading screen, right?

Each ending answers the burning question of “what about before this?” However because of the inconsistent variation, there can’t really be a solid answer. We arrived at the middle of the story, where Stanley works in a big office building and decides to try and figure out where his coworkers went. We don’t know how long Stanley and The Narrator have been in this loop, as it is, you can play The Stanley Parable as many times over as you want. Therefore, the beginning can really only be where we know the story picks up, which is at a time where there is no definitive answer of What came first, The Narrator or The Stanley. A question that no one can truly answer.

It’s sort of like the concept of Gender Fluidity, in a way. Where however the person feels that day is their decided gender, is as to however The Parable ends is how it begins. In conclusion, The Stanley Parable plot is a close second Gender Fluid icon, right behind Nimona.

Joking put briefly aside, I think The Parable is just a huge concept. Did/can/could Stanley talk at some point? Maybe. Isn’t The Narrator supposed to be the “physical” representation of divorce? Probably. Is The Narrator a figment of Stanley’s imagination, or the other way around? Who knows. All I can guarantee, is that the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never

#I forgot to add tags somehow???#the stanley parable #the stanley parable art #the stanley parable fanart #tsp art #tsp fanart #tsp fandom #the stanley parable ultra deluxe #tspud #iknowitsagooddaywhenConnorEatsTrousersthreatenstoeatmyart #whatdoyourhinkittasteslike?

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jiniret-writings · 9 months

Text

Sweet Nothings

Inspired by Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Pairing: idol!Bangchan x idol!Reader

Warnings: Reader ruminates over how they're constantly criticized

Comments, Likes, and Reblogs are welcome and appreciated!

On the way home I wrote a poem You say, "What a mind" This happens all the time

They always wanted so much from you. It was like everyone had some expectation of you that you could never reach. Every lyric scrutinized, every dance move analyzed; even the way you walked was up for scrutiny. What once brought you joy started to feel like a chore. It felt like you weren't allowed to have fun with lyrics anymore unless you wanted articles written about how you had "lost your spark".

That was until Chan came along. The first time you met him you thought he would be like everyone else. Especially since he was a producer and songwriter, you were expecting him to give you feedback from the first meeting--as most producers you met did. Instead, he talked to you about your crocheting. It was a little hobby you had that you barely ever talked about, but he remembered it.

You two had a blossoming friendship that turned to more on a drive home from dance practice. You were playing around with a beat and wrote some lyrics that didn't mean much. It was just an in-the-moment type of thing. But when he heard it, he just smiled at you and added to your little bundle of nonsense.

Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more" To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it

He never judged you. That's one of the things you loved most about him. You were both idols who got extremely busy and each had your own bundle of problems, but at the end of the day when you two were airing it all out in the open and ranting about everything from a small inconvenience to huge scandals, there was never any judgement. Only understanding.

There were days when it seemed like nothing was ever enough. You'd go live and message on bubble and post on Instagram and weverse and even uploaded a vlog! But there was always something amiss. Some challenge you didn't do or some song you didn't talk about. Your captions were either lackluster or too cringe. You kept a brave face around the fans, and even started doing so in front of staff. It was only when you were with Chan that you could let the facade crumble and hide yourself in his embrace.

They said the end is coming Everyone's up to something I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

You were only 24 but were already reminded of how easy it would be for you to fade into nothingness. Every month a new artist debuted, and while you were secure where you were now, there was no guarantee for the future. One day, the world would deem you too old to be an idol and all you'd have left was your name.

But when you came home, it was like all your worries were silenced. There were no expectations between the two of you other than to just be.

"Be yourself, that's all I want from you", he'd said one day when you'd tried breaking up with him early in your relationship. Just be you.

Everything was something to be celebrated. Something as small as waking up was an accomplishment when you were with Chan. Lazy days in were rebranded to self care days. There was no such thing as a lazy meal because everything tasted better when you were together. Chan was your safe space and you were his. All there was between you two was pure love. You treasured each other as you were, not as you could be.

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

This has been sitting unfinished in my drafts for a while, but after Chan changed his Instagram caption I realized how I wanted to write this. I hope all of you have someone you can turn to who can just accept you as you are and not for what you can be. You deserve to be with someone/people who don't have expectations for what you need to be. As always, have a great morning, afternoon, evening, and night <3

-Jini

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myyoungroyalsblog · 10 months

Text

Red, White and Royal Blue fic rec part 2 (part 1)

*Note: I have a lot of unfinished fics in my subscriptions but since there are over 120+ fics there from other fandoms too I won’t be able to add those, when they are finished I’ll do another post in the future!

*Also couldn't find some of these writers here on tumblr, if you know tell me and I’ll add their @ beside it!

MULTI-CHAPTER

Things I Cannot Accept

18 chapters, 69.703 words

By @sprigsofviolets AU where Ellen lost the election in 2016 and Henry and Alex reconnect in 2019. Super cute and interesting story, with a lot of fluff and angst, amazingly written!

Captious (calculated to confuse, entrap or entangle in argument)

3 chapters, 14.256 words

Blind date AU... Well... Sort of... You'll know when you read it hehe but honestly so so sweet with a bit of angst but so much fluff!

My Only Wish (This Year)

7 chapters, 26.374 words

By @dracowillhearaboutthis AU where Henry marries a woman and has two daughters, set 10 years later and Alex and Henry reconnect, and maybe a romance blooms... Of course it does lol very cute kid fic (with a bit of angst too) but still lots of fluff!

Comfort Crowd

8 chapters, 12.098 words

To all the boys I've loved before AU, I don't like the film but since I'm such a sucker for these two of course I read it and got obsessed with it afajsgshsvsg

And they call it—

2 chapters, 10.148 words

By @clottedcreamfudge AU where Alex can talk to animals, so when Henry needs a dog sitter he goes to Alex, and he and David obviously talk about Henry. So funny and fluffy, guaranteed to make you smile!

(do i really have to tell you) how he brought me back to life?

7 chapters, 38.498 words

By @coffeecatsme High school AU where Henry gets kicked out by Mary and lives with Alex's family. A whole lot of angst and a whole lot of fluff, just a superb story!

I'm Taking A Ride With My Best Friend

23 chapters, 79.302 words

By @cultofsappho The Last of Us AU where Henry is immune and Alex helps him get to the fireflies in hopes to create a vaccine. If you've watched the tv show or played the game, you know how this goes lol could not recommend it enough, so much angsty but has fluffy moments too! And the writing is impeccable

i'd lie

6 chapters, 18.058 words

AU where Alex and June move to England with thier mum and have the Fox family as their neighbours, we see the super six throughout the years and how Henry lies might not work anymore... If you want angst, this is the fic for you

ONE SHOT

talk too much

3.307 words

By @lazybug16 Alex has his wisdom teeth removed and Henry takes care of him, just fluff fluff fluff, super adorable (yes self promo because I'm very proud of this fic, I love it)

I trace your constellations

13.498 words

Soulmates, coffee shops and demi Henry AU, just pure flirting and fluff, suuuuuuper cute read!

Never Truly Leave

2.443 words

By @clottedcreamfudge Catherine finds a letter that Arthur wrote... To Alex. We cry alongside Alex as he reads it; very emotional, it will make you cry, and fall in love with these characters all over again, could not recommend enough

you knew the entire time (you knew that i'm a mastermind)

8.239 words

By @coffeecatsme Uni and autistic Henry AU, we see Alex and Henry fall in love. Fluffy but also a bit of angst, you just want to protect Henry and tell him everything is going to be okay

starry eyes sparking up my darkest nights

16.367 words

By @coffeecatsme Hugh school AU where Arthur is also alive and becomes like a second father to Alex. Very very sweet with a bit if angst as well, you'll love it and might have a few happy tears towards the end

learning to love (without it having to hurt)

4.861 words

AU where they aren't famous and they are roommates. We see Henry figure out his asexuality and Alex be there for him, and them getting together of course :) very very sweet read!

The last letter

2.173 words

By @floatingaway4 They are in the afterlife, at peace. This weiter managed to combine angst and fluff at the exact same time and I don't know how they did it, it will make you ugly happy cry!

Fourty-Four Days

8.675 words

They are living in the Brownstone when Henry needs to go to europe for the shelters and Alex to California for a campaign, and they end up not seeing each other for 44 days, and it's too much. Angsty but then fluffy, it just hurts seeing them miss each other so so much

take me out, and take me home

11.837 words

Roommates AU and we see Alex get some feelings, only friendly feelings of course... Really cute story and ending!

i’d take the bomb in your head and disarm it

22.392 words

By @evanbuvkley roommates AU and friends to angsty friends to lovers afahsgsjshdj so much angst that you might cry but a bit of fluff too (happy ending don't worry) such an engaging story, very well executed

and I wrote down our song

6.072 words

AU where Alex is a musician and Henry isn't a prince and they meet at a bar where Alex is performing. Super cute and we see how they fall in love and grow and it's just full of joy!

Group therapy

3.243 words

By @stutteringpeach AU where Ellen is Henrys therapist and he is dating Alex and talks to Ellen about their relationship, without knowing that it's actually his boyfriends mum... They "meet" at a family cook out and its honestly hilarious lmao you will not stop laughing

#I made this draft on this blog cause I started it before I made my rwrb blog lol #rwrb #red white and royal blue #rwrb fic #red white and royal blue fic #firstprince #mine #queue

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talzane · 2 years

Text

Highly disappointed that the “Infinite” Realms is always just full of ghosts. Monster AUs have so much potential, especially with all the DC crossovers. Vampires that can subsist off the pure energy of ectoplasm present in the air, so they’re never hungry. They can grow/hide/exist all by themselves. Alternately, the realms could act as a base of indefinite preparation for them if they decide to do anything to an infinite number of worlds. Werewolves that are free to play like wolves, to hunt the game they seeded their own dimension/realm with, to be perfectly free. The Yetis who used their magic to make their own home in the Realms as the Ice Age began to fail them. Duulaman’s Egypt, home of an entire sorcerous people, capable of casting the souls of their people into an eternal realm where they could thrive forever in, essentially, the field of reeds. The Mummies found there reanimated so that their revered ancestors could walk amongst them again, or their bodies rejuvenated (good plot there if Hotep-Ra, a traitor, was left as a mummy by his people when everybody else was brought back to life). Pandora, Guardian of Hope, and her Realm of Elysium, a home for all the monsters of Ancient Greece who were cast out/shunned/destroyed by society. A place of healing for the traumatized Minotaur (he was raised to kill people in a dark maze, that’s gotta be traumatic), cursed Medusa, etc (seriously, a rehab center where you can literally hold Hope in your hands when you have none...hek). Not to mention, since she guards Hope, it could be a literal object, and Vlad stealing Hope but not knowing how to use its power is a *highly* interesting plot to me. Somewhere that Desiree, a djinni, can avoid the people who’d only attempt to abuse her power to grant wishes. (There are so many more things to add...Liches, Witch Covens, Dora and Aragon’s Kingdom of Mattingly [dragons], other creatures) Sure, some beings there--like Skulker--want to fight, but by the very nature of Lairs/Realms, he can’t follow others into their homes and expect to survive, so they are safer than anywhere else. The ghosts and creatures that love to battle are free to do so in the regenerative chaos of the realms. The ghosts who want to be left alone can find their own slice of infinity. It truly is, or at least could be, a paradise for everybody... Which makes Pariah Dark so much eviler. The moment he awoke, he destroyed people’s homes so they couldn’t hide from him, he enslaved entire peoples to make thralls for his army, he devoured ghosts--absorbing their essence--to rebuild his lost strength, he used those armies to attack the realms capable of resisting him for a time, he pulled a resisting city into the Realms as an act of aggression. Everything he did was in stark contrast to the path of existence the nations of the realms had chosen, and his will was absolute; all the beings capable of being compelled were compelled to serve him, every lich lost their phylactery to him and were forced to submit to him, every free group was under threat of slavery or extinction. Even Vortex and Undergrowth, two incredibly dark beings, resisted as well as they could, but had Danny not attacked Pariah Dark’s center of power, even they would have fallen. Essentially, Danny stopping Pariah Dark would have far more of an impact, yet also none at all as it would be mostly behind the scenes. Danny, all of fourteen years old, battled the evilest being to have existed at that time in a fight to the death without any guarantee of survival. Frostbite and the other beings, feeling the weakness of Pariah’s forces, since he was occupied with Danny and the attacking ghost forces, launched their own counterattack and arrived before Danny’s duel was over to see Danny, still so small even in the battle suit, fighting the titanic mass of Pariah Dark, King of all Ghosts. Frostbite, left arm shredded by a summoned beast, watched in fascinated horror as Danny’s strength waned, but he still forced Dark back. Pandora, Guardian of Hope, watched a tiny child stare down a stone-face goliath. Vortex, for all his wrath, couldn’t have stood against Pariah, but that diminutive whelp was a storm unto himself and nothing, not even Pariah Dark, it seemed, could stand against a force of nature. Nocturne, Lord of Sleep, King of Dreams, and once a slave to Pariah Dark, had suffered from nightmares since Pariah’s return; his dream realm had fallen, his sleepwalkers obliterated, his precious, harvested dreams destroyed, and Pariah had once again enslaved Nocturne, yet the power of Pariah’s ritual was waning, and Nocturne felt himself awakening from his nightmare. He watched a tiny child, someone who should be dreaming instead of facing down a nightmare, deliver the dream of the king of dreams; Pariah was being forced into his sarcophagus. For Frostbite, Danny became the Great One; to Pandora, he was a child of Hope, a miracle (it didn’t hurt that he locked a great evil in a box either); to Vortex, he was a little storm, a squall; to Nocturne, Danny was a savior and a dream come true, surely, Nocturne could repay him with good dreams...maybe even for the little one’s entire Lair... All I’m saying is that context is everything, and having Vortex be a literal embodiment of storms and nature rather than just a ghost with storm powers is a lot more enticing to me. Pandora being Danny’s ghost mom is great, but her seeing him as a child of what she embodies rather than just “he is smol, I must help,” seems richer. Then there’s the DC crossover potential once Danny inevitably begins letting the peaceful individuals stay in Amity Park under his protection, or sending those who’d fit in to the Infinite Realms (Mr. Freeze and Nora relocating to the Far Frozen where he can get all the help he needs, not live in his suit, and either turn Nora into a ghost or cure her, Poison Ivy to live with Undergrowth [kinda like that island she had in the Bahamas], Killer Croc most likely to Egypt, Harley would fit in with Kitty and Johnny’s level of crazy, etc.). Imagine Batman investigating all his missing rogues, but when he eventually tracks them down, he finds them living peacefully in an infinite realm of places where they can’t hurt anybody permanently, and the people there are similarly obsessive/crazy. But also, Ghost King Danny, Protector of the Infinite Realms, etc., etc., leading an army of “monsters” to defend Earth from Darkseid, or, since Darkseid is always after the Anti-life Equation (considering all their different abilities, it would make sense for ghosts/ectoplasm to be the essence of the equation), defending the Infinite Realms against Darkseid/the Anti-Monitor. That’s all neglecting the chaos potential of Jack and Maddie believing all things not expressly human are ghosts. I also firmly think that since the Infinite Realms connect all universes, there can only ever be one ghost/ectoplasmic entity of any given individual regardless of the universe(s) of origin, and I have written pseudoscience for it (using some computer science and physics ideas, so it makes sense with less hand-waving). That’s neither here nor there, so I will end this before it gets any longer. Anyways, that’s the thought I just had, figured I’d share it with y’all and see if y’all were interested.

#danny phantom #dp x dc #dp au

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k-rising · 1 year

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Pick a card: your current energy

DISCLAIMER: readings are used as a guide, but the decisions you want to make for yourself are YOUR RESPONSIBILITY. this is for entertainment purposes only.

☞ choose a pile that draws your attention the most.

☞ you can choose more than one option, but I recommend that you stick with the first one you chose.

☞ readings don't have an expiration date.

⁎₊✧˚♡⁎₊✧˚♡⁎₊✧˚♡⁎₊✧˚♡⁎₊✧˚♡⁎₊✧˚♡⁎₊✧˚♡⁎₊✧˚♡⁎₊✧˚

𝓟𝓲𝓵𝓮 𝟏ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ𝓟𝓲𝓵𝓮 𝟐ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ𝓟𝓲𝓵𝓮 𝟑

⁎₊✧˚♡⁎₊✧˚♡⁎₊✧˚♡⁎₊✧˚♡⁎₊✧˚♡⁎₊✧˚♡⁎₊✧˚♡⁎₊✧˚♡⁎₊✧˚

𝓟𝓲𝓵𝓮 𝟏

there is a very relaxed energy and a very confident one as well!

you are in a moment of your life in which you need to make a decision, but you have to be very careful with what you choose because, despite the fact that you have fascinating options and that they guarantee that you can achieve wonderful things, many times this doesn't happen; people can fool you. you have to think twice before making a final decision.

some of you may be working a lot with many people lately and others may be just in constant contact with people. whatever the case may be, this contact can benefit both you and the others.

for some of you, you are letting things flow. for others, on the other hand, you may want to start doing so. I'm visualizing you enjoying your leisure time and I'm also visualizing that you are beginning to pay more attention to your inner voice. you are reflecting a lot and making an honest criticism of yourself. you want to start living your life a different way.

a lovely surprise will come into your life soon and it will make you very happy. as I said before, your intuition is trying to give you a message... it's up to you if you want to listen to it.

you are leaving or you want to leave behind many things that have been bothering you for a while now. this can also be interpreted as meaning that you want to go on a trip to a distant place or move abroad, more specifically to another continent.

⸻

𝓟𝓲𝓵𝓮 𝟐

there is a mix of nostalgia, emotion and sadness all together.

I feel like you started to be more generous, calm and understanding, but something happened in between that, from one day to another, you started to feel sad.

for some of you, you may have experienced a not so pleasant situation and had to ask for help from a professional (idk why, but a psychologist comes to mind) or a friend/acquaintance/relative.

nostalgia here is key in this reading. you may have seen someone again that you haven't seen in a while or you just started a hobby you used to do as a kid… but, like I said, this, in some way or another, made you feel sad… I feel like this has something to do with some truma or unresolved situation.

as a result of this, you may have considered that you lost your opportunity with that person/hobby, despite the fact that the potential was always there… however, nothing is lost. it's never too late to resume a friendship/relationship or make that hobby your current job.

if in your case it is someone in particular who hasn't seen each other for a long time and got back together… I feel that this person was your friend, but then you realized that this person has changed and he/she let you down somehow.

⸻

𝓟𝓲𝓵𝓮 𝟑

you're not having a good time lately. you're feeling lonely, isolated and lost. you don't know how to continue with your life and which way to go. you're in a difficult situation where you are taking everything in an extremist way and you cannot make a balance.

for some of you, I feel that all this arises from a disappointment regarding your friendships and for others regarding your future with your studies/work. for the second option, if you go to university, I feel like you left a career and want to start a new one. I feel like you're not getting much support from your parents and that makes you very upset. I think they are comparing you a lot with someone in particular and you don't like that at all.

even though you feel like you're stuck, everything has a solution. it's your future after all and you can do whatever you want with your life. you have to learn to have more self-confidence and pursue your dreams.

⁎₊✧˚♡⁎₊✧˚♡⁎₊✧˚♡⁎₊✧˚♡⁎₊✧˚♡⁎₊✧˚♡⁎₊✧˚♡⁎₊✧˚♡⁎₊✧˚

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾　𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑜 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔! 　☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

#pick a card #pick a pile #pick a card reading #pick a pile reading #tarot #tarot reading #tarot community #pick a pac #pick a pac reading #free tarot reading

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mvniro · 5 months

Text

. . . (🍷) ֶָ֢ 𔓘 MY HEART IS ALREADY YOUR'S, JUST CLAIM IT ; an atsushi nakajima drabble. ❞

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . athelete atsushi fluff? hell yeah!! give atsushi love you guys. (aka give me attention).

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . tw; angst, fluff, hurt to comfort idk, fem!reader, footballer!atsushi, actress!reader, anxious atsushi, atsushi has low self esteem, atsushi and reader are just cute fools in love and that's it ig,

sometimes losing is essential for the development of a person but not now. atsushi is ready to loose anything but this moment, his perfect and only opportunity to open his heart and serve it on a platter. oh whatever entity is above , he prays to you tonight to let things go his way for once. atsushi doesn't deem himself worthy of many things and it's the same now as he runs, bumping into people and profusely apologizing to them, anxious eyes glancing back to make sure his bouquet of flowers he carefully picked doesn't get damaged in the slightest.

anxious, scared yet excitement coated with nervousness.

atsushi is a man of sorrow, of disappointments and of unfortune but he had always gambled his way, betting his entire life for the temporary and fabricated worth to breath, to inhale without feeling as if he owns something and everything to everyone. the burning in his knees aren't from fatigue, he is a good runner or he wouldn't be in the national team but from fear.

he knows he doesn't have much time but please, oh please, let him have a few minutes at most. that's all he needs and deserves. feeling himself near the port where it all started years ago when atsushi was still a freshman in university, atsushi feels the same he felt that day.

and as the adults in his life turned a blind eye to his misfortunes, he too, turns a deaf ear to the thumping in his heart.

he speeds up, his eyes sparkles and he stops in his tracks entirely. the transition of his panick to cold anxiety is impressive but not more impressive then you who waited for him even if he is half an hour late from the original meet up time that he had set and shame not only backhugs him but makes its authority, its dominance over him clear in the form of the blood rushing to his cheeks.

"i . . . am late, sor-"

"-- yeah, you are late."

"i . . . please come to support me tomorrow, it's the semi finals."

you two spoke at the same time and even the way you two widened your eyes happened at the same time.

atsushi had never been a man of fake hope but come on, this moment can't be a coincidence right?

raising his hand to place it on his nape which he then rubbed to form some friction strong enough to take his attention away from his furiously beating heart, atsushi glances down, biting his lip for his words are lost in the labyrinth which is his brain.

you bite your thumb, anxious eyes staying on him before falling on the bouquet of flowers by his side but you don't speak rather, you can't. you have never been one to speak first after all.

a few minutes of agonizing silence passed by before the small yet prominent part of atsushi which is a rebel compared to the rest of his personality, shouted, begged even for him to speak out now or hold this same cruel silence forever.

and who is atsushi but not a man and who is a man but not him who doesn't take the opportunity presented infront of him, taking the risk all for that success which isn't even guaranteed to be his?

taking a deep breath, his stomach is churning in anxiety, he exhales and couldn't, no matter how much he tried to, ignore the sweat forming on his nape.

atsushi raised his head, feeling his fingers turn cold and the coldness spreading to the rest of his hand.

atsushi took a step forward and grabbed your forearm, pulling you near him.

oh.

calling you out despite knowing your movie premiere is in a few hours, finding time to squeeze out of his own hectic training to run all the way here and all for a measly invitation?

no, no, wait no. oh god, no.

this wasn't what he wanted to say, he wanted to confess today yet no matter how much atsushi matures, how much he heals, he will remain the same coward he was ever since a kid.

atsushi could feel tears pooling in his eyes at utter disappointment at his own self, lips parted yet closed because will a confession even matter now? he ruined his chances.

atsushi's coach playfully slapped his back, leading him out of the stadium and your smile didn't dare leave your face as you see him laugh, hiding the upper half of his face with his hand as he didn't try to fight the countless teasings of his teammates, he liked it, liked when they spoke of your name and his in the same sentence.

your heart squeezed in pain upon seeing tears in the eyes of the angel who stood with you many time despite your habit of always fucking over everything.

you knew you would either be proud or regret this moment but when has any of that ever mattered when it comes to atsushi so you step forwards, hesitantly raising your arms before you engulfed the man in a hug, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pull him closer.

atsushi broke down.

mayhaps it's the pressure of representing the country in the semi finals of the world cup, the expectations of his teammates, the fear of failing infront of the entire world, failing infront of you or maybe it's because he is disappointed in itself, lost his faith in himself and because he doesn't think he is worthy of hugging you

"if you win tomorrow," you pause, sadly looking down at his trembling form as he silently cries, ashamed and embarrassed, disappointed and sorrowful, ". . .take me out on a date and kiss me by the end of the night."

you complete your sentence as you didn't mind his arms being by his sides and not encircling your waist. you take the bouquet from his hand while you continue to rub his back in a comforting way with the other.

atsushi nods, face hiding in the crook of your neck and you close your eyes, relishing in the short moment of peace your heart acquired before your big show tonight, nothing but well wishes and hopes leaving your heart for the white haired man who is in your arms.

and you sigh, in disappointment or sadness, you aren't sure but one thing for certain is that atsushi nakajima won't confess today even if his feelings are awfully obvious.

and you? you will wait, for tomorrow, for you were tired of waiting and gave him the shove he needed.

and you could only hope that the status of your relationship changes tomorrow and who is atsushi if not a man?

and who is a man who doesn't grasp the opportunity presented to him?

and atsushi is a man, a human of the rawest form or else is there any better explanation to explain why only a day later, as atsushi scored the last goal, his first instinct wasn't to run towards his teammates and celebrate, wasn't to admire the fireworks fired to congratulate the winning team ; the team he is a part of.

but to look at the bleachers where thousands of fans sat and between them, were you, his eyes immediately found you because he had been looking at you many times once his teammate pointed you out to him.

your heart thumped in your chest, a grin couldn't be stopped by your self control from taking over your face as you continued to look at atsushi who pointed at himself, ran a hand through his hair, showed you two fingers -- his index and middle finger to indicate 'two' -- before he pointed at his wrist and then finally looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

in response, you tilted your head as you pouted subtly before closing your eyes as you shrugged and nodded, giggling upon seeing atsushi being swarmed by his teammates running and jumping onto him.

"two hours . . . i have spend an entire year while waiting for you to confess so two more hours isn't a big deal for me." you mumbled to yourself, not even thinking of the scandals and articles the media will publish centred on you and atsushi.

your eyes soften at the sight below of the happy and excited team members who ruffled atsushi's hair or congratulated him for his goal did end up being the one to make them enter the finals after all.

the grin on atsushi's face, sweat dribbling down his temples and the way sweet laughs left his lips were the sight you wanted to see forever.

when you leaned your chin on your palm and leaned forwards, you could almost picture atsushi being this joyful with your kids -- having a family with atsushi? the thought had you biting down on your bottom lip shyly.

atsushi ran towards his coach who patted his back, congratulating him and throwing a few praises which had the younger boy blushing in embarrassment when his eyes, once again, found you and atsushi tuned out from the world, his eyes were focused on only you and the adrenaline from winning which was still in his veins converted into courage and the small prominent part of him, the rebel, possessed him when atsushi raised his hand to point at you before blowing a flying kiss in your direction, winking after and the way he smirked when he saw your eyes widen in surprise before you smiled had nearly the entire stadium squealing at the sight of the man.

atsushi chuckled, turning to face his teammate as he talked to him for a few minutes before he looked at you again, winking again, taking advantage of this newfound courage in him and something about the sight of a sweat drenched atsushi with his hair messed up winking has you clenching your thighs and smiling like a lovesick fool.

you cover your bottom half of your face with your palm to conceal your smile from the many eyes and atsushi laughed, covering and rubbing his face with his hands -- the camera flashed capturing both of you in the moment and it will surely make a good cover picture on tomorrow's articles.

━━━━━━━ 🎀 end.

#bsd #bsd atsushi #atsushi nakajima #bungou stray dogs atsushi #atsushi x reader #atsushi x y/n #atsushi x you #atsushi fluff #bsd fluff #bsd fanfic #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x you #bsd angst #bungou stray dogs fanfic #bsd x female reader

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caffedrine · 1 year

Text

Gilbert von Obsidian - Challenge From the King of Trampling - Event Summary

Do I ever know what I’m doing? You shouldn’t trust me, or my suspect understanding of what’s going on in my daily life, much less in Gilbert’s world.

Accuracy is not guaranteed - you should definitely pick up this event when it reaches the English server.

This event is set in the event series that predates Gilbert's route - where he and Emma will never be anything more than friends.

Prologue

The afternoon is very lovely, with a peaceful blue sky, bright sunshine, and the promise of a peaceful day. Emma wishes this moment would last forever.

Sitting next to her, munching on a small pile of cookies on the table, Gilbert asks if Emma would like to play a game with him, trampling on that peaceful moment like the villain he is. Emma asks why he suddenly wants to play, and Gilbert glibly replies that it’s just his current mood.

Emma is only here because Gilbert had told her to make a lot of sweets for him, but maybe his real purpose wasn’t just to eat a small army’s worth of cookie rations but to play a game instead. And tide himself over with the cookies. Gilbert is very skilled at manipulating people into doing what he wants.

Gilbert continues, it would be boring just having a game with no reward. Oh, but if they made it a winning condition that the loser would have to do anything the winner wants . . .

Sensing a trap, Emma quickly refuses. Gilbert laughs, does she think she can say no? Emma asks him to cut to the chase and tell her what he wants her to do. She already knows that she’ll lose.

Well not necessarily. Gilbert is thinking up games where she has a good shot at winning as well. In fact, he already has a plan. Placing his cloak over the table, Gilbert snaps his fingers and pulls back the cloak to reveal a box. Warily, Emma opens it only to find some sheets of paper, pens, and ink.

Gilbert’s idea is for both he and Emma to put their own game ideas into the box. Two ideas each, and then they’ll blindly draw. And, to make it fair, they will have the winner be the best two out of three.

Emma realizes that Gilbert is allowing her to write a game that favors her. Maybe she does have a chance of winning. She turns to Gilbert and asks if when he said the loser would have to do anything the winner wanted . . .

(For once, Gilbert can make Emma sweets instead!)

Gilbert promises that it goes for him as well, if Emma wins, she can ask him to do anything. It’s a high-risk, high-reward game. And, as a handicap, Gilbert is okay with Emma asking for help during the game.

Emma points out that it would put Gilbert at a great disadvantage. Gilbert laughs and asks if she’s serious. He’s the Marshall of Eternal Victory, he’s never lost a match or game.

While Gilbert gloats, Emma considers it. She already is forced to follow his whims, so this might be her only chance to get payback. Even though it’s risky, Emma decides to accept Gilbert’s match.

The peaceful time is ended, and Emma’s battle with the Trampling Beast has begun.

Gilbert only smiles at her; he’s looking forward to having fun together.

Round 1 – The Affectionate Confrontation of Sweets

The first match was a game Emma had put in, and she does not doubt that she will win. The stage is the kitchen, filled with all the ingredients the castle cooks were able to spare. The game is to make as many sweets as possible with the ingredients on hand and feed them to Gilbert. If he eats everything, he will win. If Emma can make enough sweets that even Gilbert has had too many, she wins.

Sitting in the kitchen at a nearby table, Gilbert admits that he is looking forward to this game. He wonders what kind of sweets will be made for him. He and his stomach are looking forward to this challenge. He seems confident, which only invigorates Emma’s fighting spirit.

Behind Emma are her three reliable helpers: Yves, Licht, and Luke. She had chosen the people most familiar with sweets to face Gilbert in this challenge.

(Team Sweets)

Proud as a peacock, Yves admits that since Emma seems a little over her head, he’s here to help. Luke’s role was to bring the honey, which he has 5 liters that he’s willing to share. Licht isn’t entirely sure why he’s here. Yves assures him that his presence is essential – he needs to finish up whatever Gilbert doesn’t eat.

Please, Licht, your big brother is counting on you.

Emma thanks all of them for coming and helping her win against Gilbert. With Yves and Luke, who are good at making sweets, and Licht tasting them for quality, there’s no doubt that she will win. Licht asks if she’s decided on what to make.

The plan is to make something very high in calories, that will fill up the stomach quickly. Luke thinks that honey would be put to good use, and Yves suggests a classic cake with cream and honey. Luke notes that with this plan, Gilbert will have to give up eating due to how sweet it’s going to be, not to even mention the calories. Surveying her supplies, Emma thinks that they have enough to make 50 servings.

Licht is taken aback and asks if Emma has some grudge against Gilbert or something. Pipping in, Gilbert corrects him, it’s not a grudge, it’s love. Emma ignores him and begins putting ingredients into a bowl. Luke is about to say something, but Gilbert interrupts him, giving him the universal ‘secret’ sign. Emma asks what that was about, and Luke tells her that it’s nothing.

Continuing, Emma tries to silence her bad feeling, wondering if she’s just overthinking it.

A few hours later.

Emma wonders if this is all just an elaborate lie. Yves wonders if his eyes are deceiving him. Licht wonders if all this time, Gilbert was secretly a monster. Luke wonders where Gilbert put all of it.

(In his fifth dessert stomach)

A giant cake, filled with cream and honey, large enough to serve fifty people, was now all inside Gilbert’s stomach. Smiling sweetly at them, Gilbert compliments the cooks and asks if they have any more.

Emma recalls Gilbert happily munching on the cookies before the match. He should have already been more than half full. How did this happen? Wailing in despair, Emma collapses to her knees in the kitchen.

Gilbert admits that he’s about 80% full now. But he wants the other 20% to be full too. His only complaint was that the cake was too sweet – it gave him mild heartburn. To be fair, he half expected it from Emma and her friends. He admits that the four of them (including Licht, somehow) are amazing chefs.

Yves is in a weird state of being pleased with praise, and not happy with being praised. Luke admits that he had the feeling that this was going to happen anyways. He points out that if they were serious, they could have just made really foul-tasting sweets.

Oh. Oh yeah. That probably would have won them their victory.

As if thinking the same thing, Gilbert’s shoulders shake with poorly repressed mirth. He tells Luke that Emma is still Emma, she wouldn’t do that to an honored state guest. Honestly, he likes that about her.

Well, at least one person seems happy, even if it’s not the person Emma wanted to be thrilled by this. At least he’s praising them for all of their hard work.

Standing up, Gilbert walks over to where Emma has collapsed and kneels in front of her. Emma looks up, awkwardly noticing that his face is so close. Very politely, Gilbert thanks Emma for the meal and kisses her cheek, and suddenly Emma’s thoughts screech to a halt. He smiles as if enjoying her reaction.

Yves cuts in, asking them to stop being so shameless in the middle of the kitchen. Gilbert asks what he means by ‘shameless’, his fingers running over Emma’s lips. Suddenly, Emma realizes that she’s in danger.

Emma jumps up and hides behind Luke, announcing that it’s time for the next match. She definitely won’t lose it. Gilbert has an exaggerated expression of regret but shrugs his shoulders in acquiescence. He wonders what the next game will be.

Current Score: 0 wins and 1 loss.

Round 2 – The Honey Trap and the Jewelry Showdown

The second match was a game invented by Gilbert.

Gilbert explains that Obsidian is the land of military and ore, and there is a ‘fun’ game they can use stones to play with. He pulls out a pouch from the inside of his cloak (which Emma was certain hadn’t been there a second ago) and hands it to her. In the bag are two rocks, and one gemstone. Emma has 30 minutes to guess which one is the gemstone. Gilbert will just wait right here in this room, in this chair (digesting) for her to come back with her answer.

To be honest, Emma isn’t confident in her ability to appraise gems or jewels, but if she has someone to help her, then maybe she has a chance. The palace is full of princes, there has to be at least one of them familiar with jewels.

Right?

The only two princes she can find are Nokto and Jin, the battle-hardened womanizers of the palace. Emma hopes that, with their experience of picking jewelry as gifts for women, they can help her. At the very least, they’ve seen more gemstones than she has.

Jin admits that he’s seen his fair share of gems and knows a lot . . . . he looks into the bag and asks if Emma is serious. Nokto looks as well, his face looking grim.

The gem in the bag is unprocessed, it looks just like the other two stones. A true merchant or jeweler could recognize the true gem, but it becomes quickly apparent that the moniker does not apply to any of the three of them.

Nokto notes that probably only Silvio or Chevalier would be able to tell which one was the true gem. Jin recalls that Silvio has left the castle on business, and as for Chevalier . . . Nokto finishes the thought, noting that he won’t help them. Jin wonders if maybe Chevalier’s big brother can convince him to embrace the spirit of cooperativity, but Nokto points out that if anyone could do it, they can’t do it in the next 30 minutes.

Well, there’s no help for it. Emma will just have to rely on blind luck. Gilbert probably put this game in, knowing exactly that she would have no help.

Oh, no, no, no, that won’t do. Who does Emma think they are, amateurs? Nokto adds that if she came to them for help, she already knew that a straightforward attack against Gilbert wouldn’t work.

Uh, no, Emma just came to them because there was no one else available, she was absolutely planning on a straightforward attack.

Jin places his hand on Emma’s left shoulder, and Nokto places his hand on her right. Jin tells her to leave it to him, he’ll teach her a very special technique. Nokto will also cooperate, though he expects something in return.

Emma has a very bad feeling.

After most of the time is over, Emma returns to Gilbert, who had been leisurely looking out the window. Turning to face her, he idly greets Emma, only to come up short when he sees her face. Looking absolutely dumbfounded, he asks what happened.

(Of all the plans and eventualities Gilbert anticipated, this was not one of them)

Emma is not going to tell him. She’s not going to tell anyone what happened. Why, oh why did Jin and Nokto have to go that far? Maybe she should just quit right now before it becomes worse.

Oh, right. If she loses, it’ll be worse.

Throwing all the shreds that remained of her dignity to the wind, Emma walks over to Gilbert and sits down in his lap, wrapping her arms around him tightly. It’s actually a blessing in disguise that he’s so cold, it’s almost a balm against her too-hot skin.

Gilbert asks what Emma thinks she’s doing.

(Seriously, Gilbert wants to know what's going on)

Her face blazing red, Emma is barely able to look into Gilbert’s eye as she croaks out that she wants a hint.

Gilbert eventually recovers enough to ask if this is some sort of honey trap. If so, Emma is really . . . he can’t say anymore without laughing.

Emma shouts at him to stop laughing, she’s desperate. Maybe she should have just given up and accepted the loss. But she’s already here, in Gilbert’s lap, wrapped around him. It’s far too late for her to back down. Instead, she clutches him tighter and shouts that she’ll never let go of him until he gives her a hint.

Gilbert considers this for about half a second before telling her that it’s okay with him if they stay like this forever. Not expecting this, Emma looks at him as if he has grown two heads. If they stay like this forever, Emma will be in big trouble!

And Gilbert doesn’t see how that’s his problem. In fact, he’s thrilled that she’s doing this of her own accord. To Emma’s horror, instead of her gambit working, Gilbert wraps his own arms around her, gently stroking her back.

As Emma’s discomfort grows, Gilbert just grins at her. The only way to avoid looking at him in her position is to bury her head in his shoulder. Gilbert tells her that if she wants to continue, she could at least kiss him.

Well, that is impossible. Emma will only kiss someone whom she likes. Gilbert asks if she doesn’t like him, but Emma is only silent. Gilbert complains that Emma is so sneaky.

Well, if Emma likes anyone, it wouldn’t be someone who makes fun of her. Gilbert asks if that means that she likes kind people, and Emma admits that she likes kind people more than mean ones.

Gilbert considers this slowly and eventually tells Emma to hand him the pouch. Curiously, Emma complies, and Gilbert lines up the three stones on the table next to them. He tells her that the stone on the left is worthless. When Emma just looks confused, Gilbert explains that her choices are either the middle stone or the right stone.

Emma is still confused, so Gilbert explains that she just said that she prefers kind people. So, this is a special service just for her.

Emma doesn’t understand Gilbert. She wonders if he’s teasing her, and she slowly faces the stones. Right now her odds of winning are 50/50, so she has to believe in herself.

Emma chooses the stone on the right, and Gilbert’s eye narrows. He admits that she got the correct answer, and Emma cheers, thrilled that she has won. She’s so happy and relieved that she has forgotten that she’s sitting in the lap of the Trampling Beast.

Gilbert notes that she has lost a lot to gain this victory, and Emma asks him not to say that. Suddenly remembering where she is, and whom she is on top of, Emma starts to get up, only to be restrained by Gilbert.

He warns Emma not to do this to another man unless she wants to find their corpse later. Emma tells him not to worry, she’s never going to do this again, not even to Gilbert.

Gilbert makes a disappointed face as Emma slides off his lap. Whether or not it’s a joke expression, Emma feels her heart pound in her chest. This is nothing, it’s just embarrassment.

To cover her feelings, Emma announces that the next round is the last, the deciding round.

Current Score: 1 win and 1 loss.

Round 3 – If You’re Embarrassed You’ll Lose! Hide-And-Seek Showdown!

The third game was a match Emma had devised.

It’s a simple hide-and-seek showdown. Emma hides, and if Gilbert finds her within the time limit, he’ll win. If he can’t find her and Emma escapes him, she’ll win.

Gilbert is overjoyed to play this game, he’s very good at hide-and-seek. Finding and killing hidden pests is not only his hobby but the favorite part of his job.

Emma asks him to refrain from killing her.

It’s dangerous, but Emma was always good at hide-and-seek since she was a child. Besides, there’s a secret spot in the castle that she’s confident Gilbert doesn’t know about. She is certain that she’ll be victorious, as long as she’s careful.

Behind her are her two reliable allies, who came to help her when she explained her predicament. Clavis, the royal hide-and-seek master promises to guide her to victory. Meanwhile, Leon has agreed to his role of referee where he watches Gilbert to prevent him from doing anything illegal or immoral during the game, so Emma can be free to hide. Gilbert asks if Emma really doesn’t trust him.

Ignoring his comment, Emma starts the game. Gilbert wishes her the best of luck.

Clavis is impressed, even he never knew that there was a secret room only accessible via a hidden passageway. It was a room Emma and Rio had found by chance while exploring the castle, and she hopes that if one of the residents, particularly Clavis, didn’t know about it, then maybe Gilbert won’t either. It’s no exaggeration to say that this room is perfect for a game of hide-and-seek.

Clavis reminds her that Gilbert is on a different level, he will probably find this room without much trouble. Emma admits that he’s right, and she’s already considered it. Gilbert is the Marshall of Eternal Victory, a genius who makes the impossible possible. With that in mind, finding a secret passageway and locating this room is well within his abilities.

Which is why Emma made sure to have Clavis on her side.

It suddenly hit Clavis what Emma’s true plan is, and they both have evil expressions on their faces. Emma tells him that she will stop at nothing and do anything to win this game. Clavis approves of this, and if she’s like this then it’s time for him to get serious as well.

As expected, Gilbert found the room. From behind, Leon very calmly and without any anger asks Gilbert how he already knows about the hidden passages in the palace. Gilbert doesn’t feel like answering, besides, if Leon uses his brain just a little bit, he’d already know.

Yeah, there’s obviously a spy in the castle who has rooted out the secret passages.

Looking around the room, Gilbert notices that Clavis appears to be the only person in it. So far, he hasn’t noticed Emma hiding behind the bookcase.

Emma holds her breath, the real battle starts now.

Clavis asks if something is wrong? Why doesn’t Gilbert come on in and look around a bit. Leon agrees, the hide-and-seek game isn’t over until he’s found Emma, right? Silently, Emma urges Gilbert to just take a single step inside.

There are about 20 of the Lelouch series traps set at the entrance of the room. If Gilbert enters, he will be in hell. Not even he can avoid the trap Clavis set up.

Gilbert announces that he’s happy where he is, he’ll just wait for Emma to come out to him. Leon reminds him that there is a time limit, but Gilbert only laughs; Emma will definitely come out before then.

Clavis asks how he can say that, and Gilbert responds that Emma is actually very fond of him. So fond, in fact, that just earlier she had climbed on top of him, straddled him, and hugged him tightly.

Leon asks if Gilbert is okay. In the head.

Oh, but it’s true. It was actually a very nice hug too. Usually, Emma is very shy, but Gilbert thinks she might like him. When she kisses him, her face turns so red, and her body shivers when he touches her. What could that mean other than she likes him a lot? Even now, Gilbert has no doubt that she’s desperately restraining herself from throwing herself at him.

Clavis is amazed at how far their relationship has progressed. Weakly. Leon asks if Gilbert is joking.

(Who's side is he on again?)

The betrayal!!

Gilbert sweetly apologizes for stealing their precious bunny away from them.

Okay, maybe what Gilbert is saying is true, but he’s taking everything wildly out of context.

Gilbert asks if they want to hear more about his and Emma’s ‘friendship’. Eagerly, Clavis asks how many volumes of material this romance series will go over, and Gilbert estimates at least 50 novels worth of quality and true content.

For the prologue, Gilbert will talk about all the different ways he’s touched Emma and made her feel good. The results are-

Okay, Emma gives up! She nearly collapses out from behind the bookcase, her hands desperately covering her ears. Gilbert laughs and announces that he’s found her, asking if she missed him so much. Emma yells that everything he’s saying is too malicious and out of context. Gilbert counters that it’s all true.

Okay, maybe there were facts in there, but Gilbert had gotten everything so twisted up!

Clavis muses that there were ‘facts’ in what Gilbert was saying. Emma tells him to stop thinking. Leon tells Emma that she has poor taste in men and that she should dump Gilbert. Emma wails for Leon to believe in her and her taste in men.

(Leon discovers what it feels like to be a father disapproving of his daughter's boyfriend)

Gilbert cuts in saying that he is deciding to have absolutely no idea what Emma’s talking about, but he wants to claim this win. Which means that Emma has lost their game, and now she is his to do with as he pleases.

Ugh. Emma wishes she could just disappear. Her only salvation is the Lelouch trap series that continues to separate her from Gilbert. What a pathetic way to lose.

Clavis asks Gilbert to wait. In Rhodolite, there is a tradition in these three-game matches for the loser to have one final chance to come out on top. Leon quickly agrees, it’s actually quite standard for the loser to get one final chance in Rhodolite with one final game.

Gilbert notes that Rhodolite is quite friendly to losers.

Clavis reminds Gilbert that he’s the Marshal of Eternal Victory, he will win no matter how many battles he wages. So, what’s he afraid of now? Would it really be so bad to have one last match?

Gilbert considers this and agrees that it would be boring to just end like this. Okay, he’ll be merciful to Emma.

Emma thanks Gilbert profusely, feeling like her head was suddenly yanked back from the chopping block.

Next time she will win for sure.

Current Score: 1 win and 2 losses.

Round 4 – Ms. Bunny Quiz Game

Emma looks at the final sheet of paper, written in Gilbert’s handwriting, and very slowly looks up at him. She asks what he means by ‘Ms. Bunny Quiz Game’.

Well, it’s literally a quiz showdown about Emma. She can ask Gilbert a question about herself, and he will answer it. He kind of thought this would be simple and easily understood.

If Gilbert can answer all three out of three questions, he’ll win. Otherwise, if he gets even one answer not 100% correct, Emma will win.

Emma asks if this isn’t too much of an advantage to her. Since it’s about her, there are things she can ask that Gilbert has no way of answering. Granted, if it was Rio answering instead, she’d be in trouble, but she hadn’t even met Gilbert until she came to the castle.

Gilbert asks if Emma is confident in her win. Emma is, and Gilbert points out that she should be overjoyed at this opportunity to win.

It’s too good to be true. It seems too obvious that Emma will win, but she can’t see the hidden objective.

Gilbert reminds Emma that she can still get help for this final game. He has a refreshing smile on his face, and Emma can’t see through to his evil plan. At times like this, there are only a few people she can rely on.

Sariel and Rio thankfully have some free time and are able to help her. Sariel is not thrilled to find that Gilbert and Emma are playing a game, but Rio assures Emma to leave it to him. He won’t overlook any of Gilbert’s wrongdoing. Gilbert asks what he’s done to make him so mistrusted.

Emma hopes that the two of them will figure out Gilbert’s evil plan that escapes her.

Emma has announced that she has already written down the answers to her questions on the papers before her, so Gilbert can’t say that she’s cheating. She and Rio are the only two who know what the papers say. Sariel is going to monitor Gilbert and make certain that there’s no way for him to peek at them.

Rio is confident that no one is a better master at knowing Emma than he is, and there’s no way for Gilbert to win. Gilbert asks if that’s so, he knows a lot about Emma himself.

Emma suddenly feels anxious, wondering why Gilbert is so confident. Even in this situation, where there is no way Gilbert can cheat, he has not lost his composure. What is going on with him?

First question: There is a place where Emma always buys food when she goes into town. What is it?

Gilbert complains that the question is too easy; she buys sandwiches from a bakery run by her elderly neighbors.

Emma is alerted, she’s only mentioned the place to Rio and the Bookstore Owner. How does Gilbert know? Gilbert only waves his hand and says that it was a lucky guess.

Sariel is doubtful, it was a very specific answer that one can’t just ‘luck into’. There are a lot of rats living inside and outside the castle that need exterminating. Gilbert only laughs.

Okay, so does that mean that there is a spy attached to Emma as well? That answer can’t have been a coincidence, right? Clearing her throat to hide her growing anxiety, Emma proceeds.

Second question: Where is Emma’s favorite place in Rhodolite Castle?

This is her trick question, and if she does have a spy monitoring her, they would have given Gilbert the wrong answer.

Gilbert muses that every day, Emma goes for a walk in the rose garden, which is considered the most spectacular place in the castle. He has no doubt that Emma likes it, but that is too obvious of an answer. If Emma is banking on this question, that means that the real place is something she’s confident Gilbert can’t guess at. So, it’s a secret place that she can’t enter all the time.

Emma is a well-known book lover, but most of the books in the castle library are reference and technical books. There is only one place in the palace that has the kind of books Emma likes – Chevalier’s Secret Library, home of the beast that no one can approach.

Rio is amazed that Gilbert knows about the existence of Chevalier’s secret library. Well, of course, Gilbert knows, basically, everyone does at this point. Besides, Gilbert loves ‘borrowing’ books from Chevalier from time to time, he’s never said anything when Gilbert entered.

Oh, Emma never knew that Chevalier and Gilbert were friends.

Gilbert tells Emma not to be so discouraged and asks what the final question is.

Final question: What is Emma’s special skill?

Emma is confident only Rio and the Bookstore Owner would know.

Gilbert considers her special skill, he doesn’t think that it’s making sweets. Emma agrees, she thinks of it as a hobby rather than a skill. Gilbert personally disagrees, she always makes him delicious sweets.

Oh, he gets it now.

Emma is liked by everyone, right? Today, she had many princes helping her, because they like her. He thinks her personality makes it natural for them to lend her their help, even though they are all such peculiar beasts. It’s a compliment to her that they care so much about her. Besides that, they must all find her very attractive, himself included.

So, Emma’s special skill is her perfect imitation of her butler, Rio.

Emma is off kilter for less than a second before demanding to know what that windup was about, and how did he get from that to her skill? Worse than that, it was what she had written down!

(But how did he out stalk Rio?)

Rio is suspicious and asks if Gilbert was able to peek at the answer sheet. Gilbert insists that he didn’t and asks Sariel to back him up. Sariel is worried that he somehow blinked and missed Gilbert cheating. Gilbert assures Sariel that he was most vigilant in monitoring him. Gilbert never had a chance to cheat.

Really, the natural explanation is that everyone underestimated his obsession with Emma. Turning back to her, Gilbert adds that he wants to know everything about Emma.

Well, how about that?

Oh, how scary! Emma steps back, but Gilbert quickly closes the distance between them and grabs her hand. The Marshal of Eternal Victor has won the game, completely. He tells Emma not to look so scared, he won’t do anything cruel to her.

True or not, since Emma has lost, she can no longer protest. Gilbert entwines their fingers, looking so happy that he might start humming. Emma’s heart is pounding, but is it out of fear or something else?

Worriedly, Rio calls out to Emma while reaching out to her, but suddenly Gilbert’s cloak blocks Emma’s view of him. Gilbert tells the room that their rabbit is now his.

Epilogue – The Winner’s Privilege

After losing the game to Gilbert, brings her to a quiet place so that they are alone. Gilbert reminds her about the terms, the winner can do anything they like with the loser.

Okay, but before that, could Gilbert let go of Emma?

For some reason, after bringing Emma to his room, Gilbert had her sit on his lap facing him while he sits on the sofa. He is holding Emma in his arms and doesn’t let her go. She’s put some room between their bodies, but there’s only so much she can do.

Gilbert reminds her that she lost, so she can’t argue about what he does with her.

Emma considers their position and wonders if that ‘win’ she got out of the gemstone showdown gave Gilbert ideas that she’s going to regret. Thinking of back then, that was not something she should have done to a distinguished foreign guest. However, all the regret in the world won’t turn back the clock.

A cold hand cups her cheek, as if trying to pull Emma out of her thoughts.

As the winner, Gilbert’s privilege is to go on a date with Emma.

Emma is confused and thinks about what he’s saying. It sounds like he wants to go out to the town with her, and asks if he’s sure. Since it’s Gilbert, she was expecting him to demand something far worse of her.

Oh, is Emma under the misconception that this will be a simple outing? Gilbert means the kind of date between a man and a woman. His finger flicks Emma’s earlobe and she reflexively covers it. Fingers run over the back of her hand, tickling it.

Gilbert explains that they will be together in the morning, the afternoon, and at night. Oh, they can also stay out all night long and return the next morning as well. Emma immediately protests, but Gilbert reminds her that he just won their game. Emma just stares at him with a look of horror, waiting for him to laugh and say that he was joking.

The back of Emma’s hand is stroked, and her face grows red. She wishes she can escape from this embarrassing situation, but the arm around her waist won’t let her.

Gilbert laughs, Emma’s face is so red right now. Is her imagination going into dirty places? Emma denies this, and asks what his goal is, first playing those games and then going on this date. Gilbert asks if she has any ideas of why two people would go on a date together.

Emma asks if this is part of his plan to mislead everyone about their relationship and further isolate her from the court. If a rumor about her and the enemy prince spread, it will become even colder for her at court.

Gilbert denies this, he just wants to know more about her. He notes that Emma has a suspicious expression, but he swears that it’s the truth. Emma asks if he’s telling the truth, and Gilbert insists that it is. He just really wants to get along with her. He knows that it doesn’t sound like a big deal to her, but it is one to him. It’s like a treasure.

To be fair, he would be lying if he said that he didn’t hold any malice towards her, but it’s also true that he genuinely enjoys the time they spend together.

Emma looks at Gilbert, but it doesn’t seem like he’s lying. Instead, he has a dazzlingly refreshing smile that makes her chest feel light.

Well? Gilbert thought that a date would be a nice way of spending time together. Emma considers their deal, no matter what, the loser would have no right to veto the winner’s choice.

Maybe Emma can have a little faith in the untrustworthy words of the world’s greatest villain. Truth be told, she doesn’t always hate spending time with Gilbert. Sometimes it’s fun and happy. Of course, there are a lot of painful and difficult times, so it’s not really a treasure for her.

At least, the games they played today might go into the category of ‘a good memory. Emma did have some fun during the day.

Well, that’s a promise then. Gilbert smiles, and leans forward, biting Emma on the cheek. Emma is startled and asks what he thinks he’s doing. Gilbert responds that this is kind of a promise token between them.

Oh, but to have a bite mark in such a place . . . .

Yes, Gilbert agrees that it’s quite prominent. What kind of rumors will spread tomorrow when everyone sees it? Emma begs Gilbert to stop biting people. Gilbert complains that Emma says it like she finds it’s disrespectful, even though he only bites her. She’s special.

As Emma caresses her painful cheek, Gilbert looks satisfied. His face is full of joy, just like a winner. Emma doesn’t know what it means, but when Gilbert is with her he always seems to be having fun. She grumbles that Gilbert is the only person she would just let bite her.

There’s no real meaning in what she just said, it’s only that Gilbert is the winner.

That night Gilbert passes Chevalier in the hallway and asks if he’s returning from official business. Chevalier, who is not at all put out that no one wanted to play with him, asks if Gilbert really spent the day playing games. Gilbert is impressed that Chevalier has already heard about it.

(Why does everyone but Chevalier get to play?)

Chevalier cuts to the point and asks what Gilbert wants. Gilbert only laughs and says that if Chevalier is following him closely, he can probably guess by now.

Chevalier admits that Gilbert’s actions in Rhodolite are incomprehensible. Gilbert asks how Chevalier would react to the idea that his motive is to be incomprehensible.

A man full of contradictions and incomprehensible motives is rare, Chevalier will give him that. Gilbert asks if that’s really how Chevalier sees him, and Chevalier asks if he’s wrong.

With a snort, Chevalier continues walking past Gilbert and leaves.

Gilbert begins to walk away too, but then catches his reflection in the window.

Oh, that’s what Chevalier was talking about.

Gilbert smiles wryly at the reflection in the window. It has an expression of sorrow as if lamenting the coming end. He needs to be careful not to show this face to anyone.

#ikemen prince #ikepri #gilbert von obsidian #event

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