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#and I was mentally not there at all for weeks. I wasn't eating or sleeping or taking care of myself and trying to hold it together for him
spaceratprodigy · 2 months
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something deeply funny abt my bf looking at me and going you realize you're trauma bonded to max right and I said yeah and it's all your fault
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fooltofancy · 1 year
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i'm going to talk to myself morosely in the tags for a bit to see if i can unknot the brain parts, disregard.
#i am. so tired of money dude.#i have insane student debt but i don't have insane OTHER debt and it's still so overwhelming#when i say not insane i mean like <5k#it's still way more than i should because that two fucking months without health insurance really fucked me up#but i can get on top of it with how much im paying for rent and meds and utilities and car payments and car insurance#and having to eat#like im in a much much better place mental health wise than i was but i think maybe ive made a mistake#the ability to cancel my student loans is huge. it's huge and i'm essentially guaranteed that from multiple directions in about three years#but the interim? i knew it was gonna be tight and it's gonna be less tight at some point but the last three months have just been barely#hitting each paycheck not in the hole and having to make car payments late and having to rely on credit for unavoidable overdrafts and#idk what to do lmao#and if the smoke thing w the apartment stays this bad it's gonna continue to negatively impact my health and i literally cant afford to mov#even to somewhere cheaper#i cant afford the initial payments to do that even though it'll be better in the long run#im so stressed and it's negatively impacting my relationships and i cant put my brain into working through my stupid fucking issues because#all in doing is surviving#and it makes me so sad because there's already enough in the world without my adding to it#im just tired dude and it's gonna be another week and a half of just. clenching my jaw and not sleeping#idk what to do dude moving back here WASN'T a mistake but im sure hovering on the line of really really feeling like it was#.... good motivation to do my fucking taxes i guess. like. TOMORROW.#not sure that helped but at least it's not just a weird mass in my chest anymore#and my hand is still fucked up and im never gonna be able to pay to fix it at this rate lmao#at least one of them sort of works.
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battymommastuff · 9 months
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Tw: you don’t have to do this if it makes you uncomfortable but could you do the bat boys with a reader with sh scars maybe on their thighs. You really don’t have to though! Also I love your writing!! Have a good day/night!
Perfect Imperfections
Batmom x Batfamily
TW: Mentions of miscarraige, self harm, and depression!!
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Why was she so patient? Why was she so insistent? These questions kept replaying in Damian's head as he angrily paced the empty batcave. He'd been living at Wayne manor for nearly a year now, and he wasn't having the best time adjusting. His new home life was a struggle. He wouldn't admit it, but he hated having to share his father with his step mother. He also hated how kind you were to him. Talia never treated him with such kindness, so why are you doing the same? Being the mother figure in the house, you should be strict...and harsh with him. 
Instead you were the opposite, and it made him so angry. The second thing he was struggling to adjust to was his school. He was heavily encouraged by his "siblings" to make friends, but no one seemed to want to be friends with him. Instead he was met with judgemental looks, and hushed whispers. Damian hated his new life, and he wanted to go back to his old one. At least he had some respect there. 
All of this led to today's event. You were walking through the manor in search of Damian. Bonding with him had been more of a struggle than any of your other children. You wanted to get to know him and find some connection between then two of you. You found him sitting on his bed crying softly, "Damian?" You called out, startling the boy. He turned towards you with puffy eyes, and a runny nose, "What's wrong?" You asked and reached out to hug him. 
Damian jumped up and put as much distance between the two of you as he could in his room, "It's nothing! Just leave me alone!" He snapped before running from the room. Now he was angrily pacing the Batcave. This sadness and loneliness that he felt made him want to vomit. He constantly felt like a weight was on his chest, and he couldn't get it to go away. Damian wanted to scream...cry...destroy things. He didn't understand what was wrong with him. 
What he didn't know was that you related to him in that way. He didn't figure it out until a week later. It was movie night at the Wayne Manor. Instead of being on patrol, everyone crammed into the living room with their popcorn and drinks. You were the last one to arrive, and you were wearing pajama shorts with a Superman nightshirt on. That causes your husband to pout for a while. Damian noticed several scars on your thighs. They went from the top of your knee and disappeared under your shorts. He could tell that they weren't from battle. No one else seemed to notice or question them. 
All throughout the movie, Damian's focus was on your scars. What did that to you? Was it self-inflicted? Impossible! You always seemed so happy to do something like that to yourself. He then looked back at your face. Did you feel the same things that he felt? 
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"Y/n?" You looked up from your book to see Damian standing in front of you, "The other night...when we were watching the movie. I noticed the scars on your legs." You looked down to your legs which were covered by your pants. You'd completely forgotten that Damian hadn't ever seen them before, "How did you get them? Was it from a fight?" He asked nervously, and felt guilty for even asking in the first place. 
You let out a shaky breath as you set your book down, "I gave them to myself. It was several years ago..." You felt sick to your stomach as you remembered that time. The mental hell you had been in, and was still fighting to this day, "Your father, and I had found out that I was pregnant. I was two months in when I lost it." A tear slipped from your eye as you remembered the pain you felt that night, "After that night, I couldn't eat...I couldn't sleep. All I could do was cry and cry until I felt numb..." Damian moved closer to you, and sat down on the couch with you, "So numb that I wanted to feel something, some feeling that made me feel alive. So I cut myself...over and over." You wiped another tear from your face and sniffled. 
"What made you stop?" 
"It was about a year after adopting Dick. He was such a happy little boy, and he wanted to show me his report card. He didn't know it was the anniversary of us losing the baby, and I didn't know that he was coming home early. He walked in on me cutting my thighs." Damian felt his eyes start to water. He didn't know what came over him, but he launched himself onto you. A hug so tight, it might be choking you. You hugged him back and couldn't help but cry with him once you felt his tears soak into your shirt. You finished telling him the story. About how you started seeing a therapist, and taking medicine to help. Also about how you started getting better despite the several setbacks you had along the way. 
He then opened up to you about how he felt, and you along with the rest of his family helped him get better as they did for you. Four years later, he was walking towards the back of the manor with a bouquet of flowers in his arm. He stopped at a small headstone with other flowers surrounding it. The headstone for the unborn Wayne child. His potential older sibling. Damian set the flowers down before he crouched down in front of the stone, "I learned that there are an infinite number of universes out there, and I know there's one where we got to meet you. This universe never got the chance to, but Ummi told me that you sent us all to her. If that's true, then thank you. For giving me the best mother, and supporter I could ever want."
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mother-honour · 3 months
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Actions have consequences. Simon 'Ghost' Riley X GN Civilian! Spouse! Reader) Part 2
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( A very quick authors note before the fic- HOLY GODAMN CHRIST. I did not expect part 1 to reach so many likes- Ya'll are absolutely amazing ^^) @v1x3n
Summary: You still haven't woken up after that fateful day, and it's tearing him apart.
CW: Simon being an absolute wreck, Price giving hugs, swearing, emotional hurt, heavy angst, hospital visits, in-accurate military stuff, character death (?)
These past three weeks have been nothing but pure torture for Simon.
You still haven't woken up after all this time, and it was tearing him apart. Whenever he couldn't be by your side, he sat at home, silently crying to himself as guilt crushed him on the inside. He didn't eat, he didn't sleep, and he couldn't pretend that everything was normal while you were fighting for your life.
Because of him, he kept reminding himself.
The longer it took, the worse Simon got. He started to make mistakes on the field. Ghost, a well-respected man in his field, was acting like a rookie who just got out of basic training. His head wasn't with the 141; it was always stuck on you. The team had begun to notice as well. Price was the first, of course, knowing Simon as well as he did.
The captain had noticed it the first day he had come back to base. There was something unknown lingering in the lieutenant's eyes, and it was coming to bite him in the ass. After Simon made a mistake that could've caused multiple casualties, Price had enough. "Ghost. My office, now." He spoke sternly after the four of them got back. The lieutenant obeyed automatically, following the price mindlessly. Once the office door clicked behind them, Price turned around to face him.
"Now, you are going to tell me what the hell has been going through that bloody brain of yours." The captain crossed his arms, his form burning with authority as he stared at his lieutenant with hard eyes. "Every since 3 weeks ago, you have been making mistakes left and right." The captain huffed as he ran a hand over his face. His eyes had somewhat softened as he placed a hand on Simon's shoulder.
"Simon, whatever is bothering you, I need you to tell me. As your captain, it is my responsibility that you can do your job properly and keep you safe, no matter if it is physical or mental." It was then that Simon finally broke. He dropped to his knees with an agonizing cry, hot tears streaming down his face as he pounded his fist into the floor. "ITS ALL MY FAULT!" He yelled between harsh sobs.
"ITS ALL MY FUCKING FAULT PRICE! IF I HADN'T SAID ANYTHING-" Strong arms wrapped around Simon as he reached his breaking point, pulling him close as the comforting voice of Price filled his ears. "I got you, son. I got you." Simon's breath hitched as he let himself cry into his captain's shoulder. He didn't care about being professional right now; he just needed comfort.
And right now, Price was the one to give him that.
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After letting his heart out to Price, he allowed Simon to take the week off. 'You need it more than ever, Simon.' Price had said as he escorted him outside of the base. 'Just make sure to screw your head back on before you get back?' Simon couldn't help but let out a forced chuckle at his captain's last statement, leaving to go back to you shortly after. He had the steering wheel in an iron grip, his knuckles turning white as he drove down the road.
The same road leads to your shared house.
The same road you drove on before-
The booming horn of a truck came from Simon's left, snapping him out of his thoughts as he swung just in time to avoid the crash. His eyes were wide, and his palms were sweating as he looked back at the truck that was speeding off into the distance. Simon shook his head firmly as he focused back on the road, the agonizing voice in his head screaming at him that, in an alternate scenario, you would've been able to come back home safe.
Simon pressed the gas, surely going over the speed limit as he came closer and closer to his destination. He bolted out of the car and towards the front desk as soon as the tired came to a stop, scaring the shit out of the elder lady who was just enjoying a cup of tea. Her wide eyes softened once she recognized the man who had come here every day to visit you.
She didn't even need to say anything as she nodded toward the left, allowing him to proceed further without writing anything down. Gratitude flashed in Simon's eyes as he ran down the halls, up the stairs, to the 4th floor.
He almost stumbled over his own feet as he reached your room, swiftly opening the door as the beeping of a heart monitor met his ears. There you were, still lying in bed with an oxygen mask over your face. Most of your wounds have healed up; only parts of your body are being bandaged up now. Simon's feet guided him towards the bed, tears welling up in his eyes as he once again sat down on the chair next to your bedside.
"Hey, love." He spoke softly while taking your hand in his. "Sorry for taking so long this time." Simon swallowed thickly. "The captain has given me some time off, which means I get to spend more time with you." His body began to shake as his bottom lip trembled.
"I'd love to treat you to lunch. We could go to your favorite place. With the silly black cat, you love so much." Simon's voice began to crack, hot tears streaming down his face as he held onto your hand. "I miss you so much, baby. Please… come back to me." He pleaded between sobs. You, however, remained unresponsive, the soft sounds of your breathing being the only thing to answer him.
Simon stayed by your bedside for the next 5 hours, talking to you and even telling some of his awful jokes to keep the one-sided conversation going. A part of him hoped that somehow you'd be able to hear him. Around 7 p.m., the same elderly nurse who had greeted and helped Simon whenever he came to visit you came into the room.
"It's time to go home, Mr. Riley." She spoke softly. Simon swallowed as he nodded. He stood up from the chair as he bent down to press a kiss on your forehead. "I'll be here again tomorrow, love." Simon moved himself away from the bed, passing the elderly nurse as he made his way towards the door.
"…Simon?"
Simon froze.
His hand hovered over the doorknob as his eyes widened. He heard the elderly nurse gasp, accompanied by a pair of quick footsteps going towards the bed. Your bed. Simon turned around agonizingly slowly, his own eyes filled with shock, as he was met with the sight that he had longed for ever since you ended up here.
You were looking at him, those big eyes he came to love filling with tears as you reached out to him.
It was then that Simon's heart started to beat again.
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nyashykyunnie · 3 months
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˗ˏˋ Sung Jinwoo x Terminally ill Reader ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ
‼️[ TW: Terminal Illness, Angst to Fluff, Solo Leveling Spoilers ]
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅ Part 2 || Part 1 ♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.
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���┈➤ ❝ [ We'll Try This Again, Begin Again with Zero. But This Time? I'm Never Letting You Go. ] ¡! ❞
Living felt more like a punishment more than anything. The pain he goes through starts feeling more and more deserving in his eyes. He was pushing himself to the limits when he shouldn't, he's punishing himself over a sin that wasn't really his fault.
But if anyone tells him that, he wouldn't look back at them. He would ignore their concerns.
He has a duty to uphold anyway, a duty that only he can do as a monarch.
Jinwoo has ultimately grown to be a vessel of war thanks to the system.
He didn't really care much, he already placed insurance to his name if anything happens to him.
When he's gone, his remaining family would atleast live off of something.
He has already watched his father die too thanks to the godforsaken monarchs.
What more can he loose?
Over and over again, he puts himself in the battlefield, exhausting himself on purpose, never even sleeping nor eating.
He was just fighting like a dog.
Well, dog's get much more care than what he does to himself, so does it really count?
It doesn't matte,r Jinwoo physically cannot be exhausted.
But mentally? It's a different story.
He wasn't really depressed, at least, that's what he tells himself.
He really felt numb, not exactly sad, not exactly happy either. It's as if his emotions lie in the middle.
Jinwoo felt hollow, completely hollow.
As if he were merely nothing more than a puppet in war.
The only thing that really urges him to move forward is the distant sound of his beloved's voice in the back of his head.
And soon, after he had finally murdered the Monarch of Destruction— He would be granted a wish.
Battered and tired while on the floor, he thought of what he could possibly ask from the rulers.
Thought of?
No, Jinwoo already knew what he wanted.
It was to turn back time.
To meet old friends again, to stop the gates from opening, to have his family whole again
,... To meet you again.
Yes. That's right. All of this was for you anyway.
Jinwoo recalls that memory very clearly, how you were still in the hospital bed and you two were playing a game of cards while he tells you about how he plans to be a hunter soon.
Your words were quite cute really: "I hope Woowoo becomes a really strong man!"
Those silly, innocent words of yours.
Up to this day, he still smiles lovingly whenever he remembers that.
He became this strong not just for himself and his family who needs him, but for you, the brave little soul who endured that illness—
Jinwoo fought for you
And since he is given the opportunity to correct the past, he requiested for time to be rewinded.
Right then and there, a brilliant flash of white would engulf the earth, bathing it in all it's glory. eradicating all traces of the lifeforms and shadows there is to this pathetic universe. For once in a million years, the earth was beautiful again. It looked like a star gleaming along with countless others.
Soon, Jinwoo would wake up to the sound of his baby sister's calling. Jinwoo would sit up, gently smiling at her.
It took a while for everything to sink in, for everything for him to realize that this? All of this was reality.
How badly he wanted to find you in the time he spent, for just a few weeks, he enjoyed being a child again.
Laughing with friends, screaming at others for a vanguard or healer in the pc cafe— He wanted to find you in an instant. But not right now.
He took care of some stuff first.
Your illness wont awaken until then after all.
27 years, he spent time in that goddamn dimensional crack fighting monarchs and all that crap.
When he was done, he finally came home.
Just as he set foot back in earth again, he went straight to the hospital.
April 9th of spring, where the pink petals bloomed and flew around the air— This beautiful but tragic day.
Was the first time you had collapsed and coughed out blood.
It started with your lungs, to your kidneys, to your heart, to everywhere.
You had metastatic cancer.
Coughing up blood was only the start.
And Jinwoo had come home just in time.
He didn't even ask for directions, he just went straight to your hospital room.
He knew this godforsaken place better than the doctors and nurses himself after all.
As he pried open the door, there you were, resting on the bed staring absentmindedly at the pink trees outside your window. When yopu heard the sound of the door, you turned your attention to Jinwoo.
Dazzling and innocent eyes, just as he remembers. Your youthful face, free of any sign of wrinkles. Still chubby and plump that he wanted to just kiss your cheeks all over.
As you called out his name, Jinwoo marched over and embraced you tightly.
"I'm sorry, it took me a while" Jinwoo whispers ever so lovingly as he rubs the b ack of your head affectionately.
You were confused at first, wondering why your best friend is acting all cuddly and sappy when he totally did not disappear off of the face of the earth and come out of nowhere like some sort of boogey man. But regardless, you can't help but notice the traces of tears about to break from lovely grey eyes.
When you reached over to touch his face, his voice broke and he started crying almost instantly.
Panicked and confused, you pulled him to a tight hug.
Jinwoo was crying, and in his tears and broken voice you could hear the amount of anguish he had been bottling up, the brokenness in his heart finally being revealed in the open for you to hear and see. It felt as if Jinwoo was carrying a hundred years worth of burden. And you could do nothing more than to soothe him.
"I'm sorry... Ditching you out of nowhere and acting like a sappy pup wo got kicked" He chokes as he chuckles gently, "I promise, promise, that I won't leave you like that anymore. Just trust me, okay? Here, drink this."
He hands you a weird fantasy-potion thing with red liquid inside. You wanted to deny him of it but Jinwoo stubbornly insisted upon it, as if your life depended on it.
Well, tehnically speaking, it did depended on that potion.
After making sure you gulped down every single drop of the crimson liquid, Jinwoo pressed his forehead against yours.
Mumbling ever so sweetly; "Let's do this again, okay? You and me, goofing around. I'll let you eat as much sweets as you like, I'll show a lot of pretty things. Don't worry about anything else, Woowoo will take care of it."
Somehow, you felt that Jinwoo meant that on a deeper level. You felt like right now, what in front of you wasn't just anyone else, but someone ready to lay down their life for your sake. The person in front of you, you felt as if he was going to follow you to the ends of the earth to the stars above your heads. Somehow, it feels as if his words was a promise that he would follow you wherever you go.
He already lost you once, damned will he be if that happens again.
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thehusbandoden · 10 months
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You Flinch During an Argument -Hawks
My confidence for this series is like at a 2 outta 10 but I can't really take it back now sooo ig I'll just continue to write. I hope someone's enjoying it </3
Hurt to Comfort | 1,097 words
Warnings!: Mentions of arguing, flinching, mention of someone beating up on themselves (Hawks), Hawks' name used. Let me know if I miss any <3
Dabi | Hawks | Todoroki Shoto | Bakugo Katsuki | Midoriya Izuku | Shigaraki Tomura | Aizawa Shota | Amajiki Tamaki | Kirishima Eijiro | Shinso Hitoshi
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Gif credit: @tatakaeeren
His heart will stop as soon as he sees you recoiling from him.
He was planning on simply taking your hand to ground you both.
He'll softly ask if you're okay and what you need from him.
You need him to leave you alone? Sure thing, he'll be busy cussing himself out in the kitchen- doing those stupid dishes the argument started.
Want comfort? Don't worry, he'll hold you for hours upon hours, accomanying each peck with a soft apology.
He'll get very upset with himself and will be very reserved and somewhat cold for the next week or so.
He keeps thinking back to that one movement from you.
And no matter what he was planning on doing and how you said that you knew he wasn't going to hurt you, he can't get the idea that you flinched because of him out of his head.
You finally have enough when he leaves for a mission and only gives you a peck on the lips, no extra cuddles, kisses, hugs, compliments, or tickle fights the entire week he was preparing to leave.
Right as he was saying his goodbye his eyes were as cold as ever, holding no liveliness in the honey depths.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" You pout, crossing your arms across your chest.
And that was quite normal for the two of you.
He would chuckle and swoop you in his winged embrace, kissing your lips before inhaling the scent of your shampoo, kissing your forehead as he did so. "I love you, and I miss you already", "You're so goregous.. don't find someone better when I'm gone, mkay?", "I cannot wait to see your smiling face when I get back" were some of the things he would whisper to you as he hugged you, mentally bracing himself for the long week or more that he would be apart from you.
But now? All he did was glance around before giving you a negative response, informing you he had everything.
"A-aren't you going to kiss me?" You ask, emotions getting the best of you.
He then came and gave you a small, fleeting peck to the lips before heading out with another hushed 'goodbye'.
You then labored to figure out how to help him for the next three weeks, until he finally came home to you.
As Keigo's hand made its way towards you you recoiled back out of instinct, not fear. You would never fear your Keigo.
But did he know that?
Terror consumed Keigo as soon as he saw you flinch.. were you.. scared of him?
His heart beat faster against his chest as sweat protruded from his body... you were scared of him... he scared you.
Forcing himself to get a grip and focus on you, Keigo weakly asked, "Y-y/n... did you think I was going to hit you?"
You immedietly shook your head no, and made your way to him, one hand on his cheek. "No baby, I know you would never hit me. I don't know why I flinched, I guess it was just instinct. I'm not scared of you."
"O-oh.. well do you want me to leave you alone or.."
"I would love it if you would cuddle me. We can talk more later, right now we both just need one another." At that, Keigo nodded before making his way towards your shared bedroom, holding your hand in his trembling one.
Since then, Keigo has been a wreck.
He doesn't eat properly, he doesn't sleep properly, and he's not his usual chipper self. He's a lot more cold towards you, sitting on the other side of the living room instead of right next you, he does the dishes, laundry, vaccuming, and any other kind of chore you can think of without playfully bantering with you like usual, he avoids starting arguments, always just agreeing to whatever you were saying, and he hardly touches you.
If you want a kiss before he goes to work, you need to ask for one, and then you'll get a small peck on the lips, and sometimes just your forehead.
You want cuddles after having a nightmare? You're going to have to deal with you clinging onto him for comfort while he awkwardly rubs your shoulders.
He's miserable, punishing himself for a simple reaction from you.
~~
"I'm leaving y/n." Keigo called, picking up his bags and suitcase, entirely ready to leave.
"Wait! Wait!" You exclaim, dashing into the enterance way. "Aren't you forgetting something?"
"I have everything needed for the trip." Keigo muttered, honey eyes cold.
As Keigo turned to leave your emotions went out of whack, Keigo is really messed up if he won't kiss you before a three week mission.
"C-can I get a kiss?" You ask quietly, emotions ready to leak any minute.
Keigo just walked towards you, pecking your lips once, before walking out of the door with a quick "goodbye".
As soon as the door closed you fell onto your knees, overcome with emotions. Your Keigo was truly broken. He hadn't even said 'I love you'.
~
Three weeks later Keigo came home, and you had a plan in mind. You would simply sit him down and have a talk with him, ask him what's bothering him, get him to talk, comfort him, and then reassure him. Then, things would be back to normal.
But that bird just had to ruin all of your hardwork.
As soon as Keigo stepped through the door he jumped on top of you, dropping the two of you onto the livingroom floor.
"K-Keigo?"
"Oh y/n I am so so sorry! I was so focussed on my worry about you that they sent me home and then I decided to go take a vacation and clear my head- and I realized how cold I've been to you! I didn't even give you a kiss- or, or say I love you- y/n I am so very very sorry." Keigo exclaimed, burying his face into your chest pitifully.
"Oh baby what changed? I was going to sit you down and make you talk it out unil you were normal again."
"I thought about it over and over again- and I realized that you're not acting scared of me. If you were you would be quiet and would want to stay away from me and not start those silly arguments you keep tryin' to pull." Keigo pouted, pecking your lips once he was done talking.
"Keigo.. you still haven't said it."
"Said wha- oh I love you! I love you, I love you, I love you!~"
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Tips <3
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Reblogs help spread and support my work, but any support is appreciated <33
Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way, minus reblogging.
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c0eu4 · 7 months
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CL16 | Depress girlfriend ☁︎
Summary: Charles comes back to his shared house after three weeks of intense race. But the thing he didn't expect is to find her girlfriend having a relapse.
Warning: Fluff, depression, hurt/comfort
A/N: Here, we talk about depression and some things that it creates : lack of hygiene, not taking care of yourself..
MASTERLIST requests are open
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Depression, that thing that destroys life.
She's under the covers, the rain is hitting the living room windows and her eyes are heavy. Her legs hurt and her stomach growls.
She would scare anyone. Her eyes are red from tears, her lips irritated, her hair messy and dirty. Anyway. She's depressed.
The door of her apartment opens, and she knows it's her favorite Monegasque.
He opens the shutters and sits next to her, giving her a big hug.
''Have you relapsed?'' He asked, softly to not fear her. His hands moving up and down in her back and hair.
She doesn't answer and puts her forehead against his shoulder. She feels tears coming back in her eyes and cry, again. She sob uncontrollably, her body shaking and releasing all the stress she accumulated during the few weeks ago.
His grip around her gets tighter and he puts his cheeks against her hair, knowing that he just has to wait to let her calm down. He keeps rubbing her back until she finally manages to cry less. She separates from him, keeping her head down and can't even look at him in the eyes.
''I-I'm- sorry..'' She said with a weak and shaky voice. Charles put his hand on her cheek, lifting her head up.
''Mon amour.. There is nothing to be sorry about..'' She restarted to cry like a little baby. Charles kissed her tears until they finally stop.
''Have you taken your medicines princess?'' He asked her, trying to not put pressure on her.
She shakes her head as a no. His eyebrow frowned.
''Why bébé ? Talk to me please..'' He stoked her hair with his right hand, keeping his left hand on her cheek.
''I-I..'' She gibberish, tears coming back in her eyes.
''It's ok.. take your time..'' He tries to reassure her and make her talk to him. He hates to see her like that. Since she no longer takes her anti-depressants, she sometimes has days when she feels low. But this time, it's a big relapse. Especially since Charles wasn't there for her because of his three intensive weeks of racing.
She takes her time like he said, taking deeps breaths to calm herself down.
''The reason is stupid..'' She finally managed to say.
''Nothing is stupid when we talk about your mental health chérie.'' He stokes her cheek with his thumb.
''I.. uhm.. It's just that... I had a lot of homework to do and I was lost.. you weren't there to help me and it was like.. I was just incapable of doing my homework.. And I got a very bad grade... then another one... And here I am now..'' She said, trying to not sob again.
He kissed her forehead.
''It's ok chérie. It happens to have some bad grades.''
He retakes her in a comfortable hug and strokes her hair.
''When was the last time you ate ?''
She takes a little time to answer him.
''Maybe two or three days.''
His eyes widened and he put his hands on her shoulders, pulling him back from the hug.
''This is really bad y/n.'' His voice was more firm than he expected. She immediately cried again, looking at the ground, ashamed.
''I'm sorry... I'm so sorry...''
He takes her again in his warm arms, whispering sweet words to her ear.
''No no no no, don't cry chaton.. It's ok.. You know what ? I'm going to carry you to the kitchen and make you a delicious dinner, ok ?''
She nodded against his shoulder, feeling one of his arms going under her knees to lift her up from the couch. She moaned slightly in pain because of her weakness, her whole body hurting.
He walked her to the kitchen, making her sit on a chair, in front of the wooden table. She looks at him making some pasta, her eyes heavy and half closed.
''Mon amour, don't sleep, you need to eat.''
She keeps her eyes open. Charles talked to her the whole time he was doing the pasta, to keep her awake. He knows how much she usually likes his voice and his french accent. Especially when he was talking directly to her. He talked to her about his weeks. When him and Carlos went to paddle, when he was doing his track walk, all the fans he met...
After about twenty minutes, he placed a plate in front of you, full of pasta with tomato sauce. He gives you a fork and a spoon. He put a glass full of water up to your plate.
''Try to drink a bit before eating.'' He sits in front of you with his own plate full of pasta.
She took the glass and slowly drank the water, her throat hurting her.
She caught and started to eat her pasta, Charles looking at her with love in his eyes. Even when she was at her lower, when she was looking like a zombie, when her hair was dirty and messy, when her lips weren't healthy, he was still loving her.
They eat together, slowly. She feels her empty stomach full of food and it makes her feel better.
After their little dinner, he takes her to the bathroom. He undresses her, with her consent, like if she was a little child. He undresses himself and makes her sit in the bathtub filled with warm water. He sits behind her, her back against his chest. He keeps her close to him, stroking her waist and thighs. He helped her to wash her body and her hair.
When they were done with the shower, he dried her hair with a dryer and braid it. He brings her underwear, a short and one of his hoodies, her favorite one. She put everything on, without help this time, feeling already a bit stronger than this morning.
He carried her with his big arms on his shoulder, making her giggle and chuckle. He was so happy to hear her little laugh after so much time away from her. He put her down in their bed, laying next to her. She quickly hugged him and he hugged her back, his hands stoking her back. She bury her nose in his neck, smelling his scent.
''Good night mon chat.'' He kissed the top of her head, nuzzled his nose in her hair.
''Good night Charlie.'' She kissed his neck with a warm and wet kiss and quickly fell asleep in the arms of her lover.
605 notes · View notes
sameschmidtdiffname · 3 months
Note
heyyyy can I pls req something where Mike tries to make it up to the reader after he says something wrong in their 1st fight as a couple? like “I don’t want to lose you” as an apology and they get back together or something along those lines? tysm I really enjoy ur work :))
But of course!!!
Wanting, Waiting
Mike Schmidt x Gender Neutral! Reader
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Summery: Overworked and underfed, you'll go to sleep once some decent work is complete. However, a late night turns into a day long fight.
Tags: No use of Y/N, no gender specific pronouns for Reader, pre-established relationship, argument, cursing, Reader and Mike both got some shit going on, hints of an eating disorder, overworking, hurt/comfort, crying, mentions of: suicide/death, depression, drugging, and kidnapping. Vulnerability is gross.
Notes: 'Slip' walked so this could run full speed into a brick wall. I feel as though I may have redeemed myself.
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This page is mocking me.
The hour is late. I stopped checking the clock around 2:00 A.M., and there's a cup of cold coffee right next to me on this table, several rings on the inside from where the coffee had been left sitting far too long. It's cheap, the flavor sticking to my teeth in a way that settles my lips into a slight grimace as I try to convince my hand to move my pen across the just as cheap notebook paper that has been sitting in front of me since I came home.
Come on. It's words. What the fuck is hard about this?
'It's not hard if you can actually get your head out of your ass and do something,' I think to myself. Not helping.
I have an irritating collection of drafts. Oh yes, I can start them and I can certainly plan out the works before me. But actually writing is somehow impossible, and even though I can feel how thick the block is in my mind, preventing me from communicating my feelings properly, I just can't get break myself out of it.
Come on. Finish one draft. Then everything will click together for the rest.
For the past few weeks it's been just like this. Come home, sit down with projects, and try. But no matter what I do, I just can't focus. It's as though my head simply won't allow it. And this house, quite frankly, isn't helping. It's admittedly unsettling atmosphere, the loud noises born from nothing. It's as though I can feel the weight of the dead that used to sit at the same glass table as I watching me over my shoulder, pressing their non-existent weight against me, making my chest tight with pressure I cannot voice because that's not fair to the ones still here truly haunted by their presence. I'm just a guest who overextends their stay, quite frankly.
Just a page. Just write a page and you can get up for a moment. Ignore how loud the fridge is at something clunks inside of it.
A page. Get a page. Come on, you imbecile, how hard is a fucking pa-
"I thought we talked about this."
It's a testament to my mental state how high I manage to jump in my chair, my tired and over-caffinated heart set off to make me dizzy with over exertion from fear, turning to see who has come to voice their thoughts and damn us both with them.
"Mike," I sigh. I place a hand on my chest, rubbing slightly at the spot where I feel my heart pounding against my sore ribs. "Don't do that."
"Have you slept at all?" Mike asks disapprovingly. His arms are crossed against his chest, heavy bags under his eyes from another night of restless dreams. He can't sleep, I won't sleep. If he'd allow it, we could actually get shit done this time of day.
"A little," I lie. He's just worried. About everything. He always is, which at first was something I loved about him. And usually I still do. It's an admirable trait, to care about someone and love them so much it's only natural to fret over them, to check and make sure they're taken care of properly.
Except it makes me feel guilty.
"Oh yeah? What time?" He asks, narrowing his sleep swollen eyes at me.
Details. Fuck.
"Ah, uh- I don't know, I wasn't looking at the clock," I say sheepishly, trying to flash a disarming smile and make my own bags look like ones of bare minimum rest instead of self neglect. Mike's jaw tightens slightly.
"Oh?" He says in a dull voice that is not raised, yet managed to ring throughout the room nonetheless.
I hum affirmatively, pressing my lips together and fiddling with the cheap pen in my hands, glancing down at it in an attempt at trying not to give myself away.
"Yeah, I don't know. Just like, laid my head on the book and... y'know... drifted off for a couple hours," I try to say casually.
"Ah," he says as though that were enough, leaning now against the doorframe of the hallway, looking at the other wall as though the paint were interesting. "How long after I went to bed, do you think?"
Keep your breathing even. He can smell fear. "Like, a couple," I answer with a shrug.
"Or, like, not at all," he says, turning his head back to stare down at me with a glare.
"I slept," I insist.
"Bullshit. You give me unnecessary detail about your shits post mexican take-out, but you can't tell me what time you fell asleep?" He says accusingly.
"I was asleep! I'm sorry, do you want me to lie and give some time because you need it for some reason?" I ask evenly, shrugging as though to ask what he'd like me to say, blinking at him and adding a tired tinge of a croak to my voice to match his.
"I'm sorry?" He asks, eyes still in narrow slits yet somehow widening slightly, his leg uncrossing from over the other and planting firmly on the floor as he stands straight.
He's not that tall. Kinda short. But he looks much bigger when mad. Kinda like an iguana. I told him that one time and got bit. Jokingly, of course. It's not like he'd just reach over and sna- You know what? Irrelevant.
"I'm just saying," I say, starting to turn back to my notebook as though the conversation were finished.
"No-no, I'd like to hear that again," he says. I can hear his footsteps pad against the flat, tan carpet, my shoulders stiffening slightly as I train my decreasingly neutral eyes on the wrinkled, lined paper in front of me. "I liked the part where you made me sound like some insecure teenager for calling you out on your shit. Very original."
My lips press into a thin line, my grip on my pen tightening slightly.
"It's not that serious, Mikey-"
"Don't bullshit me, and don't use some cheap nickname as a cop out via sympathy," Mike snaps, standing now on the opposite side of the table, pressing his hands now against the glass surface that dirties so easily. Trust me, we've had to clean some prints off of it.
There's a line, and at some point I'm going to cross it. The problem is it's hidden under mental sand that makes me unclear of exactly where it is.
"Michael-"
"That's formal," he says, leaning forward on the table, his tone the same as an interrogating mother just waiting for the moment where no one will blame her for finally tearing you to shreds for what you've said to her outwardly innocent statements. A trap.
"I'm sorry, I thought you didn't like cheap nicknames?" I say, fighting the irritation in my voice, barely managing to remain even as I click my pen to begin writing.
"What's wrong with just Mike?" He asks. He reaches across the table, placing all five of his fingertips on my paper firmly and dragging it back across the table towards him, withholding it from me.
"Would you like me to use just Mike?" I ask.
"I'd like you to make eye contact while you lie through your fucken teeth," he says calmly, not moving as he continues to stare me down.
"Okay, Mike. And what exactly does my sleep schedule mean to you?" I ask slowly, trailing my eyes from his hand, slowly up his arm with pronounced veins and muscles, to the white cotton shirt that was two sizes too large and usually what he wore to sleep in, until I meet his dark and slightly hateful eyes.
"We had a conversation," he starts.
"A conversation," I repeat.
"About a month ago, do you remember?" He asks, cocking his head slightly in that way it does when we both know I'm not going to dare to answer with anything other than he wants.
"You ha-"
"I had a concern," he interrupts me, now looking down at the notebook and studying it as though it were a piece of fine art. "Which involved how absolutely awful your ability is to take care of yourself properly."
"Mike-"
"Shut. Up." Mike says with disturbing calmness. "I'm talking."
Fine.
"It's fucking rude."
Not saying it's not.
"Like your attitude when I try to just help you because clearly, you can't help yourself," he says, now slapping down the notebook to gesture at me as though it were obvious why he was concerned.
I could speak. I'd like to. And he gives me a long enough silence I could. But instead I decide I will simply give him the floor.
"No opinion on this?" He asks shortly.
"No," I say with a dismissive shrug. "You seem to have them for me."
Mike laughs at this statement, and if the sparkle in his eyes didn't seem to have the same dull shine as the glass table between us I'd feel a bit better about it. But I think there's a six foot hole in the backyard I just signed a lease on that makes his disturbingly convincing smile much more worrisome.
"You're funny," he says affectationately. "Get up."
"What?" I ask, blinking.
"Are you deaf now? Up," he says in irritation, beginning to cross back around the table. "This isn't a negotiation."
Before I can speak his hands dig in under my armpits, roughly pulling me to stand and bringing me close to his chest. I should have energy to fight back, I've only been sitting after all. But a physical confrontation would be too loud, first of all. Abby is asleep in her room, and I don't want to make a scene to wake the poor child. Number two, my bones are sore, my head is aching and I generally just do not feel well enough to protest. Physically.
"Put me down, you son of a bitch!"
Verbally, I'm fine.
"You're going to bed, that's final!"
"I have twelve drafts due that I have to get done or else this project-"
"You have four hours of sleep you can get before you have to take your candy ass to work in the fucken morning, or else I'm gonna beat it into you," he hisses directly in my ear, his breath cold and loud so close to me. Jesus, fuck. What did his parents feed him as a child? It shouldn't be this easy for him.
"Oh, I don't do what you want and now you threaten physical violence. Very mature," I mock, reaching out to grip the doorframe of Mike's bedroom, purely to piss him off.
"Save me the dramatics," he snaps in a whisper, wrapping one arm tighter around my waist and using the other to bat my hands away from the frame. I can tell he's genuinely trying not to hurt me, his grip on one wrist firm but careful.
"Just let me write one page," I try.
"That's what you said last night," he says, still trying to pull my hand away. My nails have dug into the frame, making it slightly harder. I can sense his irritation growing. "You got two hours of sleep."
"That's not going to kill me," I argue.
"You haven't slept for more than two hours in a week," he says.
One nail breaks against the frame, making me lose my grip and sending pain down my arm from the awkward angle at which the pressure had snapped it off. I wince slightly, which gives Mike slight pause as he checks my hand, but decides I'm alright before he begins dragging me towards the bed in earnest.
"Why is it so hard for you to just take care of yourself?" Mike asks in frustration.
"I take care of myself!" I say defensively. Mike drops me onto the bed, standing in front of me to prevent any new attempts at escape.
"No, you don't," he says, quiet but firm. "You sit and stare at your notebook and you don't do anything else if you can help it. You sleep for two hours, you go to work, you hardly eat, you don't have energy anymore." Mike's hands are planted firmly on his hips, his nostrils flailing as he tries to take collected, calm breaths. "I care about you. Why can't you?"
"Michael-"
"Stop!" Mike snaps, groaning and turning away from me with a sharp spin on his heel. He buries his hands in his hair in frustration, now pacing between the bed and the door, quietly shutting it so we can argue in peace.
"Why are you so upset?" I ask, genuinely confused.
"Because I don't want to see you live like this. I am concerned and every time I bring it up you dismiss me, you joke, you don't care and I hate that," Mike says, temporarily stopped in his tracks to point at me as he seethes. "I'm watching you waste away and you know what? I'm starting to think part of you likes it."
"Excuse me?" I say, astounded. I cross my arms in front of my chest, cocking my head at him in a way to say 'I dare you to repeat that.'
"You heard me," Mike says, taking a step towards me. "It's like you cannot for one iota of a second conceive of some world where taking care of yourself is a good use of your time. You work, and work until you've burned yourself out so horribly you rot in bed for a month. And unless you're staying here, I hear nothing from you. Not a call, not a fuck you or whatever. It's like you're punishing yourself."
"Now who's being dramatic?" I say.
"See? I can't even point this out without you getting defensive, which just shows you know you're in the wrong!" Mike turns away from me once more, resuming his path of restless walking.
"Why do you even care?" I ask genuinely. This makes him pause again, his glare once more returning to me as he mentally questions my intelligence.
"You know what, I don't know!" Mike snaps, his voice gaining volume. "You are insistent in this fucking- slow method suicide and I'm trying to help you, but you won't let me!"
"I never asked you to care," I scoff, rolling my eyes.
"I never asked to care!" Mike nearly shouts, leaning in close to my face and sneering at me.
This breaks the tension.
His face falls as soon as the words are out of his mouth, his eyes widening slightly like my own eyes. This comment shouldn't really sting. I shouldn't let it. But it does. And for a moment, I do. And he sees that clearly.
"... oh," I say softly, my arms relaxing and shoulders sagging ever so slightly as I drop his gaze, trying to shut off my emotions before they're obvious.
"I'm sorry," Mike says quickly, stumbling to his knees in front of me. "I didn't mean that-"
"It's fine," I say, trying to remain as blank as my pages on the kitchen table.
"I just said it to be hurtful," Mike says quickly, his hand reaching up to cup my face. I take it away, turning my head to the side slightly. There's a new chill in the air, one I can feel seizing my chest.
"You weren't," I say. "I'm going to sleep."
"Please, I don't want-"
"I'm going to sleep," I say forcefully, shoving him away and turning to begin undressing from my work clothes that I still wore. Mike is silent behind me, probably thinking, and I'm close to not being able to hold myself together anymore.
"Get out!" I snap, flinging my shirt at him in a rage and beginning to stand from the bed to chase him out. He doesn't need anymore prompt, quickly scurrying out from the room to wherever it is he'll sleep now. Probably on the couch even though there's another room down the hall. A self induced punishment. Knowing him he probably won't even allow himself a blanket or pillow, feeling the cold air fitting for his selfishness.
Good.
-
When I wake that morning, I can smell breakfast in the air. My stomach hurts from skipping meals, but I don't want to eat. First of all, I haven't worked for a meal. There's still plenty to be done with my drafts. And food is a good encouragement to keep working. Second, I didn't ask him to care. And he didn't ask for it either. There probably isn't enough for me, and if there is, he and Abby can debate between the two who will have it. I need to shower.
I take forever washing myself. If that's what you want to call it. It was moreso standing under hot water, letting it run cold until I couldn't stand it anymore and hoping my deodorant is able to do some heavy lifting today. I barely have enough time to get to work, passing silently by Mike and not turning when he calls my name, walking out the door as fast as I can without running.
He follows me outside, something shaking in a bag behind me. When I finally open my car door I'm forced to have my gaze in his direction, his body between the door frame and my car door, presenting me with a bag of lunch.
"Please eat," he begs, placing the bag in my lap unceremoniously and then quickly stepping away and shutting the door himself.
There's a small moment where he and I just share at each other through the glass, time slipping away without notice. He hasn't slept, he'll be late for work if he doesn't get dressed soon, and the bag on top of my thighs is warm. Fresh. A petty part of me wants to roll down my window and throw away the meal, back out of the drive way and let that fester in his mind out of hate. He thinks words can hurt? Actions are so much worse.
But there's something in his eyes. Defeated, resigned. Childlike is almost the word I could use. In front of my car is the 12 year old boy who tried to chase down his brother, the 18 year old who decided to sacrifice his life raising his little sister while saying goodbye to his parents, and the 27 year old man who's just trying to keep everything together.
I don't know what to say to this child. Or to the man.
So, with the turn of my key in the ignition, I don't.
-
It's late when I come home. When the manager had asked me to stay late I almost called Mike to break the silence and tell him this. But there was still a part of me that didn't care whether or not he knew. Really, I didn't have to return home tonight. I could go back to my apartment and just let him rot in bed the way he claims I do. How could he say such a thing, anyways? I rot in bed? What about the days I've walked into the house and he hasn't slept all week, where he's claiming he's trying to kick his medication and he'll get the hang of it soon. Where his sister is eating every meal almost burnt because he can't think straight enough to remember time. Where I've had to coax, beg, demand of him that he just takes a pill because he's laying on the side of the bed, small and curled in on himself, dead eyed and obviously tired but still not sleeping. One time I slipped it into his food. And I felt awful. Do not think for a moment I wanted to do that. There was a betrayel in his eyes when sleep began to overtake him. I hoped he wouldn't notice, but he must've. Some tell in the drugs effect that made him aware his rest was not voluntary. But I didn't care. I stroked his hair through the night, and I'll do it again. He could hate me however long he needed to, he just needed sleep first.
The irony still hasn't struck me when I walk through the door of his house, well past dinner, Abby in the bath. The door was left unlocked, which is unusual for this time of night. Mike jumps from the couch the minute I open the door, standing with his hands by his side anxiously pulling at the edge of his oversized sweater.
Everything's oversized with him. The thought occurs to me that his father was slightly bigger.
"Don't leave me," he says quietly, his voice small and pathetic like him. But I don't say that with hate.
"I just got home," I say. "Be a bit odd to leave again."
I try a smile, but it's artificial and we both know it's only for his comfort. It doesn't touch him, his eyes glassy and lips slightly parted the same way a child's is when they're trying to breathe as their sinuses spring to life in wake of forming tears.
"I didn't mean it," he says, still standing in the same place. If I was a better person I'd probably run to him. But I'm not.
If I were a better person, I'd say I believe him. But I don't. And suddenly my throat is swollen with hurt, my own bottom lip is sticking out and now we're both trying not to cry because this is so overly taxing. We're adults but emotions are hard. Vulnerability is hard. It is a damnation that we both detest, both avoid. In better states we would joke about this, would laugh and tease the other for not having the emotional capability to voice our thoughts. But we're not. So we don't. And now we're crying openly in the off-putting, attempted to look cozy living room that we can never fully relax in.
"I don't wanna lose you," he says between small hiccups, hands now balled into fists that he buries under opposite armpits, shifting his weight so that he doesn't look so small. His glances bounce between me and the hallway table, never fixing on either of us as he tries to state his mind like an adult. "I've barely had you."
In my heart there has been a constant ache, hurt flowing and pumping through my veins like the blood that ran cold last night at his hurtful words. His apologetic words make the ache somehow worse.
"I don't mean to be a burden to you," I say softly, feeling a small, stray tear break the fluid barrier of my waterline to race down my cheek, allowing a pathway to the fatter drops that threaten to quickly follow.
Mike's face shifts, stepping towards me and holding out his arms.
"No, never," he says just as soft, trying to comfort me. I freeze as he approaches, my body stiffening as I try to swallow the lump and convince myself that I can survive his touch. His touch that I normally crave the moment I'm around him, that I seek in the dark of night even when the bed is overheating, that I'd go insane without.
"I've never asked you to care," I say, voice breaking and tears rolling freely now.
"I know," he says into my neck, which is wetting as he shakes around me, his grasp firm and careless of whether or not it's too much.
"I don't mean to cause problems. I just...." I don't know what I mean, how I wish to finish the statement. If I was clever, I could. If I was clever, I wouldn't even be in this problem to begin with.
"I'm just scared," he chokes out, his breathing horrible as he struggles to keep his crying from being obvious. "You look sick all the time and I don't want that."
He's told me the story. His mother wasting away, thinning and slipping, starving and dying. How he'd returned home to a baby wailing in her crib as their mothers body lay in a pool of blood he never really got out of the carpet. He lied to me initially when I saw it the first time, said it was wine. It wasn't until we had a few glasses ourselves that his eyes glazed over and he told me. It was disturbing how neutral he kept himself to the subject. A habit he'd developed much too long ago to break.
"Mike-"
"I try, and I try and if something doesn't give soon I'm gonna fucking lose it," he sobs into my skin, arms tightening around me.
"If what doesn't give?" I ask softly, trying to pull him away to look into his eyes. But he doesn't budge, sobbing a little bit harder and gripping a little bit tighter. He doesn't respond, simply shaking as he breathes heavily against me through his mouth.
"Hey," I say softly, trying to wrap my arms around him, failing and giving up as I realize his grip is too tight. "I'm not going anywhere."
His mouth closes a little, quieting his breathing slightly as he sniffles.
"I'm an idiot, but I'm not suicidal," I say softly, trying again for a joke. He doesn't laugh, but he does pull away slightly to look at my face, lips swollen and quivering as he blinks at me.
"You scare me," he says quietly, not quite meeting my eyes. He's watching my lips, but I think that's because that's the closest he can get to making eye contact.
"I scare you?" I ask, furrowing my brows. I lick my dry, cracked lips for comfort. "Why?"
"Because I love you," he says shakily, sighing as though it were exhausting to admit while still holding that nervous flicker in his eyes. "Because when I think about not being with you the house seems colder. And I can't go back to hating this house."
I open my mouth to respond, but there's more.
"Because I love your stupid smile when you're excited, or how you do that cricket leg thing when you're falling asleep. Or how if you want my attention you'll bury your head in my chest and pretend you're doing it in your sleep even though I won't judge you for doing it while you're awake."
"I don't-"
"I love how defensive you get over things like that," he says, bringing one hand to cup my cheek, resting his thumb that smells like the creamy lavender handsoap next to the bathroom sink on my lips. "I love how you look waking up next to me, how you play with Abby. And for a really long time I didn't see myself ever having kids, but when I see you curling her hair at the kitchen table I think maybe it wouldn't be so bad if I just took up another job and saved money so that we could-"
"Mike-"
"Stop cutting me off," he says gently, his eyes finally meeting mine with just the smallest smile. "It's rude."
At that I do stop, my body finally relaxing into his grasp as I lean into him and his touch.
"I want things I haven't wanted since before Garret went missing," he says, stroking my lip. "And I want them with you."
Dinner was just as delicious as lunch, even if it was late. And the bed is soft like our voices as we make plans for years down the line. And after a week long break, the pages are finally filled once again.
Just like us.
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Literally had a come to Jesus moment while writing this that not only do I fear being vulnerable irl, but in writing too. Nearly threw up while writing this. Book aable feet.
Taglist:
@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 @jhutchissupercool . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3
               •▪︎Masterlist▪︎•
213 notes · View notes
remember-the-fanfics · 4 months
Note
Heya! Saw you were in need of some hazbin requests- would you be okay writing something angsty? I liked your earthborn idea, so you can use that concept for the reader <3 maybe teen!reader is having a rly tough time mentally at the hotel? Panic attacks, loss of appetite, the whole lot of it. You can take this anywhere it goes, I won’t mind. And if you can’t/don’t want to write it no worries! (Also, on a serious note I am getting help currently. Please don’t worry about my mental well-being ❤️)
So abrupt ending, ran out of idea and then got a headache, hope you're doing well. <3
Cut because readers thoughts get real panicked
You weren't a sinner, you haven't even died yet.
Why were you here?
Was everyone right? Did you truly deserve this?
They can't be-, you are still mortal. Then why were you even in Hell?
Why Why why-
You couldn't tell anyone, not that you don't trust them! All of the people (are they even still people if they are dead? Demons?), are nice and you just don't want to worry them with the truth.
-
"Have any of you seen (Y/n)? They are always willing to help me with taste testing my food?" Niffty asked after finishing cooking for the hotel.
"Haven't actual seen them today. I think they are sleeping though the day. I would." Said Husk, cleaning a glass.
"They've been skittish the past few days when they aren't in their room." Alastor stated, "More jumpy that usual."
"(Y/n) haven't been like this since they first got here." Said Charlie with a remorseful look. "I hope I didn't push them to hard on redemption, I know they can be sensitive about certain things."
"Like how all of this could be for nothing?" Said Alastor with a chuckle. "They might realize that and miss their old life. Realizing that they can't actually get better than hell."
"I'm checking on them." Said Vaggie, getting up and heading towards (Y/n)'s room.
"Just don't be too pushy! And make sure they've eaten! And water!" Said Charlie after Vaggie.
-
Vaggie remembers the look on your face when you realized you were in Hell being the one who found you wondering aimlessly. Your transition to a sinner wasn't a pretty one, after accepting Charlie's offer at the hotel the two didn't see you for almost two weeks. Vaggie thought you left until Charlie convinced you to come out of your room.
You look lost when you opened the door. The two only realized that you were young, not a child but not completely an adult. Charlie didn't force you to talk about what you were thinking, just got you to eat something and drink water then take a shower with some borrowed clothes.
Vaggie had moved you to a closer room to the two of them. You didn't have anything to move out so you just followed the two. They kept an eye on you since, making sure you realized that this wasn't the end.
Vaggie grumbled on her breath, standing infront of your door. Knocking with no answer.
"Kid, I know you're in there. Just want to make sure you're okay."
"..."
"(Y/n) did one of these assholes do something? I'll kick their ass if they did." Vaggie continued. "... You haven't closed yourself off like this since you first got here."
Hearing a sniffle after bring that up, clued Vaggie in what might be wrong.
"Look, I'm not like Charlie and will break the door down instead of talking to you for 2 weeks waiting for you to open it."
" 'm fine Vaggie."
"When was the last time you ate?"
"..."
"Or drank any water? Or even took a shower?"
"Give me a second."
-
(Y/n) would have jump out of the window if it wasn't that far. They looked for any escape route from Vaggie and the conversation they would have. (Y/n) could hide in the closet but they spent their childhood in there, they dont want to go back.
With a quick push the trash under their bed and make themselves presentable, they open the door and Vaggie look unimpressed.
"Come on, Niffty made food. You're eating." Said Vaggie not giving (Y/n) a chance to say no by grabbing their hand and pulling them along.
"Okay..."
"Charlie gonna want to know what upset you." Said Vaggie, (Y/n) groaned in response.
"Can't we just say I'm fine? I don't want to talk about it."
"You're not fine. You've not closed yourself off in awhile."
"I needed some me time?"
"That shouldn't include ignoring your health."
-
Well it was the most awkward dinner, everyone was trying not to stare at (Y/n)'s disheveled shape while eating. (Y/n) ate almost half the plate before pushing it away.
"I'm full." They said.
"You haven't eaten in a week, you need to finish." Said Husk.
"That's all I can eat right now. If I try I'll probably vomit it back up which will put me back in square one." Said (Y/n), trying not to get annoyed with the others for caring.
"You still need to hydrate." Vaggie said putting down a glass of water infront of them, (Y/n) grimace at the glass as water didn't taste good to them.
"Fine just can you all go back to eatting your own food?" (Y/n) said, sipping on the water while everyone grumbled and went back to their own plates of food. Everyone became silent while eating when it just became to loud in (Y/n)'s head again.
-
You were fine, everything was fine. This water was... water. The food was fine.
Everything was just fine. Everyone was fine.
Why then didn't it feel fine?
Why couldn't you feel fine?
Because you were in hell-
Like all the people your family said would be there-
People like
You.
But you shouldn't be here. You never died, you don't even look like the people down here.
Down down down, why does you life always go that direction?
You really should breath.
-
The first one to notice was the only one who didn't take her eyes off of (Y/n), Charlie, seeing that (Y/n) just stops everything. Charlie went to them quickly, not touching them yet. Crouching down next to their chair, having everyone watching now. Vaggie gotten out of her own chair ready to help at any moment.
"(Y/n)? Are you-?"
(Y/n) took a quick inhale, barely putting down their glass in time for their body to exhale. Charlie realized that they were breathing too fast while (Y/n) realized they were panicking infront of people.
"(Y/n)?" Asked Charlie, startling (Y/n) out of their thoughts and almost out of their chair. They looked like a frighten animal at Charlie.
"...Fine, 'm fine, t'is fine, promise." (Y/n) said, trying to not worry Charlie.
"Just focus on your breath." Said Charlie. "Just close your eyes and focus, in for 5, hold for 5, and exhale for 5."
(Y/n) squeezed their eyes shut, trying to focus their ragged breathing to calm down.
Just focus
After a few minutes, (Y/n) keep their eyes closed not wanting to face everyone.
"Better?" Asked Vaggie.
"Hmm." (Y/n) mumbled in response.
"Want to take a shower, while I get Niffty to fix up your room?"
"Hm- yeah."
-
While (Y/n) being in the shower, Charlie and Vaggie went with Niffty to (Y/n)'s room. Which just was littered with all things; trash, clothes, and random things.
"I never seen their room this messy before, hope there aren't any bugs. If there are any, they wouldn't be for long." Said Niffty getting to work quickly.
Charlie helped by ridding the bed of covers, pillows, and sheets. Vaggie taking anything that seemed dirty to be washed and getting new bedding for the bed, while looking for clean clothes for (Y/n) to wear.
"What do you think bothering them so much?" Asked Charlie.
"Probably thinking that they'll be suck here forever." Said Niffty.
"...That's probably true but they believe in redemption that I'm working on, are they second guess it?"
"(Y/n) has a habit of pushing their problems away until they can't." Said Husk, standing at the door way with a drink. "I'll take the clothes to them if you want." He said to Vaggie before she handed him the clothes.
"But they know we are here for them. Why can't they trust us with helping them though this?"
"They are probably use to going though it by themselves, they don't usually talk about who they were before hell." Said Vaggie, putting a hand on Charlie's shoulder. "We'll be here to help them up again when they need it."
"I know, I just want the help them before it gets to this." Said Charlie before (Y/n) appeared in the doorway of their room.
"Oh wow, you all did a good job. It looks way better." Said (Y/n) nervously after hearing what Charlie said. "I apologize for what happened. Not use to people wanting to help me before it becomes their problem when it gets to big."
"Well we'll be here if you ever want to talk about it." Said Charlie.
"Thanks. I'll try if it happens again."
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smplykiel · 10 months
Text
“You made me think I actually mattered.” fem! reader x albedo | part two.
warnings: angst, arguments, hurt/no comfort, crying, heartbreak, mentions of major character death, albedo is a big fat jerk (love him tho, just not here LMAO)
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Days, weeks, hell, even months have passed since the last time you spent a passionate moment with your lover, Albedo. The more you tried to comprehend, the more you convinced yourself that he was just too busy with his duties, the more you couldn't.
Was it really that difficult for him to spare you one moment of his time? Did you really stop being important to him? or has he entirely forgotten about you? Surely not, right?
Numerous days and nights were spent alone and unhappy. By the time your so-called lover got home, you'd be exhausted and soundly sleeping in your shared bedroom. When you wake up, you're greeted by his side of the bed, all empty and cold.
it was as if he didn't exist anymore— or perhaps you didn't exist to him anymore?
A soft sigh resonated through the cold room. You sat up immediately, silently cursing yourself as your head spun from the unexpected action. You get out of the shared bed after your spinning head has settled down, slightly wincing as your feet come into contact with the cold floor. You paid it no mind and walked mindlessly to the bathroom. Your mind had become tired after running millions of miles and was now completely empty, with no thoughts.
You looked at yourself in the mirror. You weren't stupid; you know how much you've neglected yourself. exactly like he's neglecting you. Another exhausted sigh left your lips as you swiftly got ready, but for what? You had no idea.
You were completely clean and washed as you exited the bathroom. Hopefully presentable for the rest of the world. Maybe you should pay Albedo a visit. But just thinking of dragonspine's freezing chilly atmosphere sent shivers down your spine.
You mentally shook the thought and prepared to leave, not bothering to eat anything to fill your empty stomach. It's all right, you're used to it.
You hurriedly put on your shoes, double-checked your belongings and keys, and officially exited as you twisted the knob of your shared home's door shut.
You couldn't help but be excited for some reason. What are you excited about? Maybe for Albedo? You just hoped by the time you made it to his lab, he would give you a single ounce of attention— affection.
You wasted no time in heading towards the chilly mountain. The cold breeze caused goosebumps to creep all over your porcelain skin. Every breath you breathed became visible before fading into thin air.
You arrived at your lover's lab after an exhausting journey. You hurried up your feet, choosing to run despite the slippery floor and the cold air that made it difficult to breathe.
And finally, you made it to your lover. Though your big warm smile was quickly wiped off your face as he didn't even bother to acknowledge you, eyes focused on whatever he was doing. It's okay, maybe he just didn't notice.
"H...hey! albedo, my love!" You said in between your gasps of air. A pang in your chest; you don't know whether it was because your lover ignored you or the icy cold air that crept into your lungs.
A sliver of hope ran through your shivering body as you saw him whip his head towards you. "Oh, y/n, what are you doing here?" he said with a raised brow. Yet not long after, his head was turned back to whatever he was doing. You frown at this. Sure, he had spared you a single glance, but it wasn't enough. It was never enough.
"Oh... well, I just wanted to see you... That's it..." you responded, voice slowly becoming smaller with each word you let out. Your orbs were now staring holes into the snowy ground.
You nervously shifted your eyes from the ground towards your lover as you were met with silence. Did he not hear you? Maybe you shouldn't have visited after all. Maybe you should've known that it would end up like this once again.
"Um, I wanted to see you-" You tried explaining yourself again, only to get cut off by his slightly irritated voice. "I heard you. No need to repeat yourself over and over again." You could feel yourself taken aback at his sudden change of tone. The small crunch of snow underneath you was heard as you unconsciously stepped back.
"Sorry," you whispered. Why were you apologizing? You did nothing wrong; you never did. So why did you feel like this? A deafening silence engulfed the icy atmosphere as Albedo continued to focus on his work.
You wanted to see him, right? Was that it? Were you expecting more? Did you want to do more? Of course you did.
You lightly took a deep breath before you started walking towards him. Your ears, hands, and cheeks were bright red because of the chilly breeze, as you wore only one layer of clothing. How did you even manage to get up here without freezing to death?
"What... are you doing?" Hopefully you weren't disturbing him as you took a peek at whatever he was doing right now. Why was it that it was much more important than you? to the point that all of his attention was all over it?
"Work." His response was blunt but vague. It made you frown at yourself. You took a small step closer, a mere inch away from each other, as you tried to understand what his 'work' is.
"Look, you're disturbing my experiment right now. It's much better if you go back down the mountain and return home, he said, eyes still on his... 'work'. A feeling of hurt crept up into your stomach. Your brows now knitted together as you shifted your gaze towards your lover.
After all the energy you spent climbing up the cold, snowy mountain, he has the audacity to say this? Did he ever care about you? Hell, you were trembling because of the cold breeze, yet this is what fills his mind? his experiment?
"Oh." You didn't know how you should feel or what you were feeling at all. Her soft orbs were now covered with a faint glaze as she furrowed her brows in frustration. "Do you even care?" Your own words shocked you as you pressed your freezing fingertips against your lips. You fucked up.
Tears were starting to prick the corners of your eyes as you looked at Albedo nervously. You didn't mean to say that out loud. You just felt frustrated and unloved. Albedo turned his face towards you, seeming unfazed as he raised his brow.
"What?" he asked as he shifted his attention to you. Your body was freezing and trembling, whether it be because of the cold wind or nervousness; you couldn't care less. Your mind was running millions of miles.
But you knew very well that this had to be said. You were getting tired of him constantly neglecting you and constantly excusing himself by saying that he was just too busy with work. You didn't even know how you managed to keep up with him every night, greeting him at the door only to be met with silence as he walks past you, or when he would return late at night, or when he didn't return home at all.
You could feel yourself take a deep breath before you tried to calm your thoughts. "Albedo, can we... talk?" You hoped that he took it as a sign that something was wrong. that everything was wrong.
"If it's another one of your stupid rants about me always not having time for you, then no, we can't." he sighed in annoyance before turning back to his work.
You were getting tired of this. You couldn't hold on to what you'd been feeling anymore. Everything you've been bottling up is slowly starting to surface again.
"Do you even care about me anymore? These past few months felt like a living hell as you continued to neglect me every. single. day! I know. I know that you're busy. Busy with work. With everything! But can't you just at least spare me a single moment of your time? Is it that hard? Or am I just a big waste of your time?!"
Your sudden outburst shocked Albedo, who was not expecting you to suddenly raise your voice. "Y/N, calm down. Geez. I already told you many, many times that I have to finish my work. It's my duty! Do I have to repeat it every single time to you?" he scoffed as he shook his head.
"I know that! I know that very well! That you're busy with work because you're the chief alchemist of the Favonius! But I'm getting tired! Are we even lovers at this point?! Even when you're next to me, it feels like you're miles away." The argument was quickly getting heated, despite the freezing wind.
Our loud voices echoed throughout the snowy mountains, hopefully not catching the attention of wandering monsters. but that is the least of your problems right now.
Your cheeks burned red from anger as your face was contorted into a furious expression. You just wanted everything to turn back to normal, to what it used to be. when you were still spending time smothering each other with love.
"You know what, Y/n? If you're going to be this clingy and annoying, then it's better if we just end it. It was getting tiring anyway." The tears that you were trying so hard to fight back quickly streamed down your face as Albedo spat hurtful words at your face.
"You made me think I actually mattered." All of a sudden, the breeze felt as cold as ever. And the air felt heavy and tense. It made it hard to breathe as your chest heaved up and down rapidly.
That's it? It's all over? Just like that?
"Well, you don't. Not anymore. So goodbye. Please leave my lab and never return." It was as if your heart was slowly shattering at every word he spoke out. Bitter tears are flowing down your now tear-stained cheek continuously.
You let out a shaky breath before taking small steps back, hoping that we would take back his words. That he would say he was joking and that he was sorry. But he didn't.
You called yourself pathetic. You were the one who was being mistreated, and now that you're free, you're supposed to be happy. Yet you weren't. It just made you feel much more miserable. His words echoed through your head repeatedly. As if it was haunting you.
You grit your teeth before you turn away from your now-ex-lover. Your cold fingertips were wiping away your salty tears as you walked down the walk of shame. Your vision was slowly getting disoriented as tears continued to flow uncontrollably.
Suddenly, you could feel your feet step on nothing. You quickly shifted your focus onto your path before realizing you were on the broken bridge. You realized you'd fallen down because you weren't paying attention to where you were going.
You could feel yourself fall numerous feet down as tears stopped falling.
But it's okay, you didn't even matter anyway, right?
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A/N: angst is my girl dinner! <3 anw this is my first one-shot so pls bear with me, i'm still new to all of this. hopefully, you guys enjoy it!
©smplykiel 2023 on tumblr | do not repost, copy, translate, or modify any of my works on any platform.
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yuusishi · 1 year
Note
Hiiii :D
Can I request Leona, Malleus, and either Lilia or Idia(I love them both and I cannot choose) with an s/o who frequently has nightmares and so they're constantly tired from the lack of proper sleep?
. . . NOT SO SWEET DREAMS
pairings : Leona Kingscholar , Malleus Draconia , Idia Shroud x gn!reader
genre : fluff , established relationships
cws/tws : none
a/n : I hope this got through well, I rarely have dreams but I have frequent sleep paralysis which feels nightmarish enough 💀 also new divider <3 this one is so cute
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Leona Kingscholar !!
He didn't really care until both of you became close, he knew college students were tired all the time so he thought you were just one of them.
He always noticed how your eyes were always drooping in every class except PE, shoulders always relaxed and your head tilting and then snapping up.
But when you two became friends and eventually partners, that's when the concern and curiosity started.
He would be blunt, "Oi Herbivore, you're starting to look like a racoon with those bags under your eyes, anything going on?"
He's mean, but that's just how he shows he's worried for you.
You were nervous telling Leona, thinking that he might find your reason for lack of sleep childish.
He blinked a few times, then asked if you wanted to sleep in his room in hopes it can relax you.
If he feels the space next to him shift harshly he'd wake up in a heartbeat, he won't say anything, instead slowly dragging you back down to lay down next to him again, this time his arms protectively around you.
He'd try to attend your classes to keep an eye on you since half the time you're in class you look like you're on the verge of passing out.
The teachers are thanking the stars that Leona’s finally attending class, but they notice that if you’re not there then he isn’t either…
You sleep in his room 99% of the time now, even if your nightmares have lessened already.
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Malleus Draconia !!
Before you explained to him your predicament he often thought you were deathly sick. He tried to get the specialist doctor for the royal family to go to NRC just to take care of you 💀
After you told him that nightmares are causing your lack of sleep, he put down his quill that was about to call the doctor over.
Now you have a new sleeping buddy!
Malleus decided that he will now be sleeping in your room until you both figure out how to solve your nightmare problem.
At first Malleus was confused how nightmares are able to affect a person this much, but chalked it up to the mentality of humans being weaker than faes.
While you sleep he secretly uses magic on you, nothing that can permanently change your state of mind but one that can hopefully give you a pleasant sleep.
He wants to use a spell on you to dispel all the thoughts that cause your nightmares, he really does, but the dangers of using a spell like that on a mere human scares him. He'd never be able to forgive himself if it harmed you instead.
He tries to get you to have small power naps between classes to give you more energy, the only exception is during lunch breaks since you need to use that for eating.
He's surprisingly strict with you getting sleep between classes, if you have to do homework he'll sit next to you to make sure you focus and finish it within the break.
Once you're done expect to be gently pulled down for your little morning/afternoon nap.
You remind him of Silver sometimes when he sees you've fallen asleep in the classroom or under a tree in the botanical garden.
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Idia Shroud !!
"[NAME]-SHI, A-ARE YOU ALIVE?"
Thought you were kind of dead when you were having a particularly more sleep deprived day than usual.
After you told him of your current condition, he secretly went to work on a device.
A device that can release soothing soundwaves that you can't even hear from a naked ear! It's small too so you can carry it with you if you're going out of town.
Tries to say that it wasn't much trouble when you thank him, he definitely didn't spend the entire week trying to figure out how to make it quiet enough and how to make it tiny and lightweight.
Poor boy's hair is completely pink and flaming when you tell him you finally got a semi-good night's sleep thanks to his invention.
If you tell him that you want to sleep next to him to relax and be more comfortable, he actually died and ascended on the spot, that's why he's staring at you like he just saw a ghost.
"Idia...? Are you okay?" he realizes that he was staring and holding his breath "YES! I'm o-okay...and! You can sleep in my room..."
Usually people would sleep next to their partners at night, but Idia needed some more time to ready himself and that was time you were willing to give.
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comicwritesstuff · 5 months
Note
any yandere velvet x fem reader headcanons or oneshots? :3
I got you >:)
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Yandere!Velvet x Fem!reader headcanons/one shot
tw! NSFW, cursing, possessiveness, stalking, mentions of death, blood, knifes.
The first time Velvet ever saw you was at a party or an event, at first she wasn't as obsessed, it wasn't until you came up to her and asked her if she wanted to dance, thats when it started.
After that night she started stalking you, since she's so famous and has access to basically anything, it was easy to find you.
So easy to put cameras in your room, all over your house, she was fully aware of how wrong it was, it didn't affect her at all.
She would go into your house at random times, when you were there or not, spraying her perfume on your clothes to get you used to her scent.
After maybe a month or two of stalking she "coincidentally" met you again in a coffee shop.
She got your number and asked if you needed a job, you probably had a job so you declined. So, she offered to double your salary, and with that became Velvet and Veneer's assistant, replacing crimp.
When you start working their, Velvet is definitely rude, always making fun of you and picking you apart, trying to make you feel like you aren't special and that no one likes you.
Veneer would try to be nice to you, but Velvet would but in, telling him to shut up, and, "Stop being so nice to the new assistant, they work for us after all."
At this point your only staying working for them for the money, and once you're almost completely mentally broken down, thats when Velvet makes her move on you.
She'd find you in your room crying after she had yelled at you or something, and completely switch up.
"Oh you poor thing~ was I a bit to harsh? Baby I'm so sorry~" She would say in a fake apologetic voice, cupping you face with her hands wiping your tears away. Hugging you and comforting you. Toying so easily with your emotions, you knew what she was doing but you couldn't stop getting attached to her.
After she comforts you and you stop crying, she'll finally kiss you, passionately and full of lust but just as you give in she pulls away and leaves the room.
After that night she isn't openly as mean to you, but she will say things that don't necessarily sound like insults, but they are.
She is closer to you know, randomly pulling you into empty rooms, and making out with you for a minute or two then leaving.
It goes on for a week or two before one night your in your room, about to sleep and she walks in, going towards your bed and getting on top of you, kissing you.
Your so absorbed in the kiss you didn't realize she brought a knife in the room with her, she she starts stripping your clothes off, you don't even try to argue both because you wanted this and because she wouldn't stop no matter what.
Once all your clothes are off she starts leaving hickeys all over your body, your neck, collarbone, chest, telling you after each one, "You mine now, aren't you." Making you answer yes each time, until she gets to your thigh.
Thats when you notice the knife after she starts carving her name into your thigh.
Obviously you yelp, crying in pain, begging her to stop as she is holding you down.
"It's okay baby, I'm almost done, red looks so pretty on you..." She coos, finishing carving her name and licking the blood off your thigh, you were embarrassed to say it turned you on.
She wiped your tears once again, find gauze or something for the cut. Then as a "reward" for being a good girl, she eats you out, over and over until you physically can't anymore, she stops, gives you a kiss on your forehead and lets you fall asleep on her chest.
Most nights go like that, if she gets jealous or sees you talking to someone she probably hires a hitman or something. She would even kill Veneer if you got to attached to him, she gets jealous of everyone.
And god save you if she finds out you have a partner or if you cheat on her, she would kill them in front of you, make you watch as the life slips out of their eyes, handcuffing you to a wall in an empty room, making you stay the night with your partners lifeless body, teaching you a lesson.
If it came down to it, she would kill you if you deny her, she believes that if she can't have you, no one can.
Velvet would say to you, "I'm the only one who could ever love someone like you." She makes you feel like shit, makes you so dependent on her that you are blind to the abuse and over obsessiveness.
But at the same time, she can tell when your about to break, and each time, right before you do, she builds up your confidence, just so you stay sane.
"Let me see that pretty smile of yours baby~" "Nothing could or would ever come between us, you're mine."
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dawnoftime22 · 7 months
Text
a constant sickness.
| N.R
Warnings: mental breakdown at the end, overthinking, being sensitive while horribly sick, mention of throwing up, headaches, r loves orcas(?)
Summary: While Nat was away at a SHIELD meeting, you had gotten sick once again. Having been sick for the millionth time in the past few months, you were tired.
Word Count: 6.4k
Category: Fluff, maybe a little hurt/comfort later on
A/N: I guess you could say this is a vent fic? I've been sick a lot, and it isn't fun, so I ended up making this. please drink water everyone and take care of yourself. love you all <3
| Started on 07/11/2023, 6:11 PM |
| Finished on 19/11/2023 8:07 AM |
Masterlist | N.R Masterlist
“darling, you have been so strong. so please,
lay down and let yourself rest for a while.”
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|——————————— ⴵ ———————————|
The morning birds sang a beautiful song, and the gray sky filled up the room with light. It came along with the rain, the glass windows fogged up from the cold.
The place beside you was empty as you were curled up asleep, all cozy, but missing the touch of a certain redhead.
Soon enough, your eyes slowly open, blinking away your sleep for a few minutes. But you instantly notice the horrid, miserable feeling of a sore throat.
Of course. You had gotten sick again. And the exact day Nat has a meeting. Why couldn't you get sick yesterday? You thought. Or tomorrow, in fact, she's free almost all day for this week.
You shake your head to get your mind to stop before it goes crazy. It's far too early in the morning for this. You stretch, wanting to get your tense muscles loose once again, but doing so just made you feel more tired.
Having woken up alone, you sigh. If you hadn't felt so horrible, then your morning would've been great. But, well, there's nothing much you could do.
Your hands gently grab the soft orca plushie Nat had bought for you just sitting at the end of the bed. Seeing as she wasn't present at the moment, you hug it.
It was quite precious to you, really. Nat didn't know what to get you one anniversary day, and she had thought about how once, when an animal documentary was randomly on the tv, it had videos of orcas just swimming, and jumping. She was in the kitchen while you sat in the living room, laid down sideways as you watched with shining eyes on the screen, like a child.
The adorable sounds that sure, yes, was a terrifying sound for the other animals in the ocean, as they were killer whales, still made you love them nonetheless. Nat smiled at you when she set down the meal she just finished cooking on the table, and called you to eat.
The memory serves as a comfort of sort. You always loved how deep Nat thought about her gifts, and you're always grateful. It wasn't much, but to you, it was everything. Truly, you could never think of having a better girlfriend than her.
Not long after you continued staying comfortably in bed, cuddling up with the orca plushie, your nose began to clog up, making you unable to breathe properly.
The uncomfortable feeling had forced you to get up, and once you were, everything was back to normal. Almost. It's always so annoying having a stuffy nose. You begrudgingly and slowly get out of bed, careful to not make yourself dizzy by going too fast. The target of the tissue box was in your sights, and you somehow make it even with your low energy.
The tissue easily slides out of the box when you grab it, and you blow into it, clearing your nose a bit. After pulling away, you groan a little in disgust and the realization that you'll have to do this again after another few minutes.
You throw out the used tissue into a nearby trash can, and just when you thought of sitting in bed or slumping into the desk chair just to stare out the window to watch cars go by, your stomach feels too empty.
Welp. Your mouth forms a tired pout, but before your stomach could even make any noise at you for not moving to get some food, you grab a nearby jacket and put it on. The warmth it provided surrounded you with a feeling of comfort and safety. As it should, considering the jacket was on Nat's side of the bed. Honestly, you can't tell which one is Nat's or yours anymore with how much the two of you share with each other by now.
You start to make your way out of the bedroom, and into the living room, the curtains already being open since Nat had left when the sun came up, while you were still sleeping.
The house lacked her presence. With you taking a glance at the kitchen, you had hoped to see her red hair basking in the morning sunlight, yet nothing but the kitchen counters and cabinets looked back at you.
You blink away the tiredness and dizziness that started to cloud your vision, and you went over to the kitchen, arriving suddenly somehow. The first thing you grabbed was a cup of water, drinking it and wincing at it going down your aching throat. The feeling soon dissolves into an itch that made you cough once or twice. Well, at least you were more awake now.
Considering a lot of options were out of the view because of your throat, you settled for bread, seeing as it was the softest thing you could find at the moment. You almost shakingly set down the plate on the table, because of how weak your body started to be from the fever, but you grab your choice of spread to put on with a butter knife anyway. Even if being sick meant you were tired, you still needed something to eat, otherwise you'd just get sicker. It wasn't much of a choice, really.
Once you had your meal ready, you sat down at the dining table, taking a bite of your sandwich. Here goes the awful long, long chewing as you tried your best not to have your stomach throw up whatever thats left within it.
You grab your phone as you ate, turning it on and opening your messages app. You click on Nat's contact, your fingers drifting off to type in some words that your head can barely even make out to be a sentence from the little dizziness.
<- Nat <3 [◉¯]
hey Nat, I got sick again. do you think
you can come home quicker? :(
I miss you
Sent at 9:37 AM
hi, darling <3 you're sick again?
I'm sorry detka, the earliest I can
get back is at 4
I'll see if I can sneak off earlier, but
try to get comfortable and watch some
tv my love. have you eaten?
I'll get you some things before I get home too. message me if anything happens, okay? I miss you too, and I love you
Read at 9:38 AM
it's okay, you don't have to
rush if you can't
I'm eating some bread right now
so yeah, don't worry
I love you too <3 get home safe.
Read at 9:38 AM
She didn't have to rush. Right? No, of course not. Maybe a little. You just didn't want to worry her. If we're being completely honest, it's not really okay considering how sick you were and how you were all alone in the house.
Your face had a sad smile. Having checked the time, it's going to feel like forever until she was home. You're just going to have to distract yourself in the meanwhile, and hope this one doesn't make you feel like going through hell.
You turn off your phone and set it down on the table, finishing up the last of your piece of bread. Since there's not much else you could do in the kitchen anymore, you leave the plate and cup in the sink.
The fever wasn't horrible at the moment, but you could already expect what'll happen later in the day. You thought of the little work you still haven't finished yet though.
Throwing up your hands in exasperation to, no one in particular, you walk back to the bedroom, seeing the desk you usually sit at near the window. At least the skies weren't bright. And maybe the rain will even come back, if you're lucky enough.
There were papers already ready on it for you to check and go over, having been taken by you when you were at work before.
You sat down on yet another chair, and the window casts a light upon everything on the desk, also giving the old wood a glow.
At least you can swivel and spin around in your desk chair. You grab a pen laying around, but you didn't start until you played a playlist of slow peaceful songs from your phone.
Everything was going fine as time passed by, but you're starting to feel worse. The day might have gone to lunch or brunch time by now, but you weren't done yet. Probably due to the many times you've spaced out, or somehow more papers just kept spawning in out of nowhere. It always feels never ending until you actually finish it all.
To make matters worse, you even feel an incoming headache upon you. You're definitely not finishing up those remaining papers today, that's for sure.
You end up giving up and leaving them on the desk, walking back out to the living room and into the kitchen to take some pills, hopefully letting the headache pass.
Afterwards, your legs lead you away to grab the orca plushie, just to go back out and plop down on the couch, grabbing the tv remote to put on the first thing you thought of that would distract you from the awful sickness.
It's starting to hit you now. The jacket you wore started to feel a little too warm, causing you to take it off one arm and the other, letting it fall down on the couch.
You could feel the mucus in your nose go down to your throat without being able to stop it. Knowing it did that and even feeling it irked you. You start coughing, the sound obvious with sickness.
Thankfully it was a short cough, and your eyes continue to focus on the screen once more, the scenes playing relaxing you. Your tense muscles loosened a little at the coziness of the living room, even if your nose was being annoying, and your throat makes you cough. You wished Nat was here. So, so badly. But it was still only 12 PM. Even if you're functional, it doesn't mean you don't feel awful.
The noises coming from the tv was quiet. Enough so that you're able to feel dozy. And not in the headache, dizzy way this time fortunately. Your eyes go from being light, to feeling heavy. Your focus also started to include your breathing without meaning to.
Soon, you gave in, surrendering to the darkness that that lured you into sleep.
|—————————— ⴵ ——————————|
Nat arrives home with a bag full of items she had gotten for you. She takes off her shoes and puts the plastic bag on the kitchen island, careful not to make anything fall the wrong way. After she was done with that, she turns to the living room, hearing noises that she would only presume would be the tv, just faintly. She takes off her jacket as she goes, placing it on the couch when she was close enough.
That was when she saw you, all curled up on the couch with the plushie she got you. The sight made her adore you, but also make her feel sad. She would only ever see you like this when you were super sick and tired, or waiting on her to come home.
It's only happened a few times, but a few was enough to make her understand how your fevers feel. A lot of people would just go with their day and deal with it, but you weren't the type of person to be able to. It's not that you wouldn't, you just couldn't. It always had a high chance of taking you the worst.
What made things more concerning is that you're falling sick more often, it's leading to be not normal. Others would say it's the seasons, but with your experience, it really isn't. Nat just hopes your body only hates you at the moment, and you'll get a longer break sometime soon.
Her feet takes her to stand in front of you and kneel down, her hand going up to lay gently against your forehead. The warmness you radiated makes her frown.
Your breathing started to lessen its softness, and you start waking up, possibly either from her presence, the hand on your forehead, or your throat starting to feel dry. Probably all the above.
Your eyes flutter open, and there you see the redhead you love so much right in front of you. Her green eyes looked at you so softly as you registered the scene you awoke to.
"Hi, детка (baby). You feeling okay?" She asks softly, her fingers drifting away to gently pull your hair away from your face. Even when she spoke Russian, her voice was caring.
That was when you were so willing to break, just seeing her looking at you so softly made all your courage to stay strong from the sickness had faltered. But you tried keeping the tears in.
You shook your head fatiguely, your eyes still tired. She knew the answer, but she hoped the sleep brought you more relief. Instead you got the worser effects. It was a chance of either being worse or your throat magically being better.
"That's okay. I got you orange juice and soup, дорогой (darling)." the drink made your face brighten up a little, but the soup almost made you scrunch up your nose in an act of disgust.
"Well, you don't wanna throw up, do you?" Nat raises an eyebrow at you. Her voice was gentle, so it wasn't scolding and it wasn't a threat. Maybe a little bit of a threat, but you needed one considering you know you'll end up feeling nauseous if you don't eat. It's a miserable feeling, even if afterwards you'll be able to get whatever sickness it is out of your system, the process for it isn't great.
You purse your lips and shake your head, the memories of having to go through the nausea being horrible. She gives you a small smile, and moves to stand up.
Nat helps you slowly stand up with her, holding you up with her arms and letting you put a little of your weight on her as you walked. She didn't trust how dizzy you looked when you stood up. You wouldn't either, because the room looked like it was dancing just a little.
She sits you down on the dining table, going off to open the plastic bag and get out the contents within it. First and foremost, she opens the orange juice bottle and pours it in a cup for you, placing it in front of you on the table.
You try and take ahold of it as calmly as possible, but Nat smiles at the small excitement she sees at you being able to drink orange juice. The juice goes down your throat easily, basically almost clearing the germs in some way.
It somehow always helps, and you were relieved it did. Nat's gotten everything out the bag by now, and she's working away on cooking up a delicious chicken soup for you.
As you watched her move in the kitchen, humming a melody to herself every now and then, you slowly drank, trying your best not to finish all the orange juice before you eat. Thankfully you had breakfast down earlier, so there wasn't much air in your stomach or anything to get the nausea to come back.
The time was 2:45 PM. Nat really did sneak away from the SHIELD work somehow. She would do anything for you after all. Or, Fury and Maria had known and dismissed her. Yes, it may just be a fever, but it's been far too many times now to count, so you'd guess they were pretty concerned too. And there was only one redhead who could truly take care of you.
Nat sets down the bowl of soup gently on your side of the table, while on her side she places down a bowl of mac and cheese. One in particular, you know Yelena would love. Your thoughts were wandering with people, but you did just get a nap after all. You may not have felt better, but your mind did clear up a bit more.
"Can I have a bit?" You ask, your voice groggy from the sore throat, but it makes out the sentence. The cheesy, but not too cheesy mac and cheese stared at you like it would melt in your mouth. It was too tempting and seemed way too delicious to not have a taste.
"Sure. Only a little," She said, aware of the fact that the cheese would probably make you cough more.
Nat looks at you amused as you took a spoonful, knowing you wouldn't be able to resist a bite. She didn't really get it to tease you or anything though, she just almost kind of misses Yelena. And she hasn't eaten any mac and cheese in a while. Plus, the blonde had always made the best mac and cheese.
She's been away doing widow work combined with some other assassin work. Nat wasn't entirely sure, but the jokes she tends to make are definitely missed by you. Though, you love Nat's company, love and the comfort she provides by herself just as much.
When you finish the spoon of mac and cheese you had just eaten earlier, you start on your soup with a smile on your face, satisfied at the taste. Nat was relieved. Sure, she wasn't as good as Yelena. No one was, to be honest, but the way your lips are turned up means you approved.
Your throat ends up letting out a cough once more after you swallowed, making you clear your throat to try and get rid of it. When it didn't work, you drank your orange juice. And of course, like magic there was no more bacteria spluttering. Or well, you hope so in the minutes that go by.
"You know, Yelena got a dog." Natasha says, wanting something to distract you a little from your sickness. And she's been wanting to talk to you about it ever since she got a call from Yelena at work. You look up at her with surprise and excitement.
"What? Really? Can I meet it??" Your questions spilled out one after another, excitement filling up your entire body at the new information. She lets out a small chuckle at your happiness.
"Yeah, she's coming back in a week." She mixes around the cheese with the macaronis more, having finished a layer of the outside, she had gotten to the less cheesier parts.
"Does the dog have a name?" Yes, you were excited about the other widow coming back, but at the moment you were very much distracted on the dog part.
Nat's lips purse at the memory of Yelena telling her the name she gave it. "Fanny." She says, with no other comment. The name being taken from the time she was in hiding during the 'Civil War between Captain America and Iron Man', as people called it... Fanny Longbottom. God, did Mason really not have any other choice than that one? That was Nat's thoughts, anyway.
You, on the other hand, giggled a little, careful not to laugh too much, or you'd end up in a coughing fit. "I love it. It reminds me of you a bit."
"Don't even speak about it." Nat responds playfully. Her eyebrows furrows, while her lips turn up into a smile. She shakes her head. She should've expected Yelena would've done such a thing after telling her her undercover name.
You had to take a moment to gather yourself, almost completely laughing at the thought you just had. "At least she didn't choose 'Longbottom'."
She laughs, the sound like a melody to you. Something that can easily, oh, so easily make it so that the fever you have wasn't just complete hell. "Can you imagine?" Nat says.
"What if she did? If we ever had to take care of it while she was away, all you'd ever hear is 'Longbottom! Longbottoooom'." You act out a scene of you calling the dog, possibly while Yelena would come over or leave it to the two of you to take care of it.
"Which would be you adoring it. But yes, Fanny isn't bad." Nat raises her eyebrows on her first sentence, but agrees with you on the name choice.
"No, it would be both of us." You counter her, knowing there isn't only one animal lover in this household you're living in.
"Nope. I would be annoyed at Fanny getting all the attention." Her voice was soft at that point, somehow. Perhaps it accidentally tumbled out her mouth from her mind. Well, you were still focused on making her say she would practically spoil Fanny from how much she'll love the dog.
"Admit it. I know you adore Lucky at least, so! I'm not wrong here." The table goes quiet, the two of you finished with your food. But a thought clicks in your head at her last few words.
"Wait. Annoyed at Fanny getting all the attention? Do you mean you want my attention all on you instead?" It's quite obvious she would, considering you were the one she loves, and you love her, but you just like teasing her.
"...No. I just said I would be annoyed." She brushes it off, taking a sip of her own drink. Her face being completely and utterly normal. But you could clearly see the hint of lying from the way she sipped her drink while talking.
"Yes you did, and you had the attention part! Don't lie, Nat. I'm sick, but I can still have a great memory." You say, proud for having caught her. But the memory part is...partly true. She finished drinking and has the most adorable smile on her face.
"Okay, okay. You're obviously out of it. And now, we will go sleep." Nat gets up from her chair, shooting you a glance of 'we will never speak about it again or you are not getting cuddles' before picking up her empty bowl along with yours to go put them in the sink.
"Excuses, excuses!" You accuse her, a playful tone in your voice. But, you follow along with her, holding both yours and her empty cup.
You were about to help her do the dishes, but she protests to you about it. Even if you did puppy eyes or whatever, she would much rather have you getting some rest.
"Go lie in bed while I finish up here, yeah, любовь? (love)" She softly said. Her hands are on your waist, ready to stop you from turning back to face the sink.
"Okay." You quietly say, nodding your head a bit. She smiles at you before letting go of her hold on you, leaving you to turn and walk off to the bedroom.
Although you did spend most of your time on the couch just earlier, the cold started to take a toll on you and catch up with all thats left of your energy. Of course it was.
You tiredly and almost practically fell on the bed, the soft mattress welcoming your body. Just when you got comfortable, Nat comes walking in the room, holding up the orca plushie you forgot and left in the living room.
You looked up with realization, and reach out with your hands. Nat almost wanted to pull it away from you just to tease you back for the dining table incident, but that adorable face of yours made her relent. And she wouldn't wanna do such a thing when you're so sick anyway.
She lets you hold the soft plush while she got on her side, shuffling closer to you until she could cuddle you. You were expecting her to keep a small distance, considering you didn't really want to get her sick either, but when she pulled you closer, you end up putting the orca plushie just above your head on the pillow and putting your arms around her instead, craving her cuddles.
Her heartbeats gently thumps against her chest, echoing to your ears since you were so close to her. In the quietness of the room, only that, and the sound of both of your soft breathing could be heard. Only if you focused closely.
There was then, a tap against the roof. Nothing scary or creepy really, just a gentle tap. Then another, and it was a little thrumming that almost matched Natasha's heartbeat. Even she was a little confused, and her eyes were set on the ceiling. You know she would keep you safe all the time. But you thought the sound was familiar.
The tapping occurs more rapidly, and then it grows into a noise of which you can only identify as rainfall. It starts pouring outside, and the air starts getting chilly. But it was perfect.
Both you and Nat relaxes a little more at the sudden, but cozy background noise. You nuzzle against her neck in search for more of her warmth. She pulls the blanket up to cover more of your body, and lets her arms retreat back to the small of your back.
Soon enough the calmness of it all had your blinking go at a slow pace, now your eyelids falling down more to closing.
Surprisingly, your stuffy nose wasn't being annoying at the moment, but perhaps you had the cold temperature to thank for that. Your throat grew a little itchy though, so you looked away from Nat to not let the germs hit her, and let out a small cough to make it go away, hoping it doesn't get worse before you're asleep.
You turn back to the comfortable spot in the crook of her neck. Nat lays a gentle kiss on the side of your head, and that was when your eyes closed fully.
Seeing the state you were in when she got back home has her heart feeling a little heavy with concern, but she'll be beside you every second, no matter how long it takes for you to get better.
"Get better soon, мое маленькое солнышко (my little sunshine)." She whispers, slowly, and ever so softly. Only the rain responded back, but the feeling of your breathing against her was enough to let her fall asleep along with you.
|—————————— ⴵ ——————————|
It was 3:35 AM. The rain outside was still ongoing, but it was a calmer, less noticeable rainfall.
You were awoken with a coughing fit, lasting a minute or so. You try to hold it in after a short break, the trapped air wanting to break out of your throat. Fortunately, or, well, unfortunately, Nat was still asleep, somehow. You'd guessed the meeting yesterday took her energy out a lot.
Not wanting to wake her, you slowly untangle yourself from her embrace, and crawl out of bed, all the while taking a few deep breaths not to go into another coughing fit. But of course, by the time you quietly leave the room, one was bound to happen once more as you make your way to the kitchen.
You open a cupboard and grab a glass, careful to make sure your grip was strong enough. After pouring yourself a glass of water and taking a sip, you sigh. The moment of it becoming worse came sooner than you expected. But that just means being sick will pass by just as quick. Or, you desperately hope it will.
Meanwhile, in the bedroom, Nat started opening her eyes to cold sheets, and her embrace was empty of any sign of you. She awoke more as she blinked. To see no sight of you as she looked around made her get out of bed quicker than being late to work has ever made her.
When she goes out the bedroom, she sees you standing in the kitchen, your shoulders tense from coughing so much. But relief flowed through her body when you appeared in her vision.
Concern came next. She snuck her hands in her pockets at the coldness the living room had to offer. She was missing the warm blankets, but she was also missing you. And you were her top priority at the moment, not to even add the given situation that's happening right now.
The sound of your awful coughing echoed to the walls and back to her ears distantly. "You didn't wake me." Her voice huskily sounded out, and you just about heard it from the horrible hell your body was giving you. Thankfully, you weren't surprised and didn't go into fight or flight mode or anything.
She walks closer until you were only centimeters away from each other. "Sorry." you whisper to her, your voice raw from your throat being so sore. One row of coughs lead to another, and soon it's the endless miserable feeling while Nat rubbed your back.
You stare off at the marble counter for a bit after opening your eyes at the two second break, trying to recollect your breathing and not cough again by taking deep breaths, but it barely helps. Natasha reaches her arm over to the side counter just next to the both of you, and grabs the water filled glass you had earlier, holding it up for you.
You had your hands gripping the marble counter in front of you, your eyes drags itself down to see the glass cup. You let go of the edge and hold the cup instead, taking a quick sip before coughing again. You slowly drank your water until your lungs calmed down.
Nat's arms go down to go around your waist, pulling herself closer to the back of your body to place her face near your neck. You could feel her nose brushing against your skin just slightly, giving you a sense of comfort.
"You want me to make you some tea?" her voice softly whispers out into the darkness while you set your empty glass down. She knows medicine is the last thing you'd want at the moment, and knowing you, you would simply say it doesn't help. And it really didn't feel like it did with how many times you've gotten sick.
You gently nod, and her eyes watches your movement. Her hand slides down to hold one of yours, squeezing it, while her other hand goes up to open a cupboard. She moved beside you to grab a teabag and a mug, then when she had to move away to grab some water and pour it to heat up in a kettle, her hand had left yours lonely.
Since she's waiting on it to warm up now, she turns to face you, her back leaning against the counter. You go closer to her, finding her hand once more. You rested your head against her chest and her free hand holds your back, surrounding you with warmth.
The minutes go by with the two of you staying in that embrace, a peaceful quietness upon the room.
"You okay?" she asks softly, as if the whole world was about to fall apart if she spoke any louder, and to you, it almost felt like so. But that was until she held you in her arms.
You couldn't tell. There wasn't a name to the feeling. Exhaustion? Maybe. You didn't give her an answer, you only held her tighter.
She understands that words may not be the best choice for you right now, and so, she pulls back slightly, but keeps a fair distance enough to not make you pout at the loss of closeness. She takes in every feature on your face. Though you may be sick, you were still the most adorable human being to her, and since you were so quiet, she takes her chance to show her love instead.
The redhead has a small smile on her face, just before she leans in to lay a kiss on the tip of your nose. The action leaves you a little stunned, because you thought she was only admiring you, but it warmed your heart either way. And then, a kiss on your forehead. At this point, she wants to get sick.
But then, she turns back around to the counter, her back now facing you. The water had heated up now, so she pours it from the kettle to the mug.
She grabs the teabag she had placed nearby earlier, and dips it into the hot water, letting it sink and soak. As that's happening, she goes ahead and grabs a spoon of sugar or so then carefully adds it into the tea, stirring it and just ever so slightly pressing on the teabag with the spoon to get it out quicker.
Once she was done she slowly spins around, making sure the hot mug wasn't anywhere close to hitting you. She then steadily makes her way back to the bedroom, with you beside her. You were careful not to accidentally bump into her either. The two of you kept focus on keeping the dangerous burning tea in the mug.
When you arrive at the bedroom, Nat places it on the bedside table, letting out a breath she unknowingly kept in. Mission accomplished. Yes, she was a trained assassin, and yes, she's an avenger, but sleep can really get to you with losing focus and a chance of spilling a drink...especially when it's dark at night like this. Well, at least the bedroom has some dim lighting on. It's dim, but not dimmer than the soft kitchen lights.
You were sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for Nat to sit beside you. When she does, she's holding the mug in her hands, blowing air to the tea to cool it down for you.
You could do it yourself, both you and the widow knew that, but considering she took the opportunity to do it for you first, you let her. Plus, the way her eyes are so focused on the ripples its causing in the liquid to make it drinkable is adorable.
You wait patiently until she slowly gives the mug over to you, keeping an eye on your fingers that you put around the handle while she holds parts of it that wasn't boiling, making sure it won't fall out of either of your hands.
You take a small sip at first, and when the temperature felt okay to you, you drink it slowly, taking breaks so your body would be able to cool down.
The hot air comes out in a breath from your mouth, The warmness of the tea going down your throat filling your body with relief and relaxation.
Once you've finished after a few more minutes, Nat had been reading a book, while at the same time keeping an eye on you. You place the mug on the bedside table, and took a glance back at Nat.
She looked so worried, so tired still because she had only gotten a small amount of rest. You started thinking on how she was taking care of you, and you wished this sickness would just stop.
The way she looks up from the pages filled with ink, just to show you a smile for you finishing the tea, it hit you just as much as the other times that you got really lucky.
What if you deserved the sickness? All this good couldn't have come without a cost...right? Wrong, darling. Nat puts the book down on her bedside table, opening her arms for you to sit within.
You still had work to be finished. The events that's happened in the past week, even the small ones couldn't leave your mind, while for others, it had been easily forgotten. You should be doing more, you thought.
But you were trying. The best you could. Nat could see that, and almost everyone else could see if they knew how to simply look into a human's eyes. You were just too soft for all of it.
She only wants you to get better. Everything else didn't matter. Even Fury, Maria, and Yelena is probably worrying about you right now.
It's all crashing down. You were in her arms, and she places a gentle kiss atop your head. Her fingers gently danced at your back, drawing meaningless patterns.
Your face seemed tired, and her heart ached at the thought of how much you're suffering. You were tired, that was for sure. It was sickness after sickness, almost every week or month. You just wanted a break.
It's a vicious cycle. Sure, you kept yourself feeling great with jokes and little happy moments, but it didn't mean the worse ones weren't gonna come bite you again at random times.
You move closer into the crook of her neck, your eyes glazed over, and you couldn't have noticed it unless the moonlight had hit your eyes. When Natasha feels tears going down her neck and down to seep into her shirt, she pulls you in closer.
"Oh, милая (sweetheart)." You tried. You tried really hard to keep it inside, but a broken sob leaves your mouth at her soft and caring tone. You've been going through so much, and she knows that, even if its small things, too.
It hurt. It really did. Your throat, the headache you get every now and then, and mentally, you weren't doing all that well either. But she holds you safely, as much as she could. And that's just all you need.
"It's okay. You'll be okay." she whispers softly. Your body shakes with the emotions you held from the past. Her hand trailed up your body just to slide it down to your lower back once more. Her other hand, has her thumb rubbing the skin just below your neck, the little movement assuring you that she was there, as she always has been, and will continue to be.
It went on for a while until you were able to calm down, only dissolving into small bur sharp intakes of breath going in your liver from all the sobbing. You went quieter with each deep breath you took, Nat along with you because she knew you could feel her breathing against you, so she does deep breaths to help you fall into the same pace as her.
She goes back to normal breathing after your little hiccup sounding noises were gone. Your eyes had closed, exhausted from everything, and the way her thumb was still going forth in an up and down motion near your neck helps into making you fall asleep.
Nat looks down on your sleeping figure, glad that you were able to get your emotions out fully, and still get your sleep in. You deserved the whole world, the galaxy, and still more than that.
She leans down, whispering a soft "I love you," just near your ear before turning off the lamp and going to sleep herself.
|—————————— ⴵ ——————————|
Bonus! - in the morning... :]
The blankets were a jumbled mess, but it still kept the both of you warm, and somehow had no little holes that the cold could sneak into.
She continues to read her book with the fairy lights she turned on on the bedpost helping her see the words written. The redhead awoke just a few minutes ago, and she would be doing her morning routine or getting breakfast ready by now, but with you on her body, getting the rest you needed, she didn't have it in herself to move.
The soft orange light from the bedroom bouncing off the walls blends with the blue sky, making itself known by going through the windows and illuminating a part of the room.
Nat had forgotten to close the curtains the night before, having been too preoccupied in taking care of you. But even so, just seeing the scene coming alive in front of her makes her feel a little more at peace.
You, too, seemed much more at peace.
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A/N: If you look closely you could notice sweet nothing by taylor hidden throughout this <3
taglist <3 - join here! :]
@notevenanna @ludasgf @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous @justanotherteenpoet @fxckmiup @dmenby3100 @natsbraids-deactivated20231115 :( @animealways @natashasilverfox @wandsmxmff
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mika-no-sekai-blog · 3 months
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Word count: 2300+
Warnings: mentions of puking, emotional and mental stress, mixed feelings
Honestly, this part was a pure struggle💦 Except of Rhysand's offer that I wanted in this chapter I had nothing..
Also I've got a little carried away🤷
Part X | Part XII
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Two weeks had passed since Rhysand, your brother, brought you to his court. You calmed down a bit, partly accepting the situation and giving him the chance he asked you for. Maybe the powder he mixed every morning into your tea, could have something to do with it. Not even honey could beat over the bitterness that remained on the tongue.
Of course, you could refuse the tea, but you were afraid someone would force it down your throat anyway. You felt Rhysand watching you carefully until the teacup was empty and only then the tension in the room eased. And so dutifully pretending you didn't notice anything, you drank it.
Whatever was that powder for, your desire to return home hadn't changed at all. At this point you felt really homesick, trying to hide it in front of others. It was useless to show your weaknesses, your vulnerability. Nobody would help you get out of here anyway.
You were gradually introduced to Rhysand's friends and family. Some of them claimed to know you since you were a newborn, some seemed to be new additions like Feyre, your brother's mate, and her sisters. Everyone was nothing but nice and friendly to you, but you were still uncomfortable around them.
Every time Rhysand had some free time, he spent it with you, showing you the city or taking you for walk in the large garden around the house while telling you stories of past. Morrigan, your cousin, did the same. They tried really hard to make you remember something.
Even now you were sitting with Mor on terrace of some cafe in the city, river running under it, attracting your attention like a magnet.
She told you that before you had been basically best friends, always spending time together and breaking all the rules parents set. However it didn't help to change your feelings or to be more relaxed with her. It was apparent she had a certain expectations and it made you even more uneasy. Just like with Rhysand.
Today she took you out to drink an ice tea, the drink she claimed to be your absolute favourite one. Before.
After the first few sips you swore never touch it again. It was everything except of delicious or tea.
You tried to keep up with her, listening to all the memories that supposed to be yours, but it felt rather as memories of someone else, someone so different it couldn't be you. None of the things you'd been told so far, felt familiar. It just made you tired and your head threatened to explode with pain.
You were trapped in this strange city, with these strangers. You couldn't sleep, eat nor drink, hardly dragging yourself through the days. Large garden around Rhysand's house took some of the stress away, but it wasn't enough. You needed the forest, your cottage, walks in nature, fresh air. You needed even him, although it hurt to even think about him. The first few days you still hoped he would appear and take you back home, but your hope died like plucked flowers in a vase leaving only a bleeding hole in your heart.
Mor finally gave up and took you back to your brother's house. She had that strange expression that reminded you of a mask holding all her emotions back, only her eyes revealed some sort of sadness. You were sure she would go to Rhysand and tell him about your afternoon, about your lack of response or interest. She always did. You couldn't care less. You weren't here by choice, you didn't want this. None of this.
Letting a sigh of relieve out, you went up the stairs and shut the door of your room behind. You needed to be alone, another thing that was very rare to have here. There was always someone with you and even when they left, you still felt eyes hidden in the dark corners following you around. Were you becoming paranoid? Most likely yes. But the unpleasant ticklish feeling on the back of your neck was always present.
You wanted to curl up in a ball and cry your eyes out, but first you had to go to toilet. This city, this house, all of them reeked of magic so strong that you were nonstop on the edge, hardly managing to hide the nausea from them. Another weakness you didn't want them to know about. A few gulps of ice tea you forced in, left your body, but it didn't help. Real relief never came.
Panting you moved to the sink to rinse your mouth. You rather avoided the mirror knowing what you would see. Dark circles under the eyes caused by bloody nightmares that wouldn't let you sleep, sunken cheeks because you couldn't eat and anything you managed to force down, ended up in toilet as soon as you were in your room. You didn't know how long your body could keep going like this, but you knew it wouldn't be long.
You returned to your room and winced in surprise. Rhysand stood in front of the bathroom door with tortured expression, his brows furrowed, jaw tightened, fingers clenched into fists on his sides. His violet-blue eyes searched yours. He seemed to want to say something, but his lips were firmly pressed together.
Great. Now he knew. You tried to avoid his gaze and get to the armchair near the window. But he stopped you. His arms embraced you, pulling you to his chest. You just stood there, unsure what to do. Even if you tried you couldn't fight him off.
"Tell me what should I do," he whispered to your hair. There was so much pain in his voice. Funny.
As far as you knew, he sincerely cared about you. Problem was you couldn't return the sentiment. No smile or amount of shared memories could change it. You weren't the person he remembered anymore. Asking him to let you go back to your cottage was a waste of time, too. You already tried it and he refused.
After a few heartbeats Rhysand recovered, his hands stopped trembling. Instead he moved them to your cheeks, thumbs caressing them gently.
"I talked with Madja, the healer who visited you this morning," he led you to bed and sat down. You did so, too. "She said you are exhausted and need a good night sleep. She left this tonic to help you sleep soundly." He put small bottle on the nightstand. "Two drops before going to bed would do," he smirked, but his eyes stayed sad.
You looked at vial. Another medicine to control you and your feelings. Even though you knew he meant this well, it only added on your anger. You rather stayed silent, decided to never take the mixture.
He seemed to choose next words carefully. "However she couldn't find a cause for your.." His voice died out and eyes wandered back to bathroom door. So he had noticed it even before. Of course. It wasn't surprising at all. He also knew about the nightmares after all. "Until now I didn't want to pressure you. I hoped you could meet our family, get to know them again and the memories would begin to appear on it's own. But it doesn't work, does it."
You shook head. He gave you another sad smile and looking down Rhys started to play with your fingers. Silence filled the room.
"Aury-"
"Don't call me that," you snapped. You were allergic to that name. Whoever that Auriela person was, she was dead. You weren't her.
"I'm sorry, Y/N. I didn't mean to offend you.. It's just.. habit.. kind of comfort. I didn't hope that I would ever see you again or talk to you. But I wished every day you were here with me. I wished you were alive. You and our mother." Tears filled his eyes and he blinked to get rid of them. You didn't react.
High Lord cleared his throat. "I.. Let's talk openly. About everything." He swallowed hard. "I'm trying to understand how you feel, what's going on with you, how you lived all this time.. and I'm terribly failing. Please. I want to understand. Whoever you are now, I'm accepting it. I don't want to change you. I just want my sister back. The closeness we had." He watched you with desperate expression.
You frowned, confused. No matter how many times he reminded you that he was your family, for you they were only words. It'd never occurred to you to try to see it from his point of view. Apparently you weren't the only one to suffer in this situation. Thinking that maybe he deserved to get a chance, that you should give him a chance to get closer, you nodded.
His eyes widened for a moment, then he blinked rapidly and ran fingers through his dark hair. "Okay." He cleared his throat again.
"To be honest I thought you wouldn't accept my offer," he muttered, visibly taken aback by your willingness to discuss things with him openly. "I haven't thought the things over-.. Where to start?"
"How about you tell me what's that powder you add to my drink?" You frowned at him, expecting him to deny it.
"Oh, that," he gave you a small smile, squeezing your hands. "We noticed you are still in pain. Azriel said you seem to have headache constantly. He also suffers from it, so no wonder he noticed the subtle signs. And I quite often saw you wincing while moving around," he explained, noting the disbelief on your face. Then he added quietly. "I'm really sorry for what happened when we arrived. It's all my fault."
You were speechless. It was hard to believe it, but all about the headache and the muscle pain was true. It also made you realise how much they paid you attention even if they weren't looking directly at you. "Thank you," you murmured.
Silence stretched.
Rhysand watched you, pondering. "Would you tell me why.. what causes.." his head tilted in the bathroom door's direction.
Did he have to take out that topic again? You inhaled deeply, preparing for the worst kind of conversation. You wished for Tamlin to be with you. He'd never asked these things. He was very observant and intuitive. He noticed your fear of magic and never asked you why or what caused it. Not that you could explain any of that. He silently accepted that part of you and avoided using powers around you. With him, it was so easy. Everything was easy and full of happiness. You blinked quickly to get rid of such thoughts.
"It's because of magic.." you said, taking your hands from Rhysand's and instead you wrapped them around your chest protectively. "I don't like it. It makes me feel sick. Always did. This city, this house, you all stink with magic.."
Rhysand froze on the spot, he seemingly forgot to even breathe. "I had no idea," he whispered. His scent shifted, the air in your room changed, too. The smell of power disappeared, only the subtle citrus scent remained. After weeks you could finally breathe freely and relax a bit. It felt so good that closing your eyes you smiled. Rhysand's eyes tracked that movement. "Is it better now?"
"Much better. Thank you."
"What happened? You used to have no problems with magic before, even used it yourself."
"I don't know," you answered honestly. Walls around your heart cracked a bit, letting him in. "I don't remember what or who I was before. I don't remember any of you."
This time he only nodded, probably expecting it.
He asked you to be honest, so you were. You almost regretted what you were about to tell him. "All this time it feels as if you were telling me about a life of someone else. I couldn't be more different from the person you knew."
Lowering his gaze Rhysand stood up and strolled to the window. Leaning against its frame he looked out to the garden, his back turned to you. You didn't know what he felt at that moment, but you were torn. He was still stranger to you, yet you didn't want to hurt him. After all you weren't a cruel being and maybe, just maybe, you began to feel a certain kind of affection for him that you didn't want to admit.
"So you really don't remember what happened that night," he asked, snapping you out of thoughts.
"That night?"
"The night our mother died. The night you supposedly died, too."
"I-.." Images of streams of blood staining the ground, running down your arms that you saw in your nightmares, popped out. Pressing fingers to your temple you shook your head to push them away. Rhysand watched you out of the corner of his eyes over the shoulder. "I'm not sure."
"Dear sister," he sighed, his voice suddenly cold and distanced. "Do you know what my powers are? What daemati can do?"
You'd never heard about daemati, but the feeling that you should know that, remained and was strong. It sounded like something you should be afraid of. "No, I don't."
"I can look into your pretty head, see any memory I want, change them if I wish so. I can also crush the minds, but that's not what I'm offering you here. I could try to revive your memories. I could take away the fear that some of them make you feel." He slowly turned to you, watching you with wariness. "Would you like me to try that? Do you want to remember your past life?"
You stiffened, cold shiver running down your spine, breath catching in your throat. Could he do that? And more importantly did you want him to do it? You needed time to consider his offer. It wasn't an easy decision.
"It's up to you. You have as much time as you need." And with these words he left, leaving you alone with your confused mind.
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Taglist:
@impossibelle @sevikas-whore @b0xerdancer @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @tele86 @mybestfriendmademe @nocasdatsgay
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vidavalor · 7 months
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Hi! Hope you're having a nice day! So, I love your metas, however, I confess the, idk tecnicalities? logistics? of a twist that they've been together the whole time still puzzle me. What would the narrative purpose of such a reveal be? Why and how would it be put into the story? I guess what I'm saying is I'd really, really like you to be correct but I'm sadly still skeptical that it could actually happen :(
Hi! Thanks for the ask. Hope you're having a nice day yourself. :) I'll give you a cheeky answer and then a real one, if you don't mind. @procrastiel also asked me to talk more about "no nightingales" and it fit into the second half of my answer here so this is kind of a combination ask response to both of you.
This gif below this paragraph here? Yeah, this is *not* the scene from 1.01 that, when decoded from their language, says they're having sex. I am not being sarcastic-- it is *not* this scene. This scene is in that meta (which is being edited, so, soon) because how could it not be, really, but *this scene* is *not* that scene lol and, yet, some people still find the idea of them sleeping together surprising:
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Anon, this is, like, the third, joint Crowley & Aziraphale scene in Episode 1.01 and that is consensual, mutually beneficial, kink. One that both has a sense of humor and puts a smile on your face, as Mrs. Sandwich would put it.
Let's thought experiment a bit here. Let's say this is the extent of it. It absolutely is not lol but, for the experiment, let's say it is. Let's say that they've never taken each other to bed, they've never lent each other a hand, so to speak, they've never anything else you're thinking of right now-- nothing. The most significant physical contact they will have ever had pre-2.06 in this thought experiment is holding hands on the bus on the way back from Tadfield which, as we all know, isn't a sexual thing. Anyone can hold hands and it was a long week, but let's say that's it. They would then *still* have a sexual element to their relationship and the show gave you that information in 1.01. What is happening in this scene is a form of sex. It's already in the show that they are having sex. Yeah, they're having more and different sex than this and yeah, there is evidence of it and yeah, meta finished soon, but honestly... there is actually *a lot* of suggestion of Crowley & Aziraphale sleeping together. For now, we'll just talk about this scene here...
Crowley liking to watch is such a thing that it's now a recurring joke on the show. You don't think that "can I watchhhhh" while he follows Aziraphale around the neighborhood in S2 wasn't Crowley self-deprecatingly poking fun at the fact that he's got a bit of a voyeuristic thing happening? "Can I slither over and watch you eat cake?" in Good Omens: Lockdown?... Anon. Girl.
Crowley isn't just scientifically intrigued by Aziraphale eating lunch. He's not just super happy that his pal is having a very delicious meal. He is very, very, very sexually into watching Aziraphale eat...which is to say that he's into watching Aziraphale allow himself to experience pleasure, in the face of the repression of the Heaven mentality... and Aziraphale isn't just indulging this in a one-sided way where, for whatever reason, he lets his best friend of 6,000 years get turned on watching him have lunch but they don't talk about it or something and Aziraphale lets it go because he's got no one else to talk to lol. Aziraphale is equally into this. It's easy to see why and the more the show tells you about Aziraphale, the easier it is.
Aziraphale, into Crowley watching him? Aziraphale, who painted every damn room in his house the color of Crowley's pretty, Va-Va-Voom Yellow eyes? Aziraphale, who has scene after scene after scene after scene of looking irritated and jealous at literally anything else Crowley is ever looking at and calls beautiful? lol That angel is into the undivided attention of the Serpent of Eden, ok?
Crowley made the stars in the sky. He's a creator and an innovator and an engineer and an artist. He's been on Earth since the start and has seen basically everything beautiful humanity has ever made. He drives one of the finest examples of human ingenuity-- his beautiful Bentley. He's seen The Pyramids and watched Da Vinci paint The Mona Lisa and saw first-run Shakespeare performed at The Globe. He has an eye for art and beauty... and he's the original temptress. It was Crowley who tempted Eve into eating the apple and when Eve ate that apple and discovered the pleasures of food, she and Adam created that whole Biblical fruits of knowledge metaphor by getting up to some other forms of pleasure soon after, so, Crowley is basically responsible for free thought and pleasure throughout all of human history since the Garden of Eden... and what drives him out of his mind with want is Aziraphale enjoying himself.
I mean, enjoying his food. Totally just his food. Only his food, Anon. *slight smirk*
Aziraphale is absolutely into that. Crowley likes to watch and Aziraphale likes being watched in that way. Crowley looking at him like he's more beautiful than nebulae and statues of Gabriel is attention that is absolutely welcome by Aziraphale. Two of his favorite things at once-- a luxurious, scrumptious lunch and a turned on Crowley. Aziraphale's ideal day lol. That angel is watching Crowley watch him and loving every minute of it. It's as delicious as his actual lunch. Look at that little glance over at him. C'mon lol.
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They do this from time to time. What do you think the results are? What would happen if you kinky-lunched with your best friend and how low are the odds that this is the only sexual thing the two of you have managed to get up to in the 6,000 years you've been on Earth? When one of you is a raging hedonist and the other likes to take beautiful things apart to see how they work?
This scene and its character knowledge is dropped into the middle of the first episode of the show with zero context and 10/10 no notes that was the single most hilarious way this extremely funny show could have ever chosen to do this but this is something the show chose to not only tell us about but to then provide context for in 2.02.
They gave kinky lunch an origin story, Anon lol. They were like also, you should probably know about Bildad at the ox rib special... you see, that hot lunch from 2008 actually started in *2,500 B.C.* when Crowley offered Aziraphale some barbecue and Aziraphale, who had never eaten before, ate an entire ox while Crowley lounged in the corner with a jug of wine and fantasized about being Aziraphale's dinner and before you yell at me, Anon, for sexualizing barbecue when really, sometimes, one just loves a good cookout, I agree with you.
Enjoying food does not have to be a sexual experience. I mean, I've had some pasta that could have given me an orgasm but... what makes ox rib cellar night sexual isn't how much Aziraphale is like omg food is delicious, I eat now, maybe forever, this is amazing. It's how he *looks an aroused Crowley dead in the eye while fully aware of how into watching him Crowley is and then goes back to enjoying his barbecue.*
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The next day, he's cracking Crowley up by using the ox ribs in their whole plot to save the kids by having that be what Sitis pulls out of Job's ribs. Gabriel and the angels think sex is rib removal so Crowley and Aziraphale are jointly, from across a room, like the previous night coordinating a kind of pseudo-sex to fool the angels and Aziraphale puts the ox ribs into the pseudo-sex, joking with Crowley about their own sex-that's-not-exactly-traditional-sex-but-was-way-more-sex-than-this from the night before. He winks at Crowley and gives him two thumbs up when he sets up the ox rib bit of it and Bildad was like do not laugh in front of the angels do not laugh in front of the angels...
It was absolutely an intentional joke on Aziraphale's part, poking light fun at their night of figuring out that they have a pair of wildly compatible, mutually arousing kinks that can bring them some fun and showing they have a sense of humor about themselves-- something that is on display a lot, actually.
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They're very aware of this and very funny about it and it has been going on since 2,500 B.C., Anon. S2 was just like Bildad at the ox rib special was the first time they had a form of sex, fyi, so yeah, that's why I would not be surprised if S3 has some flashback where they're semi-dressed in Aziraphale's bedroom or something and the implication is that they also have sex that doesn't involve food. The show is also already saying that they do and other scenes already suggest it but we'll save that for the main meta on this topic.
Ok, so my less cheeky, more technical answer :)
To be clear about what I'm saying here so we're on the same page about what S3 could potentially maybe bring... I'm not saying that there's a 25 minute long minisode that's nothing but them getting busy. It would likely be a bit more subtle than that. I say that and then also they did drop food kink into 1.01 and had that hilarious Newt & Anathema scene in S1 so who knows lol but basically, I think there's a flashback in S3 somewhere that is a little more direct about the fact that they've been sleeping together and for a long time. It doesn't need to be anything wild. It doesn't even need to be anything but suggestive of it. A friend of mine thinks it's my The Blitz, Part 3 theory but that they're in bed when Greta gets into the bookshop. All I know is that it's suspicious to me that the only room in the bookshop they haven't really shown us so far is Aziraphale's bedroom. Probably because there's at least some subtle evidence of Crowley in it and they're dragging that out a bit. The one thing I do think though for sure is that we get the vavoom-y first kiss and it being a bonkers amount of time ago, to re-contextualize basically all of their scenes that come after it, which will wind up being most scenes. I don't presume to be correct about details about stuff we haven't seen as I would not dream that I could predict the how, just maybe that I've got the overall vibes right at this point. I won't place any bets about how they'd work in a more direct implication of sex. I might on The Vavoom, though. I've got a solid feeling about that.
For the record, I wouldn't really consider them in bed a twist (as you might have gotten from the tone of this meta lol) but I can see how some people would. If your skepticism is coming at all, even in part, from a place of something like this just not frequently done on tv, I'd say, well, you might have also thought they weren't going to kiss, either, and *gestures in the general direction of Every and doesn't gif it because we've all been through enough* lol. The show is very, very queer-friendly and has a showrunner and actors who seem game enough so none of that is really an impediment to this.
Good Omens is telling its story out of chronological order, for the most part, for what amount to two main reasons: because it lends additional meaning to its themes and because it's fun as hell. The narrative purpose of adding additional context to Crowley & Aziraphale's relationship is to add to your understanding of it because your understanding of it is one of the main ways the show is conveying a lot of its themes. They are the story so adding context to the story to drive meaning is never is not without narrative purpose. By telling the story out of sequence, you wind up engaging your audience to focus more on what you're saying in every scene because you've taught them to look for the layers you're building.
Good Omens told you "no nightingales"-- had Crowley use nightingales and confirm that it's a word in his and Aziraphale's language-- in the same scene in which they showed you them kissing for the first time (and, for them, the worst time lol) to help bury the lede that this other scene earlier in the season is actually telling you about their first kiss. (By setting this up, they now have to show you it, suggesting it's in S3.) The other scene is obviously Crowley taking advantage of the fact that Aziraphale just asked him to play Cupid (and called Crowley romantic in doing so, btw-- "I don't think she [Maggie] knows how to conduct a courtship" implying that Aziraphale feels that Crowley does and that's why Aziraphale has run to his very romantic partner for help). Aziraphale is asking him to help the shop lesbians fall in love and Crowley uses the moment to demonstrate that romantic side by describing back to Aziraphale their first kiss as, to him, the epitome of romance:
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Good Omens intentionally shows you stuff and then gives you more context that helps you understand it later. It spent two seasons getting you to know more about nightingales than Sir David Attenborough for the express purpose of eventually answering your question in 2.06. The question: do all these references to these romantic birds really mean that Crowley & Aziraphale are aware of them and the nightingales mean something to them or are the nightingales just a metaphor for them?
And even if a part of you was still going awfully interesting choice of metaphor since this is all romantic as all hell the whole time, you're still not sure until 2.06 if it's symbolism and metaphor and if the show is ever going to weave it totally into Crowley & Aziraphale directly, even if a few clues seem to suggest that they have been doing so all along. Like that "A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square" is playing on the piano at The Ritz in S1 (implying one of them either asked or magically influenced the pianist to play it, implying that it's their song/a song with meaning to them/their parallel to Ineffable Bureaucracy's "Everyday", as we'd say after S2.) Most significantly, that Aziraphale in 1967 seems to be referencing it in a coded way when he tells Crowley that maybe, one day, in the future, they could dine at the Ritz, in a scene that's almost impossible to read as anything but a discussion about their relationship.
Cut to 2.06 when Crowley busts this out:
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The show is now like remember when we taught you that nightingales are symbolic of romance? Well, we had to so that you'd understand that here is nightingales being used by Crowley as the shorthand word in their language for their romance. We taught you that dining at the Ritz is the act of trying to live live a little more openly with that romance, as well as meaning to literally dine at the Ritz, and that it's a reference to the lyric in "A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square." Here's Crowley talking about it. Here's him using the word nightingales in a coded way and Aziraphale understanding him. Here's confirmation of this word existing between them as the word they use when talking about this romance of theirs long before this scene in 2.06 takes place. Here's confirmation that they are in a romantic relationship with one another. Crowley using "nightingales" and Aziraphale understanding him means that it means their romantic relationship in their language... which means they have a word for their romantic relationship in their language... which is to say that they have a romantic relationship.
People do have romantic relationships without having kissed one another before or without having sex but do beings who kinky lunch? Probably not. No nightingales recontextualizes the kiss in its same scene for us the way that Crowley lifting the magic for a moment as he walked away in Job's courtyard recontextualized what had happened earlier in that scene for Aziraphale. When Crowley got Aziraphale to see the crows were the key, Aziraphale understood what had just happened in the scene. When, in 2.06, Crowley says no nightingales, it's for us, this time. Not Aziraphale. He already knows how to speak their language. Even if it's the first time *you've* seen them kiss, no nightingales exists to show you that it's not the first time they ever have.
You don't have a word in a secret language unless you need it. You don't talk about a romantic relationship with one another that you don't have. Crowley pointing to Heaven the way he did when he had Muriel arrest him and saying no nightingales is Crowley saying their romantic relationship, at that moment, felt incompatible with Aziraphale going to Heaven. Heaven means no nightingales-- no romance. He doesn't know how they can continue *the romantic relationship that they already have* if Aziraphale is leaving.
2.06 is not their first kiss; it is probably the worst kiss they've ever had and they've had thousands. It was desperation in the failure of surface communication and double speak alike both seeming to fail them in the moment. Aziraphale touches his mouth with a shaking hand after Crowley leaves and thinks about how he wants him to come back and do it again because imagine loving your soulmate for six millennia and it's going to end with that kiss. This is not a show that's going to permanently break your heart here. Everyone basically already knows how it ends and it's sweet. It's called Good Omens. You really think a show like this is going to make these two adorable supernatural dorks that are its protagonists have had a depressing first kiss? Especially when they're already hinting at how they're going to reveal in S3 that it was really the complete opposite of one? And that it was a really, really long time ago...
If you look back on the nightingales references prior to this, right, you realize that this word has existed in their vocabulary for a long time. "A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square" was playing on the piano at the end of S1 so nightingales was already in their vocabulary then. They were already involved romantically in S1. The scene as they agree to go to lunch ahead of the end of S1 has Aziraphale saying that they should go to The Ritz and when we get in there and see them at lunch, we realize we've already been here with them in the first episode and that the show chose to only tell us in the season 1 finale. They tell you things and then add in context to give them additional layers of meaning later.
They dined at The Ritz in 2008 for the first time in 1.01, doing what Aziraphale had suggested in 1.03, so there are nightingales in the beginning, middle and end of S1 pretty directly. Aziraphale having suggested this in 1967 means that nightingales already meant romance to them then. It's *why* Aziraphale uses dining at the Ritz to describe having that more open romance as something he would like-- literally and metaphorically. It comes from the song, which was first performed in 1940. It suggests that the references to this song for them probably tie to The Blitz in 1941, which we almost certainly have a Part 3 to coming in S3. It would be a safe bet "A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square" is in it somewhere. Whatever happens then will also wind up re-contextualizing the "no nightingales" moment and adding additional meaning to it that we don't yet know but we know enough already to understand that nightingales = romance.
But when Crowley says no nightingales in 2.06, he frames it by asking Aziraphale to stop and listen, in a reference to the formation of their secret language in the Job courtyard. In a reference to those other birds-- crows-- that hid the goats and formed the basis of Crowley's name. Nightingales and dining at the Ritz might have existed for them since WW2 as words but there were other words that pre-date it and by framing the nightingales comment in such a way as to also reference Job, it's a reminder of how their romance isn't new. It's thousands of years old. The crows were nightingales, long before they ever admitted it, let alone got a song.
World's hottest, most romantic buddy comedy, I tell ya...
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d0g0r0t · 8 months
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I have such a specific request for ticci Toby head cannon, as seen in the timeline 30 year old Toby got institutionalized.My question is what he doing????
Not necessarily how he got there but maybe his reaction to being separated from you for an extended period of time?
Thank you : DD
Currently kicking my feet up in the air thinking about this 
When Toby got institutionalized
OMG I L9VE THIS IDWJNAKDNR
Pt2
Pt3
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When he got caught he went fucking MENTAL on everyone and everything around him. Not because he got caught because he was being taken away from you
The moment he was in the facility he wouldn't talk to anyone, and when he did it would be lash outs screaming, kicking, punching, slapping, biting, anything to cause a scene and the most trouble
And when he did have these melt downs he would be locked in one of those rubber rooms so he wouldn't hurt himself or anyone else
After about a week you were all he thought about. During free time he would draw you and write little poems about you. And every time a person asked who you were he give them the most drop dead stare
The idea of you not by his side sent him into a deep depression. He would rot in his bed for hours and would only come out if he was physically dragged out. He would eat unless he we held down and food shoved down his throat.
Doctors tried getting a reason out of him but he wouldn't budge.
The only time he did talk about you was when he accidentally slipped and said your name in such a sad and weak manner
It was honestly sad to see
He missed you so so so much It actually pained him that he couldn't see you. He knew he had to get out some how but he didn't know what that some how was.
He would see you in his dreams and every time he woke he would sob quietly into his pillow
You were his only reason of actually trying anymore. And now that he was taken away from you he couldn't even function
He loved you with all his heart and not having you in the same room as him made him angry at the world
There was multiple reports of people catching him mumbling you name in his sleep or going into full on breaks as he stared at the wall for hours. They had to let him snapped out of it at his own time or else someone would get seriously hurt
GUESS WHO SILLY GUY WAS THINKG ABOUT?!??!
YOU!!!!!
___________________________________________
He was sentenced to 355 years in the mental facility.
He had a reputation there to say the least. Everyone feared him. People thought he was crazy with the whole slenderman thing and all the murders. It was a shocker to them he wasn't caught sooner
How I think he got caught was when he was cornered by a large group of cops and literally had no where to go. He knew if he swung he would be shot on the spot so with a lot of thinking he gave in
Once he snapped at this guy and killed him with a coloring pencil...
Loser
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THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE REQUEST I HOPE THIS IS OK AND UP TO YOUR STANDARDS!!!! HAVE A GOOD DAY!!!!
Bro got thrown in the silly bin
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