Tumgik
#She was suffering and nobody cared. She had been there for days. And for what? To die by blunt force trauma and end up in the festering
saturdaymournings · 5 months
Text
Just watched pignorant and holy fucking shit was it crazy.
0 notes
daincrediblegg · 6 months
Text
no you know what I'm going to scream about the stuff I talked about in the tags of this post publicly
I'm tired of the well-meaning "don't feel bad if your work only gets 20 notes your genius is what counts and do it for you!" bullshit. I've had a good handful of friends who have straight up DEACTIVATED in recent months because their work was not getting reblogged AT ALL. No, it wasn't from lack of not being well-liked, no it wasn't from lack of trying to make sure it was getting out there to the people they knew would engage with it. It was because no matter how much they were praised privately for their work, when push came to shove, absolutely NOBODY reblogged it and gave it the audience that it was due, and I'm tired of people shoving the "unsung genius" narrative as an excuse for it. Nothing excuses that. And the boop event really proved that.
because I know given the opportunity, indiscriminately pressing a button (sometimes 10 thousand times, as I did) is not beyond this website's capability. y'all loved doing that. and look at what it wrought. nothing but love and affection and happiness. just from a couple of quick clicks of a little paw button. sure. nobody knew who you booped but the other person (which is how likes used to work on this website, btw). there was an element of anonymity to it. but that is kind of the core of this website that no other social media platform still has: the ability to be anonymous. and hyper-curating a blog on here like you might on twitter or instagram to project an image is simply not viable. and hey. you wanna know a secret: literally nobody cares what you post or whether it goes with the "theme" of your blog or not. yeah. I know. CRAZY concept in this day and age. but literally. I myself have reblogged things that have had nothing to do with whatever I am currently fixated by and you know what happened to my follower count? not a damn thing. in fact, I actively try to reblog things specifically BECAUSE it's my friends who made them (even though I'm not always good at KEEPING UP WITH HOW MUCH THEY POST @prismatica-the-strange will NEVER GO UNRECOGNIZED by me).
And you know what fucking sucks? I have to deal with this too. surprise right? you ever wonder why I reblog fics or art I post like 20 times the day that I post them? do you ever wonder why I ask about tag lists and beg for asks all the time? IT'S BECAUSE EVEN I GET LIKE. 5 LIKES ON THE THINGS I POST. AND THE REST OF THE REBLOGS ARE MINE SO I CAN MAKE SURE THAT PEOPLE WHO WANT TO SEE WHAT I MAKE GET TO SEE IT. and I say that knowing that I'm certainly not an unpopular blog, or an unpopular writer. I know that people love the stories that I create. Hell, half of the people that I've talked to about lady terror have told me that they consider her to be canon (AND EVEN SOME!! THOUGHT SHE WAS!!! WITHOUT EVEN HAVING WATCHED THE SHOW! WHICH IS STILL SO SO WILD TO ME!!!) But especially in the last 4 years (which really dates this phenomenon), my posts, no matter how well received they've been amongst people I've talked to about them directly, I still go into the notes and at least half (often more than half) are MY reblogs to make sure people saw what I posted. and it happens every single time, and I can't tell you how much it crushes me considering that it used to be that I would be able to post it only once, and people would reblog it sometimes even HUNDREDS of times.
It's not about popularity. it never has been. it's not about anxiety. or shifting website cultures. even if you lurk, the simple fact is, that if you want people to keep making what you love. you have to reblog. your theme won't suffer because you reblogged a fanfiction that you really admire. your posting won't be ruined because you reblogged some fanart from someone in a different fandom. really. I promise. and if people do unfollow you for that? who needs em. followers come and go but you should NEVER have to cater to them. on this website it has ALWAYS been the other way around. lean into it. make it yours. put stuff you ACTUALLY WANT to be seen and that you love and appreciate on your blog. no matter how old it is, how new it is, no matter how niche or off-theme it is.
so please. if you really want to show your appreciation for someone's work? you reblog. it's really as easy as that. check the tags. add some when you reblog if you like. but please for the love of god reblog. it's as easy as booping and even more rewarding for the people who you reblog from. if you want to let someone know that their work is genius and appreciate it? show it. reblog. then DM them if you're too nervous to say what you want to say but not in a public forum. but for christ's sake. REBLOG.
2K notes · View notes
inkskinned · 8 months
Text
you have to go to work so you can pay for your doctor, who is not taking your insurance right now, and if you say i can't afford the doctor's you are told - get a better job. it is very sad that you are unwell, yes, but maybe you should have thought about that before not having a better job.
(where is the better job? who is giving out these better jobs? you are sick, you are hurting - how the hell are you supposed to be well enough for this better job?)
but you go to the doctor because you had the nerve to be hurt or sick or whatever else. and they tell you that it is because you have anxiety. you try your best. you are a self-advocate. you've done the reading (which sometimes pisses them off worse, honestly). you say it is actually adding to my anxiety, it is effecting my quality of life. so they say that you are fat. they say that all young people have this happen to them, isn't it a medical marvel! they say that you should eat more vegetables. they say that you probably just need to lose a little more weight, and that you are faking it for attention.
(what attention could this doctor possibly give? what validation? that's their fucking job, isn't it?)
there is always a hypochondriac, right. someone always tells you about a hypochondriac. or someone who is unnecessarily aggressive during the worst days of their life. or someone looking "for a quick fix". or some idiot who wasn't educated about how to properly care for themselves who just abandons their treatment. and again, the hypochondriac, the overly-cautious hysteric. these people don't deserve to be treated like humans (right), and since you might be one of these people, you also don't get treated like a human. because those people can really fuck with the system, you now have to pay for it. and besides. you're actually probably faking it.
(more often than not, you find a 2:1 ratio of these stories. for every "hypochondriac", there are 2 people who knew something was wrong, and yet nobody could fucking find it. the story often ends with pointless suffering. the story often ends with and now it's too late, and it's going to kill me.)
you are actually just making excuses. someone else got that procedure or that diagnosis and he's fine, you should be fine too. someone else said they watched a documentary about other inspirational people with your exact same condition, maybe you should be inspirational, too. you're just too morbid. your pain and your experience is probably just not statistically concerning. it is all self-reported anyway, and you're just being a baby.
(once, while sitting down in the middle of making coffee, you had the sudden, horrible thought - i could kill myself to make the pain stop. you had to call your best friend after that. had to pet your dog. had to cry about it in the shower. you won't, but that moment - god, fuck. the pain just goes on and on.)
you know someone who went in for routine surgery and said i still feel everything. they told her to just relax. it took her kicking and screaming before they figured out she wasn't lying - the anesthetic drip hadn't been working. you know someone who went in for severe migraines who was told drink water and lose weight. you know someone who was actively bleeding out and throwing up in the ER and was told you're just having a bad period.
in the ER there are always these little posters saying things like "don't wait! get checked today!" and you think about how often you do wait. how often the days spool out. you once waited a full week before seeing the doctor for what you thought was a sprained wrist. it had actually been broken - they had to rebreak it to set it.
but you go into the doctor. the problem you're having is immediate. the person behind the counter frowns and says we're not taking your insurance. you will be paying for this out-of-pocket.
they send you home with tylenol and a little health packet about weight loss or anxiety or attention deficit. on the front it has your birthday and diagnosis. you think about crying, and the words swim. it might as well say go fuck yourself. it might as well say you're a fucking idiot. it might as well say light your money on fire and lie down in it. and the entire fucking time - the problem persists.
it's okay. it's okay, it's just another thing, you think. it's just another thing i have to learn to live with.
#spilled ink#warm up#can you tell what i'm mad about today specifically#i will say that there are a LOT of things that go into this. like a lot. this is ungendered and unspecific for a reason#it isn't just sexism. it's also racism. and ableism. and honestly classism.#and before a healthcare professional reads this as a personal attack: i understand ur burnt out#we are ALSO burnt out. your situation is also dire. this is not an attack on you.#this is a commentary on the incredible amounts of bigotry that lie at the heart of capitalism#where people have to pay money out of pocket to be told to fuck off.#your job is important. so is our humanity. and if you cannot accept that people are fucking mad as hell#at the industry - you are probably not listening .#anyway at some point im gonna write a piece about sexism specifically in medical shit#but i don't want terfs clowning in it bc they can't understand nuance#> it is true that ppl w/a uterus are more likely to experience medical malpractice & dismissal globally#> it is also true that trans people experience an equally fucked up and bad time in the medical field#> great news! the medical industrial complex is an equal opportunity life ruiner :)#(if you find it necessary to go into a debate about biology while discussing medical malpractice#i want to warn you that you're misunderstanding the issue. because guess what.#cis MEN might experience this. particularly black men. particularly disabled men.#so YES having a uterus can lead to more trouble for you. but this happens a LOT.#instead of fighting those ALSO experiencing your pain.... try working WITH them.#which btw. is like. actual feminism.)
2K notes · View notes
heavenbarnes · 5 months
Text
under no circumstances did your simon want anyone from work knowing you existed.
far as the 141 (or anyone vaguely military) were concerned, simon was single.
when johnny tried to play matchmaker, he just assumed simon was guarded. when gaz harped on about this girl from his gym, he just assumed she wasn’t his type.
the boys lived with illusions of simon returning to an empty, sterile, sad excuse for a home. hardly a home, probably a shoebox of an apartment with the bare basics of furniture.
maybe a rhythmic drip of a faucet to keep him company.
never even an inkling of an idea that he might be coming home to you.
you who kept the home clean, but lived in- warm and loved in. soft things at every corner, soft bed you both slept in, soft couch for him to hold you on. doesn’t smell sterile, smells nice, smells like-
well, you.
it wasn’t shame, embarrassment- if he could, he’d tell any poor sod who’d listen just how much he adored you.
simon thought himself the luckiest fucker alive for even knowing you, let alone loving you. he’d die a thousand lonely times if he did anything to lose you.
safety.
“this job doesn’t lend itself to lovers” price’s voice had rung loud in his head.
he knew his captain was right, he trusted his word more than he trusted his own mind. but his captain hadn’t met you yet.
he hadn’t seen that look you could give him, fluttering lashes and a hazy smile. he hadn’t felt the way you held him, when the days were long and his actions were unforgivable.
he didn’t know that you’d forgive every terrible thing simon had ever done, without a second thought.
you weren’t just a lover, you were the start and end of it all. his big bang.
nobody was ever supposed to know you existed.
simon had been so careful, so fucking careful- he’d suffered days and nights keeping your existence secret. it still wasn’t enough.
it wasn’t johnny’s fault, he didn’t blame johnny but that was one person who knew you in the greater context of “ghost.”
one too many.
“d’ya know L.T’s got a pretty thing at home?”
gaz had laughed, laying another card on the table as he did it.
“and who’d that be? her majesty the queen?”
price even snorted a chuckle out his nose, surveying the hand he was sure to play.
“wouldn’t give me a name, all he’d give me w’sweetheart”
“simon’s got a sweetheart named sweetheart? yeah, and i’ve got a chance at beating the captain”
sweetheart.
security measure two, when the first fails. no names, an alias that was easy to remember. no slip ups.
thankfully, everyone thought johnny had been chatting shit (as he often did) and didn’t care to push further.
but rumours only grow.
simon felt like he was living his life checking around corners. he was used to it at work, but when he was home he was meant to be free.
he couldn’t breathe knowing you could be compromised- that there was a chance he could lose you when he feels like he only just found you.
and when you were finally compromised? hell hath no fury.
there was only one option, they wouldn’t stop hunting you. they knew you were the only thing simon was scared to lose. to him, there was no other way.
price’s hands might’ve shook as he placed the folded flag in your hands, royal blue and silken. returning his mask to its rightful home, skull plate staring back at you.
where his eyes should be.
“if there is anything we can do”
all you could do was a blank stare right through him- show no emotion, show no fear. simon’s words were banging around your head.
that unmistakable feeling of eyes on your back as you retreated, carrying what was left of “ghost” back to your home. to your bed, military corners still tucked perfectly.
gently laying the flag to rest, running the mask through your fingers. what could a ghost really feel like?
bringing it to your lips, pressing a sweet kiss to its centre- where you usually might, before you’d send him off to fight for his country, always assuming he’d come home.
he’d been so careful, it wasn’t enough, everything had changed.
he had to change.
he let you pull the mask over his face, tracing the shape of the skull under a gentle finger tip. standing on your toes to press a kiss-
right between the eyes.
“something isn’t right, he kept this secret damn near the whole time we knew him- he dies and suddenly it all falls in our laps?”
gaz and johnny tailing price as he tore through the base, your file tucked under his arm. thin wee thing that it was, barely enough to piece together an idea.
might as well be chasing ghosts.
“simon sacrificed his life to keep that one safe, why the fuck would he let the details out? when he’s not alive to protect-“
the door was nearly off its hinges with the three men bursting through, putting the fear right through the wee thing at the desk.
“where are simon riley’s ashes?”
“oh, i’m sorry- they’ve already been claimed”
“who? by who?”
whilst the poor girl was gingerly sliding the record towards price, johnny was letting himself into the back room. a space that’d once contained simon’s urn, empty spare the twisted plastic full of fine grey dust.
“cap’n, you’re gonna’ want t’see this”
gaz was nearly vaulting the counter, snatching the ashes out of johnny’s trembling hand.
men with precision aim reduced to a murmur.
“who the fuck did we cremate?”
both men looking to their captain for- for what? help? a fucking clue as to what they’ve really got themselves into?
no use.
price was running a finger down the log book, settling on the name “simon ‘ghost’ riley.” signed out within the hour, only thing left being some poor fucker’s ashes and a set of initials.
signed out by S.H
S.H
sweetheart.
668 notes · View notes
Text
Never again
Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: When you feel like you are not worthy of being part of the avengers, you discover someone who thinks exactly the opposite.
a/n. So, this is my first fanfic :). I would really appreciate if you tell me if you liked and your opinions about it! I hope I don't dissapoint anyone! Any advice would be appreciated. And please, remember English is not my first language.
Word count: 1.5k
Fluff, shy Bucky.
As a new avenger everything was hard for you. Not because the rest of the team wasn’t nice or understanding with you, but because of all the pressure you had to go through. Everyone in the city was looking at you all the time, at the new girl, questioning every move you made. Why wouldn’t they? You are the novelty, something new to talk about after a calm period of time. You were there for six months and you were already stressed. 
“Hey Y/N, you okay? You seem off.” You heard Wanda asking as she looked at you with a frown. You had made friends; Sam and Wanda were immediately your favorite people in the team since the first time you arrived, always so welcoming and nice. But you never tell them how you really felt; you didn’t want to be a bother, they all had their own worries and you didn’t want to be another one to add to the list. “Yeah! I’m just tired, I couldn’t sleep last night.” You try to fake a smile hoping she would buy it and stop asking.
Every day at night you go on a walk by a little beach near the compound— your safe place, a moment of peace in which you let your feelings out, crying while nobody is watching or listening to you. At least, you don’t think anyone notices your daily routine, you think you’re being cautious. But that’s not the case, there’s one person who has been watching you since almost the first time— Bucky Barnes, the cold and sometimes rude super soldier. 
Bucky Barnes was stunned the first time you met him, but you thought he didn’t care about you. He looked at you when you introduced yourself, nodded and left the room. You almost cried. Why was he that rude? The truth was that he couldn’t stop thinking about you. When you met him you didn’t look scared of him nor you didn’t seem to hate him. You were like a ray of sunshine, smiling and being nice. He couldn’t allow himself to be near you, he didn’t deserve you. But he started to notice your nightly walks and he couldn’t allow you to go alone. What if something happened to you? No, no, that couldn’t happen. He wouldn’t let anything happen to you.
Bucky suffered each time he saw you cry, but he didn’t want to interfere, thinking you wouldn't want him near. So he tried to cheer you up from a safe distance. You received flowers (sunflowers, because they reminded him of you), your favorite candies and, even once, a book you wanted to read for a few weeks before he sent it to you. You didn’t know who was buying those things for you, you thought you had some fan like the other avengers had. 
“Hey! Sam! Look what I received today! Someone sent me some candles! They smell amazing!” Sam chuckled at your excitement looking discreetly at his super soldier best friend, who was sitting at the sofa, peeking at you from behind the book he was reading. “Y/N, that fan of yours must really like you a lot, doesn’t it look like that, Bucky?” Of course, he knew his friend, and he knew Bucky was head over heels for you. “Yeah, sure.” Bucky hid himself again behind the book, not before sending a death glare to his friend. You blush, realizing in that exact moment that he was there. You might have developed a tiny crush on him. Well, maybe not that tiny, but he was so handsome. And even though he barely talked to you, you loved when you saw him laughing and joking with Sam and Steve. It was a rare but beautiful sight.
It was night again, and the day had been really hard for you, you had made a mistake that caused the loss of some important files. The team was able to recover them, but still, you felt awful. It was like you only failed again and again. That night, you started walking by your comfort beach but you couldn’t see through all the tears falling down your eyes; it was too much. You sat in the sand and started crying; you couldn’t stop. 
You felt strong arms wrapping you. “I’m here.” You could recognise that voice anywhere. Bucky was there, with you, hugging you and telling you that he was there for you. You hugged him tight while crying more and more, while he caressed your hair. “It’s okay, everything is going to be okay.” 
When you calmed yourself, you didn’t want to move, you were too embarrassed to do something. Not only had someone seen you crying, but that someone was Bucky Barnes himself. “Y/N? Do you feel better now?” 
You nod and look at him, your face completely red. He chuckles when he sees how embarrassed you are. “Do you want to talk about it? I’m here for you if you need me.”
“I… I feel awful. What I did today… it could’ve ended really badly, Bucky. I’m only a burden; I don’t belong here. People are watching me fail everyday at something. I can’t anymore.” You try to not start crying again but you fail.
“Don’t say that That’s completely false, Y/N. You’re really important here. You don’t realize how helpful you are here.” He hugs you again and kisses your forehead while you keep crying. 
“Do you really believe that? I’m not that relevant; I’ve been here for six months.” You look at him again, still blushing.
“Don’t you realize how much we need you? It’s not only the fact that you are an amazing agent, it’s also because you always have a smile on your face, always smiling. You are always there when someone needs something, willing to help. You don’t want anyone to suffer, but you suffer alone. The team would not survive without you. I wouldn’t survive without you.” He whispered that last sentence and if it wasn’t for the fact that you were still hugging and you were so close to him, you would’ve missed it.”
“What?” You blushed again. “Bucky, what do you mean?” 
It’s his turn to blush, as he ignores your question. “You know, it’s not the first time I see you here… I just didn’t want to bother you. It seemed like you wanted to be alone and… yeah, today… I couldn’t just stare and do nothing.” 
“I appreciate it. I really do. I needed that hug.” You look straight in his eyes. “But can you answer my question, please?” You saw how he avoided your eyes and blushed more. You then realize that he hadn’t let you go off his arms, and you blush as you start to chuckle because you two look like idiots. 
“Are you really gonna make me answer that? Can we ignore it, please?” He knew he’d have to answer but he didn’t want to. 
“Yes, please.” You now looked at him with a serious expression and he realized that this was his chance, he was going to tell you how he feels about you.
“Okay, but please don’t interrupt me, I need to say this quickly” You nodded. “Y/N, I… since the fist time I saw you, you live rent free in my mind. You have the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. You truly are light; you bring sun to the darkest days. You remind me of a sunflower. When you started walking at night, I started too; I couldn’t let anything happen to you. When I saw you crying every night… my heart broke in a million pieces, I wanted to help you, be there for you everytime you needed me. But I didn’t know if you would’ve wanted me to be with you, I know that we are not that close, and I feel it’s my fault.” You didn’t know what to say; you stared at him in shock.
“Bucky, why? Why didn’t you tell me this sooner? Why didn’t you talk to me? Or tried to be my friend?” You were trapped in his eyes, so blue you thought you could drown in them.
“I don’t deserve you, Y/N. I… I have something to confess. The flowers, the candles… It was me.” He looked away from your eyes.
“Look at me, Bucky, please.” He looked at you, then at your lips. The tension was palpable. You looked at his lips and then up at his eyes. When you saw the way he’s looking at you, you felt at home, safe. You had never felt as loved as in that moment. So you did it. You kissed him and the world stopped. It was just both of you; nothing else mattered. You felt safe with him and you knew you’d never be alone again.
“Bucky? I don’t want to do this walks alone again.” He laughed and wrapped his arms around you again, kissing your forehead. 
“Never again, love, never again”.
488 notes · View notes
luveline · 8 months
Note
Jade my dear I just had an idea for prince Steve… what if he got hurt (fencing or something??? honestly idk) & reader freaks out even though their relationship is fairly new? Or idk how your soulmate au works but maybe she can feel it too? Or idk!! I’d just love to see what you could do with that, but no pressure either way 🫶🏼
ty for requesting!! fem!reader, 1.1k
“Holy fuck!” Steve says, yanking his leg back from the doctor’s cold hands, and hurting his knee worse than ever. “Fuck!” 
“Steven,” she says with an eye roll, used to his lack of carefulness by now. 
“What the fuck.” 
“It’s not that bad. You haven’t even torn anything. It’s a sprain at worst.” 
“I will never walk again.” 
“Fingers crossed,” Robin says, kicking her legs up onto the end of his medical bed. Her hat slips down into her eyes, her naked knees red from ten minutes in the grass trying to persuade Steve into standing again. 
“It hurt so bad. Are you sure I can’t have morphine?” he asks. 
The doctor tightens the bandages one last time around Steve’s knee. “Absolutely not. I’ll make you a peppermint tea for the inflammation. You’ll be better by tomorrow.” 
It throbs evilly. Steve doesn’t believe even for a moment that his knee will be better by tomorrow, he can’t walk without help. “I want to see another doctor,” he decides. 
“Sure,” the doctor says. “Tomorrow.” 
Steve sinks down into the pillows unhappily. What kind of royal life is this? Nobody ever takes him seriously, they couldn’t care less that he’s injured, and now he’s doomed to sit inside for who knows how long in the suffocating heat and the smothering presence of his attendants. Worst day ever. 
“Where’s Y/N?” he asks, because if he’s going to suffer, he’s going to be spoiled about it. “I want to see her.” 
“She’s in her political etiquette class,” Robin says from under the hat, unmoving. 
“That’s dumb. She doesn’t like politics or etiquette. Can we have her pulled out?” 
“Sure, Steve, we’ll disrupt her entire day because you slipped on dry grass.” 
Steve tries to catch the eye of one of the serfs lining the room and by the door, but they’re smart to his ways, and they look away. He doesn’t care. He’s a prince. “Hello? Can someone go and get her, please?” 
They all stand still but uncomfortable for a moment, and then one says, “She’s coming down the hall as we speak, your highness.” 
“Aw, yes,” he says, propping up on his elbows to look out the doorway. There you are, in a pretty, breezy dress you aren’t used to wearing and your hair in one of the new fashions, silver bracelets tinkling on your wrist as you speed walk to the door.
“Hello,” you say, breathless, still shy despite having married him and kissed him more times than he can count (seventeen).
“Sweetheart,” he says, “I’ve been grievously harmed.” 
“They told me, and I–” You rub your index fingernail between the thumb and index of the other hand. “I can feel it,” you say, an embarrassed and adorable smile on your lips as you waver in the door. “Are you okay?”
“You have to sit down and have some morphine too,” he says quickly. 
“You aren’t having any morphine,” Robin says. 
You weave around servants and the dressing table to stand by his bed. He’s pleased to realise you want to sit hip to hip with him, moving over despite his screaming knee, and putting his arm behind you as you hoist yourself onto the bed. “Hello,” he says, audibly charmed by you as he kisses your cheek. He rubs the kiss with the back of his finger. “Didn’t hurt you too much, did I?” 
“It feels like I’ve had a cramp,” you say. “But it’s not– I can’t imagine how it feels for you.”
“I’m sorry to hurt you,” he says.
“Ew,” Robin grumbles, covering her face with skinny hands. 
“Sorry, Robin.” You wipe your forehead. “I freaked out.”
“Don’t say sorry to her,” Steve says, putting his hand on your hip just to watch you fluster, “she’s bitter. Let me rub your knee.”
“What about your knee? What did you even do?”
“I fell. A little. A minor fall.” 
“Will you be alright?” 
“Honey, I’m in agony, and they won’t treat me, and you’re sitting with me, so I’m already fine.” 
Confusion in your gaze melds to sweetness. You’re practically heart-eyed leaning into his side, wrapping your arm around his stomach. You rarely initiate hugs from fear of being overbearing, and he can’t believe his luck. He’ll be eating grass more often. 
“I can feel that you aren’t fine. Are you going to be okay? Seriously, Steve, are you hurting?”
Your soul mark burns a light blue. He’s narrowed your colours down, he thinks, maybe, though they tend to change. Blue means love and affection. He’s a more classic guy —when he’s in love, his soul mark burns a gaussian pink just as it does now. 
“Oh, you can feel it?” he asks.
“Don’t start.” 
“We’re so connected,” he says quietly, teasingly, a flirtation for your ears alone. “It’s almost like we’re soulmates or something. Suns, I wish. I’d be a lucky guy, huh? Connected to a girl like you?” He draws a line from just below your ear to your chin. “I’d feel like a prince among men.” 
“Stop,” you whisper, in a tone that suggests you’d very much like him to continue. 
Nonetheless, he drops his hand in favour of kissing you instead, pressing his lips softly to your cheek. His leg throbs with angry pain and a headache brews between his eyes, but he’s not kidding about being fine. Everything feels better when you’re with him. You truly are the half to his whole, no matter how new your relationship might be. 
“How was your morning?” he asks. 
“Being a princess is awful.” 
“Yes, but it suits you.” 
You turn your face to his, close enough to kiss. It’s very tempting for Steve, but he lets you say what’s clearly on your mind. “I had a funny feeling about you this morning, like something bad was going to happen, and I wanted to be with you in case but they wouldn’t let me out of meditation. Do you think I was having a premonition?”
“Maybe. They wouldn’t let you out?” 
“Morine said I need to have better discipline if I’m going to be queen.” 
He laughs and wraps his arms around you completely for a full, loving hug. “You will be queen, no ifs about it, so you need to start acting like one and have more hissy fits to visit your pathetic husband.” He kisses your cheek three times in quick succession. 
Your soul mark intensifies slowly, until it burns a beautiful, coruscating blue that dances over the skin of your wrist as you hug him back. “You’re the opposite of pathetic.” 
“No, I was. Ask Robin.” 
“He was,” Robin says. 
“But I’m totally cooler now,” he promises. 
You let your face fall into the curve of his neck, tickling him with your smile. “You’re so cool, Steve.” 
“My lovely liar.” He kisses the top of your head. 
“As touching as this is, I have your tea ready now, young Steven,” the doctor says. 
Steve pretends he can’t hear her. 
655 notes · View notes
klausysworld · 9 months
Note
Hiii I was wondering if you could write a klaus oneshot where the reader is enemies with klaus but klaus finds out she has cancer and is all alone and begins to fall in love with her or something like that.
I totally understand if you don’t want to do or you’re uncomfortable with it.
Tumblr media
I’ve Got You
(This is on a very sensitive subject, please don’t read if it will upset you too much and know that if you are suffering or know someone who is, nobody is alone)
Cancer was something that had torn up Y/n’s life. It caused her to push people away all of the time. She didn’t want to be too close to anyone, not when the doctors couldn’t tell her how long she had left.
For a while they thought that the cancer had gone but she didn’t want to risk anything only for it to come back.
So she continued to be closed off, even from her own family.
Being Elena and Jeremy’s sister was hard enough, let alone growing up having cancer. Having two parents who were involved in medical care was both a dream and a nightmare. They made her live according to their timetable and their rules as to what would ‘help’. She knew, even as a child, that her family struggled much like any family would struggle to afford treatment and research and she hated herself for costing them so much.
She was kept separate from her siblings, built little to no bond with them. When her parents died, there was nobody to care for her or at least give her hope. She couldn’t afford hospital bills on her own, she had to seek out other family, like Uncle John and he did help however when he lost his life, she lost the chance of hers.
The people at the hospital knew Y/n well, they wanted to help best they could. She was supplied with medication in the form of pills to at least somewhat control the cancer and they had hope that she would be able to take part in a chemotherapy treatment program that would take place within the next year. That was as much hope as she could have to go on.
And she tried to hold onto that, she would imagine the day that they told her she would be able to live her life full without so much risk.
But at the same time, she didn’t really believe it would happen for her. Not anymore.
Sometimes she wished that a vampire would just kill her, out her out of her misery. Other times she wanted to survive everything her dreadful life threw at her and live a long healthy life to its fullest.
It was why she was so up and down with how she behaved. It was why the way she was around certain people changed so drastically, like Klaus.
Sometimes she wanted to see how many buttons she could push, she wanted to make him kill her so at least it wasn’t cancer that took her out. Other times, she just wish he’d disappear and leave both her and her family alone.
She would wonder if, had no vampires ever turned up to Mystic falls, if she would have been able to connect with her siblings some more, if Jenna would have given her some hope.
Those thoughts made her mad, but also sad. That’s when she would get snappy. Sometimes she didn’t mean to annoy him but she couldn’t help herself.
But unfortunately it made people dislike her which in some cases was a good thing because it meant people wouldn’t miss her if she did die but it also meant that she was even more alone.
Y/n was too young to deal with something so big, it was no surprise she didn’t know how to manage it. The problem was that nobody else knew how to either and so she was forced to try do it herself.
The medication she had been on since young caused an imbalance of hormones and had stunted her growth in areas. It made her hair thin and caused her to become feeble and delicate to an extent. Of course she tried her hardest to build up her strength but she wasn’t stupid, she knew it was much easier for her to become out of breath, to become exhausted or hurt. It was because of this that people like Damon would dismiss her and why she would be cast aside without any explanation. Not that she needed a reason, she already knew.
In some ways, she liked that Klaus didn’t know that she had cancer. He would be boisterous around her, tease and taunt her like he would anyone else. Because to him, she was like everyone else. She wasn’t a delicate little thing that needed to be avoided and fixed.
Sometimes he could go a little far, once he had her by the throat, cutting off her airways as he threatened her. He didn’t know that after he left she was spluttering blood all over the floor as she coughed and wheezed for air. She struggled for it anyway, she didn’t like someone taking it from her. But she never said anything to him, of course she was a little more cautious but she enjoyed pissing him off when she could.
When she was little, kids were cruel. If she wanted to play, they would give her funny looks and say they didn’t want to play with her. They acted like she was contagious, or an alien. She hated it.
So even if Klaus’s attention was ill intended, at least it was directed at her.
————————————————————————
Klaus originally saw her as another inconvenience. He met her when he was in Alarics body, when he went over to the Gilbert’s house to harass Jenna and frightened the others. Turns out their sister Y/n also hadn’t been clued in on who he really was. She had wondered down the stairs still in her pyjamas, smiling subtly at him and going to the cupboard to grab some biscuits. Once she had sat down and began munching, Stefan was storming in and telling her and Jenna to run. At that point Y/n just looked tired and begrudgingly got dragged out the house by a hysterical Jenna.
The next time was at a hospital after he had taken Elena from senior prank night. She was sat in the waiting room, lead across the seats as though she had been there hours. He came and sat beside her, spoke to her and told her to tell Damon to never threaten him again. She agreed without compulsion and kept her trap shut about anything else.
The following few times he saw her, she was less tired and more firey. That’s when he began to take a strange liking to her. She always had something to snap back at him no matter how dark the last thing he said was.
Somehow she seemed to know exactly how to make him tick. Knew how to tease him enough to make him want her to shut up but not enough to physically make her. Though occasionally she went too far and he would break.
Sometimes he felt a weird sensation of guilt swirling inside him, he never knew what to do about that. He didn’t enjoy that.
When she became tired, she was moody and would say things to purposely make him angry. And klaus’s anger management had never been great. He didn’t always mean to react to quick and harshly but he couldn’t help it. Especially when he didn’t understand why she was so angry sometimes.
He knew that she was very much seen as irrelevant when it came to her siblings and the Salvatore’s etc. He couldn’t understand why exactly, she was not less useful than Elena was as far as he could see. Still he didn’t ask or dig on it, it didn’t matter to him if she was apart of the little gang or not. She seemed to hang around him anyway.
He took an amount of joy in their playful banter and teasing nature when around each other. He also liked to push at her buttons the same way she did his. But he wasn’t as good at knowing how far he could go, often she would end up storming off and he’d be left feeling guilty and there’d frustrate which lead to annoyance and anger.
————————————————————————
Klaus hadn’t once guessed that the reason for her mood swings or her pushed to the side nature was due to cancer.
He hadn’t been expecting to see her name on labels of samples of blood.
He was in the hospital for blood obviously, even though he drank mostly straight from the vein, with all his hybrids and his busy schedule sometimes blood bag was easier.
He happened to come across the samples and spotted a familiar name. His curiosity peeked. Of course he originally guessed that it was just normal things like she had given blood or that she had low iron. But something within him told him to look further.
So he began to compel people to get him her files and information. But turns out he didn’t need to, as soon as he said her name the receptionist was yapping on.
“Oh the poor girl, in and out of here since she was just a toddler” she began, sighing and clicking for Y/n’s name on the computer.
“Really?” He questioned, his brows furrowed.
“Uhuh, next appointment is…oh! Tomorrow” she smiled and Klaus nodded pretending to know
“Right for..”
“Collection and a check up” she smiled and turned around to find something, a bag. She placed the paper back infront of him with contained the prescription pills that would control the cancer to some level. He smiled back at her though it didn’t reach his eyes and picked up the packet, reading what they were and what they did.
His heart dropped a little and he hesitantly handed them back to the receptionist. “Thank you, I’d take them to her but if she has a check up tomorrow anyway then I expect it’s easier if she get them herself” he muttered, his voice quiet as he felt a strange sadness forming somewhere inside him.
“Of course” the woman answered “Will you be with her tomorrow?” She asks with the tilt of her head.
“I might be” he replied, unsure and she nodded slightly back
“I’m sure she’d like it if you did, nobodies been with her for a scan for over a year now” she sighed and his heart ached.
He left shortly after and tried to find her. Eventually he found her, much to his surprise, at his house. She was sat on his sofa with a glass of wine and one of his hybrids, chatting about whatever. Without caring he made his way over and grabbed her by the arm.
“Klaus!” She yelped as he began to pull her away from the hybrid.
“He just wants to drain you love, come on upstairs” he murmured, pushing her up the stairs and grabbing the bottle of wine from the table.
“Well he might just be nice” she muttered
“Perhaps but I don’t like the odds” he replied as he pulled her into his room
“Right, because you care if he kills me” she grumbled and his stomach turned uncomfortably. No longer did the joking of her death amuse him like it once did.
When she noticed his silence and the look he had in his eyes, she knew that he knew. It was stupid look of pity that everyone had and that slightly uncomfortable stance because they don’t know how to act around her anymore.
She sighed and glanced to the floor and then him. “Can you not?” She whispered and he frowned confused
“Not what-“
“Oh don’t do that. I know you know. Its fine. I’ve had it forever you don’t have to be weird” she mumbled as she sat on his bed, laying back and staring up at the ceiling tiredly.
“I don’t know what-“
“Cancer Klaus. It’s not a scary word, it’s not Voldemort” she grumbled
“What-?” He questioned confused
“Doesn’t matter it’s not the point” she whispered and he frowned
“You never said anything about it” he muttered as he sat beside her.
“It’s not really the best conversation topic. Plus we’re not that close” she mumbled
“Well…you’re in my bed so I’ve done something right” he joked lightly and she smiled
“I guess so” she whispered.
Klaus laid down beside Y/n quietly. It was a little odd to be so close to her without either of them having ill intentions. He did feel bad though that he made her uncomfortable but he couldn’t help but act a little off. His mind had been replaying every time he had hurt her, he wondered how much it had endangered her life.
It confused him as to why he had this care for her. He couldn’t have cared less about week ago if she had been killed but knowing that she actually, most likely, would die much sooner than expected made him feel something. To know that she was living in pain and fear of when it would catch up to her.
Klaus was a man who liked control, he couldn’t imagine having something like cancer hanging over his life everyday acting as a threat ever time she breathed.
“So you-“
“I don’t wanna talk about it” she mumbled, cutting him off. He fell into silence and sighed softly.
Y/n stared at the ceiling, wishing it would fall on her in this moment. She hated that he knew. Of course she didn’t exactly hide it from him but she also didn’t want him to know. Not because it was something she was embarrassed of, or because she feared he would used it against her. Simply because it meant there was one more person who would look at her like she was incapable and weak. She didn’t want to be stared at like an animal at a zoo by anyone else.
She’d rather he be cruel to her and tell her how pathetic she was just for being a human. She’d rather he scare her and hurt her like he did everyone else in town than look at her like he was now.
She felt her eyes drain of the life that they usually held when around Klaus. With a lump forming in her throat and a heavy weight of disappointment on top of her, she pushed herself up and got off his bed.
“I’m gonna go home” she muttered, ignoring the way he sat up and looked after her with worry.
“Love-“ he called, standing up to follow her as she made her way down his stairs.
“I don’t want to talk, I want to go home” she huffed.
“Sweetheart-“
“Shut up Klaus” she snapped “stop calling me cute little names and looking at me like I’m a three-legged puppy! You don’t like me, I’m annoying and useless to you” she sighed, her voice becoming desperate and she hated how pathetic she sounded.
“You’re dying” he whispered
“Everyone’s dying” she mumbled “I’m just doing it faster” before leaving his house, closing the door behind her.
Klaus left her alone for a little while, and she avoided him also.
He did however go back to the hospital after she had her most recent scan. He compelled the surgeon to show he what was happening, where it was and what that meant. He wanted to know why she wasn’t getting more help, they told him there was very little chance of her surviving even with chemotherapy. Klaus argued they should still try and they informed him of the treatment trial coming up in two months time. Demands were made, he would pay for everything and they would tell her that she qualified to have it free. He didn’t really care what lie they told her just so long as she accepted it.
And she did, Klaus received a phone call telling him so.
Klaus still had no explanation for his sudden change of heart, why he wanted her to get better so badly. He didn’t know why, he just did.
He felt a little sad that she wouldn’t hang around him anymore. Not many people willingly spoke to him, even if it was just some teasing and playful banter. He missed it.
When she had her first dosage of chemo, he found himself in her hospital room. It upset him that nobody had come with her or shown any care at all.
Klaus quietly wondered through the hospital, it was halfway into the night and quiet as he searched for her room. His expression softened when he saw her curled up in a bed, the machine beside her beeping quietly. A singular rose was placed beside her bed as he pulled a chair over to her and leaned down to kiss her cheek softly. It was an odd gesture coming from the hybrid but he tried not to dwell on it as he sat beside her for a while.
Klaus came back during the night as her treatment continued, he would leave her a rose and often a note. He would never know how much it meant to her.
One night he ran his fingers through her hair, only for a handful of strands to come out with his hand. His eyes had enlarged as he quickly put it in the bin and gently lifted to her head to find a clump of hair on her pillow. He didn’t want her to find it in the morning and be upset and so removed it himself.
He didn’t mean to wake her up. She knew it was him without a doubt when she felt her face against someone’s chest. She could hear his soft muttering and the sound of his hand behind her head. It took her a minute to figure out what he was doing and when the realisation hit her she just stared at his chest exhausted. Y/n could remember when all her hair fell out the first time, when she was little and the other kids would poke fun while the parents would tell her how brave she was while staring at her with that helpless, pitiful face. She didn’t want to see it on Klaus’s face as well so she pretended to stay asleep.
After a moment he laid her back down and pulled the blanket back up. “There we go” he murmured softly as he smoothed it over “it’s all going to be just fine” he whispered, stroking her arm gently. She kept her eyes closed and her breathing steady until he left, she couldn’t stop the tears rolling after he was gone. She hated feeling sorry for herself all of the time but it seemed she could never catch a break.
It wasn’t long before she was back home, still on chemo but home. Jeremy was living in Denver and Elena basically lived at the Salvatores so Y/n had the house to herself. She didn’t go out much, she never really had. She only did recently to annoy Klaus but she didn’t want to be around him anymore either so she found that staying inside was better.
However Klaus had different ideas and so wound up on her doorstep, nocking incessantly until she answered.
“Finally love, you and me worried” he sighed and she narrowed her eyes
“What do you want?” She snapped, she was wrapped up in a blanket and wore a hat on her head. Klaud wasn’t sure if it was because she was cold or because she had given in and shaved her head.
“It’s lovely to see you too” he smiled sarcasticly and she glared. “I wanted to see how you were doing” he answered.
“I’m doing fine. How are you doing?” She replied stiffly
“Ah you know…family troubles” he mumbled and she hummed
“Elijah?” She question
“All of them” Klaus muttered “three brothers, a sister and a mother. I can only be glad I’ve already killed my father…though that didn’t stop mother”
Y/n let out a breathy laugh and glance down “I’ll grab my shoes and we’ll talk and walk.” She told him before closing the door. Klaus smiled to himself as he waited a second before she came out ready. She was completely wrapped up, hat gloves coat. Still he didn’t ask, just remained happy to be with her.
They spoke about the sudden arrival of his family and the ball. He said he hoped she would come but her silence wasn’t convincing.
“You don’t have to” he told her “I know you don’t like people and you barely like me enough” he smiled and she returned it weakly.
“I don’t really think it’s a good idea” she mumbled and he nodded, of course he was a little disappointed but he wasn’t exactly surprised either.
“Then perhaps you’ll have to give me a dance another time?” He offered and she shrugged playfully with a smile
“I might be able to come for just one dance, but I go home straight after?” She compromised and he grinned
“Perfect” he whispered and cupped her face. The smile soon vanished from his lips as he felt how hot her skin was to touch “you’re burning” he mumbled before unzipping her coat and pulling her hat off. Immediately she made a sound of upset and grabbed for the hat. His eyes softened as she stared at him with a mixture of emotions.
She wanted to die. That was it. She wanted the cancer to take her in that moment. Stupid Klaus. She wasn’t sure why having no hair made her feel so bad, she had a nice shaped head but her past experience with peoples reactions caused her to hate it.
“Put it back” she whimpered but he shook his head. His hands gently pulled her coat off and then her gloves.
“You have a fever, you’re boiling, I’m taking you home” he told her as he leant down and lifted her up. She looked at him like he was crazy, she didn’t understand what kind of bond they had or what feelings they held for eachother. She didn’t why he would like her of all people. Was it pity? She hoped not, she’d be so pissed off it was.
“Fevers are normal” she mumbled “you don’t gotta worry”
“Normal or not, it’s best we get rid of it so that it doesn’t hurt you” he answered as he carried her towards her house. She couldn’t help but smile a little when he said ‘we’. In a way it reminded her of how her parents would care her and tell her that it was something they would all get through.
He felt her relax a little in his hold and glanced down to see her looking up at him with a lost look in her eye as he approached her door.
“I can’t come in but I trust that you’ll know how to cool off? I can take you to my house otherwise” he told her as he placed her down and passed her things back to her as she got inside.
“I’ll be fine, thank you” she told him with a small smile before closing the door.
Later that day she received a package containing a dress, shoes that matched and a silver necklace with her birthstone hanging from it. She smiled a little and put it somewhere safe ready for the next evening.
Then she continued to settle her fever and take a nap. She woke back up, watched a few films, messaged Klaus to let him know she was okay now, and finally took her meds when she ate her dinner before going to sleep.
In the morning she continued her everyday routine and lounging around until it was only a couple hours before the ball that the mikaelsons were throwing. She had argued with herself all day whether she should go. She knew people would talk, seeing the cancer kid with Klaus Mikaelson. Not that it was date. No no. That would be weird…
Eventually she decided she would go, dance the first dance and then go home. She just hoped that the exhaustion wouldn’t hit her too hard while she was out or that she wouldn’t fall sick until she got back home.
Y/n never got to go to events like Elena and Jeremy did when she was little, but her mother would dress her up when she was in the house sometimes to make her feel happy and pretty for a day. That was the only way she knew what she was doing when it came to her face. She had stolen some from Elena’s room as she only had the basics for herself.
She put on everything he had given her and looked in the mirror. Her hands touched her head with a small sigh before she called a cab that took her to the mansion.
She stood outside it for a few minutes, unsure whether she should just turn around and walk in. Klaud didn’t give her that option when he came wondering outside, his eyes looking around for her hopefully. She smiled a little to herself and began to walk towards him, his gaze met hers halfway and he quickly flashed beside her.
“You came” he whispered, pulling her in for an unexpected hug. He pulled back and cleared his throat “sorry” he muttered awkwardly before grabbing her hand and leading her inside. “You look gorgeous by the way, you always look gorgeous but…not that- “
“Thank you” she cut him off with a smile and squeezed his hand in appreciation. “Am I late? I didn’t mean to stand there for so long” she asked quietly, glancing around and seeing the entire town moving around his home.
“It’s okay, the first dance only just started” he told her, leading her further inside.
“I never really learned to dance” she whispered nervously
“That’s alright” he murmured “I’ve got you” he told her and she believed him.
She let him guide her throughout the dance, she kept her eyes on him and tried to ignore any stares. Klaus kept her close and offered a death glare to anyone who even glanced their way. Time flew, they danced for nearly six full songs before he felt her body go momentarily limp to his. Thankfully his arm was around her waist already so he kept her up. She regained her balance in seconds but it was clear that something was wrong.
“I’m going to take you upstairs, alright love?” He murmured to her but she shook her head
“I can’t do the stairs…I’m dizzy” she whispered and he nodded
“I know, I didn’t expect you to walk up them” he told her before gently tugging her away from the people. They walked straight past Elijah and Elena talking, both turned to face them with looked of confusion and surprise as Klaus told her to let him help her. He kept upright so that nobody would know she was being carried as he supported her weight up each step. Once at the top they walked past Finn and Esther, his mother eyed the girl with that same pity as most and shook her head at Finn in a way that told him to leave them alone as Klaus lead her into his room carefully.
He laid her down on his bed, propping her up with pillows and cupping her face gently. Her eyes focused on his as his cool hands soothed her skin.
“You feel okay love?” He asked softly
“Yeah I’m ok” she nodded as her head began to settle. She felt a little nauseous but less faint. “I should go home” she mumbled, pushing herself up but he shook his head and laid her back down.
“Stay here tonight love, I’ll look after you” he told her
“Can’t, gotta have my meds” she muttered and he nodded
“I’ll go get them okay? You stay in here, find a shirt of mine to wear to bed and I’ll go get your pills.” He decided, standing up
“Klaus…you’re not invited in” she whispered and he sighed
“Then I’ll go to the hospital and get some, I know what you need”
“It’s easier if I go home” she argued
“I want you here” he told her seriously and with a sigh she nodded.He nodded in return and stroked her face, and her smooth head gently. “You can wear whatever you like okay?” He smiled and she nodded, watching as he left.
Klaus quickly made his way out the room, rushing down the stairs and out the house. Stopping for only a second to tell Elijah to keep people downstairs.
Once he was back from the hospital with her medication she was wrapped in his duvet, dressed in his shirt and her panties with no makeup left on her face while scrolling through Netflix on his TV. He smiled at the sight and close the door behind him with a click. Her head lifted to see him and he made his way over with the bottle in one hand and a glass of water in the other.
“Thank you Klaus” she whispered gratefully as she swallowed a pill before handing back the glass which he placed on a coaster on his bedside table.
He grabbed a shirt and some plaid pants before disappearing into his conjoined bathroom. He remerged from the room in a couple minutes ready for sleep. He had a sofa in his room, a mini fridge and everything. Y/n wandered if he ever actually had to leave his room.
Klaus opened a cabinet filled with blankets and pillows and pulled a couple out and setting up a bed on the couch making Y/n frown a little, guilt and confusion swirling.
“You done have to sleep there” she told him “You could sleep here if you want…or I could go on the sofa, I don’t mind” she offered, slipping out of the bed and making her way to the couch but he spun her straight back around and lead her back to bed.
“Under no circumstances will you not be in that bed” he told her, a level of authority in his tone as he put her to bed. “I don’t want to disturb your sleep by stealing half the bed” he teased.
“No it’s okay, I like sharing” she smiled and he raised a brow as he sat down infront of her.
“Oh? Do you share beds often?” He teased with narrowed eyes. Klaus didn’t like the thought of Y/n sleeping with anyone but himself. Even if it was just a nap.
“No” she whispered, her cheeks bushing pink “sometimes when I was sick my mom would sleep with me” she shrugged and he smiled.
“I doubt I’ll be anything like your mother sweetheart” he chuckled and she rolled her eyes
“Oh just come lay down, you know that’s not-“
“I know, I know” he murmured playfully as he laid beside her. She huffed out a breath dramatically and he grinned, pulling her against him. It was strange to be so close to him, teasing and laughing again. She liked it though, and so did he.
Klaus shifted himself under the duvet and pulled it around them. He hadn’t had a girl in his bed for a while, especially the past few months. All he could think of was her so why would he want some other woman? It had been even longer since he had a girl in his bed with no expectations of sex. That hadn’t happened in decades.
Something about it was nice, innocent.
Y/n on the other hand had never shared a bed with a man, never been touched or ever really thought that a guy would want to touch her. She didn’t think Klaus would either, especially not when she looked like she did. She’d lost a lot of weight from the chemo, her stamina was low, she bruised easy and she had no hair which threw most boys off. Boys her own age at least. Not Klaus.
He couldn’t have cared less about something so simplistic. Sure, she had pretty hair at one point but it didn’t define her. He liked her as she was, of course he wanted her to be cancer free and happy but he’d still love her while she wasn’t.
Love. Was it too strong of a word? He wasn’t sure.
Especially not when he was looking at her like he was now. Seeing her so openly vulnerable and curled up against him, sleepy eyes set on the tv and her body hidden under the quilt though he could feel her legs touching his.
It wasn’t long before they were snuggled up and half asleep. She was barely conscious when Elijah’s head popped into the room to check on Niklaus. The brothers had a brief conversation on how the night went, Elijah expressed his caution around their mother Klaus said he couldn’t be bothered with it anymore. Elijah left when Y/n began to stir and Klaus’s focus became her.
He slept with her throughout the night, he woke to find her missing and his heart sank. Thankfully she wondered back in from the bathroom a few minutes later and crawled back to bed with a yawn. Klaus’s lips upturned and he pulled her close again. She looked up at him with a small smile which grew when their eyes met.
“Hi” she whispered and he smiled
“Hi” he uttered back, pulling her as close to his side as he could before she was under him. She glanced to the time, seeing it was still really early. She groaned softly and closed her eyes. Klaus hummed softly and brushed the backs of his fingers across her cheek bones softly. “You look so pretty” he whispered.
Her cheeks tinted red and she rolled onto her side to hide her face from him but it only resulted in him spooning her. He kissed the back of her head making her go redder and her fingers to hold onto the sheets beneath. Klaus pressed close to her, too close. The second she felt something hard against her backside her body went tense and she panicked. Klaus felt her fear and quickly pulled himself away from her but she was already getting out of bed.
“I have to go, I’m sorry” she whispered, heading for the door but he sped infront of her.
“Love-“
“I gotta go”
“Let me drive you, and at least give you something to wear” he mumbled, disappointed with himself for scaring her. She nodded when she realised she was still in just her underwear and his shirt. He sped into Rebekah’s room which was unsurprisingly empty as she had ended up staying the night in Damon Salvatores bed.
He came back and she pulled the jeans on before he drove her home. It was quiet and he hated that he’d ruined the night. He should have thought about it and known she wouldn’t want that, he hadn’t intended to do anything other than sleep but she was so close and he couldn’t help but want. His desire always won though in this case it made him lose big time.
He apologised quietly when she got out the car and she told him it was okay and that she overreacted. Neither of them were particularly pleased with how they responded.
Y/n thought about how the moment could have played out a hundred times over and kicked herself for not just letting him have her. But she knew she would have regretted it.
They both decided to pretend the incident didn’t happen when they saw eachother next. Klaus had turned up on her doorstep that same night, it was clear he had been crying but she mention it. She wrapped her arms around him as he told her that his family had left again and that his mother wanted him dead. She ended up back in his bed, using his chest as a pillow once more.
In fact she ended up in his house, his bed a lot. Especially as her chemo treatment continued, when she wasn’t in hospital he managed to coax her to his house.
“I enjoy our sleepovers” he teased making her bite back a smile and glare playfully.
“Technically you don’t even need sleep” she reminded and he rolled his eyes.
“Well I like sleeping with you” he murmured with a wink and she laughed.
For a little while, things seemed to be getting better. She felt happier and somewhat healthier. She was more confident in herself when Klaus was around, he helped her see her beauty and her worth. For a moment she truly believed that everything would be better.
But things could never just be so simple.
At the end of her chemotherapeutic treatment, she went into the hospital as expected. Klaus didn’t go with her this time, Y/n had told him that the appointment wasn’t for another week because she wanted good news as a surprise.
How she wished it was good news.
She knew as soon as she saw the nurses face. When she told her that the treatment hadn’t worked the way they hoped, she just nodded and asked how much she owed. They shook their heads and reminded her that it was ‘free’ and she went home.
All this had done was just confirm that she wouldn’t live even half of what everyone else would. A quarter if she was lucky.
Vampire blood couldn’t save her, magic couldn’t save her. She just had to accept it and live with it for however long.
That wasn’t even the hard part for her, the hard part was telling Klaus.
After her appointment she went back to his home. He wasn’t in but she went up to his room anyway, besides it was basically her soon now too.
She stared at the bed, god she loved that bed. It was like a cloud and when she had Klaus holding her tight aswell? She only hoped heaven would be similar.
She tapped her fingers against her arm as she thought. With a sigh she went and had a shower, got back out and stared at herself in the full length mirror that Klaus had in his bathroom for whatever reason. She smiled and laughed through her nose at the thought.
Y/n had a lot of clothes at Klaus’s now, she pulled on one of the only actual sets of underwear she owned and sat down on the bed. She adjusted the straps on her bra for a few minutes and fiddled with her panties so they sat how she wanted them to.
Klaus was home shortly after and made his way upstairs to his room. His breath got caught in his throat the second he saw her.
They teased eachother and made little jokes about sex, they both entertained the idea in their heads but he never actually thought she would be the one to make the move.
He didn’t know what the final push was that made her give in but he wouldn’t push it away.
Within seconds he was on that bed, gently pushing her down onto her back and hovering over her. His lips met hers in a deep passion that heated them both. Her legs were nudged apart so he could lay between them. She kissed him back with as much love as should had in an effort to make him understand how much he meant to her.
His hands stroked up her sides gently, holding her waist perfectly. His mouth pressed to hers repeatedly before moving down to her neck. Y/n’s eyes kept shut as she felt the soft tingle of every touch, her hands slid down and unbuckled his belt. She pulled it through the loops with a tug and pushed it aside.
Klaus pulled back and looked down at her hands, he gently took them in his hands and lifted them to his lips, kissing the backs of them. “We don’t need to rush, we have all the time in the world” he whispered, the words made her eyes prick with tears but she held them back.
“I know…I just need you now” she told him quietly making him smile. He leant back down and kissed from her collarbone down. Y/n watched as goosebumps lined her skin and his hands slid her panties down her legs slowly so that she had the option to stop him.
He pressed soft kisses to her knees and then up along her thighs. His hands caressed her legs gently as he pressed an open mouthed kiss to her pussy. Y/n’s body jerked away from his mouth at the unfamiliar feeling and he smiled.
“It’s alright love, I’ve got you” he told her before running his tongue through her folds and up to her clit. Her legs went over his shoulder as her hands went to his hair, feeling the soft curls as her body filled with heat. Klaus rest his head against one of her thighs so he could look up at her as his tongue flicked gently at her little button. Her brows pulled together and a soft sound escaped her as she felt his teasing.
“Klaus” she whispered softly, a slightly tremble in her voice as his fingers made their way up and gently traced her pussy lips. He hummed quietly in response, letting the gentle vibrations tickle her nerves pleasantly. The words ‘I love you’ were on the tip of her tongue but she didn’t utter them, not yet. She worried that he would want to know why she chose now to tell him, why now to give herself to him. And if he did find out why, everything would be ruined.
A shaky breath left her and she put her focus back on him. She pulled at his soft hair gently, telling him to give her more and he eagerly obliged. He slipped a finger into her halfway, moving it slowly to help ease the foreign feeling upon her. His tongue still licked at her clit, though now with a little more pressure.
Her back arched a little and a breathy moan left her lips making him push his finger in so it was knuckle deep before pulling it out with a slight curve. He watched her tighten around nothing as her hips rolled a little to try get his touch back inside her.
“Do you like how it feels love?” He murmured with a kiss to her clit. She nodded and pulled at his curls gently.
“I do” she whispered “I love it” she confirmed and he smirked a little.
“I love it too” he smiled and sucked her clit into his mouth making her squirm and moan his name. She inhaled deeply and leant her head back against the pillows and two fingers began to stretch her open as they pushed in as far as they could’ve.
She took soft but long breaths as her body filled with heat and her hips ground her pussy against his fingers as they curled into her and found her spot. Her back curved off the bed and he smiled to himself, happy to bring her pleasure.
His fingers met the thrusts of her hips and his tongue lay flat against her clit, letting her rub against it as quick as she needed. A soft cry left her and her pussy squeezed his fingers tightly, her thighs squished his head making him chuckle and suck on her softly. He pulled away before she could come undone and pulled her down the bed so her legs were at his hips instead.
He leant down to kiss her lips making her wrinkle her nose and dodge him.
“Sweetheart, you can’t deny my kisses now” he murmured as she wriggled.
“You can’t kiss me after that” she whined and he laughed
“You taste lovely” he teased
“I’m good not knowing” she laughed and he narrowed his eyes before attacking her with kisses all over her face making her squeal and push at his chest playfully. Eventually he caught her lips and had her succumb to the kiss. A soft moan escaped her and he smiled.
“Can I keep going love?” He asked softly as he used one of his hands to undo his jeans. She nodded kissed his jaw softly, her eyes fluttering as she felt his bare legs against hers. Her body tensed for a moment as his cock rest against her thigh and her hand gripped his shoulder. “I’ll be slow” he whispered, “don’t worry Y/n”.
She nodded again and tightened her legs round his waist. Klaus cupped the back of her head with one hand while the other guided his tip into her weeping hole. She whimpered at the stretch and he kissed her cheek, holding her close.
She nuzzled close and clung to him as he pushed another two inches into her and gently rocked in and out of her, getting another inch into her with each thrust until eventually she took all of him. He stayed they for a while, stroking away the little tears that gathered in the corners of her eyes and kissing her lips softly.
“It’s okay love” he told her gently, “you know I’ve got you”
She nodded weakly and kept her face in the crook of his neck as he began to move again. Soft little moans slipped past her lips and vibrated against his throat as he thrust into her slowly. His hips moved perfectly to stroke all the right places inside her.
Y/n’s hands held onto him tightly, so did her pussy.
Klaus kissed her skin gently as he rocked into her, his hand slid down between their bodies and he began to stroke her swollen clit. She let out a little cry and he grunted as his cock was squeezed.
“You’re doing so good sweetheart” he murmured as he began to speed up. His eyes closed as he focused on pleasing her body, he could hear the repeated sound of his skin meeting hers along with the whimpers that tumbled past her mouth. He could feel her body growing tired and knew she wouldn’t be able to go on much more. He stroked her skin soothingly while his other hand rubbed quick circles on her pretty clit.
Her body tensed and she cried his name as her body let go around his. Klaus hugged her close as he thrust into her slowly, his hips came to a stop and she panted softly for air. He kissed her lips softly and pulled out. His hand stroked his cock quickly and he squeezed it tightly until he came onto her stomach. She moaned softly and tugged at him for a kiss.
His lips pressed to hers lovingly and rolled onto his back, pulling her ontop of him. Y/n smiled down at him and caressed his chest gently.
“I love you” she whispered and his heart warmed even more
“I love you too” he told her, wrapping his arms around her waist and sitting up. He stood up with her in his arms and carried her to the bathroom. He turned the shower on and brought them both under the warm water.
“I can stand” she mumbled and he hummed but didn’t put her down. Instead he kept ahold of her as he helped clean them both off. She leant against him, her head in his neck as he wrapped a towel big enough to be a double duvet. He kissed her head and dried them off before setting her back on his bed. He pulled one of his shirts over her head and pulled some panties up her legs. “Thank you” Y/n whispered with a smile.
“Of course” he smiled back and laid beside her in his sleep pants. Klaus held her to him, his lips pulled up in contentment and he closed his eyes. He held her close they slept and woke up early to prepare breakfast.
Klaus wanted this relationship to be right. He wanted to treat her like he knew he could and show that he meant his love for her. So he went downstairs and cooked up some pancakes and bacon for his girl. He plated it up and poured them both drinks, he set the table for them and made his way back upstairs.
His movements faltered for a moment as he heard the sound of gagging. Hurriedly he made his way to the bathroom to see her heaving over the toilet. Quickly he kneeled beside her and caressed her back, her hand reached for tissue as she wiped her mouth, dumping the tissue ontop of her sock and flushing the toilet. He helped her up and wrapped his arms around her waits from behind as she brushed her teeth. She apologised quietly but he shook his head and kissed her cheek.
“I got you something love” he told Y/n softly before leading her downstairs. She looked up at him with a soft look in her eyes as he pulled out her seat at the table. She sat down and smiled as he pushed her in and sat opposite her with his food also.
“You know you didn’t have to?” She whispered softly and Klaus hummed
“Of course I did” he answered “I’ll always look after you”
Y/n’s smile wavered a little but she pulled back together. They ate their food and she helped him clean up. After they got dressed and he started to talk. When Klaus starts talking he doesn’t tend to stop until he absolutely has to.
Usually Y/n didn’t mind his rants and rambles but this time it was about them. He started going on about all the things they could do together and how once her cancer was gone then they would go wherever she wanted and he went on and on. After a while however, Y/n just couldn’t help it.
Her eyes had been watering for a full twenty minutes and as soon as the first tear fell, well it was like a waterfall. Klaus’s face dropped within seconds and his heart sunk. Panic flooded him and he quickly pulled her into his lap. He tried to calm her but had no idea what was wrong to begin with. Well not at first.
She tried to leave, push him away like she knew she should have at the start. He wouldn’t let her though. Not now. He had to block the exit, ended up yelling for her to tell him what was wrong. Instead of an actual answer she told him that she didn’t want to be with him, she began to say hurtful things. She needed him to not love her. Not if there was no hope of living. She didn’t want to leave him missing her, she would rather he hated her and was glad she was gone. Or at least that’s how she thought in that moment.
Klaus was never good when it came to emotions. He didn’t understand the sudden change of heart, the hatred that suddenly blossomed. But he knew something was wrong, she didn’t look angry or disgusted by him like she tried to claim she was. She just looked scared and borderline devastated.
He stared at her for a while and she didn’t dare say anything else. Klaud didn’t want to believe it to begin with. But it was the only thing that made sense. With slight hesitation he stepped to her, he overpowered her shoving hands and forced her into a hug. It only took a moment for her to collapse into it, cries shaking through her without a break.
“I’m gonna take you everywhere” he mumbled softly, kissing her smooth head continuously. She made a sound of distress and she shushed her gently “anywhere you want sweetheart. It doesn’t matter how long we have, I will not have you live it alone and in self-pity” he argued and she shook.
He picked her up and sat down with her on the sofa, he grabbed a world map and brought it over to her. “Come on love, you choose somewhere and I’ll get us in a plane, have you ever flown?” He asked, swallowing any tears or sadness down. Right now he just needed to keep her with him. He would go anywhere, do anything to ensure that she was happy for however long she had to live.
“We can’t just-“
“Yes we can. We will. We don’t even have to pack, I’ll buy you everything new from wherever we go. Just pick a continent, we’ll do a country from each and see how you’re feeling before we go again” he whispered, desperation seeping into his tone.
“You’re making it worse for yourself” she uttered, wiping her tears.
“It’ll be a hundred times worse if I’m not with you” he argued, a tear dropping from his lashes.
They both went quiet and let the situation fully dawn on them for a little while. Finally Y/n glanced to the map. “I’ve always heard Europe was pretty” she mused quietly and Klaus wiped his eyes, pulling a smile onto his face as he pulled her close and kissed the side of her head.
“It’s beautiful. I’ll call for a private jet and we shall leave in a few hours. Would you like to tell your family that you’ll be away?” He asked but she shook her head no. “Then please, just trust me my love?”
“I do…and I’m sorry for-“
“Don’t be. Just know that I love you and that I will always have you no matter what” he told her, a kiss to her lips to seal the promise.
“I love you” she uttered, they repeated it back to one another as she made her way into his lap and rest her face in his neck.
Everything else was forgotten.
The doppelgänger, hybrids, Salvatore’s, Mikaelsons. They would all have to wait.
932 notes · View notes
sashi-ya · 19 days
Text
𝑲𝑨𝑰𝑱𝑼 𝑺𝑬𝑿 𝑺𝑷𝑶𝑹𝑬𝑺 𓇢𓆸 kaiju no 8 "sex pollen" hc ⟢ soshiro, kafka & reno
Tumblr media
tw: mdni. sex pollen: "funghi type" kaiju reproductive spores and how they affect the guys. explicit scenes of sexual nature. based on a mini fic I wrote -never posted, will someday- of soshiro and reader being affected by such spores.
Tumblr media
We often think of Kaiju as violent and dangerous creatures; some are big, other not so much, but all of them are -usually- taken as a threat for human kind. However, not every Kaiju known to mankind is exactly the type to be feared. Or maybe, actually, yes… “These are Fungi type” Okonogi says. “Ah- like the ones we killed back in Sagamihara, right?” Soshiro asks, absolutely unaware of the rare threat he was about to face. “Not really, fuku-taichou…” she murmurs, fixing her glasses, worried…
Tumblr media
𝐒𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎
He wore a mask but forgot that, even if every Kaiju had been already subjugated, his suit was still covered in those sexual spores. The fact that he kills by slicing them in various pieces, made him specially full of them.
Soshiro doesn’t really need a sex pollen to fuck you hard, that’s why the effects were -at first- difficult for him to control. “I don’t feel well…” he whispered to himself, feeling his body covered in sweat and the image of your body taking over every corner of his imagination. He felt like his palms were itchy, needy to squeeze your breasts, your ass, your thighs.
His tongue felt the pain of his sharpened fangs; he had to bite it while he came back to the base. Metallic taste of a little drop of blood filled his mouth the moment he saw you standing there, waiting for him, worried.
“Come here, I’m desperate to fuck you… please” he begged, whispering on your ear with his hands around your waist. Soshiro gave 0 fucks about the rest, nobody cared anyway.
Couldn’t wait much longer; he pushed you into a bathroom stall. Sat on the toilet, snatched you from your waist, pulled down your pants and lifted up your leg. A bite on your inner thigh, leaving a mark that will take some time to heal. His tongue on your sex. Up and down, sucking, slurping, tasting… devouring. Even if he is an oral sex god, this time felt like he was even better. Soshiro forgot to breathe, and from time to time you urged him to stop to get some oxygen.
Enough with the oral, Soshiro needed release; he couldn’t even stand up, his dick was freed for you to bounce -moved by his strong arms- up and down. The slap and the juices that dampened his pants and belly, felt for him like a true blessing. Those Kaiju wanted us to reproduce as well…
𝐊𝐀𝐅𝐊𝐀
My man here knew about the spores, however he felt asleep right before reading that the effects included a desire to “reproduce”. Probably due to his Kaiju nature the effects kicked a little later than the rest; he was still sitting in complete peace -actually fantasizing with him being the one saving the day- as he looked through the van’s window.
Sitting by his side, you were sleeping the way back… however, your dreams were suddenly interrupted by someone pulling on your arm.
“Mmhwhat?”. “I need… I- help-“ Kafka murmured, desperate. It seems to you he was having a “Kaiju emergency” and nobody, still, could know he was one. Quickly you eased the sleep away and began assessing him in silence to know what was happening. Yet, you noticed nothing.
Kafka opened his turquoise eyes as big as plates; and instead of explaining he snatched your hand and took it to his crotch. It was hard, harder than ever before. It felt almost like a rock, like a pulsating, throbbing, pleading and suffering rock.
“The spores… I am dying… I’m scared of transforming” he cried, almost inaudibly.
If he is transforming, it’s over. He is dying? Then let’s save his life… you took your jacket off and threw it, in complete silence, over his crotch. It was a blessing that you two sat at the very back of the van. Everybody, tired -and probably some affected by the spores- were completely unaware of the rest. And that, also, become an advantage for your intrepid hand as it slid inside the pants of your kaiju hybrid “friend”.
You knew exactly how to help him, ups and downs, playful taps and circles with your palm on top of his gland. Oh, poor Kafka, he fought back the urge to turn into a Kaiju and eat you alive… And you thought staining his pants with pure sticky whiteness was enough? Wait until you get to the base…
𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐎
The calmer of them all; mature, silent, hiding sweaty trembling hands. As one of the younger, he was able to conceal his growing appetite; at least until getting to the base. Reno became silent, trying to focus the mess on his head and the hardness inside his pants at bay. However, your beauty brought detrimental consequences to that state of pure meditation.
“Why are you running around in such revealing clothes?” he asked, looking and sounding almost mad. You stopped running; he didn’t seem to notice the towel hanging from your arm, but only the short shorts and gym bra you were wearing.
“I forgot my towel, I’m gonna shower” you explained, noticing the way he seemed to transform into something similar to a feral, hungry beast.
Reno pounced into you, pinning you against the wall of that empty hall that lead to a lively bathroom. “You were going to…” he whispered, with pale lips pressed against your neck. Reno inhaled your scent, he seemed to enjoy the perfume of your unwashed, sweaty skin. His fingers knew exactly where your core was, his teeth carved marks on your neck, his sex felt hard on your belly… that night, shower had to wait… because the more he sniffled on your flesh, the more he sucked in those kaiju spores.
211 notes · View notes
void-wolfie · 10 months
Text
It's Hard When I Hate Myself
summary: those bad thoughts in your head get a little too loud one day, and you can't take it anymore...
pairing: Jenna Ortega x gn!Reader
tw: self-harm, depression, suicide attempt (if any of these topics are triggering for you, please do not read)
words: 1.88k
a/n: i wrote this for @nofreakinglooseends, hope this lives up to your expectations bub...
*** if you have experience with depression or suicidal thoughts, or if you find any of the above topics triggering in any way - please do not read, these topics are written about in detail below (you have been warned) ***
Tumblr media
No one cares.
No one likes you.
You're just a burden.
You paced the bedroom floor, hands gripping the sides of your head as you wondered why your brain hated you so much. You knew the thoughts weren’t true, your friends really did care, they had told you so themselves. Yet, it all felt like one big lie.
In the midst of your pacing, something caught your eye. You looked up only to spot yourself in the bedroom mirror. For a moment, you were caught off guard; you didn’t look like yourself anymore. Dark circles under your eyes, hair that hadn’t been brushed in days, pale skin, and lifeless eyes. You looked like a shell of your former self, barely even recognizable.
When had it gotten this bad?
The floodgates opened. The thoughts came barreling back. Too loud to ignore this time.
Stupid.
Mistake.
Failure.
No one cares.
No one gives a shit.
Better off dead…
You started pacing again, a bit faster this time, praying that the voices would all just go away.
Your mind slipped to your girlfriend. She always seemed to know how to help. What would she say right now? Your mind was blank, you couldn’t think of anything. Then again, it was impossible to think at all with the voices shouting in your head, screaming about what a burden you were.
Jenna doesn’t even care. Why would she?
She only stays with you out of pity.
She doesn't care.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” you muttered to yourself, tears beginning to slip down your face, “Just shut up already!”
Call me if you need anything. That’s what Jenna told you earlier before leaving for work. You could sense the full-blown breakdown on the horizon, just minutes away. But you shouldn’t call her, right? She doesn’t need your problems right now. She already has enough to deal with at work as it is, she doesn’t need you making things worse…
She doesn’t love you.
She probably wouldn’t even pick up the phone if you called.
Lies. It was all lies. Jenna told you she loved you every morning and every night. She was there for you all the time. Of course, she cared… right?
“Fuck it,” you grabbed your phone from the nightstand, finding her contact and hitting the call button.
You sat on the edge of the bed, knee bouncing up and down anxiously as you listened to the dial tone.
Once… Twice… Voicemail.
“Fuckkkkkk,”
You redialed the number, hoping Jenna would pick up.
She doesn’t love you.
You don’t deserve her.
She can do better.
“Come on, go faster…” you muttered, your knee bouncing faster as you waited for someone to pick up.
Voicemail. Again.
“Fuck!”
You shot up from the bed; anger and panic flooding your mind. Not even realizing what you were doing, you threw your phone across the room. You didn’t particularly care. Your mind was on autopilot.
Tears rolled down your face and you could barely see through the blurry vision.
Maybe the voices were right. Maybe your mind didn't hate you, maybe it was just telling you the ugly truth… Your friends don't care about you. Your girlfriend doesn't love you. You’re just a worthless nobody.
Maybe it would just be better if you weren’t around anymore. Maybe it would be better if you were dead.
Dead. It was terrifying how much the thought of being dead didn’t bother you. The idea was almost welcoming. You wouldn’t have to suffer anymore, just peace… Peace sounded nice.
"Fuck!" You couldn't take it anymore. The voices were too loud, you couldn't think. Everything hurt. You needed to do something.
You rushed to the bathroom, the tears running down your face made it hard to see. You yanked open the cabinet drawer, digging around for where you hid it. Your fingers brushed against the cool metal, you raced to grab it without caring how it dug into your hand, nearly drawing blood.
You sunk down to the tile floor, rolling up the edge of your shorts to see the fresh cuts. Red lines spanning an inch or so long, each one scabbed over and bruised. You eyed an untouched spot between two red lines, before you could think you pushed the blade in, dragging it across the skin.
Blood trickled down the side of your thigh and onto the tile floor below, but you didn't care. Your mind was finally at ease.
It hurt like a bitch. But at the same time, the pain was comforting. Just for a while, it distracted your mind, easing your racing thoughts.
You looked down, eyeing the cut, the long trail of blood that cascaded down the side of your thigh.
Looking at it seemed to make it hurt worse. It made the voices come back. The cut was just a looming reminder of what a failure you were. But that’s all you were anymore. A mistake. A failure. A nobody.
You eyed the razor blade in your hand. Part of you knew you shouldn’t, it was a bad idea. But the voices were so much louder, so much more convincing. Your head was spinning…
Fuck it.
You dug the knife into your wrist, dragging the blade up towards your elbow. It had to be close to three or four inches long, the blood seeping out nearly instantly. It hurt worse than the ones on your thigh, but you didn’t care. If you were lucky, you wouldn’t be able to feel it soon anyway.
You did it again, taking the blade and dragging it up the other arm. Blood was dripping all over the floor, all over yourself, but you couldn't care less.
Her stomach twisted into knots; her hands shook as they gripped the wheel. She only left her phone for like ten minutes, maybe twelve at most, and in that time, she somehow had two back-to-back missed calls from you. She tried calling you back but to no avail. That’s when the panic set in. You rarely ever called her, and you never missed her calls.
She drove like a madman trying to get home. She was definitely breaking more than one law. Other people were honking, even flipping her off as she drove past, but she paid them no mind. The only thing she could think about was you.
Jenna fumbled to unlock the door; her hands were shaking. It took her longer than she would’ve liked to admit to get the key into the lock. Her mind was a wreck, her head was spinning, and all she could think about was you.
The second she was over the threshold she was calling out for you, praying for some sign that she was crazy and that you were fine.
Unfortunately, her prayers went unanswered.
She checked the living room first; it was closest to the front door. No luck, you weren’t there.
Then she checked the bedroom. She immediately noticed the dent in the wall; your phone lying on the floor underneath it, the screen completely shattered.
Just as quickly as she found your shattered phone, she noticed the light from the bathroom. The door was wide open.
Her stomach dropped; her heart was in her throat. She just knew something was wrong.
The first thing she saw was you sitting on the bathroom floor, unconscious. Then she noticed all the blood. It was everywhere. You were practically sitting in a pool of it.
The razor blade was still lightly clutched in your hand, the cuts going up your arms were an angry shade of red. Your shorts were hiked up, showcasing a sea of white scars and a slew of new cuts.
She wanted to puke.
She knew you were struggling, but she never knew it was this bad.
She took a deep breath, swallowing down the bile in the back of her throat and suppressing the tears that threatened to break free.
Everything hurt. Your head was pounding, and the dim lights felt too bright against your eyes. The bed underneath you felt stiff and uncomfortable. All your muscles ached.
Despite the way your muscles protested, you pushed yourself up on the bed, propping yourself up on your elbows.
The first thing you noticed was that you weren’t home, you were in a hospital room. A rather small one. There was the bed you laid in, a small bathroom off to the side of the room, and a TV hanging on the wall. But most importantly, sitting in an armchair underneath the window, was Jenna.
She was lying sideways on the chair, her head draped uncomfortably over one arm of the chair while her legs dangled off the other, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Even from a distance, you could see the dark bags under her eyes, like she hadn’t slept in days.
What was more worrying to you though, was how you got here. Why the hospital? Did you get hurt? Was Jenna hurt? What happened? The last thing you could remember was going to sleep the other night, with Jenna curled up in your arms under the covers.
You looked down, trying to look for any obvious injuries. You quickly spotted the big gauze bandages covering the length of your forearms.
“Hey,”
You jumped. Your head shot up and over towards the window. You must’ve accidentally woken her up somehow.
Jenna was sitting up in the chair, looking over at you tired and worriedly. She looked exhausted.
“Hey,” Your voice was hoarse. Your throat was dry and sore, and it hurt to speak.
“How’re you feeling?”
“What happened?” You asked, dodging her question. You felt like shit, but you weren’t going to tell her that.
“You don’t remember?” Her eyebrows furrowed, confusion taking over her features.
“No…”
You had an idea of what might’ve happened. But you were hoping it wasn’t true.
“What’s the last thing you remember?”
“You came home from work. We ordered takeout for dinner and watched a movie, then we went to bed.”
Her face dropped. A bad feeling washed over you.
“Babe, that was a week ago…” Her voice was soft and quiet. You couldn’t tell if she was sad or scared, maybe both… Most likely both.
“Oh.” You weren’t sure what to even say.
Silence filled the room. It was painfully loud, nearly suffocating you in the tiny room.
You didn’t want to ask the question sitting on the tip of your tongue. You didn’t really need to; you already knew the answer.
Before you knew it, tears started streaming down your cheeks. You’d actually done it. You couldn’t believe it. You tried to kill yourself… You were at a loss for words.
You felt the bed dip next to you, Jenna sliding onto the bed next to you. She gently wrapped her arm around you, bringing you closer to her. You rested your head on her shoulder, the tears streaming silently down your face.
Jenna didn’t say anything, she just held you close while you cried. Comforting you in the only way her tired mind could think of.
Neither of you knew what was going to happen next. But Jenna was sure of one thing; whatever it was, she was going to be there for you every step of the way.
476 notes · View notes
perkypeony · 4 months
Text
𝕊ℍ𝔸𝕋𝕋𝔼ℝ𝔼𝔻
Gojo Satoru x wife reader
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ᴀɴɢsᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ(ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ), ᴛʀᴀᴜᴍᴀ, ᴍᴇᴍᴏʀʏ ʟᴏss, ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ᴅɪsᴛʀᴇss, ᴘᴛsᴅ, sᴜᴋᴜɴᴀ
The moment Gojo Satoru was unsealed from the prison realm, the world felt gloomy. He was free, but the sight before him was anything but welcoming. His wife—the love of his life, his biggest supporter—lay on the ground, she was a ghost of the woman he missed so dearly.
Her body was bruised and battered, her clothes torn and bloodstained. Her eyes, once so full of life, were now vacant, staring blankly ahead. As he approached, his heart shattered at the sight of her broken form.
"My love, it's me," he whispered, his voice trembling. He reached out to touch her, but she flinched violently, a guttural scream escaping her lips. The sound tore through him like a blade, raw and agonizing.
Her eyes darted around wildly, unfocused and filled with terror. She let out choked sobs, clutching her head as if trying to block out some unseen horror.
"It's okay," he tried to soothe you, holding back his own tears from falling freely. "I'm here now. You're safe."
But she didn't hear him. She couldn't. Her mind was lost in the abyss of pain and fear. She looked at him then, her eyes catching his cerulean blue eyes for a fleeting moment. There was a flicker of something—recognition, perhaps—but it was gone as quickly as it came.
"Do you remember me?" he asked, desperation seeping into his voice. But she only shook her head, her expression one of sheer panic and confusion. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, a heart-wrenching wail echoed through the silence.
Satoru reached out again, trying to comfort her, but she struggled against him, her movements frantic and desperate. "No, no, please!" she screamed, her voice cracking with the intensity of her fear. Her hands pushed weakly against his chest, her nails digging into his skin as she tried to get away.
"It's me, Satoru," he repeated, his heart breaking with every sob that escaped her lips. "I would never hurt you."
But his words seemed to fall on deaf ears. She continued to struggle, her body writhing in his grasp as she fought to free herself from an imagined threat. It was only after several agonizing minutes that her strength began to wane. Exhaustion overtook her, and her struggles grew weaker, her cries becoming soft, pitiful whimpers.
Finally, she collapsed against him, her body shaking with silent sobs. Satoru held her tightly, his dam of tears finally broke. With painstaking gentleness, he lifted her into his arms. She was light, too light as if the essence of her had been drained away. "I'll take care of you," he vowed, his voice breaking. "I promise."
Satoru brought her to see Shoko and only right then he knew what happened to his wife. She was gone after Sukuna took over Megumi's body. Nobody witnessed Sukuna kidnap her but judging by her current state, it might be true. Whatever Sukuna had done to her, it had twisted her mind beyond recognition. Shoko advised Satoru to seek out professionals, as this is not her field. Shoko spoke of symptoms of PTSD and its treatments, but all Satoru could see was the shell of his beloved wife.
Days blurred into nights as he sat by her side, his heart aching with every sob, every flinch. He tried to comfort her, to remind her of who she was, but it was like reaching for a ghost. She would stare at him with eyes that saw nothing, lost in her own torment.
One particularly cold night, she awoke screaming, her body shaking with uncontrollable terror. Satoru held her, his own tears mingling with hers. He tried to hold back his tears, determined to be strong for her. However, he is the weakest when it comes to his wife, his heart can't bear seeing her suffering. "It's okay, it's just a nightmare," he whispered, though he knew her waking reality was far worse.
She pushed him away, crawling into a corner of the room, her eyes wide with fear. "Don't touch me!" she cried, her voice raw and broken. "Please, don't hurt me!"
The words cut deeper than any blade. "I would never hurt you," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "I love you."
But she couldn't hear him. Her mind was trapped in the horrors Sukuna had inflicted, and there was no reaching her. She looked at him, her eyes filled with such profound sorrow and fear that it took everything in him not to break down completely.
He took her hand gently, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. She flinched, but this time, she didn't pull away. "I'm not him," he said softly. "I'm Satoru. Your husband."
She looked at him, confusion tarnishing her features. "Satoru?" she repeated, the name foreign on her lips. "I... I don't remember."
His heart clenched painfully. "It's okay," he said, though it was anything but. "We'll get through this. Together."
But the days were long and the nights even longer. She was a ghost, haunted by memories too painful to recall and too traumatic to forget. Every step forward was met with a stumble back. Her laughter was a distant memory, her smiles a rarity.
One day, as the sun set, painting the sky in hues of red and gold, he took her to a secluded spot they once loved. She sat beside him, silent and trembling. "We used to come here all the time," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "You loved watching the sunset."
She turned to him, her eyes reflecting the fading light. For a moment, just a moment, he saw a glimpse of the woman he fell in love with. "It's beautiful," she whispered, her voice fragile.
"It is," he agreed, his heart breaking all over again. "Just like you."
But as the sun dipped below the horizon, the moment passed. She looked away, lost once more in the darkness of her mind. He reached out, taking her hand in his. "I love you," he said, hoping against hope that some part of her remembered.
Tears filled her eyes, and she looked at him with a sorrow so deep it felt like drowning. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I still don't remember who you are."
The words were a dagger to his heart. He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as if he could somehow piece her back together. "It's not your fault," he said, his voice breaking. "None of this is your fault."
Sukuna had hoped to break him, to shatter him as he had shattered her. But instead, Satoru found a fierce, burning resolve. He would not let this destroy them. He would fight for her, for the woman she was and the woman she could be again.
Every day was a battle, but he fought it willingly, with all his heart. Because no matter how broken she is, she's still his wife, his love, his everything. And he would spend every moment proving that love could heal, even the deepest wounds.
184 notes · View notes
btsydtrash · 11 days
Text
Ego [9]
mafia bts x stripper yn; hybrid universe
Everyone had heard of the Dirty7s, even distantly. Nobody could put names or faces to the members, but the name was enough to strike fear into the hearts of civilians, criminals, and law enforcement alike. They’re known to be methodical, impenetrable, and most of all, merciless. Nobody wants to cross any of them. Lest of all you - a college student stripping to pay her debts.
What happens when you fall into their web of deceit and lies?
What happens when you find that you don’t want to escape, even when you know you should?
Tumblr media
Masterlist  /  i don’t have a tag list  /  find me on twitter  /  word count: 1.8k
AN: Here we go again! crime syndicate BTS X stripper yn. I’ll post this on AO3 too. Some of BTS are humans, some are hybrids. They all are obsessed with Reader. Reader is black in my headcanon.
(yandere / angst / gore / fluff / smut / violence / none )
trigger warnings: hey.... I'm back! yn is depressed. she's suffering a lot but she's not alone. nothing of significance. just needed to get this out after so long. I'll be back soon with more drama!
“Breaking News: The body of an African-American Beta hybrid was found dismembered and abandoned under a bridge in East Point. East Point is known for its houseless and opiate-dependent population. Many new strains of synthetic drugs are being released onto the streets, made accessible to vulnerable, unmated Omegas. Markings found on the body indicate the involvement of a gang widely known as the Dirty7s. The Dirty7s are an anonymous group with links to…”
The TV drones on in the background but you don’t hear it. Well, you can’t hear it. You hadn’t been paying much attention to anything for the last few days. How many? You’ve got no idea. It’s been enough for your hair to start smelling bad anyway.
You walk out of the bathroom, dropping the towel as you go, grabbing the big t-shirt with Thandi’s face on it and pulling it on. You had gotten a couple from the funeral from Thandi’s mom. She had made them, gotten them pressed at a local tailor’s place to raise some money for the funeral. You knew how expensive it was to die. Flashes of your mothers face fly in front of your eyes before you can stop it and they make you wince. You tried to pay but Thandi’s mom had refused your money. “My Thandi told me all about you,” she had said, holding your hand so tightly it almost hurt, but you didn’t complain. In fact, the sting-burn sensation grounded you, and you felt yourself get lost in her deep, knowledgable eyes. She might have just lost her daughter, but it seems as if she had already experienced a lifetime’s worth of pain. It made you ache. “You… You were her friend. She loved you so much.”
And then you felt it again, the guilt-driven nausea.
It was the first time you met her mom, but you knew all about her daughter, Sana. The young girl, only eight years old, stood solitarily, as the preacher droned on and on about ‘eternal bliss’ and ‘blessed memories’ and ‘living on in memory’. The expression on her face, you knew it so well. It was as if nothing was making sense to her mind. She was so sad, so lost, so lonely. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of her throughout the funeral. She looked around at all of the people at her mother’s funeral, curious yet careful, quiet and withdrawn, before turning her eyes to the coffin at the front of the church and biting down on her bottom lip. She didn’t make a sound, not a peep - the whole time.
They opted for a closed casket because well… What other option was there? The truth of Thandi’s death wasn’t lost on the participants of her funeral but it was bad manners to bring it up. The thought alone was enough to bring bile to your throat so fast, it made your head spin. You rush to the bathroom and spit up in the toilet. Just a little bit this time, thankfully. You swill your mouth out and walk to grab something from the refrigerator. It took you days to realize that someone had come into your apartment while you had been at the funeral and had fixed certain things.
The fridge had been filled. The pile of dishes washed. The laundry had been taken and washed and returned all clean and folded. The bed had been spread. The rug had been moved around and vacuumed. The bathroom had been straightened out.
Once you had come to your senses, you burst into grateful tears.
You knew who it was.
He had left a t-shirt of his, saturated in his scent and so big it drowned your body in material, in your closet for you to sleep in.
You take a glance at the t-shirt again, wrapped around a big pillow on your bed, and you sigh, getting into bed once more, hair still damp at the roots of your head. 
Your phone lay on the table beside your bed, silent but charging, and you take a second to look at it before you grab it and make a call.
It doesn’t ring but for two times before you hear his voice on the other end of the line.
“Hello, YN,” Jungkook says, quietly.
You don’t answer. You can’t find your mouth, you can’t feel it well. Your tongue feels fuzzy and heavy, like a weight is sitting on it.
“YN…?”
Jungkook pauses slightly before the sound of him shifting his weight comes through the receiver.
He asks, softly, “Do you need me?”
You are still quiet, but you let out a light sigh through your nose. It’s the loudest you’ve been in days.
No. I don’t need anyone, you want to say. But again, more silence. Your tongue is too heavy. Your stomach is rolling and your head feels all loopy. You can't imagine where all these good hormones are coming from, flooding your system with flickers of light and ease and warmth and syrupy goodness.
“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” he murmurs, gently. “I’ll stay on the phone as long as you need.”
Another sigh.
He takes a moment to think before he says, a certain chipperness in his tone, “Shall I tell you about my day, Pretty?”
A final sigh, and you turn over to your side, phone pressed to your cheek. If you were more present in your body, it probably would hurt.
Jungkook sounds as if he reclines in his seat as he begins telling you all about his day.
“It’s been mostly boring. I woke up at 5:30. I went to the gym for a couple of hours. I boxed and ran and did some weights. I think I could press three of you, you know, Pretty? You're so little compared to me. Sorry. I got distracted. Then, I showered and ate breakfast with Tae. You haven’t met him yet, right? I think you’d like him. A lot. Anyway. After, I met Jimin for some work-related stuff. Very boring. Do you want me to tell you about it, Pretty?”
He doesn’t let you get a sigh out before he continues.
“I didn’t think so. Then, after hours of back and forth, I went to go pick up my suit. We have a fancy dinner to go to this weekend. It’s Jin-hyung’s birthday.”
His voice gets all syrupy and warm, and it twists and rolls in your stomach all hot and uncomfortable. Why does his happiness make you feel so bothered?
“-and after we finish at DeMaggio’s, Joonie-hyung says we’re going on a helicopter ride around the city. Would you like to do that one day? Should I invite you? I can do that, you know. I don’t think Hyung would mind.”
The thought alone makes you snort.
He pauses and then, when he talks again, his voice seems relieved.
“You laughed, Pretty.”
You blink, somewhat surprised. He wasn’t lying. You did laugh, breathy and weak as it was.
“Pretty, you know I miss you so much, right?”
You close your eyes tightly at his words, lip getting sucked between your teeth.
He takes a moment to ask, quietly, almost needy, “Do you miss me?”
Your throat gets all tight and thick, and you feel horrible all over again. He hears you choke on something, because his voice gets all flighty, worried and concerned over the phone, as he peppers you with soft words.
“You don’t have to say it.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“Please, don’t cry.”
“You’re breaking my heart.”
And then, he pauses and says the one thing you both craved and dreaded to hear.
“She wouldn’t want you to be this angry with yourself,” he says. Then, with more confidence, he claims, “You’re allowed to be happy.”
You cut off the phone before the sobs take over once more.
////
Jungkook taps the edge of his phone on the table a few times before he curses to himself. The wolf glances up from his spot in the corner of Yoongi’s office and asks, “You think I pushed her too much?”
 Yoongi looks over the top of his book and remarks, “It isn’t the end of the world, Kookie. Relax. You did a good job with the cleaner. She probably is sleeping next to the t-shirt you gave her and she called you, of all people she could’ve called.”
Jungkook bites his bottom lip and admits, “I’m getting frustrated.”
Yoongi pushes, lightly, “With?”
He puts the book to the side, knowing full well that he wasn’t getting any more ‘him-time’ while the wolf was occupying his personal office in their home. He loved each of his brothers dearly, however… Fuck, he needed his own place sometimes.
“Being patient,” the wolf explains, glibly. “It’s all so fucking boring.”
“Then occupy yourself with things that matter,” Yoongi suggests, moving to his feet. “I think Tae might be done with the guy downstairs, if you want a turn to pummel something moving?”
“The fucker’s still alive? Tae’s losing his touch,” Jungkook remarks, amusedly. He wasn’t lying. Usually, Tae would have had him chopped into tiny pieces and thrown into a river or incinerated. Jungkook wonders why he’s taking his time.
Yoongi snorts, pushing his glasses into his hair. He only needs them when his eyes start to get dry, like now. He usually didn’t use his other form, preferring to be in his natural hybrid state when in the comfort of their own home, but he’s been testing his personal limits recently, worried that he might freak YN out with his skin, his eyes, his tongue… She was prey, at the end of the day. He probably should have the lights off but he doesn’t want to ruin the mood. “Not even. Jin won’t let him die. He keeps zapping him with the AFIB machine. I heard he shitted himself.”
“Well, he shouldn’t have been fucking around, pretending to be something he’s not,” Jungkook replies, an annoyed look passing over his face. The younger of the two moves to his feet and he asks, “Say, hyung.” His tone of voice catches Yoongi’s attention, so he sits up a little more in his comfy office chair, eye brow quirking so as to prompt the wolf to continue speaking. “Do you think YN will actually come to understand us?”
Yoongi pauses to mull over his answer for a few seconds before he answers, honestly, "I don’t think she has a choice.”
Jungkook acknowledges his answer with a melancholy look on his face.
Then, he glances down at his Rolex and makes a small noise of glee. “I’ve got a spare hour. I think Tae might be a little fatigued.”
Yoongi snorts before reaching back for the book. His eyes are getting awfully dry. Suddenly, the lights flick off and Jungkook glances back from his spot at the door, a narrow line of yellowed light slightly warming the room.
“Hyung, you know I always know, right?”
Yoongi scoffs. “Get the fuck out of here, pup.”
Jungkook closes the door and Yoongi finally switches back to his natural form, eyes narrowing into slits and he reaches for his book once more, settling comfortably into his chair.
It just started getting good, too.
- end - 
Schemer (1), Abstentious (2), Thievery (3), Melancholy (4), Writhing (5), Lusting (6), Non-negotiable (7), Cutting the cord (8), Nevertheless (9)
109 notes · View notes
amymbona · 2 months
Text
What if... Tashi wasn't the only one who suffered from an injury. What if you, a random girl from Stanford, that somehow became close with all three of the messy lovers, went on to have a successful career, that ended within a moment, just like Tashi's.
You became close to Art and Tashi during your Stanford years, having proven yourself as a sweet and yet equally as talent tennis player. Art had a bit of a crush on you, finding it slightly conflicting, especially since the main point of his interest used to be Tashi. The two have introduced you to Patrick as well, as he basically came like an inseparable part of the 2 + 1 pack. Eventually, it was you plus them, them plus you, and you became their little thing.
After Tashi's injury, her and Art's break-up with Patrick and all the events at the end of the school year, you found yourself in the middle of the mess. You couldn't really bear it, the intensity of Tashi's desire fueled by the need to be as close to tennis as possible, Art's indecisive and idiotic persona, and Patrick's bleeding, solving-everythin-by-sex attitude.
You lived with Patrick for a few months, the two of you fucking every so often, but the moment he began slacking off and turning to alcohol and nicotine for comfort, it was enough. Even after Patrick's heartbreaking promises and Art's unsuccessful attempt to reach out, you completely distanced yourself from the three. Then, it was just you.
Unfortunately, you couldn't escape the three fully. Patrick would bombard your phone with long messages and voice mails, sometimes accompanied by low quality videos of him jerking off and saying how much he missed you. He'd show up at your place a few times as well, and you had to physically kick him out. Art and Tashi were equally as difficult to avoid, as they were now the player-coach duo, attending the same matches as you. Luckily, they never spoke to you.
All in all, you were living your life. Yes, with an aching hole in your heart, but tennis was big enough to fill it. Until it leaves a hole even bigger.
"She's trying to get her to twist her own feet. Look, that ankle's gonna roll, I can see it." Tashi mutters anxiously, slipping her own hand into her husband's. The two have been watching your match against some australian player from the bleachers, not liking where it's been going at all.
"Right," Art agreed with a gentle squeeze of Tashi's hand. It really doesn't look good. You're constantly jumping from left to right, and the playstyle characteristic to yourself makes you swing on your right foot while you just move your left one over it from wide to side. They've seen you pull this move at Stanford a million of times, with you insisting it saves breath from moving too far, but they've also heard you whimper when you couldn't walk properly. "We told her to stop doing that ages ago."
And then it happens. A fraction of moment, when something snaps, the top of your foot kissing the pavement, and then you're on the floor, clutching your leg in pain.
Tashi is, surprisingly, is the first person by your side, pushing everyone away and just holding you in her arms. You sob and sob and sob, the weight of it all falling onto you, and the Donaldsons accompany you to the hospital. They stay with your for days and then take you home - to their home - because they know you can't be left alone.
And they call Patrick too, something they have sworn to never do, but eventually Art is the one to break the no contact rule and calls his former best friend. The guy is in their residence within hours, not caring at all that he had to fly from the very other side of the state.
It's almost comical, absurd and ironic even, how your sudden injury cause the three to reconcile. All the fights are long forgotten, and nobody even gets the chance to throw a jab at one another, not when they see you finally asleep in Tashi and Art's bed, clad in one of her silk pyjama sets, your poor, swollen ankle wrapped in a tight layer of white, heavy plaster cast. At that moment, all three of them hold hands and comfort one another because they know that you need them right now, that they have to be strong and mature for you.
You don't speak, you don't eat, and Art has to physically carry you to the bathroom so you can at least take a piss and wash your teeth. After Tashi successfully manages to push a few spoons of mashed potatoes past your lips, Patrick sits next to you for hours, just silently stroking your back and telling you that you're beautiful every so often.
Suddenly, you have everything you have hoped for, everything you missed and mourned, but at what cost? You've lost what was most important to you - your tennis career, even more successful than Tashi's, full of more accomplishments than all the three players combinwd - and what do you have now? Nothing, or everything?
109 notes · View notes
senawashere · 5 months
Text
We're on this together. (Chapter I)
Bradley Bradshaw × Fem!Wife!Reader
Summary: Nobody warned you for how hard it is to become a mother,same for Bradley.
TW: infertility,mentions of miscarrige,mentions of hospital,mentions of getting pregnant,mentiones of ivf. Mostly angst.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tears were streaming down your face,your hands were trembling. Searching for Bradley's number in your contact list has never been this difficult.
Your fingers slid across parts of the screen you didn't want to touch, making your frustration even worse.
The phone line rang at a deafening volume. Once, twice, three times until it goes to voicemail.
His stupid voicemail.
"Hi,its me Bradley. Please drop your message!"
Taking this as a sign, you chose not to try again.
After all, talking to Bradley about it right now would only make him worry for nothing, considering he was busy on deployment and miles away from you. He was about to return this week.
It wasn't something he could solve. Maybe it was but not right now.
Within a few minutes your phone rang. As his name popped up on the screen, a heart emoji next to it and his photo of him grinning stupidly, you felt terrible for doing this to him.
Not only did you let down your own dreams, you were about to let down his too.
You replied, remaining silent. You expected your voice to sound like a lump in your throat.
"Baby, are you there? I couldn't get to the phone in time at first."
You were motionless, your lack of words showed him that. "I'm fine", giving yourself some time, you suddenly started to feel everything you didn't feel until you got home.
"I was at the doctor's today."
"Why are you talking like it's the end of the world? Are you okay?"
Throughout his breathing, it was easy to imagine him even stopping whatever he was doing to pay better attention to you; Not because it wasn't there before. You should have called Penny or someone, they would know how to take care of you.
"Wait, is it about babies? Tell me you're joking," he finished with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. You could imagine and hear it perfectly.
In the past, when you received good news, you would pretend that something bad was coming, now it's just another thing you regret doing.
You were selfish for talking to him, he was so far away; You could talk to him about it when he got home.
Talking and doing this and that now would cause him more anxiety than he ever had in his hectic daily tour life. Still, he was the only one you needed.
"No, quite the opposite."
The call suffered a long pause, filled with his deep sighs and persistent tears streaming down his cheeks.
You didn't let a single tear fall until you got home, but did you verbalize it? Putting it into words made things different; it felt more real.
"Fuck," he mumbled, clearly a little out of place.
“I can't have kids, Bradley,” your words were interrupted by the growl you were trying to hold back.
He could tell when you were talking to him that everything hit you at once. Over the years, he was able to recognize even small details.
''I'm the reason we tried and it never worked. I cursed it."
"No, baby," he took a deep breath. "Please don't blame yourself. You know it's not your fault." You ran your fingers desperately through your hair; This is what it must be like to feel useless on the phone. Just what you imagined before you made the call. It was bad to announce this to him. "Are you alone? I can ask someone to check on you. They’ll do that, okay?
“Please,” You didn't want to spend the rest of the day by yourself. Also, even though you didn't want to talk to anyone but Bradley, you knew Penny would understand you better, she knew how to make you feel less bad, it would be nice to be around her. And once she mentioned she went through something like that so maybe she would understand you.
Being alone with your harsh thoughts will not be a good option anyway. "I thought about calling her, but I finally gave up, I didn't know what to do, I still don't. Calling you still doesn't seem like a good idea, but I didn't know what to do."
Your weak voice was killing Bradley. If it made him sad to hear that, he couldn't imagine what it was like for you.
"You did great, baby, this is a tough situation but we're on this journey together. You can ask for anything baby, remember?" He smiled, a muffled smile came over the line; It made you feel a little better.
"We can still have children, you know that."
You wanted to tell him that what works for others may not work for you, that your condition may not be that malleable because your condition is genetic. Still, you didn't know if they were true or not, all your thoughts might just be the result of your momentary frustration, but they might also be true.
You need to talk to Bradley about this, everything that's going on in his mind. You didn't want to do this over the phone anymore.
“We can try,” you sniffled, still avoiding the tears you didn't even know were falling. "We can try." You repeated, trying to convince yourself.
"Talk to me, baby. Try to distract yourself a bit, huh? Please. Do you want me to turn the call off? Maybe you can take a long bath with your favorite bubbles or eat something different. That might help."
Even though it sounded wrong, his desperation to help you was adorable. Talking to him made everything perfect, his voice was soothing, you could hear him talking for hours. Now it was no different.
“I just want to hear your voice,” you said, lying on the cold floor of the main room. It would be nice to sleep. It seemed reasonable to forget the previous hours for a few minutes. "You are busy?"
"Not exactly."
"Then tell me how the mission went."
His voice sounded flatter and softer, you could imagine how uneasy he was even from the phone, it was possible to imagine him striding around the room with the phone in his hand. He talked about the mission details the night before. The contrast of how you described your previous day with what happened at the right moment was painful, happy and suddenly you were breaking it.
Everyone knew that Bradley dreamed of having kids, that kids were running around the house and so were you, you wanted to have kids with him even more but with you he would never have one.
"Can I say something?" You asked, taking a deep breath,cutting through his words. "I love you,I love you so much."
Everything was unfair, you both tried so hard. He, too, had become weak from trying, just like you.
"I love you too, baby. This," you could see him in your mind, pausing and gesturing with his hands, "this won't change anything,okay? I still love you so much as the day i fell in love with you."
"We are on this journey together."
"We are on this journey together.”
—-----
Your body trembled.
A cold hand was wandering around your waist as you slowly opened your eyes, feeling a ridiculous headache fill your vision. Your eyes found Bradley crouched on the ground in front of you, and he looked good compared to you. His eye bags were not purple from the 4 hour sleep he was getting,or his hair wasn't messy after the cold,rainy and windy weather out there.
"What are you doing here?" You frowned. Bradley chuckled as you laid your head down once the headache made you feel like you were going to throw up. He could answer your question but you were flattered, he wouldn't think you noticed he was there because he knew you needed him.
So he ignored it, helping you get up.
"Come on, get up. It's cold on the floor, I'll put you to bed." He tried to get you to stand up for him - he failed; but you shifted your weight onto his body, wrapping your arms around his neck, which he found worriedly cute.
“I need you,” you whispered, drunk and sleepy, burying your face in his coat. Let its scent warm you. He smelled amazing.
It was a relief to hear him say that. He didn't want to get into an argument about how it would affect his job in the near future, as you had fought before for the same reason. "I know my baby." He kissed your hair, hugged your waist, and carried you to your room. “She wants to lay down with me.”
He laid you down on the bed, doing the same as he lay on your side, face up and facing the white ceiling.
They both knew it was necessary to speak, but neither knew who should speak first or what they should speak about.
You ran your fingers over his stomach, placing your palm under his shirt, warming his cold hand with your body. You moved closer to his body, nestling into his side as he wrapped his arm around you.
"Tell me, what's on your mind?" He said without looking directly at you.
"There's a lot", your mere words made his throat dry. “It's weird knowing your body can't do what it's supposed to do, especially when you want it to,” you gasped through sobs, his grip pulling you closer to his chest for comfort. "I'm afraid you'll stay with me and a few years from now you'll realize you made the wrong choice." These words hurt him. It hurt him so much to see you blaming yourself.
He hugged you even tighter and asked you to look at him. "I'm not going to leave you, okay? I'm in love with you. That won't change, and it's not your fault. We can try IVF as if it will work, and it's worked for a few people, and we'll have a happy and healthy baby. We have the money for it. If the money I make as a pilot isn't enough, i can even find a part-time job. I can enter just for you, I'm married to you and I love you so much, why should I leave you?"
There were tears in your eyes and you hoped he was right. "What if it doesn't work? If my body miscarries? If we try and never succeed? I don't know if I'm ready to try again-"
Before you finished your sentence, he grabbed your cheek and gave you a messy kiss. He was far from okay, he was desperate, you didn't know how to decipher whether he was trying to silence you or show his emotions. The salty taste of your tears accompanied by the burning in his throat didn't help at all.
You put your hand on his chest and stop him. He was in distress, he probably wanted to stop you with a waterfall of negative thoughts but he didn't know how.
“I don't want to try, I just don't know what to do yet, and it's killing me right now.” You were complaining.
He kissed your forehead and let you lie down.
"We will find a way. It's still new, we can think better or find other ways. Adoption is also a good option, but of course if everything happens at the right time."
You stayed silent for a while, imagining a parallel where Bradley was right and things worked out. Although you were still not convinced by this, you agreed with him. After all, there would be no other way, and you still wanted to have children.
“Adoption sounds good,” you mumbled against his chest. You hadn't thought about it yet, it hadn't even crossed your mind. “There is no risk and there is no way we can go wrong.”
You felt relieved that he was there for you, guiding you to feel better about this.
"You see?" he asked with what looked like a weak smile. "We'll find a way because I don't plan on having kids with anyone but you, so it has to be with you. Whether you like it or not." He joked, drawing a smile from you as he touched your nose with a wet kiss.
It was incredible how he managed to make even the most difficult moments seem lighter.
"Good, because I still want to have your stupid kids.”
Tumblr media
I'm tagging people who might be interested:@ohtobeleah @sebsxphia @callsigns-haze @sorchathered @greenorangevioletgrass @teacupsandtopgun @roosterforme @floydsglasses @lyn-js @bradshawssugarbaby @torchflies @its-dee-lovely @its-the-pilot @friedchips94 @bradshawsbaby @hardballoonlove @perfectprettypisces @topguncortez @hangmanapologist @bradshawsbaddie @shanimallina87 @djs8891 @themusingofagothicsoul @promisingyounglady @the-romanian-is-bae @mamachasesmayhem @jessicab1991 @iefitzgerald-blog @charcole-grey @waterriseslew @desert-fern @promisingyounglady @lewmagoo and if you are not comfortable please tell me!!
REBLOGS,LIKES AND COMMENTS ARE HIGLY APPERICATED🤍🤍🤍
314 notes · View notes
cutielando · 10 months
Text
let me help you | r.c.
synopsis: in which you're the only one willing to help him
my masterlist
Tumblr media
You knew Rafe had a problem with drugs. Everyone knew he had a problem except for Rafe himself.
Or maybe he knew and just didn't want to do anything about it. One of the 2.
All that you knew was that you couldn't deal watching him destroy his health anymore. He needed help, and you were going to make sure he was going to get it.
"Babe?" you called out as you entered the Cameron mansion.
Everything was silent and there was nobody around the downstairs area.
"Rafe!" you called out again, slowly going up the stairs.
Once you arrived upstairs, you saw Rafe coming out of his father's office clutching a watch in his hand.
"Y/N? What are you doing here?" he asked, sniffling and trying to hide the watch from you.
"We had plans, but you weren't answering your phone" you trailed off, your heart breaking when you took in his figure. "Babe, what's going on?"
"Nothing, everything's fine" he came closer to you and took your face in his hands, planting a quick peck on your lips and a longer kiss on your forehead.
"I know when you're lying, Rafe. Please don't shut me out" you whispered, closing your eyes.
You couldn't bear to look at him.
"You're going to be mad at me" he mumbled, looking anywhere but your eyes now.
"I'm not. Just please tell me what's going on. I hate seeing you like this" you reached up and ran your hands through his hair, knowing it would calm him down.
"I owe Barry some money"
The words were so soft but held so much. You closed your eyes, knowing that whenever he mentioned Barry, it was dangerous.
"Rafe, we talked about this. You said you were going to stop" you whispered, trying to keep your voice calm.
You knew you weren't going to fix anything by yelling at him, he was never good with screaming.
"I know, and I did. Baby, I swear to you, I did. Sarah and her little Pogue boyfriend stole 25K from his house the other day and he told me that I had to pay for it or he would hurt you. Baby, I've been clean for 6 months, I swear to you. You have to believe me, baby. I swear to God" tears were now streaming down his cheeks, his hands shaking and sobs racking through his body.
You pulled him into a big hug, holding him as he struggled to calm down.
"Shh, it's okay, you're okay, baby. Everything's going to be okay, I'm here" you whispered in his ear while running your hands down his back.
He nodded against your shoulder, burying his head further into the crook of your neck.
You held him close for a couple of minutes before his sobs turned into sniffles and his tears stopped falling.
"I don't know where I'll get the money, baby. My dad cut me off and is this close to kicking me out, I figured I would sell one of his watches but I know how angry he'll be once he finds out. I don't know what to do, baby. Sarah's the one involving me in shit and then she just doesn't care about me"
"Hey, look at me" you took his face in your hands, making him look at you. "We're going to go home and explain the situation to my parents. I'm sure they'll be more than happy to help you. You're going to work to pay them back once we find you a job and everything is going to be okay. Sound good?"
He nodded, his eyes holding so much love for you and your family.
Your parents knew about his problems and they never once judged him for it. They understood what kind of environment he grew up in, how much neglect he suffered from Ward and did everything they could to fill the void his parents left. They made him feel loved and safe, helped him get through rehab and maintain his sobriety.
They were the parents he never had but desperately needed.
The drive to your house was short, you lived relatively close to the Cameron's. When you stopped the car, Rafe hesitated opening the door.
"What's wrong?" you asked, reaching over and laying your hand over his.
"I'm embarrassed. I don't want to disappoint your parents, ever, and here I am getting involved in shit like this"
"Hey, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. This is not your fault, it's Sarah's. We'll explain everything and then we'll see what we can do about it, does that sound okay?"
He nodded and managed to crack a small smile, unconvincing but still there.
♡♡♡♡♡
"Of course we'll help you, Rafe. Believe me, I understand all about younger siblings and their problems, they're not easy to deal with" your father said, patting Rafe on the back.
You had caught both of your parents at home and explained the whole situation to them. Rafe mainly kept his head down because he couldn't look them in the eyes, but they didn't even judge him for a second.
"I'm so sorry for doing this, Mr. Y/L/N, I wouldn't do it if I didn't think my life depended on it. This guy is serious and he is really dangerous, I'm afraid he might hurt someone if I don't pay him the money my sister stole" Rafe rushed to say, looking between your mother and father.
"Rafe, honey, it's okay. We understand and we aren't judging you. We'll help you in any way we can, you're part of our family and we take care of each other" your mother told him, standing up and hugging your boyfriend.
Rafe wrapped his arms around your mother tightly, savoring the motherly touch and love radiating off of her.
Your heart melted at the sight, knowing how much your mother meant to Rafe.
♡♡♡♡♡
"How did it go?" you asked Rafe as soon as he walked into your house.
He had decided to go to Barry's alone because he wanted to make sure you were safe and sound somewhere he couldn't hurt you.
"I'm free" his smile was so large you thought it was going to rip his face in half.
You squealed and jumped into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist.
He let out a big breath and laughed breathlessly, not believing the words he just spoke. He never thought he would be free of Barry, free of the drugs he supplied him, but you changed everything for him.
"Thank you" he said, pulling away just enough to see your face.
"You have nothing to thank me for. I love you and I wasn't about to let you suffer alone" you grabbed his cheeks with both your hands.
"I love you too" he leaned in and captured your lips with his.
And as you were standing in the middle of the living room in each other's arms, you knew there was nothing you couldn't do.
As long as you had each other, you could conquer the world.
Tumblr media
comments and re-blogs help us grow!
much appreciated!!
REQUEST HERE
369 notes · View notes
whoopsyeahokay · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
October Sun
summary: Wally had had no idea what he'd been looking at. Had barely had a reaction to it apart from subtle feelings of anxiety. In fact, it hadn't inspired anything more than a shrug and the thought of, "Neat. It's a tree."
pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader
warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.
bon reading, frens
___________________________💀
OCTOBER SUN pt.16
Group adjourned with Mr. Martin's instruction to pick anything but Rudy for tomorrow's Movie Night. Maddie split almost immediately; in pursuit of another lead or to stalk Mr. Anderson, Wally wasn't sure, but once he heard the door click behind her, he sagged in relief.
Too soon, he realized. When he looked up he saw Rhonda bolt from her seat and cut through the center of the circle like a shark through water, Charley on her heels.
"What was that?" She challenged, sizing the length of Wally up with a wave of her bare lollipop stem.
"What was what?"
Charley squinted at him, quickly scanned about before he leaned in and furtively said, "Oh, I don't know. How about that monstrosity of a performance you just forced us to participate in?"
Wally gulped, "I—"
"Spare us the crap, puppycat," Rhonda snipped, "We've seen each other's transcripts."
"I saw him misspell fundraiser," Charley added in a mockery of an anecdote Wally had shared during the session. And then, accusingly, "I know you know what a pun looks like."
Wally found himself on the back foot, mind going blank as he groped for an explanation that hedged the truth enough to get him out of Charley and Rhonda's crosshairs, but that didn't expose that he'd already known about the phone call and Mr. Anderson and the hush money.
"I was just...Uh..."
Unfortunately, Charley and Rhonda were too damn smart and your skill of inventing plausible excuses on the spot hadn't yet rubbed off on him. Inwardly, he reinforced his defenses and prepared for the Spanish Inquisition (nobody expects it).
"Wally," Rhonda said, blade-sharp, and Wally winced at her use of his actual name, "I know you think it's sweet to play clueless meathead in front of your crush—"
Oh. Okay. Sure. "That's—"
"—but, trust me, it doesn't work. Don't dumb yourself down just to get her to like you." Rhonda finished with a long-suffering roll of her eyes. An action that translated to mother-hen affection in a normal person.
"Besides," Charley said, a slack hint of sass to his syllables, "I think she just wants to figure things out. Not play tonsil hockey with a ghost who probably shared biology with the teacher that murdered her."
Wally tried to make his face react appropriately, had no idea if he pulled it off, but Charley and Rhonda didn't comment so he assumed it couldn't have been too bad.
"I don't think Mr. A is that old," Wally mumbled, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. "But...thanks, guys."
He had to acknowledge that it was nice that his friends cared about him. That they saw him as more than the overexcited golden retriever they often criticized him of being and wanted to make sure he wasn't trying to people-please his way into someone's heart.
Charley's expression mollified, "Anytime, big guy."
In feigned bitterness, "Well, I've done my good deed for the day," Rhonda announced, pushing past Wally to head for the door, "Let's go."
Wally turned as if to follow her, however, he caught Ajay's eye before he could commit to the action. He remembered then what Ajay had told him in the teacher's lounge about showing Wally something he 'needed to see'.
"I'll catch up in a bit," He called after Charley and Rhonda, backstepping toward Ajay to make his intentions obvious.
Charley shot Wally a lazy salute, "We'll be in the library for a while," and then turned on his heel to trail after Rhonda.
After decades of being in each other's pockets, it wasn't uncommon for members of their haunt to seek time one-on-one with each other. Everyone respected the unspoken exclusivity without comment and was especially understanding toward Wally, who had been the only teenage guy amongst them until 1992.
Bernie and Katelynn greeted Wally as he approached Ajay, though soon took their leave, Katelynn with a small and bashful, "See ya, Wally."
"Bye Katy-Cat." He said through a charming smile, ruffling her hair when she came into reach.
Katelynn shoved his arm away playfully, blowing Wally a raspberry before she continued over to the empty circle, immediately setting to work helping Mr. Martin and Bernie stack the chairs.
Wally turned back to Ajay, "Alright, my guy, where to?"
They exited through the side door, sunlight temporarily blinding Wally after having spent an hour sitting in the poorly lit assembly hall. Not giving Wally's eyes a chance to adjust, Ajay took him by the elbow and physically maneuvered him in the right direction.
"It won't seem like much," Ajay said as if in warning, "so you need to trust me." He released Wally's elbow when Wally began to move under his own power, and hurried his stride.
"I do trust you," Wally replied, voice bouncing as he picked up his pace to match Ajay's. "Whatever you're gonna show me, it's gotta be important."
Ajay's ears reddened. "Thank you."
They were headed toward the tree line along the backside of the school, the field spread out to Wally's right. Down the steps, along the path, picnic tables and chainlink fence. Cheerleaders practiced their pyramid and the junior gym class played kickball.
Anxiety began to creep over Wally as they neared the boundary line, a slow and subtle discharge of fear frequency transmitting across his brain in a cold flush.
"Heeey, are you sure this is the right way?" Wally had to ask, his skin starting to feel clammy and too tight on the bones of his fingers. He began to slow his steps, afraid of being circus-canoned back to the 5-yard line, but Ajay plowed ahead without concern. "Dude?"
Wally almost rammed into him for how abruptly Ajay stopped, the toes of Ajay's shoes so close to the invisible line it gave Wally heart palpitations.
"There." Ajay said, pointing at a tree that stood approximately two meters beyond the school grounds.
The tree wasn't anything special. Tall, leafy, burled in various places up its trunk, and roots weaved and whorled around its base, some thick enough to sit on comfortably. Carved initials and numbers and heart shapes by students who'd wanted to immortalize their memory in its bark. It was the kind of thing one would expect from a tree in a private area near a building full of teenagers, really.
"What am I looking at?" Wally asked.
"I don't know what it means, so don't ask me," Ajay stated, clearly preempting that Wally would have questions after whatever Ajay was preparing to demonstrate. Ajay crouched to gather a stone from the ground, "Watch this."
He tossed the stone. It smacked the tree, dislodging a piece of loose bark from the center of a crooked heart—bullseye—and fell without fanfare into a nest of roots, a thin poof of dirt raised on impact.
Wally waited for something to happen. And waited. A n d waited.
"I don't get it." He said after a few uneventful beats. "Was something supposed to happen?"
"It did happen." Ajay insisted, bending to pick up another stone.
That one, he handed to Wally and motioned for him to throw it at the tree. It hit, denting the bark, but again, that was the end of it. Wally peered up at the leaves—unruffled—then down at the roots—inert—and finally back at Ajay who pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Watch this." He commanded, scooping up another stone as he marched a few feet away. "Are you paying attention?" He asked, not unkindly; an earnest bid for Wally's focus.
Wally gave him a tight smile, "Yup," and a thumbs up, taking a few steps closer to prove the point.
Ajay flung the stone. Except, this time, it ricocheted back as soon as it pierced the barrier. Disappeared for a blink and then spat back out, flying in the reverse direction. Ajay threw his arms up and protected his face a split-second before the stone struck him, bouncing off his forearm to land with a thud at his feet.
Wally's jaw dropped, "What the shit?"
"Do you get it now?" Ajay questioned, dusting off his hands as he strolled back to Wally.
With a frown, "Sort of?" Wally reached for the barrier, not quite touching for fear of what could happen and where he'd end up, but just enough to feel its presence warm the palm of his hand. "I guess it would be too easy if we could go through, huh?"
"I attempted it a couple of times," Ajay shook his head, "Either way, the barrier is definitely weakest here. And," He paused, building suspense, "At four other points around the school."
Eyes fixed on the tree, Wally hypothesized, "If we figure out how to weaken it more at any of these points, we might be able to get out of here..."
"We just might," Ajay concurred, "I tried finding information in the library and the computer lab, but—" It was a Christian school board, he didn't have to say, and occult topics were heavily vetted.
There weren't likely to be any useful books available and the online network was limited, browsers blocking sites the school didn't want its students to visit. Wally's knowledge of the latter was an embarrassing smear on his reputation that he'd had to beg Charley to keep secret.
He shoved the memory back in its box and once more buried it in the darkest recesses of his mind.
Never again...
"You think my girl would know how to handle this?" Wally asked despite having already determined he was going to tell you about the barrier's weak points. He just wanted to make sure Ajay was aware and on board.
Ajay shrugged, "She certainly has access to more resources than we do. Couldn't hurt to mention it."
It was settled. Squaring his shoulders and straightening his spine, Wally broke his scrutiny of the tree and turned to Ajay.
"Alright, then, show me what we're working with."
💀___________________________
PART FIFTEEN - PART SEVENTEEN
also available on AO3!
MASTERLIST
103 notes · View notes
vigilskeep · 8 days
Note
wait, Minerva "canonically" has a baby?? i want to know everything!! when how what - how does motherhood change her, pls elaborate, srry if you talked about this before, i just love them so much
she does!! i talk abt this less bc i think its self-indulgent jghsskks and that people are less interested in this, but it’s super fun to think about for me
the baby was a surprise, minerva was kind of being stupid about it lmao because she was being less careful than she might have been in the circle, especially because she’s a warden now so she’s less likely to get pregnant at all, without really thinking through what might happen. (i’m sure our local kinloch hold spirit healer companions both had their field days telling her off for this at some point.) but as soon as it does happen she wants the baby so badly. as a circle mage and then a warden she had never really seriously considered it a possibility for herself, but she loves children, and it’s been so long since she had a real family
it’s zevran’s and zevran is in antiva most of the time. i think she has a weird crisis about whether he’ll want anything to do with a baby, and she would despise for him to come back just out of obligation but also what if he doesn’t come back, and she ends up procrastinating telling him for, like, months. just a stupid amount of time. bc she was born to stress her man out and to give her wardens unnecessary grudges against him because they thought he had obviously chosen not to be here because obviously she would have told him. truly when will his suffering end. anyway he’s thrilled when somebody eventually does him the courtesy of letting him know
the baby’s a boy, she names him duncan, it sparks a whole other argument with alistair that we won’t get into here. he gets nicknamed junior a lot, partly bc he’s duncan jr, partly bc of the ongoing joke that he’s the resident Junior Warden. he was very much raised in warden blue since the cradle. because minerva is so busy and zevran is often away, he’s pretty much collectively raised in vigil’s keep by the awakening squad and whoever else gets added to that trusted inner circle. which works out bc wardens don’t often have kids of their own so they all just kind of... share this one lmao. (and possibly sometimes also oghren and felsi’s kid if they stick around?) it’s velanna who instigates this bc that’s what the dalish do and she’s also literally the only one here who knows what to do with a baby so thank the maker she’s here (minerva’s practised with kids but by nature they don’t have babies in the circle)
i’m so thrilled that spellblade is a crow-themed rogue-like mage subclass bc that’s exactly what i always pictured for duncan jr eventually. he’s a mage, his magic manifests very young, but minerva is very strict abt his studies and it has the unfortunate reverse effect of making getting his dad or nathaniel or sigrun to teach him combat much more fun. it works out really bc his magic having manifested is a tightly kept secret so it’s good for him not to have to rely on it
being a mother kind of changes/crystallises a lot of minerva’s priorities. it’s one thing to say, like, i would like to improve the situation for my fellow mages at some point, or, it sure would be nice to live past a warden’s usual limits. it’s another thing entirely to have a mage child and need to make a world that’s safe for him and live long enough to see it done. it ends up being a key issue of her conflict with the chantry between origins and inquisition because nobody’s quite certain what the rules are. obviously if she were still a circle mage any child of hers would be taken away. but she’s not a circle mage and arguably the chantry has no right to a child born outside of the circle, with no sign yet (as far as anyone outside vigil’s keep knows) of magic. (like i say it manifested younger than normal so this is believable even to those who think he will eventually show.) it definitely exacerbates tensions, shall we say, because obviously they can pry him out of her cold dead hands
he’s probably still only quite young in inquisition. six or seven? somewhere around there, i hate timelines. not sure where he is while minerva and her squad are on their quest, but given the very short list of people she trusts that much, i have to say that the most insane answer is likely: he’s in denerim as a temporary ward of the king. probably the first elven kid to be such
85 notes · View notes