#i cannot for the life of me remember every company he's been in forgive me

[pepperstreak]

Welcome to tumblr @effylives

I promise we're gonna be very normal about it

[usmsgutterson]

The Halloweek of Angst: DAY SEVEN

WANDERLUST- Kaz Brekker

Okay! Today is the second-last day of this event. Tomorrow is the last day. I know it was technically supposed to only be seven posts, but I miscounted somehow when planning this one out, so forgive me for that error! 

Here’s the second-last day of this event!

Fic type- hurt/comfort

Warnings-kaz is a bit of a menace in the first argument. He’s ooc but it’s just because he’s a bit more mean during the first scene

You’d never really stayed in one spot for too much time. Your parents always had you travelling before they’d passed, before you found yourself in Ketterdam, content in the company of criminals. 

Your accent was an amalgamation of voices from all the places you visited, and one that was a bit of a talking point when you initially moved to Ketterdam at sixteen. By the time that you were eighteen, however, it’d dulled down to nothing. 

You had what everyone called a wanderlust. You had an innate desire to travel, and as you were, a resident in Ketterdam known both for their skill with a variety of different weapons and their romance with Kaz, it still existed. You still wanted to travel, although most would argue that you’d seen just about every corner of the world. 

Jesper and Wylan thought it be funny, really. The guy who’d lived in Ketterdam as long as he could be bothered to remember, the guy who wanted to stay there and only leave when it pertained to something that’d be beneficial in the financial department, and the person who would’ve been content to leave the moment they found reason to. The one who was always still was in love with the one in near constant motion. 

As amusing as it may have sounded, it wasn’t amusing, really. It resulted in some consistent fighting, fights that neither of you wanted. It meant going to bed angry and giving yourself reasons to stay while ignoring the reasons to go. 

“How much effort is it, really?” Kaz yelled. “How much effort can it be to stay in Ketterdam, Y/N? Is everything that you want not here? Is it somewhere else?” 

“Oh, don’t you dare say that to me!” You snapped. “You know for a fact that I have every reason to stay except for the reason that I want to go. I was raised this way, Kaz. I was raised in a way that prevented me from staying in one spot too long. You knew that I might find cause to leave when I came here! I made that clear from the start!” 

The longest you’d stayed in one spot had been two and a half years. You were inching up to that benchmark with every day that passed, and you could sometimes feel yourself itching to get a boat ticket somewhere. Just pack your life up and go. 

“If you don’t want to stay here anymore, if you can’t, you’re welcome to leave! I put two years into our relationship. I hate to sit here and realize that it all meant nothing.”

Your jaw clenched as you shot him a glare. 

“Fine, then. If you want me to go, I’m gone. No trace of me, not even my name, will be in Ketterdam by tomorrow morning. It’ll be as though I was never here, which I know you’re probably thinking to be your preference right about now.” 

With the words, you left, slamming the door before Kaz could even so much as open his mouth to respond, to ask you to stay even though he knew that your leaving was what was best. 

It hurt him. It left a wound that cut deeper than most others were capable of, but the soul of a person who wanders and the soul of one who is meant to stay in place cannot always find a way to make things work. 

-----

Four years passed you in the blink of an eye, and before you knew it, you were twenty-two, returning to Ketterdam and dreading it. Some part of you had been craving going back since you left, running back into the Slat and settling in as though leaving had never crossed your mind.

Your wanderlust existed even still, but it wasn’t nearly as severe as it’d been four years before. You travelled for six months after you left. You saw most of what you hadn’t gotten the chance to see before, and after then, you made a life in Ravka. You shelled out some money to buy a flat in the city, began working as a travel agent, adopted a cat. 

You stayed in Ravka for three and a half years. Everyday, you wrote letters to Kaz. Ones that you never sent. 

You told him everything, technically. Wrote about the innate need to travel finally dulling down into something manageable, something that didn’t warrant simply picking up and going. You wrote about the fact that your heart seemed to think that true north had been Ketterdam. You wrote that you were sorry for how you left, how unresolved things had always felt.

But, in the end, you supposed that your letters didn’t matter. They couldn’t’ve if you’d burned them, anyway, which you’d made sure to do, setting them alight in a garbage can near the docks. 

When you arrived at the Slat, Kaz’s face was the first one you saw. His gaze softened for a split second as he looked at you before hardening back to what it rested at. A resting face of indignance and indifference. 

He ended the conversation he was in and approached you. 

“I know my presence is the last one you want in this place, and I should’ve written before, but I--” you cut yourself off. “I’m sorry for the fight that day. I’m sorry for how I left. I regret leaving every single day.” 

“I’m sorry, too,” Kaz said. Like clockwork, the two of you head for the stairs, moving to his floor. “I didn’t mean that I wanted you to go. Whether you stay or you don’t is not my choice. It never has been. I’m sorry for making you feel as though it was.”

“You didn’t,” you said. “I just thought you wanted me gone. Two years of my antics, I figured you’d grown tired of them.” 

Kaz shook his head as the two of you made your way through his floor, to his office. 

“There’s a room on the second floor that you can stay in for now, if you’d like,” he said. “How long will the folk of the Dregs get to enjoy your presence?” 

“As long as I’m allowed to stay,” you said. “Four years is how long it took me to come back here. I don’t plan on picking up and leaving again anytime soon, so I’ll stay as long as you’ll let me.”

Kaz grinned. “You didn’t tailor away the tattoo, did you?”

You rolled up a sleeve to showcase your right forearm, palm facing the sky as the tattoo met the light. 

“The ink is faded and I could use a few retouches, but no. I couldn’t get rid of it. Not for anything.” 

“All right, then. Heist in two weeks. In our out?”

“In, Brekker,” you grinned, admitting to yourself, finally, that it wasn’t just Kaz you’d missed, but the crime aspect of the Barrel as well. “Always.” 

“Always.” Kaz repeated with a nod. 

Your life was far from perfect. Nobodies life was, but life always has a thing for perfect moments.

Such a moment as that was perfect to you. 

[themculibrary]

Hurt!Stephen Masterlist

A Perfect Body to the Grave (ao3) - HithertoUndreamtOf G, 465

Summary: Stephen gets kidnapped and buried alive by a group of other-dimensional beings.

A Strange Christmas Carol (ao3) - HithertoUndreamtOf T, 11k

Summary: A retelling of the classic A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens.

Stephen Strange is visited by three ghosts that teach him the value of teamwork and self-preservation, all while finding the joy in Christmas again.

each night like a white noise frequency (ao3) - Phierie tony/stephen M, 8k

Summary: Stephen is no stranger to making hard choices. He doesn’t regret his actions on Titan, but months later they weigh on his mind heavier than ever; the cracks begin to show.

Even Abraxas got Cornered (ao3) - HithertoUndreamtOf G, 3k

Summary: On a hunt to find the Talisman of Abraxas, Stephen quickly learns that he shouldn't have underestimated his enemies.

Every Scar Tells a Story (ao3) - HithertoUndreamtOf G, 699

Summary: Stephen's collection of scars over the years, some of which may not be physical.

Hold Me Still (ao3) - lantia4ever tony/stephen T, 10k

Summary: Just days away from Christmas Eve, duty calls for the newly allied Sorcerers and Avengers. As Stephen departs with Tony to tackle the threat, one wrong step later he realizes the alliance might be quite short-lived.

But one should never underestimate the force that is Tony Stark.

I missed you (ao3) - DarkKitty1208 tony/stephen G, 4k

Summary: What he pulled out was nothing close to his expectations. A single piece of cloth, likely ripped off of Stephen’s ridiculous wizard get-up, but it wasn’t just that. Blood splattered and seeped into it, a unique blend of the blue in his robes with a heavy tint of red, the smell coming out of it leaving him sick to the stomach.

i’ve always known in the end, i’d be sorry (ao3) - rainbowsponge mj/peter 14k

Summary: After the world forgot Peter Parker, one man remembered. Peter is in desperate need of anyone and Stephen Strange has no idea how to be a dad.

Light is Dark and Dark is Light (ao3) - HithertoUndreamtOf T, 3k

Summary: Stephen gets mistaken as the Sorcerer Supreme in battle and used as a lab rat.

Love Never Dies (ao3) - Blondie2000 wanda/stephen M, 4k

Summary: She places her hand on his chest. Her touch causes him to shiver. He knows he should pull away but as each second passed he found himself being drawn to her. Her words had a affect on him, made him see everything from a new perspective. He has been alone for so long the need for company suddenly consumed him.

Strange smiles and draws Wanda in for a kiss

Only When I Sleep (ao3) - Laily loki/tony/stephen G, 1k

Summary: Stephen is at the end of his wits trying to convince Loki to love him. Tony tries to help.

Puppet of Agony (ao3) - Kenobi1 T, 10k

Summary: How much does it take to break the unbreakable? Stephen Strange thought he knew pain until he met Ebony Maw. He was wrong, and suddenly death seems more forgiving than life. He knows he can’t survive the unimaginable horrors on his own, so he’s lucky he has some friends to help him out. Based off the Infinity War trailer. Warning: torture.

Siblings (ao3) - KuroPlayer tony/stephen G, 1k

Summary: Stephen was reminded of his siblings and Tony comforted him.

Survivors of the Wreck of Time (ao3) - amethyst-noir (Arbonne) tony/stephen T, 16k

Summary: Stephen had been in love with Tony Stark for so long, and through so many different timelines, that the feeling had become a fixed part of his being, something that was just there, fully intertwined with his very soul. Something that was treasured, something that gave him strength and comfort when he needed it, something he held close to his heart without even consciously being aware of it.

(Sometimes a timeline has to bend and twist to make things that are supposed to be happen.)

Unceasing (ao3) - Mcufaninmydreams tony/stephen M, 668

Summary: Stephen Strange has been held captive by Thanos for as far back as he can remember. He cannot think back very far, not when metal scrapes the insides of his bones and his arms are forever bound in mystical chains.

When The Maw finds out Dr. Strange was once a neurosurgeon, he comes up with an enjoyable new way to hurt the man.

under dust and rubble (ao3) - DarkKitty1208 tony/stephen G, 2k

Summary: It happened so quickly. One slip and they're suddenly trapped under fallen rubble, unable to escape, so close to each other that their knees are touching and their breaths are mingling with the other's; Tony's surprised they aren't dead or crushed under already. Stephen doesn't currently have his sling ring in hand, and neither of them could blast their way out as doing so will only cause the debris to fall and crush them. They are painfully aware of the fact that the only way for them to even survive this is to wait until help arrives.

Basically, they're stuck.

when we have each other, we have everything (ao3) - IronMum tony/stephen G, 61k

Summary: “Take it from the top. Tell me everything,” Stephen inquired as he took the seat opposite, hands steepled together and lightly pressed against his chin.

“Got a distress call from Peter’s suit. Tracked him down but couldn’t connect to his AI. Arrived on the scene to find exhibit A: tiny child, tangled up in the Stark Suit. Kid says he’s Peter Parker and the scans confirm it. Short Stuff just got shorter.” Or… Tony and Stephen go from snarky acquaintances to friends to idiot dads who clearly love each other whilst solving the mystery of a de-aged Peter.

[inqorporeal]

Post-66 Pirate AU?

The "Post-66 Pirate AU", which doesn't have a proper title, is basically a massive What If? where instead of taking Luke to Tatooine, Obi-Wan hides him among Hondo's pirate company and gets more involved with the rebellion from the start instead of hiding in a cave.

It took some time -- and some costly flying, breaking the remains of his fleet into smaller groups -- to triangulate the signal's source: a beacon dropped in an asteroid field on the outer reaches of an uninhabitable system. The code, however… oh, Hondo knew that code. He was one of perhaps only a handful of sentients entrusted with it, and assembling a response took the better part of a day. Their patience was rewarded when a small ship, barely more than a shuttle, emerged from its hiding place on one of the larger asteroids and made its cautious way out.

As hiding places went, it was a surprisingly effective one. One would have to be quite the pilot to make it through. Hondo commanded the hangar bay be opened and rushed down in time to see the battered craft settle in the tiny space between the other ships.

When the ramp finally opened, Hondo could have wept with relief. He restrained himself from running to the man who emerged warily, instead walking forward with his arms outstretched in welcome.

“My friend! It relieves me greatly to see you alive!”

General Kenobi -- oh, who was Hondo kidding, he had long since landed on more familiar terms with the Jedi -- cast nervous eyes around the hangar. “Hondo. I… had hoped that was your ship I'd spotted.”

Pressing a hand to his chest, Hondo gasped, “You truly hoped it was me? Kenobi, I'm touched!” Now in range, he reached out and grasped the human's shoulders. “You look dreadful, my friend. And, not to put too fine a point on it, but you smell dreadful as well. Does that tiny craft have only sonics? You must have been hiding there for some time! Come, come, we will find you something less, eh, aromatic to wear--”

Obi-Wan was protesting and finally raised his voice over Hondo's relieved babble. “Please! I need to talk to you first.” He pulled Hondo up the ramp into the shuttle, which was most definitely going to be stripped for parts and tossed back among the asteroids before they left this system.

Given the events of the past few months, Hondo could forgive his friend's paranoia. “What is it, Kenobi? How did you end up out here?”

The Jedi sagged into one of the few seats in the cramped lounge/galley. “I was trying to reach Tatooine, but there was an unexpected Imperial presence in the system. I got as far away as I could, but I'm almost out of fuel. And supplies.” He gave an exhausted laugh and scrubbed his hands over his unshaven face. “It's been a very long week.”

“So I imagine!” There was an additional smell in the air that Hondo couldn't quite place; he glanced around without being too obvious about it. “But why would you want to go to Tatooine, of all the dustballs? There are many more pleasant worlds to choose from.”

The Jedi ceased his fidgeting long enough to give the pirate a measuring look. “I was… on a mission, I suppose. But the Star Destroyers made me reconsider. You're not being pursued, are you?”

Hondo had to laugh; it came out sounding more cracked and fragile than he liked. “Us? No, no more than any other pirates now. We cannot stay in one place too long, you see.”

Obi-Wan was nodding as he spoke. “It might be for the best,” he murmured, more to himself, but Hondo tilted his head in curiosity. The Jedi shook himself and offered a small, half-hearted grin that didn't quite reach his exhaustion-bruised eyes. “Do you remember all those times you invited me to join your crew?”

Hondo’s heart leaped at the question, but he could play the cagey game, if that would set Obi-Wan at ease. “Of course! Your skills would be an invaluable asset -- and if I may say, you are every bit as conniving as a pirate should be, my friend. The life would suit you.”

The other man's mouth twitched with actual humor. “If your offer was in earnest, then consider me speculating. However, I have a… complication.”

“There are always complications.”

“Indeed.” Obi-Wan gestured for Hondo to wait as he went into the closet-sized cabin; he emerged a moment later with a blanket-wrapped bundle cradled in his arms. “This is my complication.”

Hondo stared at the sleeping… infant? He had never before seen a human so young or tiny. Carefully, he tugged part of the blanket back so he could see the chubby pink face. Something about the way Obi-Wan held the child suggested much more than simple protectiveness.

“Kenobi,” he said softly, “who is this?”

“One of the last Jedi younglings, rescued from the purge of the Temple.” It wasn't entirely true, from the way Obi-Wan's eyes shifted, but Hondo would let him keep the story. No wonder he clutched the bundle like it was priceless. “He must be kept safe from the Emperor. We had thought Tatooine would be beyond his notice, but it seems not. But it is very difficult to locate a ship in space….” He trailed off, glancing up at Hondo with cautious hope, even as Hondo filed the mysterious ‘we’ away for later questioning. “Staying with you might be safer.”

[alewritesfics]

Another Scandal

Summary: Maybe Lady Bridgerton and Lady Danbury's plan won't work, after all, it was only a matter of time when a new scandal would rise concerning them

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Sharma Sister!reader

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: angst, more arguments *sigh*, at least one happy moment in so long

Series Masterlist

☆☆☆☆

“Everything will be alright, bon” Kate assures me as we step out of the carriage. “Just breath and you will be alright” I gave her a thankful smile, holding on to her arm.

“Lady Danbury” Anthony and Lady Bridgerton approaches us, different types of bouquets of flowers on the Viscount’s hands.

“Lady Mary, Miss Sharma” He gave mama and Kate a bouquet, and then moved on to me.

“Miss Y/n..” He handed me a bouquet of lilacs, holding my stare, his hand lingering on mine before he turned to Edwina

My heart warmed at the gesture, thinking back to the night were I told Anthony that, lilacs, were my favorites. He made sure to remember that.

“Miss Edwina, i-“ Edwina handed the bouquet to the footman, I gave her a look making her sent me a glare back

“How thoughtful of you, Lord Bridgerton” Lady Danbury mused

“Now, remember, before we are to sent out our invitations, we must appear to be enjoying each other's company” Lady Bridgerton said as she looked at Edwina “Shall we?” she gestured to the entrance of the museum.

Edwina walked in first, followed by Lady Bridgerton, mama and Kate. I gave my flowers to the footman, before I walked in, sparing no glance to Anthony.

I walked along with Lady Bridgerton and Edwina, paying no heed to the murmurs that followed us as we walked.

“Do not be deterred. If we can put the wedding behind us, so can they” Lady Bridgerton said before we all parted, Kate and I, headed off to see what the museum offers.

“I am grateful for you, deedee” I admit as we stared up at the sculpture of a man and woman “ for your support, all this time, since I’ve told you of my feelings, you have been nothing but understanding and supportive, you have not once judged me for what I did, nor shut me out, and I am grateful to call, and have you as, my sister” Kate smiled

“I know you would have done the same, were I, in your place” Kate stared at me happily “And you have, when everything happened with the Sheffield’s inheritance, you let me explain myself and did not hold any ill feelings towards me. Just like I know that you will be when I tell you that, indeed, I met a man back in India” I looked at her shocked

“I will tell you all about it some other time, for now, there is too much ears around” Kate laughed while I nodded

“It seems both Miss Cowper and Miss Goring are swallowing the story about the engagement being halted due to a mutual decision” Edwina murmured as she approached us

“That is good” Kate says

“Well, I appear to be a very good liar” Edwina turned to look at me “Something else you and the Viscount have taught me, perhaps”

“Edwina” I huffed “What will it take for you to forgive me? Because honestly, I am getting tired of all your snide remarks everything the Viscount and I are in the same place. But you are my sister, and if I must apologize every day for the rest of my life, I will”

“But you cannot say you forgive me and then continue making this type of comments, with the excuse of being hurt. Your happiness is all that has mattered to me, Bon, to us” I gestured to Kate and I “and believe me, I am reaping the consequences of destroying it every second and day that passes” Edwina stayed silent

“ I remember the books you used to read to me from Appa’s library.” Edwina tells Kate “The stories of true love and happy endings against all odds. Now I question if either of those things are true. Do you, yourself, truly believe them?”

“Of course I believe in true love, and happy endings. How could I not?” I answered

“You saw appa and mama, how happy they once were-” Kate added

“What I saw is how even that ended in tragedy. Happy endings do not exist, sisters. At least not in real life. Even if I do forgive you with time, y/n, I am never going to forget, you be sure of that” I blinked away my tears as Edwina walked away from us. Kate rubbing my shoulder comfortingly

“Give her more time-“

“How much time am I suppose to give her? It has been a week and she still is as hurt as when she found out. I do not understand why she is acting as though it is the end of love. Anthony is the first man she has even remotely liked, and has not even bothered to look at any other man, and I daresay, she only liked him because he was the first man to pursue her, and because of his title. I know it is cruel for me to say this, but it is true. She does not love him, if Edwina really loved Anthony as much as she acts like she does, she would only desire to see him happy, no matter who it is with” I scoffed

“She is just seventeen, she has more time to become a wife, or fall in love, so why I’d she acting like love is not real”

“I am not sure” Kate pursued her lips “With time she will forget about it, I am sure, she will fall in love again with another man and we will all go back to how we were before everything happened”

“I really hope so, deedee, I really do” I mumbled

“Now, I will go speak to mama and Lady Danbury” I nodded before she left

And then there was one, one who was seriously rethinking everything she has done since coming to London.

Were those moments I shared with Anthony, really worth it? Was he worth it? Losing my sister’s trust and love over my feelings for the Viscount. Something which I know I will never get back, no matter how much Kate says I will.

I will never be as close to Edwina as I was before coming London. Edwina herself has said it, she may forgive me, but she will never forget, and I know that she will always be reminded of pain I inflicted when she sees me or spends time with me.

I never asked for it, any of it. And if I could take it back, I would. No man is worth losing family over, at least the family that has always loved and supported you.

“Miss Y/n” Anthony snapped me out of my thoughts, I looked at him behind the sculpture. “I’ve been wishing for a moment to be alone with you. To speak”

“There is nothing to speak about, Viscount Bridgerton” I murmured

“We kissed-“

“We did no such thing. Nothing happened between us, how could it?. You were my sister’s intended, there is no world in which we could kiss”

He rounded the sculpture, looking at me in disbelief “Are you quite serious?”

“We, I, did a terrible thing” I stare at him as he walked closer “We should be ashamed of what we did. It was a mistake, it should not have happened at all” he furrowed his eyebrows

“And there is no way it is ever going to happen again” I march off, leaving him behind staring as, this time, it is me walking away from him

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

We walk through the Bridgerton house, all decorated for tonight’s ball.

Edwina still could not bare to look at me, and has not done so at all this past few days, unless necessary. To say I was hurt, angry and confused with everything going on was a understatement.

“Well, this is unexpected” Lady Bridgerton mused as we walk through the doors, the place was completely deserted, not a single soul that was not us, present.

“It is still quite early, I suppose” mama assured

“Would you still like us to play, my lady?” a man approached Lady Bridgerton

“That will not be necessary”

“If there’s no need for my presence, I’ll head to my studio” Benedict said, patting his eldest brother’s shoulder “I do not wish to be around such misery all evening”

“Wait!” Anthony called out

“I know of your opinions brother-“

“You will stay for a dance” Anthony pats his cheek “There shall be dancing, a new perspective, yes?” we all looked at each other confused before he turned back to the staircase

“Hyacinth!”

“Yes, brother?”

Anthony puts out his hands “Come down here and do me the honor” I smile as Hyacinth comes down the staircase happily, Gregory following behind.

“Come! Show this dowager the benefit of all these lessons I heat you’ve been taking, Mr. Bridgerton” Lady Danbury says as she puts her walking stick away

“He is much better than me, I’ll say” Eloise mused

“Something lively. A country dance, perhaps” Anthony said as we all grabbed hands, forming a circle. I felt Anthony’s stare at me as the music started, I stared back at him, smiling admiringly.

We separated into pairs, bowing as we started to dance. We laughed as the men walked into the middle of the circle before choosing a pair. I got stuck with Kate and Colin, not that I am complaining.

Now it was our turn to walk into the circle, after, I was still with Colin while Kate was now with Lady Bridgerton. We twirled happily, our moods now brightening. We formed a circle, the men’s turn to walk in. This time, Anthony walked towards me before anyone else could.

I laughed as he smiled smugly, twirling me around, holding me softly, a lot closer than we needed to, as we stared at each other’s eyes. But this was our time to be close without anyone saying anything.

He twirled me around one last time before the dance ended. Us still holding each other’s hands as we breathed heavily. He pulled me closer when everyone was not paying attention, giving my cheek a kiss. I playfully shoved him away, smiling, before I stepped away from him.

“Perhaps a quadrille” Hyacinth suggested cheerfully

“Perhaps, we should start eating some of that food” Colin said

We headed off towards the tables, Kate and I chatting happily as we grabbed some food. I extended my hand to grab a glass of lemonade, instead I crashed into another’s grabbing the same thing. I laughed as I looked up, Anthony’s smiled greeting me. He gestured for me to grab the glass and I did, thanking him

“It was just delivered ma’am” we looked at them to see Mrs. Wilson handing Lady Bridgerton a piece of paper.

“Is that Lady Whistledown?” Eloise asked as she approached them “Has she published, mama?”

“Indeed she has, now we may know why we are the only ones here” Lady Bridgerton answered as she read. We crowded around them as they looked up shocked.

Eloise looked crestfallen as she finished, we looked at each other worriedly as she ran up to her bedchambers. With the mood now ruined, we did not know what to do.

“Should we return home now, bon” Kate asked Edwina as we approached her.

“As if you cared what I would like to do” Edwina answered angrily

“Edwina, this is cruelty-“ Kate huffed

“Do not dare… try to make me out to be the cruel one. I may not know who I truly am, but at least I know I am kind hearted than you” Edwina looked at me

“Have you not been listening to anything I have told you, Edwina, i-“ I looked at her hurt

“Enough, Y/n, you have done more than enough” She walked towards mama

“Y/n, do not list-“ I ignore Kate’s words and walk off outside, frustrated tears falling down my face.

[witch-hazels-musings]

Angst in coming. Diluc Zhongli and your pick being haunted by the SO they couldnt save.

Lingering Regret

Warning -> Only Angst (there isn’t a happy ending here, the reader is dead, all interactions are memories*, mentions of Kaeya (D), illness non-specific (Zh)) 

( i made myself cry ) 

Character X GN Reader | Anthology 

Includes: Dainsleif, Diluc, Zhongli 

The ghosts of the past cling to our shadows and seep into our memories when we least expect them to. For some they can move on, they can be healed by the passing of time, but for others, it becomes a festering wound that will never seal. 

Dainsleif

He was no stranger to regret, absolutely everything in his life was a torturous experience. From the day he became the Bough Keeper to the night he failed them all, it was a memory burned in his mind for all eternity and as if he bore the weight of all of Teyvats karma he wove it into the fabric of his being 

There was nothing he thought could break him more, could lower himself further into the sinking sandpit that was his life - that was until the day he met you

Just how many years ago was it now. With the curse of immortality like a chain to a world he was obligated to avenge, it was growing harder and harder to remember you - but there were moments when he could see and those were the ones he longed to hold onto 

“Dainsleif, are you ready?” Your voice called down to him, his eyes flooded by the bright light that surrounded you as you patiently waited for him to climb the dark stairs. You followed him everywhere, much to his disagreement, but he had grown warm to your company. “The day won’t wait for us, you know.” 

The light was so bright, why was it hiding your face? Wait -- let me see your face, I can’t remember. Don’t … don’t leave. 

He blamed himself for your death - there was no one else who could have stopped it but him and, on the day you left this world to a place he had no way of reaching, was the day he stopped caring 

There were rumors of a man who took little to no payment for almost any job - 300 mora and he’d handle your issue. They called him “The soulless vessel” for he was void of any and all emotions 

How could he hold onto something that he didn’t understand anymore, how was he capable of experiencing a sensation that had no more purpose - he was nothing but a shell without you 

“Psst, Daini. Hey sleepy, wake up.” The sound of your laughter, let me hear it again.

“Silly, we can’t sleep forever, wake up.” The touch of your hands, oh I remember them now … were they always this small. 

“I guess we can rest a bit longer, you know I won’t mind.” Your lips, how could I have forgotten their warmth; I’ll let you remind me. 

“Dainsleif, I love you.” 

The birds pulled him from his dream, their chirping calls to each other a playful and carefree tune. He felt the warmth of the sun on his face, how it cast its glow across his lips but as the memory of his dream began to fade away he covered his eyes with his hand to hide the tears that disappeared into his hair.

“Forgive me …” 

 Diluc

Lingering ghosts loved to slip into the darkness that was Diluc Ragnvindr - when they fit so perfectly there, why wouldn’t they make him their home 

He had countless people close to him perish and each one was a direct result of his actions - his father, a slash of a blade, his brother, a clash of opposing elements, his values, a single dismiss of a hand, his friends, the darkness of the abyss and the hands of the Fatui -- there was nothing he let get close anymore because it was only a matter of time before he brought it crumbling to the pit of his existence 

How could he have been so naive - what was hope but a debilitating disease and yet you purged all of that from his mind every time you entered his space, every time you pushed your way past the walls he so expertly crafted -- you were the last thing he clung to, the last light he vowed to protect 

“You know, you don’t have to worry about me all the time, I’m more capable than you think.” You crossed your arms and gave him a cocky smirk, the bag of supplies resting at your feet as they waited for you to pick them back up again. It was only because of his hesitancy that they were there in the first place. 

“I have seen your capabilities many times, yes.” 

“So, what, you don’t trust me.” 

“That is far from the truth.” He looked at you for a moment before sighing in defeat. His hand reached for the bag and lifted it to your hands. “Do be careful, is all that I ask.” 

“You know I will.” With a bright smile, you took the pack and slung it over your shoulder. In your excitement, you turned toward the door before pausing as if you forgot something and when you hurled yourself back to him only to place a kiss on his lips, he felt the heat from his pounding heart rise into his cheeks. “See you soon, handsome.” 

“I’ll be waiting.” 

The distant and closed-off winery owner turned into a being of rage the day of your death. No matter how hard those closest to him tried to quell the wildfire that was his fury, they could only stand back and deal with the aftermath - The flame of Diluc’s devastation was so great that it left a permanent scar in Mondstadt and to this day the earth has yet to heal 

It was on him to protect you and he couldn’t, he wasn’t even there to try and he wasn’t sure what was worse - but one was for sure, the anguish he felt knowing you called out for him but he never came to save you ate him up inside. He wasn’t Diluc Ragnvindr anymore, he was no-one 

“Diluc! Come back!” Kaeya shouted but he couldn’t hear over the sound of the violent crashing and eerie nothingness in front of him. 

“Kaeya, don’t!” Another voice joined the noise but Diluc didn’t turn around. In front of him was the only answer to his shattered and empty heart. 

“Diluc please, they wouldn’t want this!” Kaeya reached for Diluc’s arm but the pressure and wind from the opening were so great it felt like a thousand anchors were strapped to his body. “Diluc!” 

Suddenly, there was silence. No noise, no sound but the world continued to whip around like a violent storm. Kaeya’s fingers touched the fabric of his brother's coat and, as Diluc turned his head to look back, tears were streaming down his face. It was strange to see Diluc’s lips moving as if he were saying something but there was nothing, an unbearable amount of nothing.

Riddled with fear, Kaeya extended his hand toward the rip in space and as soon as he felt the pulse of his vision escape his fingers, his others curled around Diluc’s jacket and flung him backward. In the settling explosion, the sound of the world slipped back in and as those who cared deeply for the man who no longer knew his name drew closer, the first thing they saw was his hunched-over body guarded by blue and the sound of his painful cries. 

Zhongli

To know suffering, to know loss was nothing new to the Geo Archon. For six thousand years he watched those close to him rise in greatness and fall in agony - for some they were thrust into death by a number of means and for others, well, his hands have never been clean 

Still, even if he had known what it was like to lose someone he loved, it was never easy and while he always knew the day would come when you left this world to walk a path he’d never know, it wasn’t something he expected so soon 

There were endless memories he couldn’t wait to make with you - the engraving your life into the notches of his soul, to be reminded of your face by simply turning around, to recall your wit with banter of his own, to be inspired by you every single day he stepped out the door -- why didn’t you stay 

“Welcome home, Zhongli.” You were already preparing the table with the teacups by the time he entered your home. It was elegant incarnate to watch you move around the room, to place everything so perfectly and properly that he wondered if you hadn’t been a spirit in another life. 

“I am home.” He reached for your waist and pulled you close, his smile setting yours off, and as the kettle began to sound he first greeted you with a heartwarming kiss. 

There are many things he can circumvent - his capabilities are endless but he found that no matter how strong a person is, there is one thing strength cannot beat 

To watch you slowly suffer was a torturous thing. Every day you grew weaker and weaker, your skin changed but the kindness of your smile outweighed it all until the day finally came ... 

A ceremony to send someone off is a beautiful thing, a celebration of their life while they kept it their own, a remembrance and blessing to hold strong every impact they made - but to Zhongli that day was laced with bitterness 

He made the arduous steps up the hillside. His legs carried him on even when nothing else of him felt the desire to do so. When he finally reached the peak, he prepared everything so skillfully as if he’d practiced this a thousand times, and it's possible he did for there was no end to his life even if he wished for it. 

“My dear, the flowers are blooming splendidly.” He set the burning incense by the weathered tombstone. It had faded and eroded over the years, but as he brushed the engraving with his fingers, he could still make out its marks. 

The chimes in the tree rang out as he poured a glass of tea before setting it against the small offering before you. “Ah, I can only hope you are able to see them from beyond the veil.” As he gazed out over the vast field, the sun illuminated the thousands of flowers that surrounded your grave, and, as he took a sip of his tea, he sighed contentedly before continuing, “Never worry, I shall cultivate more until you do. I know how fond you were of flowers.”

--

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[clouds-rambles]

Would you be okay with writing some sfw headcanons for how Venti, Zhongli, and Kaeya kiss their s/o?

Hells yeah! Kissing is not my forte I only kiss strangers people when I’m hammered so like uhh please forgive me too many covid scares, too many

Guys, I’ve been indoctrinated into Kazuha fanclub so I might just skip Zhongli and Eula for him. He’s so cool. No wdym I don’t have an obsession with the anemo characters

Pairing(s); (Seperate) Venti, Zhongli, and Kaeya x reader

Warning(s); fluff

Keep reading under the cut!

Venti

Venti enjoys kissing you as much as he can. Mostly about your face but he truly does enjoy it

More often then not he’ll greet you with a kiss on the cheek, while you’re going about your chores. It’s cute

Too many a time have the two of you been caught kissing each other at the back of Angels Share

Making out with Venti isn’t just an at home thing. Sometimes he’ll drag you into a quiet part in the bar, sit you on his lap and make out with you

Venti is experienced. He’s lived a long life, who wouldn’t expect him to take the company of others once in a while. Yet you can tell he cherishes you differently

When you first started dating often make out sessions would often lead to the bed outcome. But now that Venti has learned what it’s like to be in a romantic relationship making out is often seen as a past time.

Venti’s lips aren’t the softest, yet their not the most chapped. He’s the kind of person to only put on lipbalm when his lips are becoming more chapped. 

If the lipbalm isn’t in Venti’s sights 24/7 you might have to remind him that it exists. He’ll thank you and put it on

Much like makeouts as your relationship progresses and Venti realises there’s more to a relationship than lust his kisses become more romantic

You’ve done something that you’ve spent forever on? Kiss time! You’ve just opened the door to let Venti in? Kiss time! Venti just feels like it? Kiss time!

He loves it when the two of your faces are close together. And just before you kiss you tell him that you love him. He swoons for that, he feels so protected under your hold. Suddenly he isn’t an archon, he’s just a simple bard with his lover

Zhongli

He’s not the biggest fan of PDA, he often opts to kissing your hand or forehead when he’s in public, but despite the lack of excess of PDA you cannot help but feel delicate and loved whenever he directs the simple gestures towards you

Sometimes if Zhongli is feeling particularly adventurous, you’ll receive a chaste kiss on the lips. Especially if you say something that makes him swoon

At home your favoured position is resting between your beloveds thighs where the two of you read books and share the occasional kiss

Zhongli has long thought of making out to be something that only leads to sexual acts, but time and time again you prove him wrong with sweet, delicate makeout sessions that make Zhongli nothing but swoon

As much as Zhongli likes to treat you as something delicate, you love to return the favour. He loves the lingering touches on his cheeks and lips. And also enjoys the feeling of your lips delicately brushing his own

Zhongli’s lips are soft. But you’ve never seen the man put on lipbalm. Is this the power of an ex-archon? Perfectly soft lips?

It makes you want to kiss him a lot more

If you’re feeling particularly adventurous give him a kiss on the lips while you’re in public and just watch as his face turns red with embarrassment

It’ll turn redder if someone like Childe is eating dinner with the two of you. It’s a little amusing to say the least

Though prepare for a little lecture about it when you get home. The smile on Zhongli’s face will indicate that he’s not really mad and that he doesn’t really mind it all that much

Kaeya

Kaeya likes to either greet you with a kiss on the lips, or if your otherwise indisposed he’ll give you a light kiss on your shoulder. Feeling his lips meet your shoulder as a greeting always makes you grin and kiss the Captain on his head

“Hello love” you’ll greet

“How are you doing beautiful?” he flirts

“I’m doing great, you?” you smile

Kaeya is often a man of talk. As much as he likes to give everyone the idea that he’ll make out with you at the bar he often doesn’t. Preferring to opt to that kind of PDA in the home

Much like Venti, Kaeya hasn’t taken very many long term lovers in his life. And seeing the attitude Kaeya has towards chaste touches and kisses change the longer you are together is beautiful

The two of you enjoy lounging about with Kaeya’s face buried in your chest. You’re reminded every so often that he’s still awake by the occasional kiss on your chest. You remember this position being the first time he told you about his past

You’ll often deliver lunch to Kaeya, especially on days he’s over flown with work. He’ll give you a nice kiss and a thank you for lunch as the two of you will eat

Kaeya’s lips are always glossed up with his lip gloss. And more often than not before the two of you have a makeout session he’ll apply some lipgloss, and the two of you often have to wipe it off your faces with a fit of laughs

The liploss obviously has a little glitter in it for the extra shine

If you enjoy initiating kisses Kaeya will just swoon. As much as he loves taking control and kissing you out the blue, if you give him the same surprise he just loves it

If you don't initiate kisses? That’s okay too! Kaeya gives you enough kisses for the two of you

[adorerdraco]

Healing Heart ✧ Draco x Reader Mini-Series PART 2

PART 1

Summary: PART 2  ! of Draco falling in love with reader during his sixth year (HBP) and dealing with the consequences of opening his heart to someone. 

Warnings: angst !!! but just a little fluff as always, BLOOD, violence, more crying, very detailed sectumsempra scene, mentions of death

Words: 4.9K

A/N: omg i can’t believe so many people liked the first one and to everyone who left me a comment, I appreciate you so much you have no idea plsss you guys are so beautiful. but here is part 2 and I hope you guys like it as much as the first oneee !!!!!!!! this one got dramatic. I’m thinking of doing a part 3, but I’m not sure and i also want to make it be mostly fluff so PLS let me knowww <3 i do not own gif. 

It was an awful feeling; the feeling of needing a specific someone to bring him a peace he so very much lacked in his life. It was a feeling of not being able to feel joy unless he had you by his side. He felt stupid and pathetic knowing he had made an even bigger mess of himself and regrettably of you. He felt more weak too, wondering to himself why he couldn’t stop crying and do what he needs to do without several potions or you with him to get him through the day. 

He didn’t want to need anyone. He didn’t want to need help. He didn’t want to need advice.

“Why can’t I just do this?” he cried to himself one night in the room of requirement, kicking something by his foot across the floor in frustration. He stared at the dead bird in hopelessness, not wanting to move it from its spot in the vanishing cabinet. He had managed to send inanimate objects, but not living things and that was only a discovery he was able to make when you were still in his life.

It had been weeks, since he left you under the tree, broken and in tears. He regressed back into to his old ways of lacking proper self care, of sleeping and eating, his studies being the last thing on his mind, him distancing himself from his Slytherin friends again. It was right back to square one, maybe even below that this time.

In Potions, he didn’t dare look at you, ever. He moved to a seat in the very back of the class where he would be hidden from you and could sulk to himself in peace.

“Mr. Malfoy, forgive me as it is none of my business, but why are you no longer working with Miss Y/L/N?” Slughorn asked him one day as he came by to grade his potion.

“It is nothing of concern, Professor,” Draco answered bitterly, holding back the scowl that wanted to show but deciding against being any more rude to authority. “I just rather work by myself.”

“It’s a shame, Mr. Malfoy, you both were my star pupils,” Slughorn mixes the potion around, eyeing it with a frown. “Now the both of you are falling behind. This potion is not passing, you forgot to mix in the dried periwinkle leaves.”

Draco never noticed how you would glance at him throughout Potions class. Of course, he was ignoring you and you felt that nasty realization every time your eyes landed on the platinum blond.

You felt numb, to say the least. You cried for days and days on end. If you weren’t in class, you were in your dorm, wrapped underneath the covers wondering why someone you shared so much love and time with had dropped you with no explanation. You tried endlessly to get him to talk to you, cornering him in the corridors, going up to him in class, but he would ignore you until you went away. He never once met your eyes, and your heart broke more every time you saw the coldness in his icy gray’s that made you feel like you didn’t even exist to him.

Your roommates and friends had gotten involved, forcing you to take better care of yourself. Staying up and hugging you while you cried. Bringing you meals from the Great Hall into the dorm. Brushing your hair when it started to become matted. Encouraging you to divulge yourself in studies rather than your sadness.

“Y/N, you are so much more than what you’re feeling,” your closest friend whispered to you one night as you cried in her embrace. “You can’t keep going like this. It’s okay to cry and be sad, but this is eating you up. Remember how strong you are. Remember the healer you are trying to be. You’ve helped so many people, inside and out, let your friends help you now.”

You nodded sadly, and finally accepted the help your friends had been trying so desperately to give you. You allowed them to take you out into the Great Hall again for meals. To Hogsmead for a fun day out. To the courtyard where you guys would sit and just talk. It was nice, feeling your old and normal life coming to light again even if it was just for a couple hours. But when you couldn’t sleep at night and your mind wandered off to Draco, you felt that same empty feeling of a gaping hole in your heart sting at you. 

There was nothing you could do or say anymore. The cornering him was getting desperate and made you feel weak. The ignoring was never going to stop. You didn’t cry anymore, forcing yourself to bottle up your feelings for him deep down into your mind, body and spirit to the point where you just tried your best to recognize him as a dream. 

Your brain didn’t know any better, right?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Draco sat on the floor of his dorm, head resting against the side of his bed as he twiddled with the letter from his mother between his fingertips. His owl, Aquila, sat beside him and enjoyed the loving pets he was giving her with his other hand. It was rare she let him do this, but he figured it was because she felt that he might have possibly needed this. She nibbled on a crumb of a biscuit he gave her that she had brought with her on her journey from home. Draco sighed and opened the letter again, his eyes scanning over the perfect cursive of his mother’s handwriting once more.

My Dearest Draco,

          How are you, my love? I feel as though we have gone too long without writing to each other. I must say, the Manor feels lonely without you and your father here, but the house elves have been keeping me company. They are quite entertaining, some of them. I do hope you enjoy the small pastries I sent with Aquila that the elves also send on their behalf. 

I know the pain you are feeling, my son. I know it wears at you and I am deeply sorry that I cannot change it or help you. Please do entrust in Professor Snape, as he is the only one who can help you and understands your circumstances. You cannot get through this alone.

Please also remember that you are just a boy. In these times of turmoil, it is easy to lose yourself in your own despair. You are young, Draco, only 16 years of life and it has already failed you. Please find it in your heart to locate the little several joys in life that keep you going. Despite your situation, It is okay to be that 16 year old boy and revel in those joys for as long as you can before it is too late and they are no longer there. Do not succumb, it is what he wants. 

I will always love you, and I hope to see you soon. 

All my love,

Mother

He felt tears sting at his eyes, clutching the letter to his chest as if his mother had charmed it with the feeling of a hug. It wasn’t, but he swore he could feel it. He felt sad, knowing she was all alone in that house, but suddenly remembered that his aunt was seeking refuge with her at the Malfoy Manor and his mother left it out for the sake of keeping Bellatrix’s location secret. Seeing as she was a maddened Ex/Present Death Eater and escaped prisoner on the run. The thought of Bellatrix left a bitter and foul taste in his mouth, making him feel even worse that his mother was stuck at home with that beast who was nearly as bad as the Dark Lord himself. He didn’t care that that was her sister, his aunt, she had no empathy for anything, especially not for him. He recalls her telling him right before he went to school, that he should be grateful and honored for being entrusted with a task so important.

As much as Draco wanted nothing to do with his tasks, he didn’t ignore them. He begrudgingly let Bellatrix teach him Occlumency, something he desperately needed to learn and was now a little good at. He had even tried convincing himself that he needed to do this. It was all up to him. He was chosen for this. He hated it, but he was chosen nonetheless. And he would try with everything to save his family and to make them proud, even if it killed him.

He ignored the thoughts of his aunt and his dreadful life options, refocusing on the words his mother wrote to him. They echoed in his mind, imagining her saying them to him. 

“It is okay to be that 16 year old boy and revel in those joys for as long as you can before it is too late and they are no longer there.”

His mind wandered to you, knowing full and well you were are the one and only joy in his life he so deeply desires. His mother’s words hit him hard, to the point where he almost ran out of his room to go look for you. Almost.

But he was stubborn and still couldn’t pull himself out of the mindset he had boxed himself in where he thought being with you would be worse in the end for you than not being with you. 

So he went over to his desk, Aquila following him before flying up to the wooden surface where she perched herself in front of him as he sat down and pulled out a parchment and quill to begin his responding letter for his mother. He thanked her for the pastries, told her he would try his best in confiding in Snape, loosely promised he would fulfill her wishes of him finding some happiness, and gave her his love. He gave the letter to Aquila, smoothing the feathers on the top of her head one last time before she chirped and flew to the window and then out of his room and into the open dark starry sky. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

More weeks had gone by. And then a month. You were seeing less and less of Draco and for a healing heart, it was the best thing for you, but also the worst. He had even began skipping class as much as he could, not that anyone ever noticed, except you and Slughorn of course.

“Miss Y/L/N, may I have a word?” Slughorn came up to you while you were working on a potion with your friend. The same friend who had given up her seat to Draco who she now despised and regretted ever doing in the first place. She gave you and the professor a look before getting up and heading to the front of the class where she began to pick up vials and jars to store the potion.

“Of course, Professor,” you answer with a polite smile.

“I spoke to Mr. Malfoy about a month ago, he seemed rather distraught,” he began, placing a finger over his chin in thought. “I’m beginning to grow worried of the boy! Is there a reason he’s no longer showing up to class?”

You swallowed thickly before responding, “your guess is as good as mine, Professor.”

“Ah, well, one mustn’t pry too much,” he says. “Also, I’m pleased to see your marks improving in the last couple weeks. Keep up the good work, Miss Y/L/N.”

And with that the professor turned around and left to go check on other students, your friend returning.

“What’d he want?” She asked, setting the supplies down on the table.

“Wanted to know about, Mr. Malfoy,” you mocked quietly, your voice turning bitter when the name left your lips. 

You knew Draco’s disappearance was your fault and you felt that twang of hurt beat against your chest thinking about it. That whole conversation with the Professor killed your entire mood. It wasn’t great to begin with, but the feeling of nothing had turned into hurt. 

You were roughly stirring the cauldron, preparing to put the nearly finished potion into the two large jars so it could sit overnight. They were right beside your arm and you felt your elbow collide with the glasses, cringing internally when you heard them crash onto the ground and shatter. Luckily there was nothing in them, but you had still made a mess of glass. In your heat of embarrassment and with the people are you now staring at you, you forgot you could easily clean up your mess with magic so like a klutz, you instead bent down to pick up the shards of glass that scattered the floor with your bare hands.

A loud gasp left your mouth as you began to pick them up, feeling the largest piece of glass in your palm deeply slash the skin of your hand. You dropped it, feeling the blood begin to drip down your arms and onto the floor.

“Oh no, Y/N,” your friend sighed from above you, gripping onto your other arm and lifting you up. “Are you okay?”

The question was meant for your hand, but you felt it hit your soul just as it did whenever someone asked you that question when you were so overwhelmingly not okay. You shook your head no, the pain from your hand and your heart taking over you completely as tears began to trickle down your face. 

Slughorn came up to the table, waving his wand over the mess of the floor and fixed the damage done to the vases and making the small puddle of blood disappear.

“Class is dismissed, students, you are free to go to the Great Hall for lunch,” Slughorn announced and everyone quickly packed up their things and hurried out except for you and your friend. The full-bellied Professor watched you with concern and you turned to your friend where she took your hand in hers and placed it palm up for you.

You shuddered, bringing up your wand to the cut and simply thought your healing spell before watching it completely fade into a faint light pink scar.

“I’m going to explain to Slughorn what happened and put away our stuff,” she says to you, a sad glint in her eyes. “Go clean yourself up and I’ll meet you at our table for lunch with everyone when you’re done.”

You could only pathetically nod before you slung your bag over your shoulder and trudged off into the direction of a bathroom. You decided to go up to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, wanting to be alone from everyone so you could clean yourself up in peace and also have a meltdown. You didn’t know why you wanted to torture yourself with the ghosted memories you shared with Draco in that bathroom, but you still went. 

You took your time getting there and you were only down the hall when you saw the entrance. It was then when you heard a familiar ghastly screaming and wailing. It was horribly loud.

“MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER!”

Moaning Myrtle floated from the large wooden double doors, screaming so loud it ricocheted off all the walls of the now deathly silent castle. You felt all the blood drain from your face as an awful and sickening feeling had bubbled in your stomach.

“It better not be Draco,” you said to yourself, your legs taking longer strides towards the bathroom. “Please, don’t let it be Draco.”

By now, you were sprinting towards the end of the corridor, throwing your bag to the floor as soon as you reached the doors and flung yourself through and into the destroyed bathroom, stepping into a pool of water that had streaks of crimson red. Your eyes followed the trail of blood, stopping suddenly when you found the source.

A blood-curdling scream twice as loud and stronger than Myrtle’s, left your throat as you tripped over your own feet to reach him. You saw Harry Potter, standing a little ways by the door, a panicked and pained look in his eyes as he tried to understand what he had just done. 

Once you reached Draco’s nearly lifeless body covered in angry red gashes, you fell next to him, his eyes finally meeting yours for the first time in ages. He was breathing raggedly in choked grunts, clutching at his mauled chest as he struggled to breath. The stormy eyes you loved so much were clouded in fear. Nothing but fear.

You shoved your hand into your pocket, searching for your wand and pulled it out hastily. You shakily waved it over his cuts, thinking and saying any spell you knew that came to your mind in the matter of 5 seconds. This was what you did. This was all you did. Why couldn’t you heal him? None of your spells worked.

“I, I can’t heal you,” you sobbed, resorting to putting your hands over his chest at a failing attempt to stop the bleeding. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“n...o,” Draco said weakly and quietly. He mustered up all his remaining strength and placed a bloodied hand over yours, you grabbed it tightly and leaned over him when you realized he was trying to speak. “S-sorry. lo...ve. y...ou.”

It felt like there was a knife in your chest being repeatedly stabbed into your heart and twisted. His eyes closed and you cried harder, knowing you were going to lose him. Everything was happening so fast. You had only been in the bathroom a solid 10 seconds, everything around you moving in a slow blur but so quickly.

It was as if Merlin had answered your pleas, the sound of the door slammed open and a maddened looking Snape rushed inside, pushing Harry roughly to the side and looking down at Draco and then you only momentarily before dropping to his knees beside him and opposite of you.

“Vulnera sanentur,” he began running his wand over the cuts on Draco’s chest and you watched with wide teary eyes as the blood pooling around you began to retreat back into the wounds. He said it again, and once the blood was back in, the cuts began to close. He chanted it one last time, and the cuts had healed into thick and reddened scars. “Miss Y/L/N, please help Draco over to the hospital wing for some dittany, and quickly please. We might be able to help with the scarring, perhaps avoid it completely. I need to deal with, Potter.”

Draco was half conscious, a dazed and confused look in the gray of his eyes as they fluttered open and closed. You noticed the scar beginning to form on his paled face and you bit back a sob. You knew if that scar stayed there, it would only drive him into a deeper hatred for himself.

You quickly got up, Snape picking up Draco and throwing his arm over your shoulders so that you would be able to help him over to the hospital wing which luckily happened to be a hall away from the bathroom. The adrenaline and sheer love for the boy was pumping through your body which had made you feel stronger in basically carrying Draco through the halls. He was dragging his feet, mumbling incoherently and you couldn’t stop crying.

You saw the doors to the hospital wing open, Madam Pomfrey staring at the scene heading towards her in horror. 

“DITTANY!” you called to her. She threw open the doors wider, nodding before she ran back inside in a hurry. A passing seventh year Hufflepuff had dropped all of his books and his bag and linked arms with Draco’s free side, helping you take him inside with much more ease. Madam Pomfrey yelled to rest Draco on the nearest bed and she quickly returned with the dittany, shooing the both of you away from him.

“I’m afraid the two of you are going to have to leave, immediately,” she demands, her hand reaching up to grab the privacy curtain before shielding her and the love of your life from you and the prying eyes of shocked students gathered at the doorway to see what had happened. The Hufflepuff that had helped was already out the door, but you couldn’t bring your legs to move.

“Away from the door!” McGonagall suddenly appeared from behind the crowd of students, a disgruntled look etched into her aged skin. “Return to your house’s common rooms! That goes for you too, Miss Y/L/N.”

She gently placed both her hands on either of your shoulders, guiding you outside the door and out of the hospital wing. She gave you an empathetic glance before grabbing the handles of the doors and shutting them with a loud clang.

The lingering students stared at you in discomfort and grimaces. You looked around, still in a daze and then looked down at your body. You were drenched in blood and water, looking straight out of a horror movie and closely resembling the clothing of the Bloody Baron, Slytherin’s house ghost.

Everything still felt quiet and slow. You didn’t even notice your friends rushing towards you in hysterics, throwing you in hugs as you only stood there, unable to react. You let them pull you away, leading you to your house’s common room, tripping every now and then. You caught a glimpse of Moaning Myrtle in the distance, her cries still very loud and apparent. She had gone around the entirety of Hogwarts wailing the same news that had broken you, only this time you heard the new choice words she had added along the way.

“MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER! HARRY POTTER HAS MURDERED DRACO MALFOY!”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You sat immobile on the edge of your seat besides Draco’s hospital bed. Much to your surprise, Madam Pomfrey had allowed you to stay overnight with the fallen Slytherin Prince. You recognized it might be her way of paying you back from all your countless volunteering and because of that, she trusted you in knowing exactly what to do when it came to the medical field of the wizarding world.

It was around three in the morning, the incident having happened well past twelve hours ago. You were showered now and in a fresh pair of robes, your pajamas holding in your warmth as a cold draft flowed throughout the dark dimly lit room. The hospital wing was tall and large, it felt like a castle in itself, and it only made you feel more feeble. You scooted your chair closer to the bed, placing a hand onto the mattress right next to Draco’s paled slender hand.

Fingertips ghosted over his knuckles, your body shivering at the closeness of the near contact. You didn’t know how he was going to react when he woke up. It was all a waiting game, and your heart squeezed with anxiety as you awaited his regained consciousness. You didn’t forget the words he said to you right before he slipped away. They rang and rattled in your head like a pinball game on loop.

He had told you he loved you.

The thought of him dying and you never being able to tell him you felt the same haunted you. You thanked Merlin that Snape got there when he did. You also made a mental note to hex Harry into the oblivion the next time you got a chance. 

You sighed deeply, your voice quavering as your ran a hand through your tangled hair. His face glistened under the orange lamp on the bedside table, his skin tinged with a grayish undertone and his eye bags deep and dark. The scar you had seen on his face earlier was gone, the skin now just holding a skinny reddened line going across his features as if he was just hit with something. You smiled slightly, knowing it would be gone in the morning and feeling grateful for him that he wouldn’t be scarred with it.

His body was covered in a hospital gown and bandages infused with dittany, but seeing how bad his cuts were before they healed, you knew those would leave something behind no matter what. In your studying towards becoming a Healer, you read about the effects of dark magic and the marks it left behind on its victims. You didn’t know what spell had done what it did to Draco, but it was violent and radiated with darkness. 

The softness of his his skin was met under yours, your hand finally allowing itself to fall over his and you let out a sharp exhale at the touch. It wasn’t like earlier when you were holding onto him for dear life, rough and filled with fear and pain, this time it felt familiar. It felt warm despite the coldness of your skin and his. You shook quietly, another set of tears rippling through your body as you tried your best to not wake him. You sat up and slowly leaned over him, looking down at him to observe his peaceful features. He slept soundly and peacefully, his breathing even and quiet. Even though he almost died earlier today, he looked as though he was having the best sleep of his life. The sleep he gravely needed but seemed to never be able to get. 

Your free hand softly rested on his cheek now and you carefully moved your lips towards his forehead where you placed a long kiss. A stray tear had fallen onto his skin as you pulled away and you frowned, wiping it away with your sleeve before moving your hand up towards his hair. You smoothed it back, the soft blond strands feeling like silk between your fingers. He was a dream, an angel to you. You stood by what you had told him that unfortunate day under the tree, he was good, and you would tell him again and again until he believed it himself.

Just as you pulled back from him, a sharp gasp erupted and he shot up in bed, grabbing and tearing at his gown as breathless quick pants fell from his lips. 

“Hey, Draco, I’m here, you’re okay, relax,” you coo gently, grabbing his hands and holding them tightly in yours so he wouldn’t tear his bandages. Your heart battered against your chest, the waterworks in your eyes beginning all over again. He stared at you, searching your eyes and he began to cry too. The same broken and deep sobbing from months ago you had grown accustomed to hearing. 

He threw himself onto you, crying even harder as his arms wrapped around you, his hand on the back of your head pressing you into his chest. You climbed into the bed in deep shaky breaths so that you were now sitting on your knees between his legs. It was overwhelming, to put it lightly, both of you crying into each other as you remembered the fall out, the lonely days and nights, the wasted opportunities, the endless missing of one another’s presence in their lives.

“I’m sorry,” Draco chokes out. “I never meant to hurt you. I thought that by pushing you away, you would be safer, but I can’t do it anymore. I need you, I love you, Y/N.”

You cradled him in your arms, rocking the two of you back and forth, and you shook your head reverently.

“I forgave you the second I thought I was going to lose you,” you respond quickly. “Merlin, Draco, you scared me to death. I thought you were gone.”

The same words from his mother echoed in his head again and he finally understood what they meant. 

“It is okay to be that 16 year old boy and revel in those joys for as long as you can before it is too late and they are no longer there.”

Darkness was going to arrive one way or another, it was going to steal the rest of whatever life he had left in him one day. It was out of his hands, out of his control. The time to live his life was now. Because he didn’t know when he would ever have this opportunity of love again, of safety, of light. Everything was undefined and unknown and he felt the anguishing regret of all his decisions when he had seen you in the bathroom hovering over him with a hopeless look in your eyes. He promised himself, to Merlin and to the sun, the moon and all the stars that in the 1% chance that he survived that close call with death, he would never abandon you again. His heart pained at the memory of him trying to sputter out his final ‘I love you,’ not knowing whether or not you heard it or if you understood how genuinely he had meant it.

The room was only filled with sniffles and shaky breathing, both of you still in the same rocking position, afraid that if you let each other go, the other is going to disappear.

“Draco,” you say, lifting his head up from the crook of your neck so that he could look you in the eyes. “I love you, too. More than you’ll ever know. Please don’t ever, ever leave again.”

“Not in a million years, darling.”

PART 3

[theodora3022]

Selfish Deeds (Yandere! Gojou Satoru)

Summary: Satoru just wants you to be free of danger. If you are so knowledgeable why can’t you understand that he only wish the best for you?

A/N: This is just one snippet of many out of a collection(haven't decide the name just yet)...Since I have not read the manga(anime-only for now) so I just got a vague impression of what Gojou has been through, but that does not stop me from writing him like the cocky bastard he is. Hopefully it is not too OOC(as if yandere variant itself is not OOC enough pfttt) The reader is a stubborn psycho because that is what I am :) Will there be some future pieces that involves nsfw elements? I got a few ideas but no promises.

I blame @popi-the-fatui for my Gojou brainrots. You got your revenge on me by making me attracted to this dubious man. Word count: 1.6k

Banner credit

Warnings: Female pronouns, Possessive behaviour, DELUSIONAL behaviour, non-consensual touching, power inbalance, general yandere content, slight mention of confinement and violence(This is not a healthy relationship dynamic!!!), reader is not a soft UWU girl, kthis is so self indulgent *buries myself into the bottomless pit of shame

It has been nearly fifteen minutes since the headquarter disconnected the call, yet you are still staring at your phone screen with disbelief.

You were supposed to travel to another city for a mission tomorrow, they had notified you of this mission a week ago.

You already got your luggage packed, and your theoretical research on the objective is thoroughly done. Then they dare to inform you: they have found a more suitable candidate! Right on the day before your departure too.

Your curse techniques have already limited you to more of a supporting role for most situations. There are not plenty of missions available for you to begin with. While you are content with educating the fresh blood of the community in classrooms the majority of the time, you still long for field actions every once in a while. It is an essential part of being a Jujutsu sorcerer after all.

Both you and the soft-spoken secretary who made the call know this is nonsense. The higher-ups recognize that you are one of, if not the best sorcerers available when it comes to reconnaissance and espionage.

Letting out a sigh of immeasurable frustration, you swore to yourself that you will find out who is the conductor of this humiliating turn of events. This is going to be difficult since you do not recall having any issues with any of the administration staff recently.

There is no reversing this misfortune, but at least you can be aware of who is responsible for such violation of conduct.

He is only doing this to protect you.

Gojou Satoru tells himself as such, at least.

He is aware of how unfair it is, to make someone less capable to take on the job. But he cannot risk your safety. The man has already got used to your company, and he is not willing to just let you disappear from his field of view for more than a week. Sure, you might have not admitted how much you like him yet, but it is just too endearing to see you flustered at his flirtatious words.

Although there have been some difficulties with rescheduling, he managed to use his connections to exclude you from that first-grade mission at last minute. On the bright side, the sorcerer cannot wait to lend you an ear to vent about how conservative and unfair the higher-ups can be. Maybe you will even say yes to a trip to the newest local bakery! You need some sweet treats to cheer yourself up, don’t you?

But Satoru has never thought about how you specialize in putting two and two together. (understandable since he never saw you in action before).

------------------

Strange, you are not near the usual area in the library.

Sensing his footsteps, you opened your office door before Satoru had a chance to knock.

“We need to talk, Gojou-san.” That expression is new. This is the first time he sees you genuinely angry, which is to be expected.

But somehow he got a bad feeling about this.

You did not even invite him to sit down, instead just standing next to the floor window, arm crossed, with your back turned to him.

“Why would you do such a thing?” You have to use up all of your self-control to prevent yourself from having a full blow-up right at Gojou Satoru. Maintain composure. But it is easier said then done.

Does he think this is funny? To sabotage someone else's sorcerer career like this? You knew you should have kept him out of your daily life, as he is nothing but trouble to you. But you made the mistake of choosing to tolerate him, and some superficial part of you might even enjoy his dallying words a bit too much.

To the extent, you overlooked some red flags. This is a grievous error indeed.

Shit, now that he vaguely remembers what role you play on missions.“(y/n)-chan, what are you saying-” He knows you always act in supporting positions, however, he has overlooked your actual abilities and curse techniques. You collect intel and spy on enemies, how could he forget that? “Don’t play dumb with me. You got your ways, I got mine. There is no use denying what you have done. I thought you out of all people would understand what it means to be a sorcerer.”

This is a violation of protocol, changing mission assignments at the last minute. However, you know this man would not be receiving any solid punishment should you decide to report this. They would say there is “no harm done” and you would just receive a pitiful apology. Suppose you cannot blame them though.

They need Gojou Satoru, the Jujutsu community needs his prowess to keep innocent people safe. He will remain in the system no matter what.

Why are you questioning his motives? Does he have to spell it out for you? Letter by letter?

“You are not a skilled combatant, (y/n)-chan. What if you got yourself hurt?” Or even worse, killed. It scares him to think that you could be gone one day, how he would walk by this office corridor and never sees you sitting behind the desk ever again.

Not much in this world could send Gojou Satoru a chill down his spine, yet the thought of you dying is now on the list. He knows how petty this is, you wouldn’t be the one doing the actual exorcising after all. But the if, the slight possibilty.

He cannot allow that to happen, not ever. Even that means angering you and getting yelled at.

“What am I, some normal lawful citizen? I am a sorcerer just like you, Gojou-san. Putting ourselves on the line for innocents is part of the deal.” You let out a few short, sarcastic giggles, narrowing your eyes at him with fury. “It’s funny that you, out of all people, fail to understand that. If I am needed I will do what I must. If this is some sort of sick joke, stop it already, not funny. ”

Blunt, unrelenting stubbornness. Not like that’s news for him, Satoru has lots of experience with that since the day your path crossed. Although he finds this quality to be adorable most of the time, it can pose major problems like the present.

Oh, he is not angry at you. Satoru is more outraged at himself, don’t you worry. On the contrary, he is rather intrigued by your sarcastic remarks! However…

Instead of walking towards where you stood near the window, the man decides to take a turn towards the door.

That flashing panic within your eyes did not escape his sight.

The illusion figure you were projecting near the window dissipated instantly once he got your left wrist in his hand. Concealing yourself and projecting illusions, a rare techique indeed.

“Clever tactic. Making yourself invisible, projecting a faux illusion to distract me, leaving the door open and staying close to the exit. Your curse techniques are impressive. I almost got fooled, job well-done (y/n)-chan.”

The grip on your wrist suddenly tightens, you have to bite your lip to hold back a hiss of pain. How can he still flash that casual, playful smile when committing such atrocity? Those damned cerulean blue eyes too, you are ashamed of how you tremble and (internally) swoon at it at the same time.

Efforts to get away would most likely be futile, but you have to try. “See, you underestimated your opponent. I do see why you are good with lurking in the shadows now. Do you have any idea what I am capable of though?” Such delicate hands, it would be a shame if they were to bruise.

It’s unnerving how easy it looks for him to maintain a solid grip on your wrist while you pull back with all of your might. You know Gojou Satoru is strong and all, but this simple demonstration of strength is devastatingly effective. “Let go of me, you bastard!”

To your surprise, he softens his grip and you finally distanced yourself from him, panting and guarded. “Who are you to decide what I should and what I should not do? I made it crystal clear on the first day that I do not like you for the slightest.”

You know the walls are thin and coworkers might heard you, but you will have to worry about it later. It is, sadly, a matter of fact that you are somehow attracted to him, but that does not give him the right to use it against you. You must not give in to the temptation.

“You are pretty slow on the uptake for someone so smart. I was thinking of doing this naturally, we can go on normal dates to coffee shops, amusement parks, or even the museum if that is what you wish for. But now I see you do not know how much you mean to me.” Do you think Gojou-san is only flirting with you for the fun of it? It might have been the case in the beginning, but that is not the case since...recently.

He did not stop you again when you turned away, giving him one last menacing look and disappeared from his sight, even if he could see the faint trace of your curse energy. You will return to him and apologize after you calm down, he is confident about that. You value your job way too much to quit.

Then he could finally pull you into his arms, saying he does not mind and forgive your childish tantrums. Satoru does not plan to lock you up in a cage or anything(yet)! The students adore you and they need your guidance. Your clan is insignificant compared to his, your influence? Does he even need to consider that?

Gojou Satoru would always achieve his goals by whatever means possible. You are no exception to this.

[iliveiloveiwrite]

When He Sees Me // Benedict Bridgerton

Request: Hey! I've just finished reading all of your Benedict fanfics and it's like, "let me have more!!!" *-* Could you maybe write something where the reader and Ben meet at Mr Granville's house? Where the reader is lower class and mocks him for with his lord manners, and eventually they get along well and all that? And he falls in love with her but she's just a seamstress and is scared he fetishizing her poverty and the "starving artist" lifestyle... Thanks in advance, love your writing xxx - anon.

A/N: Thank you so so much! This is such a sweet message. Thank you for requesting something from me; I can only hope I have done it justice. This is a really long fic, I know that - it really did get away from me. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy and I hope you are all well!

Title: Waitress - When He Sees Me

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol and nudity, making out, amorous activities,  light voyeurism (very light), class divides, pining, mutual pining, fluff, light angst, humour, Bridgerton family feels. HAPPY ENDING.

Word count: 6.8k (this is so long, I am so sorry)

“Bridgerton!” Henry Granville calls, a large smile spreading across his face as he spies Benedict by the front door. “I was hoping you’d make it.”

“Here I am,” Benedict laughs, spreading his arms wide in evidence.

Granville chuckles, grabbing a glass from a nearby tray and handing it to Benedict who takes a healthy sip immediately. “Come,” Granville gestures, “Let me show you around.”

Benedict follows the man he already classes as a friend. He hums at the appropriate time, eyes dancing around every room he is taken into, taking in the numerous pieces of art and the growing number of people.

Finally, Granville leads him to a room bathed in studious silence. Five people stand in the room; four stand behind easels – the picture of concentration as brushes scratching on canvas is the only sound in the room. The fifth person stands proudly before the back wall; posing elegantly, a lady stands completely naked save for an apple held delicately in the palm of her hand.

“This is Ariadne, our life model for tonight,” Granville introduces, smiling at the model without an ounce of care that she stands naked in his living room.

“Ariadne,” Benedict nods, doing his best to look anywhere but her naked body. He wasn’t usually this awkward around women, but the last thing he expected tonight was a life model. His usual influences for art came from clothed members of the public.

Granville takes a seat at an easel, studying Ariadne with great care before picking up a thin brush. As he runs it through the nearby oil paint, he calls to Benedict, “Join us!”

Benedict shakes his head, heading towards the door. Granville nods understandingly; it was a lot for a person’s first time at a soiree such as this. “Another time perhaps,” Granville says as Benedict leaves the room.

Closing the door, Benedict leaves the artists to their muse. His fingers twitch for his sketchpad, thinking of the images he could create; he had seen the empty seat in front of a spare easel, but he couldn’t bring himself to sit down and create the art he saw in his mind. Another time, he thinks to himself.

He turns away from the door where his attention is immediately tethered to a couple across the hallway.

The couple are in the middle of an embrace; connected at the mouth with hands beginning to wander clothing. The stays to the lady’s dress are loosened, the relieved gasp quickly swallowed by her partner’s mouth. Hands continue to wander; moans swallowed by joint mouths. It’s a sight to behold even as the position is changed; the woman straddling her partner, beginning to move her hips to the rhythm of music only they must be able to hear.

Unable to tear his stare away from the couple, Benedict feels his mouth drop open at the impropriety before him.

“Come now, Mr. Bridgerton,” A feminine voice teases, “Surely you’ve seen worse.”

Benedict bristles; unhappy with the tone of her voice and the accusation lightly punctuating the air. “Not that it is any of your business, but I have seen worse.”

Her eyebrows fly into her hair, clearly not expecting the rebuff. Benedict represses a smile at the expression on her face; his eyes dance around the hallway, not knowing where to look without fear of landing on the amorous couple. Benedict had never been one to shy away from love and lust and where it can lead you, but he had never been witness to such an event. The last thing he needed for himself (and his family) was to be classed as a voyeur.

“Follow me,” She announces, crooking a finger at Benedict before walking away.

Helpless and out of his comfort zone, Benedict follows the nameless lady. His eyes pour over her figure as he walks behind her like a lost puppy; her dress is finely made, the fabric clearly new. Benedict keeps his eyes fixed head, refusing to let his gaze drop any lower as she opens a door, standing to one side to let him enter first.

The room is adequately sized; enough room for a fireplace already blazing, a couch big enough for two and a small table and chairs. It’s comfortable; the room is well lit from the candles around the room and the large fire.

The well-dressed lady follows Benedict into the room, leaving him standing in the centre as she heads towards a drinks cabinet. She grabs two glasses and a decanter of liquid that Benedict cannot decipher. Scotch, whisky, brandy – all three would fare him well at this point.

Wordlessly, she hands Benedict a drink. A knuckle’s length of amber liquid swirls in the glass, lit up by the roaring fire. “You have me at a disadvantage,” Benedict starts, “You know my name, but I do not know yours.”

She smiles; eyes crinkling from the force of it. “You can spy a Bridgerton by the colour of their eyes,” She snorts, shaking her head at the ridiculousness of it, “I’m (Y/N).”

Benedict bows his head; the very picture of gentlemanly politeness. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

If possible, (Y/N)’s smile grows larger, trying her hardest to repress the laughter bubbling inside of her. “This isn’t your usual scene, Mr. Bridgerton.”

Benedict shakes his head. “I’m a friend of Henry’s and call me Benedict please. After being witness to the couple outside, I think we can forgo formalities.”

Laughter escapes her mouth, powerless to help herself. Benedict frowns at her reaction, but (Y/N) waves a hand in apology. “I remembered your face,” She offers in explanation, “You mentioned that you had seen worse, but you still looked so scandalised.”

Benedict huffs, crossing his legs, sipping at his drink before answering. “I didn’t know what to expect from tonight. Henry is an artist! I just never expected that.”

“We’re all artists, Benedict, in one form or another. We’re practically bohemian.”

“Does that happen often?” He asks, nodding towards the door where Benedict holds no doubt that more clothing will have been lost between the enamoured couple.

(Y/N) lifts a single shoulder in a shrug. “More often than not. The intimacy that is required with art combined with the amount of alcohol consumed tends to lead to such things.”

“Have you ever taken part in such things?” Benedict asks before realising the extent and implication of his words. “Forgive me,” He coughs, “I’m not usually so forward. You don’t need to answer.”

“No, I don’t think I do,” (Y/N) answers honestly, amused at the lack of filter from the Bridgerton. “Why don’t I ask the next question?”

“Please do,” Benedict responds, loosening the cravat at his neck, deciding to take it off altogether.

“Tell me,” She begins, eyes on the skin now bare to the room, “Do you prefer paints or pastels?”

“Neither,” Benedict answers, “I prefer graphite or charcoal.”

“Interesting…”

“Is it?”

“It is! But I cannot think of a reason why.”

Benedict snorts, draining the last few amber drops in his glass. Silent for a moment, Benedict hums before asking, “Do you draw?”

“Heavens no,” (Y/N) responds, “I’m a talented seamstress, but landscapes and watercolours are not for me.”

“Then why are you here?” Benedict asks; the words unintentionally sharp. He cringes before offering (Y/N) an apologetic smile.

“My friend invited me,” (Y/N) defends, “You met her earlier.”

“I did?”

(Y/N) nods. “You did. She was the life model you were trying your hardest not to ogle.”

Benedict flushes; heat spreading from his neck to his cheeks – partly fuelled by the alcohol in his system, partly fuelled by the knowledge of being caught out. Benedict clears his throat, unable to hide his embarrassment. “I didn’t think anyone had noticed.”

(Y/N) smiles widely. “They didn’t, but you don’t make it habit to frequent such parties. It was clearly a shock to your system.”

Benedict exhales with a laugh; all the while wishing he had another drink in his hand. “I’m not new to art,” He confesses, “But I am new to this… environment.”

(Y/N) leans forward in her chair; her eyes sparkling in the dim candlelight. A coy smile crosses her lips and Benedict idly wonders what she would taste like as she asks, “And what do you think of this new environment?”

Benedict drags his gaze away from (Y/N)’s mouth to look her in the eyes. Evenings like this are something he could quickly get used to so long as he had her company in the early hours of the morn. A wicked grin spreads across his face as he answers, “With your company, I’m fairly certain that I could come to enjoy this new environment.”

“Only fairly?” (Y/N) murmurs, sipping at her drink before continuing, “I think we’re going to have to turn ‘fairly’ into an absolute.”

Benedict tips his head to one side, wondering whether it would go against societal customs to offer his hand in marriage after only knowing someone for an evening. The thought lingers at the back of Benedict’s mind as he replies, “I have complete and utter faith in your ability to do such a thing.”

(Y/N)’s answering smile has Benedict wondering about marriage for a second time in less than two minutes. What would be the appropriate time to ask someone for their hand? He thinks. A powerful enough thought that Benedict has to look away from her; desperate not to ruin a newly budding friendship.

The clock strikes one; the chimes making (Y/N) jump as they ring through the tension-filled room. A sad sigh leaves her lips as she stands, placing her glass on a nearby table.

“I’m afraid I must go,” She declares, biting her bottom lip, lingering in front of the Bridgerton.

Benedict rises from his seat, his voice close to wobbling as he murmurs, “Must you?”

(Y/N) smiles wistfully. “Not all of us have family money, Benedict. I have two dresses to finish for tomorrow evening and I need to sleep.”

“Will I see you again?” He asks, unable to keep the hope from his voice as his mind spins all sorts of fantasies of their next meeting.

(Y/N) nods; Benedict’s heart soars.

“Thank you for a lovely evening, Benedict Bridgerton. I’m sure I’ll see you soon.”

“The pleasure was all mine,” Benedict replies a second too late. She’s gone and Benedict is left to wondering how many seamstresses there are in London.

-------------

If Benedict was thinking logically, he knew that there wasn’t thousands of modistes and seamstresses across London. He knew that the number was much closer to hundreds, but to him that was still too many. He thinks back over the interactions from that night, examining the conversations, trying to find a hint of whether (Y/N) had given him the address of her shop. The more he cross examines, the less evidence he finds.

At this point in his investigation to her whereabouts, Benedict was no longer thinking logically. He was thinking with his heart – desperate to see her again so soon. He didn’t want to have to wait until another party where she just might show up. No, he wanted to see her in her own environment where Benedict had no doubt she would flourish.

He makes himself wait three days before beginning the task of tracking her down. His first port of call was to Henry Granville, asking whether he knew anything of the lady accompanying the life model. Henry knew of her by face, but not much bar her first name. He leaves Benedict with a word of encouragement and a promise of another party soon; Benedict thanks the man heartily, knowing that Henry had tried his best.

However, it left Benedict in a predicament that meant he had to bring in reinforcements.

“I need your help,” Benedict pleads of his dear sister, Eloise Bridgerton a day after starting his hunt for her.

“Whatever for?”

“I need to find someone… a friend.”

“A friend?” Eloise asks sounding very much as if she didn’t believe a word leaving her elder brother’s mouth.

“Am I not allowed to have friends?” Benedict asks of his sister, exasperated at her curiosity. Eloise raises a single eyebrow, and it isn’t a minute later that Benedict begs of his sister, “Please do not tell mother.”

The laughter that leaves Eloise lasts for the next three streets, her chuckles grating on Benedict’s nerves. “Where did you meet her?” Eloise eventually asks, much calmer now that she had gotten the laughter out of her system.

“At Mr. Granville’s if you must know.”

Eloise doesn’t answer; she casts her gaze across her brother’s face, reading eh expression there and the hopeful look in his eyes. Whoever she was, she had done a number on her brother for him to be this desperate to find her.

“Why not wait for the next party?”

Benedict huffs, “She may not go to the next party, then I would be back at the beginning.”

Eloise falls silent again. She watches her older brother, watches how he fiddles with his fingers – a nervous tic he’s hand since he was a boy apparently, it happened more when he was itching to reach for his sketchpad in an attempt to keep his mind quiet.

“She’s really made an impression on you, hasn’t she?”

Benedict sighs, peering up at his sister as he calms his hands. “Please?” He asks quietly, not daring to voice the beg any louder than it needs to be.

Eloise reaches across the gap between them, covering Benedict’s hands with hers. For a moment, he isn’t the elder brother but a man in need of help. “I’ll help you, Benedict.”

“Thank you,” He replies; the relief in his voice evident as his whole body relaxes.

-----------

The tightness in his chest that has plagued him for the last week lifts as soon as his eyes land on her. She hasn’t seen him yet; too busy with another client gushing about their latest dress. (Y/N) looks flattered as she takes in compliment after compliment and Benedict can see why; she is clearly a talented modiste. If it didn’t raise suspicion on his end, he would suggest his mother come here instead of the seamstress just off Grosvenor Square.

The customer soon departs leaving Benedict and Eloise the sole clients in the shop. (Y/N) brushes down her dress, collecting herself before greeting her newest customers.

She freezes when she finds the tall stature of Benedict Bridgerton in and amongst the countless mannequins of her shop. Plastering on a polite smile, she steps forward, “How may I help you today?”

Benedict remains frozen; his stare solely focused on (Y/N). Eloise steps forward, nudging her brother in the side with her elbow. Eloise smiles at (Y/N). “From my brother’s reaction, we have found who we were looking for.”

“Pardon?”

“I’m in the market for a new dress,” Eloise states, elbowing her brother once more.

“Yes!” Benedict coughs, brought out of his stupor, “Eloise needs a new dress.”

(Y/N) glances between the siblings; the awed expression on Benedict’s face combined with the knowing smile on Eloise’s doesn’t settle her nerves. Instead, it heightens them. (Y/N) turns to Eloise, flashing her a friendly smile. “If you wouldn’t mind, could I borrow your brother?”

Eloise snorts. “You may keep him if that helps.”

(Y/N) laughs, covering her mouth before grabbing Benedict’s hand, leading him to the back of the shop. “What are you doing here?” (Y/N) questions; her eyes wide as she closes the door behind them. This was a conversation to have in private; not one to be had in front of Benedict’s sister.

“Accompanying my sister to buy a new dress for an upcoming ball,” Benedict replies smartly, his tone innocent as he applauds himself for asking Eloise to join him on his mission.

(Y/N) fixes him with a flat look, not believing a single word leaving his lips. Benedict flounders for a second before smiling bashfully at the seamstress. It wasn’t often that Benedict was left speechless, but (Y/N) reduced him to such manners.

After a moment, Benedict sighs, deciding honesty to be the best policy. “I wanted to see you again.”

(Y/N)’s face softens at Benedict’s confession, unable to fend off the growing fondness for the Bridgerton. If she was being honest with herself, (Y/N) hadn’t stopped thinking of the man since leaving Mr. Granville’s party.

Just as quick as the fondness set in, so does the worry on Benedict’s behalf. Gesturing between them both, (Y/N) offers Benedict a sad smile. “Nothing can come of this, Mr. Bridgerton.”

“What do you mean? Call me Benedict, you did the other night.”

“There were no class lines the other night,” She all but cries, “Outside of Mr. Granville’s home, we cannot be friends, Mr. Bridgerton.”

“Benedict,” He emphasises, “To you, I am Benedict. Not ‘Mr. Bridgerton’.”

“Benedict,” She whispers, giving in to the pleading look in those blue eyes of his.

“Why can’t we be friends?” He asks quietly as if scared to voice such a question louder out of fear of the response.

“You’re the son of a Viscount. I am a seamstress. Outside of my making dresses for your female relatives, where do our paths cross socially?”

“I want them to cross,” Benedict protests almost childishly, crossing his arms as if they were the personification of the budding relationship blooming between (Y/N) and himself.

(Y/N) laughs without humour. “Think of the fallout, Benedict. You would lose friends and contacts. I would be reduced to the rumour of a mistress and lose clients.”

Benedict purses his lips; trying to find fault in her argument but he comes up empty. Class lines were so rigidly drawn in current society and Benedict knew that (Y/N) was more than deserving to be thrown to the vicious rumour mill of London ton.

“What about Granville’s parties?” Benedict offers as a solution. “You say we cannot socialise so openly so let’s meet there with every party.”

“You would go to that extent to win my friendship?”

He nods. “I had the most fun the other night than I had in a long time and I have a very strong feeling it was down to you. You say we cannot be friends so openly, so this is the next best thing. Do I feel go about keeping you a secret? Not particularly, but London society can be unforgivably cruel, and I’ll be damned if I see you suffer at the hands of it.”

(Y/N) blinks rapidly, ridding herself of the tears that grew throughout Benedict’s impassioned speech. “Mr. Granville’s it is, then.”

Benedict smiles; relief flooding his system at your words of agreement. Impulsively, he takes your hand, squeezing it once before letting it drop. The very action sets his veins alight with emotions he has not felt in a very long time, but he doesn’t not let them distract him as he whispers, “I’ll send a messenger with the date and time of the next soiree. Will I see you there?”

“You will,” (Y/N) murmurs, “I promise you.”

Benedict flashes her a handsome smile before returning to the front of the shop, knowing full well he has been too long to be acceptable.

Eloise greets him with a superior smile. Crossing her arms, she asks, “Did you find what you were looking for?”

Turning back to face the back of the shop, Benedict smiles to himself. “Yes, I think I have,” He answers, offering Eloise an arm, departing the shop once and for all.

-----------

28th April, 9pm. Mr. Granville’s home. I hope to see you there.

The missive arrives not four days later. (Y/N) reads and rereads the small piece of paper, memorising Benedict’s elegant handwriting. Anticipation curls in her gut making it hard for her to focus on the task at hand; she had three dresses to finish all for next week. If she didn’t focus now, nothing would get done. She would end up wasting the evening by daydreaming of a Bridgerton and their handsome smile.

She hadn’t expected him. He had entered her life so suddenly. After their initial meeting, she hadn’t expected to see him again; had accepted that it was a one-off meeting that Benedict would soon forget, soon taken with the newest fascination in his life if he wasn’t married off by the end of the season.

That didn’t happen. Instead, he had shown up in her shop with his sister in tow. He had begged for a friendship, to see her again. He kept surprising her at every turn, kept startling her when she least expected it.

Yet, she knew she had to be careful. Not only of her heart, but of her reputation. If the two were caught and things misunderstood, it would not be Benedict to suffer. It would be her; she would be reduced to rumours of impropriety, labelled a ‘fallen woman’ whilst Benedict would most likely suffer a harsh word from his mother and a clap on the back from his brothers.

Society, in general, was cruel. London society, however, was punishing when it wanted to be.

--------------

The 28th April rolls around quickly. (Y/N) losing herself in her work, sewing until the late hours of the night and the early hours of the morning to ensure that the gowns are ready and that she is free enough to attend the party.

Stepping out of the carriage, (Y/N) steadies herself for a moment, taking a deep breath to settle the butterflies exciting her. She felt ridiculous, letting herself be this affected by the man after only one meeting. Yet, he had shown up at her shop, after searching for her for however long.

(Y/N) felt in two minds. On one hand, she wanted the friendship of Benedict Bridgerton for the simple fact that he was entertaining. On the other hand, she despised the idea that she may be a project for the man – their opposite places in society becoming a barrier between them.

The atmosphere in Mr. Granville’s house is heady as (Y/N) enters the premises; the party very much in full swing as she sheds her shawl and leaves it on a side table. She smiles at those she recognises, waving quickly at Ariadne who she finds modelling for many artists once more. Ariadne smiles back but doesn’t move; her eye on a particular artist, a female she knew she would be going home with that night.

(Y/N) shakes her head fondly at the antics of her friend; having known Ariadne for years and loved her proclivity for men and women. (Y/N) admired Ariadne’s lack of shame for who she is, who she wants to be. She doesn’t let the law stop of her from loving who she wants to.

Arriving at the door she entered through last time, (Y/N) hesitates, feeling unsure of herself. A small flash of doubt lances through her mind as she reaches for the doorknob; how long was this going to last before Benedict got bored? How long did she have with the man that was no doubt going to change her world?

The very thought haunts her as she enters the room, finding Benedict in the same spot as last time. He stands when he sees (Y/N) standing the doorway; his suit elegantly rumpled as if he had been sat there for some time. His blue eyes sparkle in the dimly lit room; the only light coming from the fire in the grate. His smile brightens as he takes in her appearance.

“You came,” Benedict breathes, his voice relieved as if he was worried that she may not attend the party after all.

“I promised you I would,” (Y/N) replies, taking the offered glass from Benedict. Their fingers brush and (Y/N) tries exceptionally hard to ignore the jolt of electricity that passes between them. Friendship, she snipes to herself, nothing more.

“I know,” He whispers, “But I’m glad all the same.”

Something in (Y/N) melts at the stark honesty of his words; she found herself being knocked off her axis and it was only their third meeting.

“I have to know,” (Y/N) starts, her voice amused as she takes a seat across from the brunette, “How many shops did you go into before finding mine?”

Benedict averts his gaze, distracting himself from answering by taking a long sip of his drink. “Too many,” He eventually answers.

“You don’t know the number?”

“I know the exact number, I could even tell you their names, but I hesitate to tell you.”

“You have to tell me now,” (Y/N) prompts, leaning forward in her chair, resting her elbows on the table. “Please?”

Benedict sighs a war-weary sigh; acting as if (Y/N) had worn him down to his very last nerve. With a light blush dusting his cheeks, Benedict admits, “I visited close to fifteen shops with Eloise before finding yours.”

“Fifteen?!” (Y/N) all but shouts, laughter soon falling from her lips as rain would fall from the sky. The very sound sets Benedict’s heart racing within his chest making him wonder whether it was going to run right out of his chest any moment.

“Eloise was very grateful when we found you. She despises dress shopping.”

“Yet she went to fifteen dress shops with you in order to find me.”

“She’s my favourite sibling, but don’t tell the others.”

“How many do you have? I’ve heard of the famous Bridgerton brood but never focused long enough to find out how many children there were.”

“Eight of us in total,” Benedict laughs at (Y/N)’s gasp, “We’re named alphabetically too. My father used to joke it was so he could keep track of us easier.”

“A wise idea,” (Y/N) murmurs.

“He was a wise man,” Benedict states, thinking of his departed father with a keen sting of grief. It didn’t matter how long his father had been gone, the wound would never heal. He would miss his father until his very last day on this earth; Benedict would spend the rest of his life trying to emulate Edmund Bridgerton’s life lessons.

A pensive silence descends only for a moment before (Y/N) asks, “Why did you look for me?”

The blush returns to Benedict’s cheeks. “Would you believe me if I said I wanted to see you again?” He asks sheepishly. He had prepared himself for such a conversation but having it in real life was no comparison to the fantasy in his head.

“Why did you want to see me again? Why not wait for the next party?”

“I wasn’t sure you would attend the next party,” Benedict reasons, “And I really did want to see you again.”

(Y/N) smiles bashfully, ducking her head as his words wash over her. She fiddles with the stem of the glass in her hand before taking a long sip; the worries from earlier had returned with the conviction behind his words. She had to know; if she didn’t ask him, she would never know and she would never be prepared for the day he would inevitably grow bored and move onto the next project. “Can we be honest with each other for a moment, Benedict?”

“I thought we have been so far.”

(Y/N) smiles despite herself. Schooling her face into a mask of polite interest, she tries to cover the concern and worry steadily rising in her gut. “This isn’t a saviour moment for you is it? Befriending a poorer seamstress, getting to know her before eventually getting bored?”

“I haven’t thought of it as that for one moment.”

“You haven’t?”

“I haven’t, but the fact that you have says more about my character than I care to admit.”

“I didn’t mean to insult you,” She hurries to say, worried about losing the friendship that had only just begun and scared of hurting Benedict’s feelings.

“You haven’t insulted me,” Benedict promises with a small smile.

“I can’t help but worry,” She admits in a small voice.

“I would socialise with you in public, but you made such a sound argument the other week that I couldn’t find fault. You’re right, it could lead to all sorts of trouble, but I want you to know that I do not have a saviour complex. I just enjoy your company.”

(Y/N) relaxes, sagging further into the chair as she lets herself breathe freely since the worrisome thought entered her mind. Now that it was out in the open, she could smile more without worry. “I enjoy your company too,” She confesses, “You’re quite refreshing.”

“Refreshing?” Benedict asks, sounding close to laughter.

(Y/N) rolls her eyes at the older gentleman. “Yes, refreshing. I deal with meddlesome mothers and droll daughters all day. You make me laugh… it’s refreshing.”

“I’m glad I can provide refreshment,” Benedict laughs, his smile wide with his happiness.

Happy smiles are exchanged as the worries leave (Y/N)’s mind. She was wanted here by the man sat across from her; he had no plans to leave any time soon. For now, her mind is settled and as she raises her glass to the Bridgerton across from her, she briefly wonders whether her heart would soon be settled too.

------------

The friendship continues for weeks; neither of them the wiser to their growing feelings for the other. If they are, they remain silent, not wanting to disturb the status quo but rather, pine from a distance.

They continue to meet at Mr. Granville’s, sneaking away to their room where they talk for hours about anything and everything.

At one point, (Y/N) manages to convince Benedict to bring his sketchpad with him where he fills pages with drawings of her. She doesn’t realise it; she doesn’t know that the small sketch of hands holding a champagne flute is Benedict’s study of her.

Time passes and they become attached to the other; saving pieces of information and stories of friends and family for when they finally get to see each other. The time they have together filled with laughter; the class lines that separate them outside Mr. Granville’s home practically invisible as Benedict chokes on his drink at the scandalous nature of (Y/N)’s story, unaware such language could leave such a woman.

It’s easy, it’s natural. It’s all Benedict has to fill his time between the mind-numbing balls and luncheons set up by his mother in order to find him a wife. Little does Violet Bridgerton know that Benedict has found someone he would devote the rest of his life to but whether she would be willing, whether she loves him as wholly as he loves her is another matter entirely.

--------------

He starts to haunt her dreams from their very first meeting. The colour of his eyes combined with the brightness of his smile chased her from sleep much faster than she would have liked.

Sitting up in bed, she rests her chin on her knees, feeling the helplessness that often accompanies the swift descent into love.

In the short time she had spent in Benedict’s company, (Y/N) had to admit that she had fallen head over heels for the brunette. Sighing heavily, she tries to pinpoint the exact moment her feelings turned from platonic to romantic but finds herself unable to do so. At this point, she cannot help but wonder whether she had fallen for him the first instance she saw him. He looked so out of depth in his perfectly pressed clothes; it was adorable.

(Y/N) runs a hand across her face in an attempt to dispel the lingering tiredness but to also ride herself of thoughts of the man who had so readily captured her heart without knowing he had done so.

How could she explain this feeling? Her heart refused to calm in his presence, beating away in her chest as if ready to take flight. Benedict smiled in her direction and her mind ceased to form coherent thought. She didn’t tell anyone how in the darkest hours of the night, she stretched a hand across the empty blankets of her bed, imagining what it would be like to have Benedict lie next to her. Would he snore? Was he an early riser or did he prefer to sleep in?

Such questions would travel the expanse of her mind until the birds began to announce the arrival of a new day. Her mind creating daydreams that left her heart aching in her chest when she came back to earth, reminded harshly of the barriers that divided them.

What scent did he prefer? Did he favour scotch or brandy?

Endlessly she tortured herself with such questions. Spinning fantasies in which she woke up every morning with Benedict by her side. She would wake to find him already watching her, as if in disbelief that she would choose to love a man such as him.

A single tear escapes (Y/N)’s eye as she forces herself back to the present. Eyeing her small rooms, (Y/N) thought that she should be fortunate that a man such as Benedict Bridgerton would give her the honour of his much requested time. It would do her no good to fall in love with him now.

Straightening up and running a hand through her sleep plait, (Y/N) vows to rid herself of her feelings for the second eldest Bridgerton.

However, as the vow is sealed, a small voice in the back of (Y/N)’d mind casts doubt on her ability to do such a thing.

----------------

“Eloise has been asking after you,” Benedict comments; choosing the line of conversation for this section of the evening. At this point, they’ve been at Granville’s home for hours, covering all topics of conversation conceivable. (Y/N) had updated Benedict on Ariadne’s clandestine love affair with a daughter of a prominent member of His Majesty’s Navy to which Benedict spent over an hour trying to guess which officer and which daughter. (Y/N) delighted in announcing his incorrect guesses.

“How is she?” She asks, feeling a distant fondness for the woman who had shown up in her shop so many weeks ago.

“Distracted if I’m being truthful,” Benedict murmurs, “Her hands are always covered in ink. I think she has an admirer.”

“And why shouldn’t she?” (Y/N) demands, crossing her arms. “Eloise is a beautiful young woman. Any man would be lucky to have her.”

“She’s turned down the last three marriage proposals so I’m curious to see what type of man has captured her attention.”

“Siblings and their nosiness,” (Y/N) admonishes though there is no heat behind it.

“I want what’s best for her,” Benedict defends.

“I know you do,” She whispers, fondness for the man sitting across from her surging through her. It leaves her quiet; it leaves her breathless as she fends off the heart racing, stomach turning affection she feels for the second eldest Bridgerton.

Benedict closes his eyes, kicking up his heels and resting them on the table. A happy, content smile crosses his lips as he lets himself enjoy the moment they find themselves in.

I could do this for the rest of myself, (Y/N) thinks to herself, I could sit with him for the rest of my life.

It’s with that thought that (Y/N) knows she has broken the vow she made only a few days ago.

“You’re different tonight… quieter. Is something the matter?” Benedict asks, a note of concern in his voice.

(Y/N) shakes her head, refusing to look the man in the eye. Instead, she focuses her gaze on her glass, swirling the liquid around as if it were the most fascinating thing in the whole world.

Benedict sighs, reaching across the table, taking her glass from her hand and placing it on the table in front of them. He stops himself from covering her hand with his; that is a luxury for couples. As much as Benedict wanted more, he would settle for being her friend.

“You can tell me anything, (Y/N),” Benedict murmurs quietly, breaking her resolve clean in half.

“I broke my vow,” She whispers, voice close to breaking.

“What vow?” Benedict asks, panic beginning to rise internally. “Are you promised to another?”

“Nothing like that,” (Y/N) reassures, “I broke a vow that I made to myself which somehow makes me feel worse. I would rather I broke a promise of marriage.”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

(Y/N) sniffles, wiping a hand under her eyes before laughing humourlessly. “A few nights ago, I made myself a promise and it seems that I am unable to keep such a vow.”

“Would you tell me that vow?”

(Y/N) sighs, seeing no point in lying to him. “I vowed that I would rid myself of my feelings for you.”

“And have you?” Benedict asks warily; he needs to know whether he has a chance to love her the way he wants to. He wants to be her everything; he wants to kiss her goodnight and then kiss her good morning hours later.

She shakes her head; wisps of hair flying loose from her updo. “I don’t think I ever really tried. I don’t think I want to lose my feelings for you.”

“I don’t often make grand declarations, I don’t believe in over the top displays of affection,” Benedict begins; his eyes fixed on her face, on every movement of her lips, “But I love you, (Y/N). I love you and if I need to, I will make a grand declaration, I will shout it from the rooftop of Buckingham Palace.”

“Please don’t do that!” (Y/N) gasps, an amused smile on her face. “I love you too, I love you with everything I am, but aren’t you worried?”

“Worried?”

“Of the fallout? It could never work, Benedict. See sense, please,” She pleads; eyes wide.

“Why wouldn’t it work? We love each other, surely that should be enough.”

“It is enough for me, Benedict,” She reassures quickly, “But it isn’t enough for the rest of society.”

“Why do you care what they think?”

“My entire business relies on such things, Benedict! Whether I earn an income over the season is down to what the ton think.”

“It is so easy to get lost in the wealth, the titles and the balls,” Benedict whispers, “You bring me back down to earth; remind me that I could happily live without the grandeur because I would have the love of the woman I have come to adore.”

The words have her argument crumbling into ash before her. There was no arguing with that; he was prepared to live a simpler life with her.

“You would do that for me? Live a simpler life?” She asks because she has to know; she has to know that she isn’t something he would come to regret in the weeks, months, years that pass. She couldn’t live with herself if he harboured any resentment towards her for his loss of societal ties; the very thought terrified her.

“Darling,” Benedict states, “I would give it all up for you. As long as I have you, I do not need the life in London and everything else that comes with it. We can live in the country; I have a cottage there that I am sure you’re going to love.”

“What about your family?”

“They’ll love your almost as much as I love you.”

“They won’t hate me?” She asks, voice timid as she thinks of the matriarch of the Bridgerton family, knowing she was not a woman to cross.

“They could never.”

(Y/N) begins to nod; slow at first before growing more rapidly with a smile breaking out across her face. “Okay,” She breathes, “I love you, Benedict Bridgerton. I’m not scared anymore.”

Benedict gathers her in his arms, finally getting to hold her after dreaming of such an action for so long. Better than his dreams, he thinks to himself as he glances between her stare and her lips. Silently, she nods, smiling softly as Benedict takes that final leap, pressing their lips together.

(Y/N) sighs against his mouth; a noise he could happily hear for the rest of his life. Her hands grasp the lapels of his jacket, pulling him even closer. She feels like heaven against him as Benedict continues to taste the remnants of her drink on her lips.

Her hands leave his jacket, reaching up to card through his hair. (Y/N) tugs lightly at the dark brown locks, smiling into the kiss at the sound of the low groan in the back of Benedict’s throat. (Y/N) loses herself in the feel of the man against her; all hard lines and muscles, he feels like a Greek god and she a mere mortal getting to experience the heady passion written about in epic poems and plays.

Desperate for air, but not desperate to leave the arms of the man she loves so wholly, (Y/N) breaks the kiss. Panting, Benedict kisses her lightly once, twice, three times before pressing his forehead to hers. A moment of peace before the rush of the future began.

Boundaries, divides, lines really meant little when you had found the one who truly saw you.

****

Bridgerton Taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore​ @dreaming-about-fanfictions​ @janelongxox​ @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown​ @aspiringsloth20​ @wallwriterstuff​ @magicalxdaydream​ @darkestbeforethedawn16​ @gryffindors-weasley​ @spideysz​

[suchalonelysunflower]

Tell Me a Lie (c.h)

Pairing: Calum Hood X Fem!Reader

Requested: Kinda yes!

Summary: Part 2 of Tell Me What You’re Thinking. The aftermath of the dreadful night that left two broken hearts along the way. Could they ever fic it?

Warnings: ANGST. Language, mentions of drugs and alcohol, mentions of cheating. Some grammar mistakes (I’m sorry, English is not my first language)

Word count: 5.8k

Author’s note: Holy! I never thought I would end up writing a part 2 of this, but I’m so glad so many of you requested it and supported it 🥺❤️ thank you so so so much. As you know: Reblogs, Coments, Feedbacks and likes are more than welcomed and encouraged! I’d love to hear from you guys and I can’t wait to see how you react to this and the question: if you were on the readers shoes, would you forgive him? Thank you so much, hope you like it and Happy Reading ✨🦋🌻

Part 1

My materialist // wanna be part of my tag list?

Calum stopped laughing at Mitchy a long time ago, but he didn’t seem to notice. Frankly, he was regretting his decision on inviting the singer today, knowing that he was completely high even before he got to the house.

He secretly envided Ashton who got away a few moments earlier, he couldn’t blame him at all as he wondered what he was doing in his kitchen and if he should go to make him company and leave Mitchy alone in his own world, not that he would notice either way.

But just before he decided to get up and leave, just like he could read his thoughts, Ashton walked into the living room. A feeling of relief washed over Calum as he saw his best friend approach, hoping that he could spare him some actual good conversations, but the drummer seemed too busy as he grabbed his phone from the coffee table and stepped outside to make a call, entering the house a few moments later to grab his jacket and his keys.

“Where are you going Ash?” Calum asked, almost begging him to stay and not leave him alone with Mitchy.

But Ashton didn’t spare a glance at him as he muttered through gritted teeth “I’m leaving”

Calum was confused by his friend's attitude, not knowing what caused his strange behavior. But before he could ask him, Mitchy beat him to it “Aw man! We are just going to the club to meet some hot chicks! You should come with us!”

And that was the last straw Ashton needed to unleash the rage behind his eyes, the same rage he was holding all night as he watched you cry in the kitchen a few minutes ago.

Calum watched as Ashton’s face completely disfigured itself as he started yelling.

“You are both such assholes!” He said, looking between Mitchy and Calum, making the latter one jump in his seat at the sudden outburst “Do you even realize what you did? You just made the most amazing person on this planet feel like shit cause you can’t keep your comments to yourselves!” He looked at Mitchy “You don’t know a single fucking shit about her to talk about her like that. If you knew her you’d know that Y/N is amazing the way she is and you should be ashamed of yourself for disrespecting such an incredible woman like that!” Then he looked at Calum, who looked like he’d just seen a ghost “And you… I’m so disappointed in you. I can’t even look at you right now. You were really going to cheat on her? Are you really that stupid to lose her like that?! To lose her at all?! Do you know how incredibly lucky and incredibly stupid you are?! I am disgusted with both of you. And Y/N doesn’t deserve to cry for such man babies who’d talk about her behind her back”

At the sound of your name, Calum’s world fell at his feet. Did you know what Mitchy and him talked about? That wasn’t what he meant!

“Y-Y/N-“ He said, gripping the edge of his seat. Ashton just looked at him with pity “She heard it all”

That was almost three months ago. Three months since he watched the love of his life walk away from him and leave him alone. Three months since Ashton had said a full sentence to him that wasn’t filled with utter disappointment. Three months since he cut ties with Mitchy, claiming that he never wanted to see the singer again and that he should not try to contact him or any of the boys again. Three months where every night he comes to an empty house, hoping that it was all a bad dream and that he’ll find you in the kitchen studying for your next test or waiting for him with a glass of wine just to talk and share a moment with him. But now you won’t even spare him a glance.

He knew he couldn’t blame you. That is the last thing on his mind when he thinks about that night and all that led to it. More often than not he would find himself turning and tossing on his bed, unable to sleep. The memory of your tear filled eyes and the echoing sound of your voice take over him as he relives that moment over and over again, still unable to find anything in him to make you stay.

If he could change the past, out of all the wrongs he’d done, he will make it right for you. He would tell Mitchy to go fuck himself, kick him out for disrespecting you that way. He would have gone to find you in his room, make you pack your stuff and take you away to that mini holiday you never got live. He would cover you in kisses and beg you not to leave him because he will miss you too much. He would tell you that he loves you more than anything in his life and that he is sorry he couldn’t love you more.

But time cannot be reversed and some hurts might never be healed.

And Calum misses you, Duke misses you. But he knows you are not coming back anytime soon, Ashton made sure to tell him that in one of the last conversations he had with him.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” The drummer said a few days later when he got sick of Calum constantly questioning him about you “And not only because she made me swear not to tell you anything. But because if I start talking about her and how you broke her, I cannot promise you it will end well for you. All I can tell you is that she is safe.”

At least he knew you were with Ashton, you always confided in him as your best friend. But that also meant that Ashton had to take sides and he made it very clear from that night that he was on yours. Luke and Michael stood neutral to the fight, knowing it would only hurt the band even more, but they told Calum that this time he was on his own if he ever tried to take you back.

And, then again, Calum cannot blame them. He knew that if they were in his shoes he’d do the same thing. What he did was horrible, the coward’s way to face things. And there was nothing he regretted more.

He tried to occupy his time with whatever came to mind, he could not stand being alone with his thoughts cause the only thing he did was think of you. So today he decided to go on a run.

It was a horrible thing that it didn’t work, cause after minutes or hours of running through the streets without a clear path, he ended up in front of Ashton’s place.

He knew he shouldn’t do it, that the right thing to do was to give you space. But when he saw the lightest shadow of your figure grace the window, he knew he had to see you, even just one more time. So he knocked on the door and prayed to every god he’d ever known that you would answer.

But nothing could prepare him for when you did.

You don’t remember much about the rest of that night. The night where you jumped in Ashton’s car and fled the house you used to know as home.

You remember Ashton having to carry you to his guest room, or at least you assumed he did it cause you don’t remember walking up the stairs. You remember crying, hanging onto his shirt and asking the universe why? Why didn’t he do anything? Why didn’t he fight for you? Why did you have to love him still?

You begged for Ashton to stay with you, the thought of being alone that night terrified you. But he replied that he was planning on doing it anyway “I’m not leaving you, Y/N” He said, and those were the most comforting words you heard all day until you fell asleep from crying too much.

The next morning you woke up alone and you didn’t know where you were. The sheets were not yours, the wallpaper and the pictures were unknown to you and the smell was unfamiliar. Unconsciously you reached your hand to the other side, finding it empty but still kind of warm and you wondered if Calum had taken Duke out for a walk like he used to do every Saturday morning that he was home.

Only when Ashton came into the room carrying a tray with a warm breakfast on it did you remember the incidents of the night before. Your eyes filled with tears again as you watch him lay the tray in front of you.

“I know you don’t want to hear this,” He said, his voice was comforting at best, but you couldn’t help but hear the pity that came with it “But you need to eat. I know you haven’t been eating anything since at least yesterday's noon”

You looked at the food and shook your head “C’mon babe, for me?” He asked, softly rubbing your shoulder “I know I’m not the best cook but at least I know this is edible” He joked, making you chuckle through the tears that were already spilling from your eyes.

“I don’t know what to do” You honestly tell him.

“Do you want to talk to him?”

“No.” You replied quickly “I don’t want to see him and I don’t want him to see me” Ashton looked at you and it almost seemed like he wanted to say something, but eventually just nodded at your wish “I just- I need to get my other stuff out of the house and-”

“I can let you know when he’s out. That way you won’t have to face him if you don’t want to”

“Thank you, Ash.” You smiled at him gratefully, placing your hand on top of his “I’m going to start looking for a new place soon and-”

“None of that” Ashton said shaking his head “You can stay here! I don’t have a roommate and, I’m sorry, but I don’t like the idea of you being alone” You opened your mouth to say something, but he continued “I promise I will talk to Calum that he is not welcomed here without my, and now your, permission. I won’t let him hurt you again”

That was three months ago and you can honestly say that you are doing just fine by now.

Yes, the first few weeks you spent them in your bed, crying and heartbroken at the thought of losing the love of your life. Calum was everything to you and it seemed like in the blink of an eye that “everything” crumbled right in front of you as you realized just how little you meant to him.

Many nights you tried to fool yourself into thinking that it was all a big misunderstandment. That you somehow misheard every word and it was just your brain creating scenarios that would never become a reality. However, the faintest echo of Calum’s laughter at Mitchy’s comments, his agreeability to go on with his plan, the things he said and the things he didn’t say… they were all still tattooed inside your head.

“A good fuck” That’s what he said. That was the only positive thing he had to say while his friend mocked you and humiliated you like it was nothing. Like if he hadn’t thought those things before.

You decided you wanted nothing to do with him. You blocked his number and deleted his number. You also begged Ashton not to cause anymore scenes between the two of them, knowing how badly it could affect the band if they let their feelings come between them.

A month went by, then two and now three, and not a day goes by that you don’t think of Calum and how he’s doing, if he has a new girl or if he ever got to meet that Vanessa girl. You knew it wasn’t healthy, but you spent so many years loving him that it was impossible to fall out of love for him, even after he hurt you so badly.

Ashton helped a lot. He always tried to cheer you up, even inspiring you to try yoga and meditation to help you clear your thoughts and bring new energy into your life. And, even if you hate to admit it, it worked! In these three months you found out things about yourself that you never thought of before. You realized that all your dreams were for you and Calum, yet none of those dreams were only for you.

Your career, your job… those were your dreams. But soon enough those dreams became shared once you met Calum, pushing them aside from time to time to accompany him on tour, or to help him write a song or two when he got stuck, or even just because he asked you to. You were more than happy to do so, but you did that for him, for the both of you, not for you.

With that in mind, you began to search for yourself, for your needs and wants. You aren’t quite there yet, but it helps you keep your mind busy from the heartache. And, slowly and steady, you began to feel more like yourself again.

Just like right now, you asked Ashton to grab some things from the store once he’s back from the studio, telling him you were going to try to cook some pastries that your mom used to make when you were little. He said he’d be home soon and that’s why you weren’t surprised to hear the knock on your door, knowing that he usually forgets his keys in every set of skinny jeans he owns.

You laughed at yourself, thinking of teasing him about having a set of keys for every pair of jeans he owned. Only this time it wasn’t Ashton who was standing at the other side of the door.

Calum swore his heart could not break anymore until he saw how your smile disappeared from your face when you realized it was him. You were looking good, better than him at least. Your hair was a little bit longer and you still wore socks inside the house. But your eyes… your eyes were different. They didn’t shine anymore with that gleam that got him completely hooked to your gaze, the gleam that was reserved just for him. Now, he could only see himself reflected in those y/e/c eyes and he could see the disappointment behind them.

The first thing that comes into your mind was his beard, he never used to have a beard before, he always kept his face clean and neat but now his scruff was decorating his jawline and you were not sure you liked it. His clothes were a mess too, you realized he came running as you took in the beads of sweat that covered his forehead, but his clothes seemed old and they were not matching. He never really cared about the clothes he’d wear when he was in a rush.

You took your time to meet his eyes, knowing that once you stared at those brown orbs you might just break down. But once you did, it was like you were able to stand taller, to stand up to him as the only feeling you had running through your head was doubt.

“What are you doing here?” You asked. Not a hello, not a welcome, not even his name. Calum knew he deserved none of that.

He flinched at the sound of your voice. The voice that once was sweet as honey, was now cold and hard like steel, just like it sounded before you left.

“Y/N I-” He said, pleading with a string of his voice, trying his hardest not to cry in front of you. Suddenly now he realized just how hard it was to see you again “Can we talk?”

You hesitated and Calum noticed that. He saw how you gripped the doorknob, and he hoped that you let him in despite knowing that he deserves to have that door close on his face.

“Please?”

You knew you couldn't resist him, not only that but something inside you begged for you to let him in, to hear him out. However, you could not help but feel a little bit scared. You weren’t ready to see him, but you have to.

With a sigh, you opened the door. You watched how his shoulders relaxed as he let go of his breath. He was as scared as you were.

Calum walked inside the living room. He hasn’t been here in months, but he can recognize your touch. You were everywhere in this room and he assumed that would be the case for all of the house as well. He recognized a few decorations that once adorned your shared home, you took them all with you when you left. Leaving him with not a single trace of you to hold on to.

You closed the door and followed after him. You found Calum standing in the middle of the room, checking the pictures you brought from his house, you knew he was trying to, even hoping to find himself in one of them, but all of those pictures were tucked away now, leaving all those memories behind.

Calum turned to you once you entered the room. He looked defeated, broken even, and your heart could not stand it. Even after all he put you through, you still care for him and you are sure you will always care for him, even when you don’t want to.

“I cannot start this conversation without saying how sorry I am” He said, hands in his pockets and eyes locked in yours. You could already feel the tears start to come but you held them back.

“Calum-” Calum, not Cal or babe or love. Just Calum.

He closed his eyes for a moment, taking in how the sound of his name now held no comfort for him “I need to say it, Y/N. Please” You nodded and he continued “I am an idiot. A stupid son of a bitch who lost everything before he ever realized what he’d done and I’m sorry, Y/N. I am so terribly sorry and I hope one day you could believe that” You wanted to say that you did, but he beat you to it “And I know that a simple sorry doesn’t fix things… fuck I don’t even know how to begin. I thought I was ready to see you and tell you just how fucked up I am without you but-” He started to choke up, his feelings were overwhelming even for you “When I look at you all I want to do is hold you close and it kills me that I can’t do that”

“I have no excuse, Y/N. No excuse that doesn’t make me sound like an asshole for treating you the way I did. Cause that’s exactly what I am, I am an asshole who lost the best thing that has ever happened to him just because he was too much of a coward to say anything.

But you have to know - you must know that I don’t think of you that way. I never did nor I ever will. Bab-Y/N, you have no idea what you mean to me and I know I’m shit at showing it to you but I swear, I swear none of what he said that night it’s true. What he said… I was so angry at him, I still am, if I’m being honest and that’s why I ended the friendship right there. I tried to convince myself that he was just high out of his head, that he says shitty things when he’s out of his mind and the only way to make him shut up was by following along to what he was saying. And I know it sounds stupid, fuck.. I don’t even know why I did it! At that moment I was just thinking that I didn’t want the night to end in an endless fight with him cause there was no way of shutting him up and now I wish I would’ve just kicked him out the minute your name came out of his mouth. I hate him and I hate myself for the pain I caused you. I know that it would be useless to say that if I knew you were there I would’ve ended it right there. But I know that even doing it behind your back was an act of disrespect and I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve any of that, any of the pain or the tears… I’m still haunted by the memory of you leaving.

What I said that night was true. I had never and would never cheat on you, that’s not who I am and you know it. I wasn’t even going to go to that stupid club and meet the girl he wanted to introduce me. You gotta believe me on that one, I would’ve never forgiven myself if I did it. I can’t even forgive the thought of it or even the simple thought of faking to consider it for Mitchy to shut up… I would have never-”

“I believe you” You say.

Somewhere along his speech your eyes stopped trying to keep the tears at bay and just let them roll down your cheeks and into your shirt. You watched as he paced the room, trying his best to come up with the right words to apologize to you, to make you believe him when in reality you believed in him since the moment he walked through the door. You knew Calum and you know that his heart is always true. But his words did not make anything better.

“I believe you, Calum. I do. I just-” You snuffle “You said you just didn’t want to start a fight… Am I not worth fighting for?”

Calum almost ran to you when he noticed the tears. He always hated to see you cry, but now more than anything knowing that he’s the reason for your sadness.

“Baby, I’d start a war for you.” He said, cupping your face with his hands and delicately wiping your tears with his thumb “I’m sorry it took me so long to realize, but I’d do anything for you, my love. Anything.”

“Then why didn’t you?” You cried, pushing yourself away from him.

Calum’s heart broke once again when you pushed him away. He wanted nothing more than to console you but he knew he didn’t have the right to do so.

“Because I failed to realize that there was a possibility of you not being with me anymore” He said, confidently “When I think of you, I think of forever. I never thought that it will ever come to an end, that you could leave me at any point or that the love will just fade away… I thought about a family together, a life where it will always be you and me. I got too confident that I ended up losing you. I failed you, Y/N. I know I did, and I can’t forgive myself for that”

His eyes were honest as they stared at you. You could feel the burn in your throat as you tried to speak “I thought of a forever with you as well” You said softly.

Calum took a step closer. It was the first time he’d ever let his heart hope for some kind of saving grace, for some kind of forgiveness and a start over “Then, say we can try again. Say that we can get through this and we can fix it, because I want nothing more than to fix this and go back to what we once had, or to start over if you want! I just need you in my life, Y/N. Tell me we’ll be alright”

He knew it was a long shot, but he had to try. He didn’t take the chance to defend her before, but he was sure he was not going to let her go again if there was still a chance of a future together.

“I don’t know if we can”

Every ounce of hope fled through Calum’s hands as he processed what you said. He could feel the earth under his feet start to shake as his world came crumbling down once again.

“Calum, I knew you never cheated on me and I appreciate your honesty.” You said as you wiped out your tears with the back of your hand “But the simple thought of you considering it broke every trust I had in you, even if you weren’t being serious about it, I can’t stop picturing you with some random girl while I waited for you at home every night. And not only that but the words you said that night still haunt me. Mitchy’s comments weren’t as insulting as the fact that you didn’t contradict him in any way. I felt humiliated, Calum. Humiliated by someone I loved in front of someone who you knew didn’t like me and would take any chance he’d get to demonstrate that.

It took me weeks to realize that I didn’t do anything wrong, but I still believed that that was the perception you had of me all this time. How can I come back from that?”

Calum’s eyes were pleading, his expression remaining unmoving from the pain that he caused himself by hurting you. But he was determined to make it right.

“We can!” Calum said, desperately trying to reach for your touch as he grabbed your hand and started kissing it “Baby, no. No, no no no please don’t say that. I love you with all my heart and it kills me to know that I’ve wronged you. I’ll make it up for it, everyday for the rest of my life but, please, at least say we can try. I- I know I don’t deserve it, but please. I can’t live without you”

You pulled your hand away from him, slowly as you watched the tears pour down out of his eyes “I thought I couldn’t live without you either. And yet, I am. I’m learning to live my life for myself rather than living it for the both of us-”

“I never asked you to do it”

“You didn’t have to. I wanted to. I wanted your dreams to be mine and to be by your side cause I thought that’s the only thing I wanted in life, but I don’t know anymore, Calum. All my dreams were shared with you that I don’t even know if I have some of my own!” You watched Calum’s face slowly lose all kinds of hope he had left and you know you should’ve felt at least a little bit guilty, but that’s not the case. On the contrary, it felt like you deserve this time for yourself “But now I need to find myself, find what I want and what’s good for me and I need to do that alone.

I can’t force my feelings, and I cannot force myself to trust you again when I can’t. Calum, you have to understand that you are a whole new person for me now. I used to believe that you would never hurt me and then, you did”

Calum’s knees fell to the floor as he reached for you once again, holding onto your legs as he desperately tried to make you stay. Stay in any form or way, stay in love with him, stay with him, stay… anything for you not to disappear from his life once again.

“Please, don’t.” He pleaded at your feet “I won’t forgive myself for this. I’m so sorry, my love. My Y/N. Please, don’t. I can’t love anyone but you”

You gripped his shoulders, trying to stay balanced as the curly haired man cried, making you shred a new set of tears again “Oh, but you will.” You reassured him, hoping your tone was convincing enough “Your heart is big enough to love again, to love better. Of course you will”

“But I don’t want to” He separated from you, long enough for you to crouch down in front of him so you could wipe some tears from his face “D-do you want to?” He asked softly.

You saw yourself reflected on his red, puffy eyes. He was never a man that could share his emotions so openly and, even though you’ve seen him cry before, the sight in front of you completely shattered your heart, knowing that his was utterly broken as well. But you can’t lie about your feelings, even if they hurt.

“I don’t know what I want.” You whispered to him.

Suddenly, you hear the front door opened as Ashton’s loud and cheering voice came floating towards your ears. Your eyes widen at the thought of his possible reaction, he’d hate to see Calum here, knowing that he specifically asked him to leave you alone until you were ready to see him, but he’d hate more the fact that you are crying.

“Y/N! I couldn't find that weird ingredient you asked, so I had to ask a lady there that seemed like she could cook and she said that this will work better on your-”

His eyes fall to the floor where you are kneeling down beside Calum. His eyes flickered between you and him, showing all kinds of emotions as he took in the scenario in front of him. He noticed that you were crying and he was about to ask what the hell was going on, but you beat him to it.

You got up and wiped some tears from your face as you walked up to Ashton, grabbed his hand and led him to the kitchen. He reluctantly followed, leaving Calum alone in the living room.

“Okay, what the fuck?” Ashton asks in a hushed tone as he sets the groceries on the kitchen counter “What is he doing here?”

You sighed “I don’t know. Everything is fine Ash, don’t worry. He came to apologize and-”

“Did he say anything to make you cry?” He asked with concern. His hands were cupping your face as he wiped some tears from your puffy eyes, yet his hazel eyes never left your gaze for a second.

“We are both crying, Ashton. It’s fine”

You notice he is not convinced at all, but he won’t fight you on this. You’ve come so far that he is confident that you can defend and stand up for yourself again. He’s seen you broken so many times in the past few months, but he’s also seen you pick yourself up piece by piece like a phoenix.

“Are you okay?” Was the only thing he said. You can’t blame him for being protective of you, and you appreciated that. After all this time he is the only comfort you know won’t leave you behind.

“I will be, don’t worry” You said with a smile. He smiled back at you.

“I will always worry, love. Want me to leave you alone with him? I don’t want to but I feel like I won’t have a choice either way” You nod, “I’ll be down the hall if you need me to kick him out. I love you” He said, placing a kiss to your forehead and giving you a hug.

“I love you, too” You respond as he walks away.

You take a minute to compose yourself before going back to the living room where Calum is waiting.

Calum, on his part, was already on his feet. The tears were drying themselves on his cheeks as he watched you enter the room again.

“Sorry about that,” You said “He gets-”

“Protective, I know” Calum completes the phrase “He loves you, so I get it”

There is an awkward silence between the two of you, almost like if a wall was standing in the middle of the room, separating both of you in different paths. There were so many things left unsaid, like the way Calum felt guilty after seeing you with Ashton and realizing what he should’ve done months ago, or the way you noticed how he was closing up again, shutting himself out from his own feelings, but you both knew that now it wasn’t the time. You didn’t even know if that time would come.

Calum was the first one to talk after a while “And I get what you’re saying, I really do and I support you in every way… But I mean it when I say that i don’t want love if it’s not you” You sighed.

“And what will happen if it’s not me, then?”

He stays quiet,but a tiny smile creeps on his face as he is trying to offer you some comfort “I guess we’ll find out. But I’ll wait for you, Y/N. I will always wait for you cause I know that we belong together. And I promise I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it right for you. To prove my love for you”

“I can’t ask you to do that, and I won’t” You say after a while “We both need to figure ourselves out, to find a life without the other one around, and, if we do end up together, then that’s beautiful. But you have to be open to the possibility of another ending, Calum. I cannot stand around and watch you waste your life away”

Calum nods, he knows you are right, but that doesn’t mean he likes what you are saying. He will respect your decision, though. He knows his love isn’t fragile.

He knows that it was his time to go. He knows that he could still say so much, he could still apologize ten thousand more times and claim his love till infinity, but he knows you won’t change your mind and he can’t, no, he won’t blame you for that. So he turns to leave, but before he gets the chance to do it, you grab him by the arm and pull him for one last hug.

You don’t know what came over you, but a voice inside of you begged you to hold him closer, just one more time and remember what it felt like to be wrapped inside his embrace. And as you held each other close, somehow you both knew that this was a goodbye.

“This is it?” He asks after a silent moment of tears and snuffles, with face hidden in the crook of your neck, taking in your perfume and engraving it in his memory.

“I’m not sure,” You say “It might be”

“If it is. Could you lie and tell me you love me?” Calum pleads “Just for one last time?”

You pull him closer to you, “I could lie and tell you that I don’t”

Tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @talksoprettyjjx @mystic-232

And I also wanna tag some of the beautiful people who asked for a part 2, I hope you liked it ✨ @theshyspy @wonderlandiswhereitsatyo @wontlastimokwiththat @wldflwercal Thank you ❤️

[vdlest]

Onto It

Characters:

TFATWS!Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Summary:

Bucky and Sam are both in New York to finish their mission with the power broker, turns out to be Sharon Carter. The latter is not just the villain in this story, but you once got jealous of her as well when she tried to seduce your man.

Warning:

Swearing

Jealousy

Mention of Smut

"You know you could just call Bucky instead of being a grumpy old lady in here," Wanda pointed out as you accidentally dropped your pen for fifth time.

You and Wanda are doing some mission report in the house that you share together, the reports that you and Wanda are reading and discussing has something to do with the mission two had last week. But your mind is not completely concentrated to whatever the report says. Your mind is in New York, thinking of your man, Bucky Barnes.

"Come on, y/n," Wanda handed you your phone, "Just call him already. I know you're worried about the fact that he and Sam is there in New York to deal with the Sharon Carter," she raised her two hands to make air-quotation-marks upon mentioning Sharon's name.

You used to have no problem with Sharon, you actually wanted her to and Steve to enjoy each other's company before. But that was before. Before that witch became a villain in your lives. All along she is the power broker and she made a fool out of you all. Not just that, she even tried to seduce Bucky because she wanted to cover up her real identity. She put a substance on Bucky's drink to drug him and make it look like something happened to them, but before she could pull off her plan, you and Sam were able to stop her, however she escaped.

"Sam and Bucky are in New York to take that woman down, so I shouldn't feel worried about it anymore," you confidently said, realizing that Bucky promised that there's only woman in his life and that's you.

The two of you started dating a year ago now, but both of you just want to keep it unlabeled for now. But you won't deny the fact that you have been wanting to take it to the next level. There were times when you would ask yourself what is your right to get jealous if there's someone trying to steal your man, he's not even yours to begin with.

"Aren't you guys getting tired of the unlabeled thingy?" Wanda asked you as he closes the folder she's holding, "I mean, no offense, okay? But you clearly like each other. You guys have been dating for a year now and don't you think it's a bit unfair on your part?"

"Unfair, why?" you questioned her. "Wanda, it is also my choice to put it this way. We don't want to rush things about us," you explained.

"Yeah, I know that you guys are confident with your relationship as exclusively dating, but it's better to put label in it. Trust me, you should do it while you still can," she reached for you hand and gave it a squeeze as she smiles at you, "Vis and I didn't have much time. So you and Bucky should make it lasts while you can."

You can sense pain in Wanda's voice. It must've really hard for her to move on and accept her and Vision's fate. If you were in her place, you don't know what will make you stay in your sanity.

Wanda has always been a good friend to you. She has always give you advices and her presence in your life makes you understand the things you were having a hard time understanding, like love itself.

"Do you want some coffee?" Wanda asked you as she stood up from her seat, "I'll probably order some food as well, I'm starving."

Just when Wanda's about to leave to order food and coffee, your phone rang.

B U C K Y calling...

"Seems like your guy cannot live in a day without hearing your voice," Wanda teased before she made her way out, leaving you alone inside the family room.

You grabbed your phone and answered the call of your unofficial boyfriend.

"Hey, I've been texting you, but you're not replying. Are you okay?" he asked as soon as you accepted his call.

"Oh, yeah," you saw the multiple messages that came from him, but you weren't able to see it because you were too preoccupied with the reports and the fact that Sharon Carter is bugging your mind, "Sorry, just got a little mixed up with the mission reports. Wanda and I have been reading it for almost 2 hours."

First of all, you did not want to tell him about your issue with Sharon Carter, although he's already aware of it and he knows already that you got jealous and really angry of her for what happened. Second, you did not want him to feel like you don't trust him.

"How's the mission?" you asked him, changing the topic.

"Well, we finally caught Sharon red-handed. She's in custody right now and the investigation about her will start first thing in the morning tomorrow," he said. Even though they've already taken Sharon down, he and Sam have to stay in New York for a few more days since they have to stay for the investigation, "You, alright?"

You hate it when he knows something's wrong with you or something's bothering your mind. He can already sense it just by the way you breath or speak.

"You know that I know you already, right? So, tell me, what's bothering you?" he questions.

The sigh you let out confirmed his hunch, you're not gonna get away with it anyway so you might as well fire with it. You've always been so honest with him anyway.

"I'm just not so comfortable with the fact that Sharon Carter witch, God, I hope Agent Peggy Carter will forgive me for telling bad words about her niece," you heard him chuckle in the other end. "But God, I can't just forget what she did to you, what she almost did to you."

"You mean when she almost raped me?" he joked.

"Look, Bucky, it's not really funny, okay?" you groaned as you hear him chuckle again on the other line.

"I get it, y/n. Okay? I get it. You have to stop worrying about it, okay? It won't happen ever again. Besides, after this mission, I won't be involved in anything about Sharon anymore. And I also want to take you out again, something that I haven't done for a while now," he reassured you.

It's true that two of you haven't gone on a date for quite some time, as both of you got busy with different things, especially in saving the world and humankind. But it's not really something that bothers you. He still makes you feel special in different ways.

"Buck," you remembered what Wanda advised you and you know you had to open it up to Bucky as soon as you could, "Can we also talk about us when you get back?" you hesitantly asked.

"What do you mean talk about us?" he sounded worried. You closed your eyes as you asked yourself if you did the right thing of opening it up to him this early, "Y/n, do you want us to stop? 'Cause if you do, you can just tell me now."

"Bucky, no," you answered immediately. God knows that's the very last thing you want to happen. You didn't want to lose him. "I just...I...I am...fuck!" you swore, you don't know how to tell him about it.

"Y/n, what's happening? Just tell me so we could do something about it."

You sighed as you prepare yourself to tell everything to him, "I know I was the one who told you and suggested that we should just do the unlabeled relationship because it's much easier that way, and it really was. We did not feel any pressure. We did not feel we have to rush or something, but I just got tired of it. I got tired of it the moment Sharon asked me a few months ago when the incident happened that what is my right to get jealous, to get mad, we're not even in a relationship. It hit me. That question fucking hit me. And here's Wanda telling me how we should make everything last while we can and I feel so guilty that we're taking our time for granted knowing that she and Vision did not get to their happy ending." You took a deep breath and closes your eyes for a second, "I didn't mean to pressure you or anything Bucky, I really don't. I just don't want to take what we have for granted."

After you let your feelings out, it took a few seconds before Bucky could finally answer you. His silence made you nervous but the moment you heard him chuckle, you felt a little relief.

"You're right, we should talk about us when I get back. I should put label to our relationship and I shouldn't make you feel that we're nothing, because you really mean the world to me, y/n. And it's about time we put this whole thing we have in the right pedestal," his words made you ease the embarassment and the awkwardness you're feeling. "Just stop thinking about Sharon, okay? I don't give a damn about her. The whole time I'm away from you all I think is how I would kiss your lips and every inch of your body."

You laughed by the fact that he's thinking of making love to you while he shove off the idea of Sharon Carter or any woman in his life, because there's only one woman in his life and that's you.

"You know I like it when I see you so possessive of me, makes me so eager to fuck you until you realized that you're the only woman I give a fuck," you could clearly hear him he was whispering.

You went out of the family room and went up to your room, giving you more privacy since the man you're talking to right now is starting to propose phone sex.

"Is it just me or you're whispering?" you innocently asked.

"Well, I'm not now. I just got inside my car so," he paused for a moment, "So prepare yourself 'cause I'll make you so wet that you'll wish I'm beside you tonight to attend to your needs."

"You wish," you teased him. "Come home first and I'll cum for you, you tease."

He chuckled, "I'm onto it, sweetheart. I'll ask Sam if I could leave early."

"And what excuse will you tell him?" you asked.

"I'll tell him that I need to make Y/N Y/L/N officially mine, officially my girlfriend. I'll also tell him that there's someone I need to help with her sexual needs," he's joking on the last part but his first sentence made your heart shiver and so excited at the same time.

"That's exciting, and tempting," you teased him back. "Why don't you start pumping your cock and imagine that I'm doing it for you? While I lay here in my bed, thinking of your vibranium fingers making me whimper and moan your fucking name?"

"You're killing me," he groaned and that gave you the sign that he's already pumping himself. "Remind me to punish you for teasing me like this when I get back."

Wanda is right. You should never waste the time you and Bucky have. You should never take anything for granted. Bucky told you that you mean the world to him, and he makes you feel that way, not just sexually, but in romantic way. He would swept you off of your feet. He would do anything for you. That is why if there's someone who'll ask you who are you in James Buchanan Barnes' life, you would just simply answer that you're the love of his life. Too proud to claim it but that's the truth.

No woman can ever make you feel threatened of her anymore, as Bucky claim you his and you claim him as yours day by day, night by night.

-v.dl

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

What’s your opinion for Leo’s reaction to finding out the mc was immortal as well- not necessarily a vampire, maybe they’re some other type of supernatural. I’m really curious because Leo seems like he’s mainly in love with the mc bec they are human.

Hi lovely!!! Always wonderful to see you, hope you’re well! 💛💛💛💛💛

Tbh I think my opinion remains the same about something like this? I'm going to link to an ask I wrote up a while ago, only because it's v pertinent to the subject matter and good background for what I’m going to expand on here.

That being said, I'm happy to kind of tl;dr/expand on what I talked about there. Basically I had the feeling that Leonardo choosing MC as a lover was more circumstantial--regarding the state of his life in the moment, regarding his general feelings about vampires and vampire society, and regarding his unresolved trauma as a young kid.

I guess my answer to that question--and forgive me if it seems like a cop out--is that it really depends, I feel? I think his attraction has a lot more to do with the kind of person somebody is, their sensibility, more than it has to do with mortal vs immortal. If it was an immortal MC that showed ridiculous fortitude and self-control, measured patience and maturity, I really don’t see him not noticing that? I think he would be wary at first (assuming it’s all a front) but with time would likely feel a great deal of love if they were interested in a life together. If they were able to see and understand what he needs and answered those needs, I guess I just really doubt his ability to say no. It’s all he’s really looking for, and the fact that he hasn’t found it after so long really speaks to his frightened evasiveness and the rare nature of that kind of unshakeable strength.

I also think a lot of his hinging away from purebloods (true immortals, in other words) is that he 100% does not want his familia having any involvement in his meaningful relationships. Which might be why he shows more acceptance towards turned vampires, or potentially different supernatural beings.

But I also don’t like giving a vague answer without some kind of explanation as to how I got, to that conclusion, so a boatload of analysis follows below the content warning.

Spoilers for Leonardo’s route and a few mentions of JPN ver content:

I think he has less of an obsession with the idea of mortality, and more like a constant association of goodness and freedom and maturity with humanity. And while it's understandable, there are signs that--when he has the proper time and space to heal--his views seem to soften from those extremes. I mean his decision to live with Comte is pretty much his first step in that direction; it was him acknowledging for the first time that vampires aren't inherently loathsome or incapable of normal living. (On a revealing note, I think it says a lot that he agrees with MC that she is living in a “wolves’ den” but also feels the need to clarify the men are basically the domesticated equivalent. They don’t pose the same threat other vampires typically do to humans because of their lifestyle and sire.) Additionally, his tsun-like behavior towards Comte also seems to solidify this concept for me: Leonardo’s trying to come to terms with something he's sworn to reject since he was young, but also can't entirely deny that Comte is as chill and mature as purebloods come lmao

[There was also an event in the JPN ver–which seems to be approaching the ENG version rapidly, though only the first part is here right now–in which Leonardo fully offers to turn her. MC is essentially on her death bed, and Leonardo doesn’t want to lose her after so little time together; it’s MC that rejects the future as a vampire out of sheer principle. Even more noteworthy is that, when a reincarnation of MC is reunited with Leonardo in modern times, he is revealed to be exceptionally shaken by that loss. There are suggestions he can’t take losing her again, which could mean succumbing to the desire to bite her.]

Two things I feel are necessary to hit home:

The first being that, at least within the storyline so far, the most mature and human-like vampires we’ve seen are Leonardo and Comte. They seek to emulate the maturity they see reflected in the human beings they’ve known all their lives. Given how vampire society and their hierarchies work, I get the feeling humans are nothing more than amusing tools to them--a way to survive and creatures to exercise control over. There’s an objectification and delusion that comes with what I’ve seen, and I think it’s important in this discussion? If the vast majority of vampires behave this way (because I’m ngl, Leonardo and Comte don’t seem very keen on remaining in touch with other vampires all that much) then it only makes sense they prefer the company of humans who can at least share this sensibility of “been there, done that--stop hurting people bc you’re bored/repressed, grow up.”

One event story where this was exceedingly evident was actually Leonardo’s proposal story. If y’all remember, an old pal/acquaintance of Leonardo’s finds out he’s gunning for a human woman and basically goes “lmao not on my watch.” His name was Adam iirc, and he felt he had every liberty to try and pressure Leonardo into turning MC. Failing that, he insisted they should break up and not be together anymore. Now, on the one hand, it’s fair to say that he was looking out for Leonardo in a way–he didn’t want him to end up miserable and alone when she was gone. But at the same time I feel that Adam’s behavior is deeply revealing of vampire society as well lmao. He doesn’t really try to understand the situation, just immediately assumes it’s the only appropriate outcome. It does insinuate a lowkey cultural disdain for humanity: they are imperfect, they do not last or cannot have real value without preservation. If Adam was really Leonardo’s friend, wouldn’t he realize that Leonardo considers vampirism nothing more than a burden that he would wish on no one, much less his future wife? Additionally, wouldn’t he also keep in mind that Leonardo considers human beings beautiful just as they are? Since he fails these basic requirements to understand Leonardo, my impression is that he is influenced by the larger vampire culture to some extent. Furthermore, it underscores just how thoroughly Leonardo has been trained to keep his cards close to his chest for fear of ridicule/violent reprisal: no vampires know his true feelings on the matter because he would be vehemently rejected outright.

[One can also offer that maybe Adam wasn’t being malicious, maybe vampires find human women they fall in love with all the time and turn them (or any other permutation of companionship that occurs), so he doesn’t understand why Leonardo wouldn’t. But even then, to try to force them to break up if she doesn’t turn? A bit overkill imo but also revealing--Leonardo’s will is being ignored for the sake of upholding a kind of ill-founded superiority complex lmao]

While Leonardo does have a somewhat overbearing need to control the pacing of his relationship and who sacrifices what, I don’t think it’s wrong to be cautious--to want to think things through. I think it’s fair to be afraid that the person you’re with can’t handle what you’ve seen/known. But that also leads me to a core issue I have with MC: she doesn’t inspire much confidence that she can handle the life he’s lived, and that’s a problem of both incapacity and incompatibility. I have to wonder how he reacts when he’s with somebody at the same maturity level, or at the very least somebody with whom he can see her strength with time. When MC’s life was dying out he was desperate enough to accept biting her because he didn’t want to lose her–human or not. It’s MC that rejects this solution, which leads me to further believe that he just doesn’t care about the divide when it comes down to it; it has more to do with his difficulty with being vulnerable and fully trusting someone to care about him. (Assuming they also have the fortitude to stay hopeful and relatively strong over the course of a very long life.)

In line with that, the second thing I think it’s important to acknowledge is how deeply hurt Leonardo is as a result of his family treating him like a fool/black sheep. He outright says and heavily insinuates that his family would write her off as worthless, that they’d never accept her--that's his first thought:

Leonardo: “My familia would call you frail. I think you’re strong and beautiful. You do more with your time than we try to do with ours.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

MC: “And those letters were from your familia?”

Leonardo: “Yeah. I don’t talk to them or see them anymore. We don’t agree...on a lot of things.”

[Brief intermission here. But lmao. Who does that sound like? If any of you guessed Isaac, that’s exactly what I’m alluding to. Isaac says in his own route smth along the lines of “Why bother trying to get through to people when no amount of talking does any good or gets you any closer to being understood?” Which also explains the way they get along to uncanny degrees: they find comfort in making things/researching because it means being able to avoid the distress that comes with being blatantly misunderstood by others. Their pain simply comes in different dimensions; for Leo it’s about loss and hiding who he is out of fear of rejection, for Isaac it’s about betrayal and people turning on him--ultimately abandonment for both. But I digress, back to the main argument.]

Leonardo: “Once they discovered my location, they began hounding me with letters again. They don’t want me to be with just anyone...They want more purebloods. I’m no more than one half of an equation for them.”

There is a clear implication that his desire to choose somebody that truly makes him happy means jack shit to them. They keep talking over him and trying to wear him down to force him into what they want. It’s no wonder--imo--that he has such a hard time just saying what he wants in his life, to feel like he has the freedom to wish and pursue anything freely. It’s no wonder he just expects MC to spit on everything that’s important to him. It appears as though only other human beings in general and Comte have ever come close to understanding him.

At some point MC realizes that his insistence on being compagni provvisori was originally just another act of sacrifice, and that he was fine with giving up his time and a little privacy if it meant she would be safe. The thing she doesn’t seem to realize in the course of this--and he struggles to say it until later on--is that it stopped being blind generosity. He really did start to fall in love with her, and that’s the whole reason things became even more messy; because he didn’t anticipate not being able to let go on top of the vulnerability. And it’s a big part of why he’s hesitating to speak. He feels he has no right to those feelings, and that he’s imposing on her--not that he’ll be welcome.

And when she did finally admit those feelings were welcome, it was compounded by the parroted views of his family and larger vampire society as a whole. Saying that she herself wasn’t enough, that she had to become a vampire to make him happy. Imo that sounds very potentially retraumatizing given his experiences (people trying to force him into marriages with other vampires who didn’t remotely understand or care about him because it was “the right way of things”). It’s no wonder he freaks out and does something incredibly stupid and insensitive–which is pretty insanely ooc for him.

Leonardo: “...It shocked them. Quieted them down a bit. Hard to get peace when your familia is immortal. Grazie, cara mia.”

Leonardo: “You’re strong, and you’re kind. So probably you won’t cry while I’m here to see it. But when I’m not looking, you’ll cry. If I had done that to you (bitten her, in other words), you’d still be crying when I wasn’t watching... Maybe it’s selfish of me, after what I did, but I just wanted to make you happy. You always look pretty, cara mia, but your smile takes my breath away...It’s not your destiny to love someone who will only make you cry.”

This man literally cannot handle anyone deeply sad or in despair. He’s always going to try to cheer people up and care about them, but general tragedy/emotional discord affects him very powerfully--and it’s likely a reflection of what I’ve mentioned before. He can’t bear to see people feeling helpless or miserable because he’s just been there too many times to be able to cope. He wants to help and heal (even if he’s suffering from prolonged compassion fatigue), but he knows that his powers are limited--even if he is a pureblood.

And the thing is? While it’s misguided to believe she would cry alone when it comes to the context of healthy romantic love (bc the idea would be that you lean on each other when something upsetting happens) he has zero reference point. He was not born as a result of authentic love (his parents never married, he was the result of a procreative arrangement), his family talks over every wish and belief he has and they still claim it’s done out of love/honest concern for him. One can only imagine the serpentine and obnoxious lengths to which his family has deceived or tried to force him into reconnecting with them. Every person that ever did know him/care about him in a real way is gone. Love, for him, has only been a series of losses that left his heart hollowed out; I don’t really blame him for expecting further disappointment and isolation and exhaustion. 

He’s also not wrong in the sense that he partially saw MC do what he outlined, and it’s a big part about what he loves about her. When she was feeling alone and lost–powerless–all she did was shrug and move forward. That doesn’t make it hurt any less, but focusing on what you can do instead of what you can’t do is healthier. And they both have the tendency to hide when they’re in pain or feeling lost, all because they don’t want to trouble anyone. Remember that when he says this, it’s a reflection of himself too: because even if he was heartbroken beyond measure, all he would do is hide it every second; he would never expect anyone to see right through him or care.

I mean I tend think of that one post I saw that talked about how people often see themselves as a social burden when most of their life has just been a series of neglect and loss. They don’t really have a concept of “you’re not heavy because I want to stay with you. It’s my choice to care about you.” How do you feel worthwhile an existence when four hundred years later your family still won’t treat you with basic dignity. The men in the mansion also all look to him for guidance and soothing because of the kind of person he is–he’s either silent in the periphery or helping. He never betrays so much as an inkling of insecurity or distress. 

I mean the whole reason Leonardo comes to the mansion is because he has absolutely no issue helping Comte in a pivotal time of need without seeking much of anything in return. Remember that Comte explains how Leonardo came to the mansion in response to Comte’s distress about the future. This makes sense considering Comte was rapidly trying to stop Vlad by beating him to the punch, and had only enough time to plan the basics. He had no certainty things would work out, much less that his boys would thrive. But Comte, unlike the boys, has become acutely aware of how much Leonardo is hiding his fatigue and despair in the course of being helped. As such, he wants to return the favor--and tries to be a good friend to him as much as he can (handles his insane familia, keeps things light and silly time between them, takes him seriously as a person, doesn’t pry beyond what’s fair.)

[I also think of that psychology concept of “the good enough mother.” It’s not always about being perfect every second of your life. It’s about paying attention and acting where it really counts. I feel like people who grow up under an enormous burden of neglect or parental/mentor abuse have a hard time coming to terms with the idea. This notion that just trying is enough for a lot of people, that showing them they’re not alone is enough to make  difficult memories bearable. Because it’s the oppressive silence and apathy that tends to kills people, imo--not people who mean well. But Leonardo doesn’t really understand any kind of reciprocal or non-self-emptying model because the concept is beyond him. He has no experience with it beyond Comte and a select few humans he’s befriended.]

Let’s continue on this point of MC crying where he can’t see her, shall we? The reason this scares him so much is not because he doesn’t care, or doesn’t want to make the effort. It’s precisely that he cares to the point of madness. It’s that he is legitimately convinced nothing he has to say, nothing that he can do, no part of him is enough to ease what she will have to trade away to stay with him. The core issue is not one of disregard or objectification, I find it to be more about his belief that he just isn’t enough. He doesn’t trust that anyone can love him to the point where just the sight of him or time with him can heal. And while there is a foolishness to this belief, it’s understandable when you consider where he’s coming from. You can call it selfishness, but it just feels involuntary--he has a lot of fear when it comes to love.

I mean Comte even says it himself? His words here always strike me: “I want you to understand, it’s because he cherishes you just as you are--more than he cares about his future or his well-being.”

Comte is openly identifying the way that Leonardo has a tendency to give more than is healthy. That Leonardo isn’t hesitating because his feelings are lacking, he’s doing it because he knows it’s going to hurt like a bitch trying to love her and never ask beyond what feels reasonable. (Spoilers: no request is reasonable. That’s the problem here. He’s convinced he deserves nothing.) Therefore turning her into a vampire to stay with him is--consequently, to Leonardo--out of the question. This is the literal hingepoint at which Comte and Leonardo divide; Comte simply tells MC he’ll take full responsibility for asking so much of her. He intends to make her happy with every single resource and skill he has at his disposal. Even if he doubts his ability or fears losing her to vampire rhetoric madness, he’d rather try than live with the regret and immediate loss. Leonardo is more resistant because of his dour outlook, that her fear of immortality is never going to be something that either of them can overcome. And/or he’s likely afraid she’s only going to regret being together after so long, and might succumb to the ridiculous sort of power/greed complexes vampires seem so attracted to by nature.

I think Leonardo is still coming to terms with the idea that he isn't alone in the world in a lot of ways, and I think he's also coming to terms with the idea that immortality does not equate to evil. Sure, human beings on average are probably more open to flexible modes of thinking and living compared to vampires--their maturity is in some ways guaranteed due to the instances they're forced to adapt to survive. However, just one look at the ruling class and oligarchies of all kinds (even just stubborn human beings) reveals how they are not immune to the same sort of megalomania, arrogance, and thoughtless violence purebloods/vampires are capable of.

So I guess I hesitate when it comes to the thought that he only loves her because she's human. If anything, I think he loves her for the fact that she's very rooted in reality--not quite so bound by the extremes that trouble him. It's one of the many reasons I believe Leonardo needs a lot of maturity and patience; the ability to differentiate between his panicked/overwhelmed/hurt reactions versus his calm is a skill in and of itself considering his capacity for concealment. To say nothing of getting him to slow down when this happens, too.

I suppose I think about it in a way that’s similar to how Napoleon’s main story narrative is framed. While Leonardo’s route doesn’t focus on the grandeur of being a former emperor, there is a clear insinuation here that he also craves normalcy? Just a little life, with a person he loves dearly, where he can rest and be himself for once. I think because he gives off such an appearance of steadiness, people fail to see that he is barely holding on--not to mention the kind of experiences he’s been deprived of (the exact security and understanding he so expertly emulates).

Closer to your question, it’s worth mentioning that Leonardo’s life goal for a while was the creation of an immortal human being--in that he fully recognized human beings could not offer what he needed as they were.

He loves humans because of their adaptability, their frequent desire to keep seeking out hope and making the best of the broken pieces they have. But then again, it has more to do with the nature of how frequently that sensibility occurs in humans vs vampires (and immortality in general): mortality does demand some level of necessity to change and grow. Which is one of the largest trauma points for him; the vampires around him just refused to grow up, always demanding at him like children and obsessed with their power complexes.

Thing is I also don't know enough about vampire society to know how correct this perceived ratio is. However, given Comte's similar avoidance of other vampires and general inability to live with them (he and Vlad were literal childhood best friends and Comte can't stand him anymore lmao) I think Leonardo may have more validity here than people give him credit for. Which begs the question--why did he quit trying to make a human immortal? What was it that stopped him? Was it the horror of what needed to be done to achieve it? Or would a potential companion start to fall more in love with the idea of immortality than they do with life itself/him? I think it’s a worthwhile question to ask, given the disdain he seems to aim at Shakespeare in particular--once human, but now emulates all of the violence and insatiability marked by vampirism.

This is where the transition from human to vampire/immortal contains another hingepoint: is Leonardo so incapable of finding a middle ground because he feels like any choice he makes will be a wrong one? Marry a human, deprive them of a normal love where they can grow old together. Marry a human and turn them, what if they are reborn with immortal wounds/psychological harm? What if time proves they get bored of him or hateful, what if they begin to act like the predatory purebloods he hates so much? Marry a pureblood/immortal, and be hounded by his family for heirs--risk being with somebody who will never love him or their children, and only inspire more misery in the world.

Does it make sense how this can really start to become an anxious downspiral for someone like him? How the personal insecurity and life history comes together to just compound stress endlessly?

That's the thing that's important here, I think. Leonardo just needs somebody who is open-minded, firm, and not easily deceived. If one takes a look at Leonardo's main story route, the whole reason everything goes to shit so disastrously is because MC stops listening at a critical point. Granted Leonardo could have been more forthcoming for sure, but when she started assuming Shakespeare was right instead of seeing how Leonardo was feeling/reacting, she responded in ways Leonardo wasn't prepared for. He never wanted to shake her faith or insinuate whatever she is is not good enough for him, and tbh I think Leonardo downspiraled because it was just the same thing all over again. What he is--a vampire and immortal--keeps ruining everything he wants with his life. 

[han-shinsuke]

🔞🔞 TOJI FUSHIGURO

To the man I love,

Can I really make you fall in love with me? The answer is no. I could never replaced her. She was your beginning and she would be the end. I did tried my luck in hope of reviving your heart. You said it died with her and you weren’t capable of loving anyone aside from her. That’s where you were wrong about yourself. You may not have realised it, but you just did and you continue pouring everything you can give; to me, to Megumi, and to those who deserves it. You are not what you think you are. I see no evil in you. I see light and hope in your existence. Forgive me, for I am not enough to make you feel what it was like to love again.

May you find the right one for you, Toji. May you find peace in the love you are looking for.

//////

“You dated someone before?” Must I relive the time where I was the most happy? That’s what people do when they long for someone or feeling they had once experienced.

There was a chapter in my life I can never forget. It was the time of stupidity, bravery, and letting go, “I only dated one man in my life.” He has this kind of beauty that any woman my age that time would find hard to resist. “I seduced him to screw me. He is a man and a man has needs.” It was a good fuck indeed. “I had taken him by force. We were married. He could not say no. I was a minor.”

Jesse was in awe. Her mind probably couldn’t process all the shits I have been telling her. “When was that?” Only few of my closest friends knows about these. “During my college days.” A hearty laugh follows.

Again, it was the time of stupidity and bravery and shits. “I told my Dad to drop all the charges against him. He deserves peace and time alone. Of course, with his son and deceased first wife.” It has been five years. I hope he is in perfect shape and stabilized condition. He must be. I am out of his life.

“What would you feel if you meet him again? You left him after a night of rough fuck and a letter.”

Meet him? Again? Who would want to meet the nightmare they wish to disappear? I am a nightmare disguised as a woman. I shall perish.

“I’d be glad.” But he wouldn’t. He will be reminded of the times he had spent with me. “You know what? No one in their right mind would dare cross path with me again.” I may not be able to hold back and cage him in my arms and be the old freak I used to be.

Wherever you are right now, Toji, please, do not show up. I’m tired of being selfish and manipulative and loser when it comes to loving you.

I can’t make you mine.

You were never made for me.

“I will see you tomorrow.” I have started a new life in Kelowna. Alone. I made friends with some locals and luckily, landed a good job in here that pays well. Dad offered me a position in the company but I refused.

My house is not that far from where I work so I always walk home at night; to enjoy the darkness, to feel the coldness of the night and to be at peace under the watch of stars from above.

The keys jingles in my hand as I open the door and closed it again. I head straight to the kitchen without turning the lights on. I grew familiar with every corners so there’s no need to. The light coming from the open refrigerator flooded the kitchen and when I turn to get a glass on the kitchen counter, there is a man sitting there, wearing a plain white shirt and a pajama.

I scream so loud that it destroys the silence of the night and the neighborhood I am living at.

“Fuck!” Toji jumps on me. Two large hands covering my mouth. “It’s me! It’s me!” He points the scar on his face.

If he show up, I will not hold back.

I pounce on him fast. Knocking him down against the counter and in just a heartbeat, my lips are connected to his, kissing him with so much hunger that only him could satiate. I pull onto his shirt and drag him closer when he returns the kiss boldly. Without hesitation, Toji scoops my weight and put it on him as he walks to the couch near the fireplace. My back landed on the soft cushioned seat and my determination to keep him close and lock up between my arms increased. I won’t hold back. I won’t. Toji removed his shirt and the massive built displayed in front makes my throat run dry. I run my fingers from his scar, down to his neck, to his hard chest and to the trenches on his lower abdomen. I had these once. I got to taste the heaven that this body offered.

“Just say ‘no’ and I will stop.” My fingers slips into his pajama, playing with its band. Toji feels no love towards me. What he feels whenever I am this near and close and intimate is just pure heat and thirst. So when he said, “don’t stop.” I switch position with him. I expected it. He’s hard and his eyes don’t lie. I hurriedly discharged of my clothes and top him.

“I will ride you now daddy~” He just nodded. I pull his pajama down to his thighs and just like before, I acted as the thirsty harlot that I am. I am just a harlot, right, Toji? After this, I will drive you away.

He has gotten bigger and longer. I am familiar with his thing. I could tell if there has changes on it. And there was. It does not fit. It feels bigger. Toji seems to notice my struggles in putting him in. He spat on his palm and rub the essence around his length.

“I apologize for the discomfort.” He says, guiding my hips down to his saliva-coated manhood. Our ’thing’ slips into each other smoothly and its presence inside me made me remember the night we had in Mt. Romelo. Toji locks his gaze with me. There’s lust in it and there’s an unknown inhabitant in it fighting against the heat. I cannot withstand it. With my eyes closed and shedding in tears, I capture his lips using mine. Kissing him again hungrily. The rough movements of my lips causes his mouth to part ways and voluntarily lay a path for my tongue.

“Shit baby~ your kiss alone can make me cum~” Toji cried in satisfaction when I bit his bottom lip and tugged on it until he let out a long moan.

“Squeeze my ass daddy~ squeeze me hard~” I guide his experienced hands below and did what I told him to do. Toji squeezed me there hard and even spanked it until it sting. “Great daddy~ do it again please~” My tongue rest flat on his lips and I lick him and kiss him torridly before it goes down his chin which I rewarded with soft kisses and bites before attending his weakness. His neck.

“Fuck...” another long wail from him after I bit him there and suck the skin that has my teeth marks. “Ride me baby~ daddy’s hard for you~” he didn’t have to tell me. I will anyway. I’m just preparing him. Toji likes it when I’m on top and moving.

I continue the hard kiss and lick on his neck while I started pumping my cunt against his leaking cxck. It was slow at first, grinding gently, letting our muscles to adjust to the absence of intimate contact for years. “You want me to go fast daddy?” I know you do, Toji. The way your chest moves up and down and the choke-like-breath you are releasing, confirms it. “You taste so fucking good daddy~ cum inside me daddy~ you’ll love it.” I run my tongue in circular motion from his neck down to his nipplesx and then give what his body was asking for. I fuck my cunt deep and fast against his erection and Toji tightens his grip on my waist as he helps me move easily.

“Shit. Shit.” I love how he put stress to each word. Toji looks beautiful and helpless underneath me. He just makes me wanna ride him more. I push him flat on his back. I even pin his muscular arms above his head and kiss him torridly while riding him. “More baby~ ride daddy’s dickx like that aah yes~”

“Cum daddy~ cum~ flood my hole with your seeds ooohh fuck~” Toji managed to turn the situation in just a click of his tongue against my jaw. He have my hands behind my waist as he cocks his hips upwards, hitting my core in full strength while his lips moves on my neck and anywhere it reaches.

“I’m gonna cum baby~ stretch your pussyxx for daddy yeah? Almost there baby~ Fuck~”

“Ooohhh daddyy~ give it to me fuck~”

A harlot. That’s just what I am. I drown my thoughts with his kiss and flood my mind with his warm loads gushing into me.

I need to drain him so I could leave without him noticing it.

“Another round daddy?” I pulled him out. “I want to ride your face, too.” I will not let him protest. I kneel and sit on his face.

//////

“I booked you a cab. Get your things, Toji.” My plan failed. He didn’t pass out. It was me who got knocked down pretty bad. He fucked me in every positions and he only stopped when I begged him.

Toji cornered me against the window seat and smiled maniacally, “your plan won’t work on me twice baby~” I growled at him when he cupped my breast and taste its bud. I’m just wearing a bathrobe so access is easy. “Let’s give Megumi a little brother, yeah?” He cups another and nibble it. My hands move on instinct. I grab on his hair and press his face harder on my exposed chest.

“Aahh gosh, Toji!’ His tongue is swirling and flicking against my nipplesx. I can’t suppress my moans! “Aahh! St—stop seducing me aahhh!” Now, his fingers finds its way on my folds and immediately proceeds scissoring my hole.

“Oh!” Toji suddenly stops. I pant in anticipation and desire. I want his mouth and fingers back! “I need to return something from you.” I kick my feet when he leaves to get the thing he mentioned from the suitcase.

“What?” I asked. Annoyed. Lips pouted.

Toji pulled me up and was laughing when he pushed me down on the bed. He held my hand and to my surprise, a ring—our wedding ring, was put back in my finger.

I wasn’t sure how or when did I start sobbing when Toji leaned down and claimed my lips then whispered,

“Stay with me and let me love you.”

[acahope311]

Silver Lining

Sleepover Request

luna-xial said: So so so I see you have requests open due to your sleepover (also Ohmygosh congratulations!!) and I was wanting to ask if you could do something with Kili for the fluff prompt list, #3??? ❤️❤️ (if not that’s okay, I just wanted to request something because your writing is so good 🥺❤️) (“(She/he/they) don’t compare to you. No one does.”)

A/N Wow! This one is a doozy. I loved writing this, Kili has always been one of my favorite characters, and the prompt lead to so many directions but I chose to do one where angst was not an option🥺 Thank you so much for sending this in @luna-xial and participating in the sleepover 🥰

*I wanted to thank @guardianofrivendell for double-checking my writing and making sure I knew the difference between "pinning" and "pining" LMFAO!*

Warnings: none? I guess self-doubt?

Erebor was bustling. What once was a dormant and abandoned mountain, a reminder of dwarven greed, now symbolized second chances, wealth, and life. Dwarves from the Blue Mountains were flocking to the mountain, some were those who never thought they would live to see the Lonely Mountain rise from the horizon, the rest were ambitious young dwarrows hoping to start anew. Men were also moving back to Dale, revitalizing the growing community in the shadow of the great mountain- of course, King Bard and his family oversaw the restoration of the city and personally welcomed the new arrivals. Whilst similarly in Erebor, Thorin himself rolled up his sleeves and took to reconstructing the home of his forefathers- his Company by his side. Which were quite a sight to see as thirteen dwarves, a hobbit, and a woman all lifted, chiseled, and swept away rubble, ash, and dirt. Little by little, the fruits of labor began to show and soon the rock-hewn walls seemed to sing the history of the mountain and once the mountain was unearthed, the new dwarves were settled in. You found you had more time to explore the mountain. The grand stone walls of Erebor encased your miniature frame. Funny enough, being a human woman you were head and shoulders taller than most dwarves, but the walls and statues made you shrink. As you quietly made your way through the halls, you’d occasionally run into a group of dwarrow, warm pleasantries were exchanged and small talk was exchanged. Once the mountain was more established and a trade agreement was founded, Thorin had appointed you as a live-in ambassador to Dale and Mirkwood, much to his chagrin. At first living in the mountain had a rocky start, Durin’s folk were always wary of strangers- especially from another race, but once you had proven yourself time and time again, you were welcomed with open arms. However, some still were reluctant to see you as an ally, making it a point to sometimes emphasize your foreignness. Yet you never held it against them but had always put it up to jealousy, for not only were you the woman who accompanied and aided in the quest to reclaim the Lonely Mountain alongside Thorin Oakenshield, but you were very close to the Durin princes-- especially Kili. From the moment you and Kili met, the Company knew you were both trouble. Being both the youngest in the group meant mischief that even Fili had to take a step back to make sure you two were not in over your heads. At first, it was all fun and games, but somewhere along the line, you realized that he meant so much more to you than a friend; you loved him. You’d carried this torch with you throughout the whole quest and although you’d hoped it would extinguish, his sunlight smiles, friendly touches, and adoring eyes fanned the flames of your feelings- it didn’t help that he would always make time to end every night in conversation with you. As time went on, even Fili could see your pining and couldn’t help but smile fondly knowing that you and his brother held mutual feelings but were just too blinded by their infatuation for each other to realize the truth.

One day, at the training grounds when you and Fili were free from your duties, the golden prince set his plan into action. As he stood by the side, he seemed to be lost in thought- reliving an earlier conversation he had with his brother.

“Fi, what do I do?” Kili wailed, sitting in front of his brother as he patiently waited for him to comb his hair. Fili sighed, he knew that wail very well.

“Whatever do you mean, brother dear?” He said teasingly while pulling on a particularly tough knot. Resisting the tugs, Kili began to rant.

“You know what I mean. What do I do about y/n? I want to start the courting process, even Uncle thinks it’s a good idea, but I am so lost… I don’t even know if she returns my feelings.” Kili’s head droops a little at the thought of you not loving him the same way. Fili chuckles at his expense, the sound causing Kili to huff in faux indignation. “I’m glad you’re having a good laugh at my expense brother.”

“Forgive me nadad, but that is such a crazy notion. She loves you, I can see it in the way she lights up when you’re in the room, did you know that?” He says as he continues to untangle the knots in his raven hair.

“Truly?” Kili asks with a little more pep in his tone.

“Truly. You’d think Mahal himself walked into the room with the way her eyes brighten.” Fili smiles as he remembers how in an earlier discussion between you and him, your whole demeanor changed the moment his brother came into the room- like a plant being watered after a drought.

“Do not doubt, brother. She loves you fiercely.” With a reassuring pat on Kili’s shoulder, Fili stands and prepares himself for the day.

“But for Mahal’s sake, fix your hair. I’m sure even she wouldn’t want a prince with a rat’s nest for hair. Amad will shave you if you keep that up!” Fili said as he saw Kili ruffle his hard work.

“I know that! But I also know she’ll love me if I am as smooth as a newborn bairn. She said she loved my hair once on the quest, just before we all fell asleep.” He swooned at the memory. “You don’t understand Fi. I think she is the one, MY One. And I want to do right by her.” Kili’s eyes shone with determination. Speechless, Fili stares at his brother. Then laughs a hearty laugh, confusing Kili.

“What’s so funny?!” He asks, a bit embarrassed. Fili wipes the tears away as he controls his breathing.

“Nothing bad, it’s just that… You truly can find the good in anything! It wasn’t but a moment ago that you were wailing about her not loving you and now you’re declaring her your One.” Fili explains, again brushing his little brother’s hair.

“Oh… Brother, I only do that because of her. She always sees the positive side of everything- and I want to be like that to her. But I can’t do this on my own. Will you help me?” Kili asks timidly. Fili stops and looks directly at him,

“Of course.”

The sound of wood splintering brings Fili back to the present. You ended up breaking the wooden pole and looking sheepishly at him. Sighing fondly, he helps you find a replacement. Once a new one has taken its place, you resume your training while Fili observes.

“You know.” Fili inquired, breaking the silence. “You seem to be so skilled with the sword. Have you tried other weapons?” As you attack a wooden post, the question causes you to pause mid-swing. Pondering this, a small flush creeps onto your face. Suddenly shy, you look down.

“I have been wanting to learn how to shoot a bow…” You whisper as a certain dark-haired prince’s visage of letting loose a quiver of arrows flash in your mind. “I’d always admired how Kili could so quickly nock an arrow and aim with such precision in such a short amount of time. All with a smile, did you know that? That cheeky cub.” You said smiling unknowingly.

Fili smirked. “Now, why would you want to learn how to use a bow, y/n?” he asks- already knowing the answer. As you squirm uncomfortably under his questioning, the silence stretches out. After what seems to be a lifetime, you look up and answer with a determined gleam in your eye.

“Because I want to impress Kili.” You say softly, but resolutely. The answer stuns Fili into silence. After a heartbeat of silence, you continue.

“I know I am not of royal or noble descent. Nor am I rich- I’m not even a dwarf! But I do truly love your brother. I cannot offer much but I would like to start by offering the time to get to better understand his favorite weapon.” You pause, unsure whether you should continue, but you push on. “From what I understand, weaponry and skills are an important part of dwarven courtship, and I would like to take that chance… I have nothing to lose and everything to gain. Your brother is worth that chance-- and if nothing comes from it, I at least can say that I tried. ” A loving look passes your face, reminding him of the times you all sat around the fire and listened to his brother’s stories- already he knew you had fallen hard. ‘She always sees the positive side of everything’, Kili’s voice resonates in his mind.

“But I am still a novice in this… So I may need your help?” You conclude, less confident than what you meant. Exhaling in relief, Fili smiles and turns around. At first, you are worried that you’d insulted him, but when he returns promptly with a bow and a quiver of arrows, your face breaks into a grin.

“I’d gladly teach you,” Fili says proudly as he hitches his belt. You nod and reach for the bow, but at the last minute, he pulls away.

“But I can think of a better teacher, right brother?” A chuckle resonates from the sidelines behind you. Turning around, you see Kili walking towards you, smiling. He reaches for the bow and arrows from Fili and knocks foreheads softly.

“Thank you.” Fili pulls away and nods, as he moves to the exit he passes by you and winks.

“I’ll leave you to it.” Silently, the golden prince leaves the training area- leaving you alone with Kili. Turning to him, you can't help but notice your heartbeat so fast that you're sure he can hear it. The silence grows as you both stare at each other until he clears his throat

"I know Fili may have said that I'd be a better teacher, but I will be honest… I don't think I am." He confesses as he subconsciously nocks an arrow and pierces the wooden post.

"I learned by example, but I will teach you everything I know and by the end of the day, you'd be the best archer in all of Erebor." He says sweetly. "Well… second best. After me of course." Correcting himself. You gasp at his cheekiness and punch his shoulder playfully.

"Alright, alright. Let's get this lesson started."

Several hours passed, and so had several arrows yet not one hit the target. You were out of breath, your arms shaking so much you could barely lift the bow. Kili looked over you, took in the sight of your sweaty form and shaking arms. He sat on the ground with a thump- the sound surprising you.

"Kili? Are you alright?" You asked worriedly, kneeling down next to him.

"I'm sorry." He whispers, not looking at you. Confused, you take his hand into yours and begin to rub his arm comfortingly.

"What do you mean? No need to apologize, you're a great teacher- I'm just a bad student hahaha!" You joke. However, Kili shakes his head.

"No, I'm a better teacher than this, it's just that I am distracted…" he admits, further confusing you. Kili continues, "I heard what you said with Fili." Shocked, you ask, "How much did you hear…?" You look down, unable to meet his eyes.

"All of it." Your shoulders droop in dismay. Ashamed, you begin to pull away, but his grip tightens.

"You don't need to be anything for me, y/n. I don't need a princess nor do I need a lady- I just need you." Kili's confession snaps your eyes to his.

"You don't mean that." You respond, barely a whisper. Your eyes fall on your lap once again, but Kili tilts your chin up so your eyes stare into his deep brown eyes.

"I do, amrâlimê. With every ounce of my being." He smiles the smile that can make even the darkest nights seem like morning. Still, clouds of doubt linger.

"I came from nothing, Kili… You are a prince, there are so many other dwarrowdams, clothed and draped with gems and gold- I cannot compare to that. You deserve-" Suddenly you're pulled forward and silenced as his lips meet yours. At first, Kili seems hesitant, giving you enough time to pull away, but to his relief, you begin to kiss him back. Your hand reaches up and caresses his cheek, while his free hand pulls you in closer, deepening the kiss. For a moment, the clouds break and all thoughts of doubt leave your mind, replaced by a feeling of wholeness-- as though you had found a half you'd never known you'd lost. Reluctantly, however, you both pull away to breathe but bring your foreheads together, basking in each other's presence- time begins to move again.

"My heart belongs to no one except to you, y/n. You are my One and I love you. Don't worry about them; they cannot compare to you. No one can." He breathes, cupping your face in both his hands. Unbeknownst to you, tears trail down your eyes.

"But-" He kisses you again, softly. Brushing away any second thoughts you'd have.

"No buts. Do you know why they don't compare? It's because, in the end, I know they will only want me for my title and gold. But you?" He wipes your tears away and smiles lovingly at you. "You love me for me. You'd seen me at my highs and lows. Moreover, you always show me the bright side of everything, ghivashel. They can keep their gems and golden gowns. For you are my silver lining." With that, Kili pulls you into a tight hug and all you can do is smile as the clouds of doubt break. Assuring you that come what may, no matter what clouds your thoughts, Kili's love for you is true, and will always show you the bright side- he is your silver lining.

[marlasomething]

A Tight Weird Family 1: Martin

Last October I wrote a TMA fic and posted it on AO3. However, I know it is veeeery long and only two chapters so...I decided to repost it on Tumblr chopping it off per character.

I poured my heart into this tale that I wrote because TMA, as silly as it might perhaps sound, helped me to actually be FAR MORE BETTER now at all levels that I was before I discovered it and...I cannot be thankful enough.

This takes place in my main AO3 TMA AU universe, but can be read separately (just: they brought their consciences back in time and had created a completely alternative timeline, the Institute now also serve as a refuge for runnaway kids because I have issues and Gerry is alive because I love him too much).

This is dedicated to Nadia and Paloma, thank you for  being there and indulging all my writing.

Characters in this chapter: Martin Blackwood

TW: negletful family, slight PTSD

Words: 1171

Next chapter: Georgie

Just, as usual, please forgive my non-native speaker and quick tipper mistakes! Allons-y! Marla

Martin fucking hated Christmas.

It wasn’t something he was prone to tell anyone out loud, but that didn’t mean that he did it with any less intensity. For him Christmas had always been this period of time of year when he had been more painfully conscious of how lonely he was, even when his father was still around.

Strike that; especially when his father was still around. After all, his mother might have been terrible to him, but at least she had acknowledged his presence without him having to actively pursue that objective for prolonged, tiring (many times unsuccessful) periods of time. And, then, there was the fact that the older Blackwood had told him about where Christmas presents really came from before he was even five…

…perfect plan for him not actually wanting Christmas presents, though. If you think it through, it had been a rather great money-saving strategy.

Even when he had been in a relationship by the time The Festive Season came around, they had still been the toughest days of the year, since the realisation that none of his partners through the years had chosen to pass even a few hours in the “festivities for family and friends” with him had never gotten any less hurtful. Not that any of those had been healthy relationships at any level, though.

And, then, the whole Archives-nightmare had begun and the concept of time and holidays had disappeared from his dictionary. He vaguely remembered some Christmas carols on the background while holding the hand of a comatose Jon, but he could perfectly have been imagining it. Sleep depravation had been another constant in those times.

However, even if it had been just as an automat that didn’t really understood what it was doing, he had spent every single Christmas Eve with his mother (with the exception of the aforementioned coma-year, of course).

Now, for once, his life had changed for good. Had he had to go through a literal Apocalypse for it? Yes. (Apocalypse that, worth mentioning, in other reality, to a different him, was still happening).

Had he kind of killed his own previous persona in this time-line when he and Jon somehow travelled to it? Absolutely. Were the changes that had turned him into a not-so-human creature still there? Indeed.

And, yet, it was the greatest thing ever to happen to him.

Though it was also true that, before, the bar was…quite low.

And, for once, he was kind of looking forward to those holidays based on a religion he didn’t believe in (even more now, that he knew there were some terrible Things that could be considered some short of gods). Holiday that had been turned into an ultra-capitalist nightmare by big companies and that had also traumatised him as a child as he hadn’t found a single Christmas romantic movie where two boys were even considered as the potential couple if it wasn’t as a joke or the tragic subplot.

Still, he was going to see his mother to the clinic where he had put her in after he and Jon had come back from a reality both hoped they had already been prevented for ever happening again.

At least, to these versions of themselves (time travelling was headache material…).

He realised it might not be healthy to keep on going to celebrate Christmas Eve with his mother (it absolutely wasn’t), but he couldn’t help it. At least, not yet.

It really didn’t matter whether he went or not: if he didn’t show, she’d be mad he was neglecting her, and, if he visited, she would go on telling him how much she didn’t want him there. But, if he went, at least she wouldn’t be able to make him feel guilty (or force some poor nurse to call him in the middle of the night to reprimand him for being a shame of a son).

Hence, his final decision.

He was going, as much as he would have preferred to stay in their recently reformed Institute; all of them still recovering from a past timeline that had been anything but kind to any of them (and less than six months was barely the time to start assimilating it, let alone start to properly heal from the sheer trauma they all had been through one way or another), all of them quite cynical about the whole concept of the holiday, not one of them actually Christian…and, yet, the only people he could imagine himself doing something even remotely similar to one of those bloody corny American Hallmark specials.

He frowned and lowered his eyes to the notebook he had taken with him while waiting in one of the reading rooms of the institute that Elias… Jonah had previously kept always locked (basically due to having a lot of extremely specific texts on the Fears and, well, his original personal life –such a goddam soap opera that had been…-) and wrote a couple of ideas for a poesy.

That was one of the things he had discovered after coming back: he had recovered his motivation to write. Though, obviously, not to record himself in tape; it was more than enough with the tapes that more often than not randomly switched on around them, up to the point they had decided to just let them be.

As he finished writing, he looked at his watch, a bit anxious.

He knew what Jon was doing wasn’t supposed to be dangerous by any means, but…between their experience with widely assumed harmless things and his personal experience with the almost supernatural ability Jonathan Sims presented to get into mortal trouble in almost any context imaginable…he was starting to worry.

Plus, he had to leave sooner rather than later if he wanted to be sure to catch his mother awake; but he refused to go without saying goodbye to Jon.

If things got complicated, he might not be able to return home that night; he might even need to…even thinking about it was hard, but he knew it was a part of him now.

A terrible part, but a part after all.

He shivered at the thought.

He might even need to… let his not human part free for a little while. He was so ashamed of himself for even considering it but…that chance existed; he wasn’t fooling anyone by pretending otherwise. And, if that happened…he didn’t want him to see him that way…He just couldn’t, he knew Jon would blame himself (again) and he…he just wanted him to, for once, put himself first.

So he stayed there, tapping more and more nervously to the floor to some tune he heard Tim butchering (singing) a couple of days ago…

…Jon better came in quickly, or all his worry was going to become anger and, as much as he loved the man, he had learned that he, Martin Blackwood, also deserved to be mad at The Archivist.

And the world should be more concerned when it came to witness an angry Martin Blackwood.