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#i've had this sitting in my drafts for like 4 days now
hd-junglebook · 2 days
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Its Always Been You
Part 4 / Word Count 5816
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Summary: And so, the trip to Michigan begins with a little surprise guest.
In the dim glow of his bedroom, Jack's world felt like it was crumbling around him. The shadows danced across the walls, mirroring the chaos within his mind.  Jack's hands trembled as he held the phone to his ear, his breathing uneven and his heart racing.
"Luke, I don't know what to do with myself," Jack's voice trembled, a mix of anguish and vulnerability. His eyes were glassy with unshed tears, and his free hand clenched into a tight fist.  
"I've acted like a complete fool all week. Y/n hates me. I'm feeling… I'm feeling things I never felt before for y/n, and I think I've finally lost my mind."
Luke's harsh tone cut through the silence, his confusion evident. "Jack, what the hell are you talking about?" There was a rustling sound on the other end of the line, as if Luke was sitting up in bed, suddenly alert.
Jack's pacing resumed, his frustration palpable. He ran his fingers through his disheveled hair, his footsteps heavy against the carpeted floor.
The room felt suffocating, the walls closing in on him as he struggled to contain his emotions.
"I told y/n I knew how she felt about me, and then I broke her heart. She left me all alone for three days. Jesus, I just saw her locking lips with some loser in the hallway. It's taking everything in me not to go out there and drag him outside."
"Jack…" Luke barely got out before he was interrupted again.
Before Luke could respond, Jack's voice rose again, defiant and emotional. "I'm not done." He halted his pacing, standing in front of his dresser where a picture of y/n and him sat.
It was from the night of his draft party, a snapshot of happier times. Jack's fingers traced the edges of the frame, his eyes fixated on y/n's smiling face. The photograph seemed to mock him, a cruel reminder of what he had thrown away.
He thought back to that night, his emotions, how he begged her to leave her life behind and move to New Jersey. The memory was vivid, the excitement and hope he felt then now replaced by a crushing sense of regret.
The scent of her perfume, the warmth of her hand in his, the sparkle in her eyes—it all came flooding back, intensifying the ache in his chest.
Rustling came through the speaker of Jack's phone. "I ruined us, Luke. I've ruined the best thing I've ever had." Jack's voice cracked, a single tear escaping and rolling down his cheek.
"Dude, it's almost 12am, and you're babbling about something everyone and their mom knew already. How long did you think you could fight your feelings?" Luke's tone softened, a mix of exasperation and concern.
"I don't know, Luke." Jack stayed still for a moment, his shoulders slumped in defeat. The door of their apartment closed, and he hung up on Luke when he heard footsteps approaching.
Jack perked up, holding his breath as he listened to them get closer. His heart raced, a glimmer of hope sparking in his chest.
Another door closed, leading Jack to swing open his door. Y/n had already closed her door, the click of her lock reverberating through the silent apartment.
Jack's hand hovered over her doorknob, his fingers trembling. He wanted to knock, to apologize, to pour his heart out, but fear and uncertainty held him back.
The sound of her alarm woke her from her restless sleep, the shrill beeping cutting through the stillness of the early morning. Her eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the darkness around her.
The room was bathed in a deep, melancholic blue, the shadows clinging to the corners and casting an air of despair. The curtains, a soft, sheer fabric, billowed gently in the breeze from the slightly open window, allowing a sliver of pale moonlight to penetrate the gloom.
"Here we go again," she mumbled groggily, her voice heavy with exhaustion and resignation. The words felt thick on her tongue.
She sat up in her bed, allowing the blanket to fall in a heap on her waist. The sheets, once a comforting embrace, now felt suffocating, tangled around her legs like the thoughts that consumed her mind.
y/n looked around the room with despair, her gaze lingering on the familiar objects that held countless memories—the framed photographs on the dresser, the stack of well-worn books on the nightstand, the discarded clothing strewn across the floor.
Y/n sighed again, the sound echoing in the emptiness of the room. She pushed the blanket off of herself fully, the cool air of the apartment sending a shiver down her spine.
Her steps were light as she dressed herself, opting for comfort over style for the plane ride back to Michigan. She pulled on a soft, oversized sweater, the fabric enveloping her like a comforting hug, and a pair of well-worn leggings that had seen better days.
As she moved about the room, gathering her belongings, the floorboards creaked beneath her feet, the sound amplified by the silence that hung heavy in the air. The scent of stale coffee and the lingering aroma of chocolate chip cookies wafted through the apartment.
Jack's door opened across from her room, his yawning loud against the stark silence of the world outside their little apartment. The sound made her flinch, her body tensing as she braced herself for the inevitable encounter.
She could hear his footsteps, the shuffling of his feet against the hardwood floor, and the rustling of his clothing as he moved about his room.
Y/n rolled her eyes, not ready to interact with Jack just yet. The thought of facing him, of seeing the guilt and regret in his eyes, made her stomach churn. She focused on the task at hand, pulling her suitcase up to the door, the wheels squeaking against the floor.
Her eyes landed on the corkboard that hung on the wall beside the door, the pictures of their innocent smiles and young faces causing her heart to break even more.
In one picture, they were grinning broadly, their arms wrapped around each other's waists as they posed in front of a sunset on the beach. In another, they were dressed in formal attire, attending a friend's wedding, their eyes sparkling with happiness and love.
Y/n's fingers traced the edges of the photographs, the glossy paper cool beneath her touch. A lump formed in her throat as she studied each image. She could feel the sting of tears behind her eyes, the emotions she had been trying so hard to suppress threatening to spill over.
She pulled the door open, rushing past the open bathroom where Jack stood in the mirror, his toothbrush dangling from his mouth and a look of surprise etched on his face.
Y/n moved with the speed of a cheetah, her feet pounding against the floor as she made a beeline for the safety of the kitchen.
Just as she thought she had escaped the awkwardness, the front door jingled, keys rattling against the metal knob like a mischievous poltergeist trying to gain entry.
Y/N stood frozen in place, her body rigid with shock as the door to the apartment swung open. The sudden intrusion had caught her completely off guard, and she felt as if she had been turned to stone, unable to move or speak.
As she watched, a tuft of blonde hair bounced into view, the golden locks reminding her of the fairy tale character Goldilocks. But this was no innocent child stumbling upon a bear's cottage; this was a full-grown woman barging into her home uninvited.
"Daphne? What the hell are you doing here?" Y/N managed to choke out, her voice rising in pitch with each word until it reached a near-shriek. The disbelief and anger dripped from her tongue like bitter honey, leaving a foul taste in her mouth.
Jack's girlfriend fully entered the apartment, dragging a garishly pink suitcase behind her. It was as if she had packed her entire life into that one piece of luggage, ready to move in and stake her claim.
The suitcase was so bright it hurt Y/N's eyes, a beacon of chaos signaling the impending doom that was about to unfold.
From the corner of her eye, Y/N saw Jack emerge from the bathroom, toothbrush still dangling from his mouth. White foam dripped down his chin, making him look like a rabid dog caught in the act.
His eyes widened as he took in the scene before him, darting back and forth between the two women as if trying to comprehend the gravity of the situation he had found himself in.
Daphne's gaze flicked between Jack and Y/N, her initial smile slowly fading as realization dawned on her face. "We planned this months ago, silly," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness.
"Non-refundable ticket. We talked about this, Jack. It's only been three months; you can't get rid of me that easily."
She let out a laugh that sounded more like a witch's cackle, her eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief and something darker, more possessive. It was clear that she had no intention of leaving, no matter how unwelcome her presence might be.
Y/N felt her heart sink into her stomach, a wave of nausea washing over her as the reality of the situation hit her like a ton of bricks. Daphne was here, in their home, and it seemed that Jack had been keeping even more secrets than she had realized.
The air in the apartment suddenly felt thick and suffocating, the tension so palpable you could cut it with a knife. Y/N's mind raced with a million questions, a million accusations, but she couldn't seem to form the words.
All she could do was stand there, frozen in place, as the world she had built with Jack came crashing down around her like a house of cards.
Jack let out a heavy sigh, his hand rubbing the front of his scalp as if trying to erase the memory of ever agreeing to this disastrous plan. His face scrunched up like he had just bitten into a particularly sour lemon, the bitterness of the situation leaving a foul taste in his mouth.
He glanced sheepishly at Y/N, his eyes darting between the two women like a puppy who had been caught chewing on his owner's favorite pair of shoes.
"Can you give us a sec? Please?" he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he were afraid that speaking any louder would cause the fragile peace to shatter.
Y/N scoffed, her arms crossing over her chest as she fixed Jack with a withering stare. "No, we have to leave soon, and if I don't have my coffee, I just might jump off the plane dealing with you both," she retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
Her eyebrows rose so high they nearly disappeared into her hairline, the thought of being trapped on a plane with these two making her seriously consider grabbing a parachute and taking her chances with gravity.
Jack's face reddened, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "We need privacy though!" he said, his voice tinged with annoyance.
He threw his hands up in the air, as if he were trying to physically push away the awkwardness that had settled over the room like a thick fog. "Could you give us some time?"
Y/N let out a humorless laugh, the sound harsh and grating in the tense silence of the apartment. "Oh, you need privacy? That's rich, coming from the guy who couldn't even bother to tell his best friend that his girlfriend was coming to visit."
She shook her head, her eyes narrowing as she fixed Jack with a look that could have melted steel. "You know what? Fine. You two lovebirds enjoy your little reunion. I'll be in my room, packing my bags and booking a one-way ticket to anywhere but here."
With that, she spun on her heel and stalked off towards her bedroom, her footsteps echoing like gunshots in the stillness of the apartment. She could feel Daphne's eyes boring into her back, could sense the smug satisfaction radiating off the other woman in waves.
But Y/N refused to let it get to her, refused to let the hurt and betrayal show on her face. She had always prided herself on being strong, on being able to handle whatever life threw her way. And she sure as hell wasn't going to let Jack or his girlfriend see her crumble.
As she reached her bedroom door, Y/N paused, her hand resting on the knob. For a moment, she was tempted to turn back, to march right up to Jack and demand an explanation.
But she knew that it would be pointless, knew that whatever he had to say would only make the pain worse.
So instead, she took a deep breath and stepped inside, slamming the door behind her with a resounding thud. And as she sank down onto her bed, her head in her hands and her heart in pieces, Y/N couldn't help but wonder how everything had gone so wrong, so fast.
Y/N walked back out into the living room, Daphne turned to her with an expression of exaggerated surprise. Her eyes were wide, and a cute smile was plastered on her face, the kind of smile that made you want to pinch her cheeks but also question the sincerity behind it.
"This is your best friend, right? She's a lot shorter than I remember," Daphne said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. It was clear that she was trying to get under Y/N's skin, to establish her dominance in the situation.
Y/N couldn't help but scoff, her eyes rolling so far back in her head that she nearly caught a glimpse of her own brain. "And you're the EX-girlfriend, right?" she retorted, putting extra emphasis on the "ex" part. Two could play at this game, and Y/N wasn't about to let Daphne win.
Jack let out a groan, his head falling back in frustration. "God, just my luck," he grumbled, his eyes rolling so hard they nearly got stuck in the back of his head.
He knew that he was in for a long and uncomfortable conversation with Daphne, and the thought of it made him want to crawl into a hole and never come out.
Y/N took a deep breath grabbing her coffee, the warm liquid providing a momentary comfort before made her way back out to the kitchen. Y/N grasped the cold metal handle, the chill sending a shiver down her spine.
"Let's go before I change my mind," she said, her voice flat and emotionless. She didn't want to give Jack or Daphne the satisfaction of seeing how much this situation was affecting her, didn't want to let them see the cracks in her carefully constructed façade.
The journey to the airport had been a tense affair, with Y/N pointedly ignoring Jack's attempts at conversation and Daphne chattering away obliviously in the background.
Y/N could feel Jack's eyes on her, his gaze heavy with unspoken apologies and explanations, but she refused to meet his eye, focusing instead on the passing scenery outside the car window.
they made their way through the bustling terminal, Jack tried once more to pull Y/N aside, his hand gently grasping her elbow. "Y/N, please, can we just talk about this?" he pleaded, his voice low and urgent.
Y/N yanked her arm away, her eyes flashing with barely contained anger. "There's nothing to talk about, Jack," she hissed, her voice sharp as a knife. "You made your choice, and now we all have to live with the consequences."
Jack's face fell, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "It's not like that, Y/N. If you would just let me explain..."
But Y/N cut him off with a bitter laugh, her head shaking in disbelief. "Explain what, Jack? How you don’t like me? How you play this stupid hot and cold game with me? No, I think I've heard enough explanations to last a lifetime."
She turned to walk away, but Jack's hand shot out once more, his fingers wrapping around her wrist. "Please, Y/N," he whispered, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "I never meant to hurt you. You have to believe that."
For a moment, Y/N wavered, her resolve crumbling in the face of Jack's obvious distress. But then she caught sight of Daphne waiting impatiently by the gate, her foot tapping, and her arms crossed, and the anger came rushing back in full force.
"I don't have to believe anything, Jack," she said, her voice cold and distant. "You made your bed, and now you have to lie in it. I just want to forget about all of this and move on with my life. So please, just leave me alone."
With that, she wrenched her arm from his grasp and strode towards the gate, her head held high and her heart shattered into a million pieces.
The seating arrangement on the plane felt like a cruel joke, a twisted game of fate that had placed Y/N in the middle of the very chaos she had been trying to escape.
She found herself sandwiched between Jack and Daphne, her body pressed against the cool glass of the window as if she could somehow merge with the clouds and drift away from the awkwardness that permeated the air.
Jack sat rigidly in the middle seat, his body a tense barrier between Y/N and Daphne. Y/N could feel the heat of his skin, could smell the familiar scent of his cologne, and it made her heart ache with a longing she couldn't quite suppress.
On Jack's other side, Daphne slept peacefully, her head lolling against his shoulder and her soft snores filling the space between them. She seemed blissfully unaware of the silent war raging within Y/N's mind, the turmoil that threatened to consume her from the inside out.
Y/N's foot tapped incessantly against the floor, a nervous habit that betrayed the inner chaos she was desperately trying to conceal. Each tap was like a metronome, counting down the seconds until she could escape the confines of the plane and the suffocating proximity to Jack.
She could feel his eyes on her once more, could sense the weight of his gaze boring into the side of her head. But she refused to look at him. Instead, she focused on the clouds outside the window, on the endless expanse of blue sky that stretched out before her.
Y/N was lost in thought, her mind a whirlwind of emotions and memories, when Jack's hand suddenly shot out, startling her back to reality. Before she could react, he had shoved a headphone into her ear, ignoring the sputtered questions and the look of indignation that flashed across her face.
His fingers brushed against her skin, sending a jolt of electricity through her body. It was a reminder of the connection they once shared, the easy intimacy that had defined their friendship for so many years. Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her heart racing as she tried to process the unexpected gesture.
As the familiar opening credits of her favorite episode of Game of Thrones filled her ear, Y/N's eyes widened in surprise. She glanced at Jack, searching his face for an explanation, but he steadfastly refused to meet her gaze.
His eyes remained fixed on the screen in front of him, as if the answers to all of life's questions could be found in the flickering images.
Y/N couldn't help but steal glances at Jack, her eyes tracing the contours of his face, the curve of his jaw, the way his lashes cast shadows on his cheeks.
Each glance was a silent question, a plea for him to acknowledge the unspoken words that hung between them. But Jack remained stoic, his attention unwavering, as if he had erected an impenetrable wall around himself.
Even as she tried to immerse herself in the show, Y/N couldn't shake the awareness of Jack's presence beside her. The warmth of his body seemed to seep into her skin, igniting a longing that she had tried so hard to suppress.
She could feel the rise and fall of his chest, could hear the soft whisper of his breath, and it made her heart ache with a bittersweet mixture of love and loss.
Beside her, Jack remained a silent presence, his body so close and yet so far away. Y/N couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking, what he was feeling.
Y/N stepped out of the airport, the crisp Michigan air filling her lungs and invigorating her senses. She took a deep breath, savoring the familiar scent of pine and freshly cut grass that always seemed to linger in the air.
The sun peeked through the scattered clouds, casting a warm glow on her surroundings and making the world seem a little brighter, a little more hopeful.
She scanned the crowd of people waiting outside the terminal, her eyes searching for a familiar face. And then, like a beacon in the chaos, she spotted him.
There, leaning against a sleek black car, was Luke. A grin spread across his face as he caught sight of her, his eyes crinkling at the corners in the way that had always made her heart skip a beat. "Y/N!" he called out, pushing himself off the car and striding towards her with open arms.
Without hesitation, Y/N dropped her bags and ran to meet him halfway. She threw her arms around his neck, feeling the solid warmth of his body as he wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her off the ground in a spirited hug. For a moment, the world seemed to fall away, and all that mattered was the comfort and familiarity of Luke's embrace.
"I missed you so much," Y/N mumbled into his shoulder, her voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt. She breathed in the scent of him, a mixture of cologne and something uniquely Luke, and felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her.
Luke chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating against her own. "I missed you too, shorty. It's good to have you back."
He set her back down on the ground, but kept his arms around her, as if he was afraid she might disappear if he let go. Y/N couldn't help but smile up at him, feeling a sense of warmth and belonging that she hadn't felt in a long time.
Behind them, the sound of footsteps on the pavement broke the spell. Y/N turned to see Jack and Daphne approaching, their faces a mixture of exhaustion and something else, something harder to define. Jack's eyes met hers for a brief moment, a flash of emotion passing between them before he looked away, his jaw clenching.
Luke's arms tightened around Y/N, a silent show of support and protection. "Hey Jack, Daphne," he said, his voice carefully neutral. "Glad you could make it."
Daphne smiled, the expression not quite reaching her eyes. "Thanks for picking us up, Luke. It's been a long flight."
Y/N could feel the tension crackling in the air, the unspoken words and unresolved issues hanging between them like a thick fog. But for now, she pushed them aside, focusing instead on the feeling of Luke's arms around her and the promise of a few days away from the chaos of her life in New Jersey.
Jack moved forward, his arms open wide and a grin plastered on his face, Y/N felt a flicker of hesitation. There was something about his expression that seemed forced, as if he was trying too hard to appear casual and unaffected by the tension that hung thick in the air.
But before Jack could reach them, Luke's hand shot out, smacking the side of his head with a resounding thwack. The sound echoed through the parking lot, drawing the attention of a few curious onlookers. Jack stumbled back, a bewildered look on his face as he rubbed the spot where Luke's hand had made contact.
"Ow, what was that for?" Jack asked, his voice a mix of surprise and mock indignation. His brows furrowed as he looked at Luke, trying to decipher the reason behind the sudden attack. Y/N could see the gears turning in his head, the confusion and hurt flickering behind his eyes.
Luke lowered his voice, his tone stern yet laced with underlying concern. He leaned in closer to Jack, his eyes locked on his brother's, as if he was trying to convey a message that went beyond words.
"For being an idiot and for bringing her here. Did you forget about what you said on the phone?"
Y/N felt her heart skip a beat, her mind racing with the implications of Luke's words. What had Jack said on the phone? What secrets had he been keeping from her, even as he tried to bridge the gap between them?
Jack's face flushed with guilt, the color rising in his cheeks like a crimson tide. His eyes darted to Y/N, then back to Luke, a silent plea for understanding.
For a moment, no one spoke. Y/N could feel Daphne's eyes on her, could sense the other woman's curiosity and suspicion. But she refused to meet her gaze.
Finally, Luke broke the silence, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "Come on," Luke said, releasing Y/N and grabbing her bags. "Mom's waiting at home with lunch. She's been cooking up a storm all morning."
Y/N grinned, the thought of Luke's mother's cooking making her mouth water. "Lead the way," she said, falling into step beside him as they made their way to the car.
As they walked, Y/N could feel Jack's eyes on her back, could sense the weight of his gaze boring into her. But she refused to look back, refused to acknowledge the part of her that still longed for his touch, his presence, his love.
Instead, she focused on the warmth of Luke's hand in hers, on the promise of a few days of respite and healing. And as they drove away from the airport, the skyline of Detroit rising up in the distance, Y/N couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope igniting in her chest.
Maybe, just maybe, this trip would be the start of something new, a chance to leave behind the pain and heartache of the past and find a way forward, one step at a time. And with Luke by her side, and the love of her family to guide her, Y/N knew that anything was possible.
Lukes’s car pulled up to the familiar two-story house, Y/N felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her. The red brick facade, the white wooden porch, the sprawling oak tree in the front yard - every detail was exactly as she remembered.
She stepped out of the car, the warm breeze caressing her face and tousling her hair. The scent of freshly cut grass filled the air, a sweet perfume that brought back memories of lazy afternoons spent lounging in the sun and late-night conversations under the stars.
Y/N took a deep breath, letting the peace and tranquility of the moment settle over her like a comforting blanket. For the first time in days, she felt the knots of tension in her shoulders begin to loosen, the weight of her worries and fears slowly melting away.
Beside her, Jack and Daphne were unloading their bags from the trunk, their voices a low murmur against the backdrop of chirping birds and rustling leaves. Y/N hesitated for a moment, her eyes lingering on Jack's face, taking in the lines of stress and fatigue that creased his brow.
In that moment, she made a decision. She was tired of being angry, tired of holding onto the hurt and betrayal that had consumed her for so long. Life was too short to waste on grudges and resentment, too precious to let slip away in a haze of bitterness and regret.
With a determined set to her jaw, Y/N strode over to Jack, her steps purposeful and sure. He looked up as she approached, his eyes widening in surprise and a flicker of hope.
"Hey," she said, her voice soft but steady. "I just wanted to say... I'm sorry for the way I've been acting. I know things have been tough lately, but I don't want to keep dwelling on the past. You're my best friend, Jack, and that's never going to change."
Jack's face softened, his eyes shining with a mix of relief and gratitude. "Y/N, I..." he started, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm sorry too. For everything. I never meant to hurt you, and I know I have a lot to make up for. But I'm willing to do whatever it takes to earn your trust again."
Y/N felt a lump form in her throat, the sincerity in Jack's words tugging at her heartstrings. She reached out and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"I know," she said, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "let's just focus on enjoying this trip and being there for each other, okay?"
Jack nodded, his own smile breaking through the clouds of tension that had hung over them for so long. "Okay," he said, his voice filled with a tentative hope. "That sounds perfect."
Together, they made their way up the porch steps, their hands still intertwined. Y/N could feel the warmth of Jack's skin against her own.
"Welcome back, sweetheart," Ellen said, her voice warm and rich like honey. "We've missed you so much."
Y/N felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. “I've missed you too," she said, her voice muffled against the older woman's shoulder. "It's so good to be home."
Luke led Daphne and Y/N up the stairs, their footsteps echoing on the hardwood, Jack seized the opportunity to pull his mother aside. His heart raced, palms sweaty as he glanced nervously between her and the staircase, his body practically vibrating with anxiety.
Ellen's brows furrowed, her maternal instincts kicking into high gear as she sensed her son's distress. She placed a gentle hand on his arm, her touch a silent invitation to share his troubles.
"Jack, honey, what's wrong?" she asked, her voice soft and filled with concern. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Jack swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He ran a shaky hand through his hair, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape. But there was none to be found, and he knew that he owed his mother the truth.
With a heavy sigh, he guided her to the couch, his movements stiff and awkward. They sat down, the worn cushions sinking beneath their weight, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.
Finally, Jack broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. "Mom, I... I messed up. Y/N and I, we had a fight. A big one. And I don't know how to fix it."
Ellen's eyes widened, a flicker of disappointment crossing her face. But she remained silent, allowing her son to continue.
"I didn't tell her about Daphne, and she found out in the worst way possible. And now... now she can barely look at me. I don't know what to do, Mom. I can't lose her."
Jack's voice cracked, the tears he had been holding back for so long finally spilling over. He buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking with the force of his sobs.
Ellen's heart ached for her son, for the pain and regret that radiated off him in waves. She reached out and pulled him into a hug, her arms wrapping around him like a protective cocoon.
"Oh, Jack," she murmured, her voice filled with a mix of sympathy and gentle chastisement. "I know it's hard, but you have to be honest with the people you love. Secrets have a way of coming out, and they always hurt more in the end."
Jack nodded, his face still buried in his mother's shoulder. "I know," he said, his voice muffled by the fabric of her shirt.
"I just... I didn't want to hurt her. But I ended up doing exactly that." Ellen pulled back, her hands coming up to cup Jack's face. She looked him in the eye, her gaze filled with a wisdom born of years of love and experience.
"Do you remember the time that boy was bothering Y/N in school?" she asked, her voice soft and reminiscent. "You came home with a black eye and a split lip, but you were so proud of yourself for defending her."
Jack's lips twitched, a hint of a smile breaking through the tears. "Yeah, I remember. She was so upset, but I just wanted to make her feel safe."
Ellen nodded, her own smile mirroring her son's. "You brought her back here, to this very house. And you let her lay her head on your lap, and you caressed her hair until she fell asleep. Do you remember what I told you then?"
Jack's brow furrowed, his mind stretching back to that distant memory. "You said... you said that love is the most pure thing you can feel."
Ellen nodded, a knowing smile playing at the corners of her lips. "And I see it in you, Jack. When you look at her. You love her, don't you?"
Jack took a deep breath, his shoulders straightening his heart skipping a beat at his mother's words. He had always known, deep down, that his feelings for Y/N went beyond friendship. But to hear it spoken aloud, to have his deepest secret laid bare... it was both terrifying and exhilarating.
"I... I don't know what to say, Mom," he stammered, his cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and longing. "Y/N and I, we're just friends. And besides, Daphne...” He trailed off, his eyes flickering towards the staircase where his ex-girlfriend had disappeared just moments before.
Ellen sighed "Jack, honey, the longer you wait, the harder it's going to be. Sooner or later, you're going to decide whether you want to be with her in that way or let her go and find love in someone else.”
Jack stood up, his heart lighter than it had been in days. He hugged his mother one last time, breathing in the comforting scent of her perfume. "You're right, Mom. I need to be honest with myself, and with Y/N. But... but I can't do it now. Not with Daphne here. It wouldn't be fair to anyone."
"Ellen patted his cheek, her touch a silent benediction. "I understand, sweetheart. But don't wait too long, okay?
Tag List <3
@favsrachz @jacktoria4ever @bunbunbl0gs @ivy-34 @rebelatbay @bxtchopolis
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alisterfm · 1 year
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                                𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖗𝖔𝖉𝖚𝖈𝖎𝖓𝖌... 𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖗𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖊𝖗
NAME: alister james rosier
NICKNAMES: aster, 
AGE:twenty three
GENDER IDENTITY:cis-male
PRONOUNS:he/him
SEXUALITY: fluid
BIRTHDAY: march 22
STAR SIGN: aries
WAND: yew, phoenix core, 12 1/2″ long, supple flexibility 
PATRONUS: goshawk
BLOOD STATUS: pureblood
SPECIALISING: magical artifacts
EXTRACURRICULARS: care of magical creatures, wizard chess, swim team
HOUSE: slytherin
ALMA MATER: thriudreiks
HEIGHT: 6′2″
HAIR: brown
EYES: blue
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I. It’s an usually cold night in spring, midwives gather in a bedroom chamber to welcome the first born that will continue the sacred line. He doesn’t cry, worry lingers in his mothers eyes; when assurances comes, the worry fades. The cold follows from infancy to childhood, chilling him to his core until it settles in his bones. Expectations weigh him down, the Rosier name a sacred 28 and there’s a way things must be done. He has to excel with no exception, the purest blood they said but when skin is cut it still bleeds red.
II. His father is ice, strict and stern and unforgiving. His mother is warmth, gentle and loving and safe. Childhood is a mix of both, heavy words soothed over by forgiving arms. He’s brought up the way a boy of his status should be, though his fathers words about status and blood go ignored. They mean nothing to a curious boy more focused in the stories in his books than the one’s of his ancestor’s past.
III. It’s unexpected, his mother’s leaving, though a surprise to none except his father. Their marriage was never the fairy tale picture, a marriage of duty and a stranger of love. She held on to her son with a iron grip but in the end she had to put her happiness first, freedom was granted but he’d been the price. On the day she left, he received his letter. The years that followed were void of warmth and in its absence grew resentment. His father remained unchanged, his focus still on the legacy of their name and Aster’s place in it. He was sent away to school, a place with others just like him, told to not just be better but the best and anything else would not be accepted.
IV. Thiudreiks is paradise, a moment of peace away from home and he shows his thanks by living up to the expectations wanted from him. He makes a home in a found family of his own choosing, some familiar from childhood days and others new and with nothing in common, a select group of friends that he offers his loyalties to. He does as he’s told until at 18 he sheds the weight from his shoulders. He peruses a higher education for him, Aurelius, finally time for himself and away from any expectations. 
tidbits
despite being pureblood and holding the rosier name, aster doesn’t really care about blood status. it’s partly due to his family’s obsession with it
slytherins tend to get a bad rep for being the worst but aster isn’t very cruel, he’s cold and doesn’t offer a friendly hand but he also won’t go out of his way for cruelness. that requires time and effort and there are better things to do
when it comes to relationships he’s very flaky. he’ll be the perfect boyfriend for a brief moment then might lose interest or get bored and calls it quits. 
the idea of having to share a bedroom with 3 others does not appeal to him at all, because of this he chooses to stay off campus and lives in hogsmead. he’ll walk or fly in to class every day. often his flat is a gathering place for his friends
he doesnt shy away from trouble, he likes to keep things spicy from time to time
i’m open to pretty much any plot with him!! feel free to reach out to me if i don’t reach out to first!!
8 notes · View notes
hunnylagoon · 3 months
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Right Where You Left Me
Pt 4: The Sweetest Thing to Ever Scare You (Finale)
Ellie Williams x reader
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I remember when I first saw you. I remember looking into your warm almond eyes and feeling butterflies in my stomach. But soon, when I looked into your eyes, I no longer felt the same warmth that I once knew. It felt as though you had killed all of the butterflies inside my stomach but yet, I still loved you.
Premise: You and Ellie are childhood best friends until you drift apart. Funny thing about soulmates is they tend to find their way back to each other. You and Ellie try to end the tireless war between you.
Warnings: Angst / drinking / violence / not really religious mentions in this one
Part one here!
Part two here!
Part three over here!
Guys I thought I posted this two days ago but I actually just saved it to drafts. Sorry for being an idiot lmao
I think that I have unlearned how to love.
That’s not even a word but there is no other way to tell you that I have turned myself cold.
Without partying to distract me and religion to fill in gaps of emptiness, I isolate myself and begin to write once again. I'm almost certain that my body has been telling me to write, that I need to pour myself into art as opposed to a girl I was friends with a million years ago.
I figure that I need to create rather than destroy but it might take me a while to do so.
The morning after I abandoned my faith on the church floor, I had woken up and expected Ellie to be gone, however, she was wide awake and playing subway surfers on her phone. Her hair is messy and her eyes are half-lidded. 
She turns to look at me when she feels the shuffling of the bedsheets; despite her doing nothing more than smile at me it is like an understanding passed between us, war is over.
Almost.
It's like I've forgotten how to be soft, I can't manage to get the words out that I need to, and the thought of it alone makes me cringe. "Breakfast?" I ask, unsure of what else to say.
Ellie passes on it and I awkwardly excuse myself, saying that I got called in to take a brunch shift at work. Of course, this is not true. What I do is get into my car and drive and drive until I get mad at myself for burning gas. 
The war between Ellie and I had ended but it didn't register in my head, I almost fell in love with it. Without the constant arguing and passive aggressiveness, there was nothing to put a wall between us and I wasn't ready to be vulnerable again. 
So I begin to feed Ellie the ugliest parts of me; I show her everything I'm sure she will hate but she doesn't, she's patient and shows me the kindness I have been looking everywhere for. Still, I am cold to her, I don't know what else to do. 
I try to push her away all over again but this time, she doesn't let me. Ellie comes into my room when I'm studying to sit on my bed so that she can be in proximity to me. Sometimes she'll ask me if I want to go for a walk or a late-night gas station run, all of the things we used to do.
When I'm angry at her, she lets it happen, she won't escalate the fight all she does is apologize and does what she can to fix it. Everything feels like it's in order again, Joel even starts to send me little text messages to check in on me and sends me Facebook memes that make him think of me.
As of now, we are setting up for Dina's twenty-first birthday. The living room, typically a space for casual gatherings and movie nights, had undergone a transformation. Vibrant streamers adorned the walls, and an array of balloons in assorted hues scattered themselves along the floor "Are balloons too childish?" Abby asks as she walks out of her bedroom.
"They better not be after I just spent half an hour doing all of these," Cat answers, giving her a scornful glare.
"They look great, Cat," I smile and give her a thumbs-up from where I am in the kitchen dumping bags of chips into bowls. "Should I make a veggie platter?"
Cat furrows her eyebrows "If you can finish it by yourself, sure."
"Cat, we aren't children, adults eat vegetables," Abby takes a seat on the couch behind Cat, investigating the hard work she's put into making the living room look nice for just one night "Isn't it weird that Dina is organizing her own surprise party?"
I shrug, placing a wooden cutting board down on the kitchen counter "I don't blame her, I don't think we've always been one hundred percent reliable, me specifically."
"But it's not a surprise if she knows about it."
"So?" Cat asks.
"So why are we calling it a surprise party if it isn't a surprise?"
"Why not?"
"Well, why can't we just call it a party?"
"I don't think it matters," I cut in, I begin to peel carrots and slice them up into quarters. Ellie comes out of her bedroom, she took a nap after completing her physics presentation, her hair in a messy bun, and she's in her typical pyjama uniform of sweats and a hoodie. "Hey, Ellie," I smile at her.
She rubs some sleep away from her green eyes "Hey," Ellie walks over to the kitchen island where I slice and chop vegetables and sits right in front of me. Even half asleep she looks like a statue of marble carved by a skilled hand.
Abby raises an eyebrow, asking 'When did you guys become friends?' without saying it and then it hits me like the plane in Lost. Ellie still hasn't told anyone about our history, our sixteen years of friendship is invisible to the eyes of those who think they know us well.
I'm broken from my thoughts when Abby speaks up "When are you picking up the cake?"
My heart drops "I'm not?"
Cat and Abby cast one another side glances while Ellie snatches a cucumber off my cutting board "Dina was handing out duties and you said you would take care of the cake."
I freeze, unsure of what to say "Nuh-uh." I shake my head like a child denying blame for breaking her mother's favourite dish.
"Yuh-huh," Cat shoots back. "How could you forget that?"
My mind fumbles for an excuse and somehow I land on "I forgot because I went temporarily insane from Lyme disease," What am I saying? "I got Lyme disease because I go camping in secret," I don't camp "And I never told you guys that I go camping because I'm deeply ashamed of it."
Now everyone looks perpetually confused, Ellie included "What are you talking about?" Abby asks, her eyebrows furrowed.
"Okay-well," I place my knife flat on the counter by the wooden cutting board, ignoring the odd spiel I just went on "I'm going to drive to-
"You dropped your car off for a suspension repair yesterday," Abby reminds me.
"Ellie is going to drive me to get a cake," I correct myself "I will be back to finish making my veggie plate." I quickly rinse my hands before grabbing Ellie's keys from the little jewelry dish on the island and yank the sleeve of her hoodie to pull her along.
Ellie doesn't say anything, she slips into some Crocs and we walk outside to her car. "Where are we headed?"
"Uh, hang on," In Ellie's passenger seat, I go on Google Maps to look up the closest bakeries that are still open at this hour, there are two, one a couple of streets away and the other one is across town and closing in twenty minutes. "Infectious Confections," I wrinkle my nose "That's a weird fucking name."
While Ellie tries to make conversation in the car I only speak when giving her directions to the bakery. She knows something is up and I can tell by the way she keeps glancing at me. I just can't manage to get it out of my head that she's still keeping me a secret. 
She pulls up to the bakery and I get out before she even turns her car off, she pulls the keys out of the ignition and trails behind me through the doors.
The bakery itself was rustic and clean, there were two display cases and tills one of the displays held danishes, croissants, cookies, scones and whatever those little swirly flakey things are called. The other display had a big chalk menu above it that read 'Cakery' Though what was in the display case was very sparse.  
"Hi," I walk up to the till, putting on the friendly smile and customer service voice that I usually only use at work. "This is pretty short notice but I was wondering if you had any cakes left or if I could get one made for today?"
The guy behind the counter is a scrawny teenager who looks like he has had a long enough day of dealing with annoying customers "We close in half an hour, there's not enough time to bake and decorate a cake." He explains it like he's said this to a million people, he's bored of the same phrases that his manager has scripted out for him.
"Any shot that someone didn't pick up their cake?" I ask, fingers crossed in the hope that he says yes.
"Let me talk to my manager," His voice drags on, and he turns around and disappears through a commercial kitchen door. I wait patiently, hands balled together in front of me as I rock back and forth on my heels. A minute or two later he comes back holding a bright blue cake with pink detailing of bows and mustaches, there's text on it that reads 'It's a...' gender reveal cake. "This is all we have left, they cancelled last minute.
I look back at Ellie to get her opinion, her eyebrows are furrowed slightly "Maybe we good just get some of those cupcakes and smush them together and smear the icing so it looks like a cake."
I wave her off "I'll buy it," I say this only because it is 5:41 and with each passing minute I am growing desperate, also I don't want Jesse to be disappointed that I fumbled the cake and ruined his girlfriend's birthday.
Angsty teenager puts the bright blue monstrosity into a cake box and charges me an absurd total for it, I bitterly tap my card on the machine. 
As I walk back out to Ellie's car I take a brief moment to look at the sky, it's the same hue as cotton candy and looks as if it had been projected from a watercolour painting, even after I get back into the car and Ellie begins to blast her old dad rock songs, I can't tear my eyes away from it.
After five minutes of silence from my end, Ellie finally asks the question that's been burning into the forefront of her brain "Why are you being weird?"
"Why haven't you told anyone that we met before we moved in together?"
Her dark eyebrows furrow "You haven't told anyone either-
"Yes, I have."
"Who?"
"Yara, Stacy, Kayla, Mitch, Nigel, Carmen, literally everyone from my work," I admit "I just haven't told people who know you personally so it can't make its way back to you because you clearly don't want people to know."
She falls silent, searching her mind for the right words. She clutches the steering wheel tight and looks dead ahead at the car's bumper-to-bumper ahead of us. "I just know how to slip it into conversation."
"I don't think it's that hard, you can just say that we were friends, you don't need to give an intricate play-by-play of everything that happened."
"Why is it important that people know if we're cool again?"
I turn my head to slowly look at her "You are the one who always said 'If we don't have honesty, we have nothing at all'," I point out.
Silence strings between us again, I almost want to throw up.
'We're cool again' Nope, not anymore, we are so very far from cool. Instead of Ellie casting me little glances as she had on the ride there, she ignores my presence almost completely while I glare daggers at her. Was she embarrassed by me? When we went to lunch together why did she lie to Dina about where she was? When she slept in my bed why did Cat ask me if I knew why Ellie came home at eight AM with nothing, not even a key? Did she crawl through my bedroom window to walk around to the front door and pretend she was just getting home?
AND WHY DIDN'T I CALL HER OUT?
She was keeping me a secret and that realization hurt worse than any injury I had ever suffered. She hasn't even told her dead who practically raised me that we lived together. 
God, we weren't even anything and she was keeping me under wraps like I was some disgraceful secret that she would get shamed for holding. The very second she approached our house, I got out of her car, she hadn't even stopped it completely but cake in hand, I hopped out of her car door and didn't look back.
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I think I've had my fair share of partying.
After that month-long bender I had where I went to clubs every night and replaced food with vodka, I never wanted to even look at another solo cup full of liquor. Instead of drinking, smoking, or doing karaoke, I hide from Ellie.
I hide from her in conversations and sometimes sneak into my bedroom just to get a bit of breathing room from all of the strangers in my house. Wherever Ellie was, I was not. If she was outside, I was inside, if she was in the living room, I was in the kitchen enjoying my veggie platter. 
Have you ever been the only sober person around in a group of people? If the answer is no, have you ever babysat a houseful of toddlers? Because it's just about the same thing.
When I'm not hiding from the girl who wriggled her way back into my good graces just to trip herself off the podium, I'm cleaning up, protecting our furniture, holding back hair as girls I've never met sob into the toilet, and stopping the drunk from doing stupid things. 
"Hey, buddy," I take my can of hairspray that this frat-adjacent man is holding behind an ignited lighter "I don't think you would look good as a burn victim," His friends moan in disappointment as I do so, they were very excited to see a makeshift flamethrower; I wasn't in the mood to have my house burn down, or have a guy with peach fuzz waste my thirty dollar hair spray. 
Thirty dollars?
Note to self for later: Make smarter spending choices (And smarter relationship choices!).
I felt a tap on my shoulder only to turn around and see Dina, she wasn't drunk, just tipsy "Smile!" She holds up a camera to her eye and clicks the shudder button before I even have a chance to react the flash goes off. A large Polaroid begins to print out, Dina snatches it and shakes it until you can see my silhouette, my eyes are wide, my hair flying behind me from the quick turn of my head and I'm holding a can of hairspray angled to look like I'm going to spray the camera with it "Cute!" She smiles, tucking it into her pocket for later "Wait, I want a group picture of the roommates."
Dina takes my hand and pulls me to one of the couches where Ellie and Abby sit with some guy, she shoes him to get up and drags Cat over to replace him, she stands me in between Ellie and Abby and lightly pushes me down to sit wedged between the two.
"Jesse, please do not do me dirty with this picture," She hands the pink Polaroid camera to her boyfriend and quickly ushers herself to the far left of the couch where she bends over to kiss Cat on the cheek for the picture. Ellie and I are stiff and awkward when the flash goes off. 
After the picture is taken, Ellue turns to face me just the slightest "Hey, I think we should talk-
"I think it's time for cake!" I push myself off the couch and usher myself to the kitchen. 
I pull the cake out of the fridge, looking at what I had done to salvage it; Below the part that said 'It's a...' I wrote '21 year old!' in chocolate pre-made Betty Crocker icing that I had in the fridge for months, it didn't look the best, but it could've been worse.
Dina, of course, cackles when she sees it. To her, it is the funniest thing she's seen all night. I stick the candles in and light it with the light I confiscated from peach fuzz frat boy and push the cake towards Dina after tucking the light back into my pocket, she is illuminated in the glow of iPhone flash all filming her.
"Make a wish!"
Age Sixteen- Grade 11
I think back to how embarrassing it felt to be thoughtful.
How fragile I felt when I would share my feelings and how frail I seem when I do it now. Ellie was always tougher than I was, in rugby, in fights, just in general. That's why I figured she would be taking it better than me when I cut contact, once again I have been proven wrong.
"Conner, can we please just leave?" I pleaded with my then-boyfriend. The night had started fine but after a couple of drinks Ellie and I were becoming increasingly hostile to one another, it wasn't my intention to speak to her but the universe forced my hand when we were shoved into a circle of our friends and made to converse around the bonfire at the beach.
The salty breeze carried the sounds of laughter and the gentle crashing of waves, the scent of roasted marshmallows wafted through the air.
 "What, you need your boyfriend's permission or something?" Ellie held a can of berry blast Smirnoff, staring into my soul from the other side of the fire, the sparks glitter through the night like fireflies. Her words don't feel too bad but they don't feel too good either.
I cast her a glare before I looked back to my boyfriend "Please?" 
He is getting perpetually annoyed with me he shrugs away from my grasp, "Fuck off, we just got here," He mutters, Conner must think I couldn't hear it. He had already downed three Bud lights and a couple of shots of cheap vodka, now he is nursing another beer in hand. 
"Excuse me?" I say, narrowing my eyes. Everyone around the fire pauses their conversation to tune into mine. "Come on," I stand up and try to pull him along so we can have a conversation away from the prying eyes of our friends.
I can't pull the mass of the 6'2 quarterback along with me but he obliges and follows me where I yank him. As I drag him along the rest of the group giggle and makes jokes along the lines of 'Trouble in paradise' but Ellie is the only one who doesn't jump back into mindless conversation, her unnerving eyes are still on me while I chew my boyfriend out by the shoreline. 
"Why do I have to leave just because you're feeling a little bummed out?" 
I'm almost floored at out someone can lack so much empathy "Because you're my boyfriend?" I can feel myself tensing up.
"Why does that mean you can't get up and leave on your own?" He defends "You begged me to come here and now I just wanna down a couple of beers and hang out with my friends."
"You've already drank like twenty!" I retort.
"It's a fucking party!" Conner says, raising his voice "It's a party and it's summer and you're seriously trying to tell me not to have fun?"
"Fuck!" I shout in frustration "Why don't you ever call me? Why can't you ever let me in?" The argument is quickly escalating "Why didn't you tell me that you kissed Tamar and why haven't you told me that you love me?"
"Because I don't."
My words fail me. I knew he didn't, I knew that he hardly even liked me. My dad had thought so highly of him, she said he was the type of guy to rescue a baby from a burning building but as I look at him now, I figure that he eats babies.
I almost open my mouth to say something different, almost, but I don't. The rest of my life might have turned out differently if I didn't, I might've been able to salvage the rotting corpse of my relationship with Ellie but I didn't. "Fine," I say, voice calm and quiet "Let's stay."
Before that night I had never really gotten drunk but the second I got back to the bonfire, I was digging through the cooler and shotgunning canned Smirnoff. "Woah," Riley laughs "Someone's finally being a bad influence."
I got myself so shit-faced that when everyone else got up to dance to the music blaring through the Bluetooth speaker, I sat by myself at the shoreline, looking bitterly out towards to ocean while the tides crash at my feet and get sucked back into the ocean. For a moment I think about jumping in and letting my lax body get washed away and sink beneath the surface until I wash up as a water-bloated corpse that some nine-year-old will find when they're beach combing.
My mouth tastes like peroxide and blood, my lungs burn with a red-hot pain. The wind is becoming increasingly harsh and I ignore the hair that is tangled into my golden hoop earrings.
"Wow, you look awful," I don't need to turn around to know who it is.
"Can you just fuck off?" I say "I don't give a shit about you, just leave me alone."
She always had to antagonize me, Ellie went out of her way to stray from the group and bother me. It had something to do with the alcohol in her system. Despite her alleged hatred for me, she takes a seat next to me regardless.
"Fuck, you're so sensitive," She scoffs "I don't know why you're dating him, I'm not even sure why you'd want to fuck him unless you're too lazy to jerk off-
My hands think before my head and I deck Ellie right in the side of her face, getting a solid hit to her cheekbone. My hand flies over my mouth "I'm sorry, I-
Ellie doesn't waste any time in lunging back at me, she pushes me down by my shoulders until my back is in the shallow of the water that moments ago just splashed at my feet and takes a swing. The impact of her punch almost knocks me sober.
I take a sharp inhale, grabbing her elbows and pulling her down to where she was the one on her back and I was the one straddling her. I land one last blow to her nose, I hear a crunch and the panic immediately sends me scrambling to my feet. My eyes go wide at the blood dripping down, her face I turn to run but Ellie is faster, she grabs me by my hair and yanks me down further into the water with her. 
"Fucking cunt!" I cry, though my scream is drowned out by the overwhelmingly loud tides crashing on the shore "Get the fuck off me!" 
Ellie is better at fighting than I am, I had never been on this side of her before, usually, I had been the one to drag her away from fights but now I am the one who is going to stumble home numb from the devastating pain.
Frankly, I'm fucking scared.
She continues to drag me by my hair until I'm knee-deep in the water with her, she almost throws her entire weight into me, dunking me beneath the surface where her bony hands snake around my neck. My eyes have gone blurry with the salt water, they sting and burn. I can't see anything, all I can do is uselessly thrash beneath her. My hands push against her face, trying to pry her off my body. 
Eventually, I manage to claw her face with my fingernails, I dig deep enough that it breaks skin and she recoils just enough for me to knee her in the stomach and let me get out from under her. Just as I try to slip away she reaches for my hair again, but instead of tugging on my hair, she rips out my gold hoop earring. I screech out in agony, hand reaching for where the metal sliced through the lobe of my ear, I shudder in pain; my cries are now jagged and harsh.
This is the exact moment Ellie begins to regret what she's done. "Fuck, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to." Her tone softens and she tries to approach me but I back away from her like a frightened dog.
"Get away from me!" Despite the pain surging in my body, I find the strength in me to hit her again, she staggers back tripping into the water. I hit her so hard that I feel a crack in my knuckle and I yelp out in the immediate shock of pain. 
I wasn't sure when the others had noticed this was happening probably because my vision had gone blurry from salt water and adrenaline but before Ellie could hit me again, she was being restrained by Riley and Kennedy while some guy who I had probably had two conversations with dragged my back to shore.
I keel over on my hands and knees and begin to start retching onto the sand. Laila rubs a gentle hand on my back, my hair sticking wet on my forehead. A seagull, disturbed by the commotion, took flight, its wings cutting through the charged air. 
Next to the pile of vomit I just heaved, blood drips down from my ear, pooling and then soaking into the sand. My neck swells from what is still the raw sensation of Ellie closing her hands around it. 
I look up at Ellie, there is blood that has dripped its way into her mouth, clinging to her white teeth. She has what almost looks like a cat scratch running down her cheek, blood begins to prick and spill from the lacerations.
She stares back at me and we don't say a word but we understand each other clearly, I never want to see you again.
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"Let's go," Ellie grabs my arm as Dina begins to slice the cake "We're gonna fix this right now."
"Ellie, there are so many people here," I say in a hushed tone so people can't hear me.
"I don't mean here," She looks at me, face expressionless "Just get in my car."
"Excuse me?" I say, tone accusing "Did you just order me to get in your car?"
"Fuck," She sighs, dropping my wrist to rub her hands down her face "Please can you get in my car so we can work this through."
"There's nothing to work through," I retort "You're embarrassed by me or you still secretly hate me and that's fine, I meant what I said on winter break about the lease, the second it's up, I'm getting the fuck out of here."
"What? No, don't- just," She takes a breath, reevaluating what to say "I have a point to make but I can't make it unless you get in my car."
We stare at each other for a moment, I narrow my eyes and she is still unmoving. Every scenario runs through my head of what could be waiting for me in that car.
"Fine."
I sit silently in her passenger seat, my knees are pulled into my chest and I rest my chin on them. Ellie doesn't say anything either as she drives. I watch each traffic light pass me, every street name to try and make sense of where we are going.
I almost feel like I'm going to suffocate beneath the silence of everything going left unsaid.
When I spot the boardwalk up ahead, I know exactly where she's taking me "Ellie, why are we at the beach?" I give her a side glance "Do I need to take out my earrings?"
Heat rises to her cheeks when I say this, "Not yet," She jokes, getting out of her car and grabbing a tote bag from the back seat, and I follow in tow.
We walk past the boardwalk and onto the sandy beach, I'm already not feeling whatever she's doing; there is sand filling up my Converse and a slight wind chill, I'm really wishing I had a hoodie right now. "Can you tell me what we're doing yet?" I'm hugging myself in an attempt to stay warm "If we're still walking on the beach why couldn't we have just walked on the boardwalk instead? It literally has walk in the name." I'm already going off on one of my tangents.
She still walking ahead of me but she briefly turns around to face me "Can you just stop asking questions for a minute?"
"Okay, whatever," I mutter, trailing behind her still. I can hardly see in the night, the only light to guide us is the moon and the warm ceiling lamps from restaurants along the boardwalk. I can vaguely see Ellie's silhouette, she's outlined by the gentle glow radiating off the moon, I try my best not to stumble over things poking out of the sand that have been lost to sight by darkness. 
"Okay," Ellie stops, "Here we are."
"Where are we?" I ask "I can't see shit, I don't know where here is."
Ellie digs around in her pocket for her phone and turns on a flashlight and it reveals a small iron firepit that was cemented into a slab of concrete in the sand. She hands me her phone so I can keep the flash on her and she can see what she's doing. 
She pulls out some pages ripped out from her notebook "Can you hand me your lighter?"
My eyebrows furrowed, and I felt around in my pocket wondering if I even had one. I did, it had slipped my mind that I still had the bic lighter that I confiscated from Peach Fuzz. I hand the lighter to her and watch as she tucks the pages beneath logs that were in the firepit before we arrive, they are somewhat charred but still viable.
She flicks the lighter to ignite it and the paper catches immediately. The initial flicker grew into a tentative blaze, licking at the edges of the kindling. The crackling sound echoed through the night. 
Once she is sure the fire can survive without her feeding it, she steps away. "Alright, let's have it out."
"Like sex?" I scrunch up my nose.
"Oh my god, no, like let's talk this through." She pinches her nose bridge, taking a breath in before exhaling and putting her hand back down "We're gonna recreate the night of the bonfire how it should've been," Ellie reached back into her bag and pulled out two white claws "I snagged these from Dina's party, sorry this was kind of last minute."
I can't help the smile that grows on my face, I take one of the white claws and crack it open "I don't know how authentic this is gonna be if there isn't any canned Smirnoff."
I think back to exactly how that night played out and I take a seat on the sand, facing the crashing dark ocean. I sip my white claw, as expected Ellie takes a seat next to me, just what happened on the actual night.
"Wow," She says "You look really pretty and I'm an idiot for ever saying you looked awful," Ellie looks gorgeous illuminated by the orange light of the fire, and the breeze causes her flyaway hairs to drift in the wind. "I'm an asshole for pretending that I didn't know you, I was scared I would get hurt again and take it to heart like I did last time. I promise the second we get home that I'll come clean."
I don't know if I can deal with this sugary philosophy. She's being so sweet that it's rotting my teeth.
"Ellie," I say gathering my thoughts, it was so hard being honest with my feelings, it felt like I would get hospitalized if I showed any emotion. "I was so in love with you in high school that it killed me, and I was terrified that my parents would throw me out well, they did- but that's why I pushed you away and there isn't a day that goes by where I don't regret it." 
The surprise on her face morphs into a soft smile "What about now?" she asks "Do you still love me?"
I shrug, it's honest "I dunno, but I think there's room to try."
She looks from me to the ocean and the way the moonlight glitters off the surface "What happened next?" Ellie toys with the tab of her drink "Did you hit me?"
"Yeah," I say softly, following her gaze out to the waters "But if we're doing the night how it should've been, I'd rather just kiss you."
Ellie turns her head back to look at me. She shoves her white claw into the sand then takes my face into one of her hands and kisses me like it's her job, so tender and carefully like she's afraid I will break beneath pressure.
How weak have I become? My heart is so full of her that I can hardly call it my own.
A/N: Be grateful for this ending because I was very tempted to give you guys an unhappy one. Sorry that I forgot to post this lol, I’m sad this series is over but excited to show you all my next one which may be the angst-iest yet 👀
Thanks for reading!
Tag list: @elliesaturnsoftdrink @elliesaesp @melanie-watermelon @yalaysbee @laundrybag29 @readbydayana @skylerwhitwyo @lmaoo-spiderman @joliettes @kittnii @taylorgracies @sameenatruther @mikellie @belles-hell @fullmachinegirl @eveshyper @whosmica
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bellaxgiornata · 2 months
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The Devil at Your Window |4: One of the Good Ones|
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word count: 4.9k
Warnings/Tags: 18+; fluff, flirting, sexual tension, light angst, pining, eventual smut, identity reveal, and lots of black suit Matty
Series Installment List & Summary
a/n: Just a smidge of angst in this one! And I've already got a rough draft written for the next part, too! This story has been stuck in my head... Feedback is always appreciated!
Tag list: @danzer8705 @darkened-writer @keepingitlokiii @kezibear @dorothleah @sarahskywalker-amidala @1988-fiend @haruari @sleepysleepymom @marveious @sunflower-tia @fizanotfeeza
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Your arm burned from the effort with which you were currently scrubbing your kitchen counter, working hard trying to remove a stubborn stain with the sponge in your hand. On the counter just behind you, your phone was playing music as you stress-cleaned. Truthfully you were too caught up in your thoughts as you'd been frantically jumping from one task to the next to have been paying much attention to what song was currently playing, though.
You'd already vigorously deep cleaned your bathroom, scrubbing your shower hard enough to make your fingers ache. Once you'd finished in there, you'd ended up in your bedroom, finally folding the laundry basket of clothes that had been sitting in the corner of your room all week. After that, you'd changed your bedsheets before bringing the dirty ones down to the laundry facility in your building to be washed. Upon returning to your apartment, you'd begun meticulously organizing your kitchen pantry before cleaning out the kitchen sink of dirty dishes. And then you'd landed on scrubbing your counters with every intention of cleaning off your stove top next.
You'd been cleaning like crazy after you'd come home from work tonight and finished dinner because you'd had a shitty day–though really it had been a shitty week. Everything had gone absolutely wrong at the office and you'd somehow managed to make a massive mistake on a big project the other day. Thankfully today you'd corrected the error, but your anxiety over the issue hadn't remotely disappeared. And of course, Eric, the most obnoxious and irritating co-worker at your workplace, had been at the top of his game of being an absolute asshole to you about the issue all week, too. You'd admittedly had far too many daydreams of throwing your coffee on him just to shut him up these past few days.
But as if that hadn't been enough, you'd found yourself becoming increasingly upset over the realization of your growing feelings for the Devil, who you hadn't actually seen since he'd appeared injured at your place just over a week ago. You were torn between believing his absence was either because he'd been recovering from his injury–which would also explain his absence in the news lately–or that he had zero interest in continuing whatever friendship you thought you'd both been developing. And because you'd gotten your period earlier today, you'd been hormonal all week. Which meant your brain had been telling you it was because of the latter reason.
But you didn't want to think about that. It was ridiculous to have a stupid crush on him. You didn't even know the man's name or what he looked like beneath the mask. You had no clue what he did for a living, if anything at all. And you'd only seen him three times now, it's not like you'd known him for months. It was quite likely he didn't feel the same despite the flirting he'd been doing. 
So that was what your brain continued to tell you this week whenever you got upset about his lack of appearances on your fire escape. That those visits hadn’t meant anything to him. You were just another person in the city he protected. His first visit had been accidental after all. And the second time was just to return the scarf he'd borrowed. The last time he had appeared had been because you'd been a convenient safe place for him to briefly stop and recover at when he'd been hurt, nothing more. 
Though trying to repeatedly rationalize that didn't make the ache in your chest disappear. It didn't stop you coming home every night from work hoping to have another surprise visit from the mysterious vigilante before you went to bed. And it certainly didn't stop you from shedding a few pathetic tears when he continued to remain absent each night. 
You'd begun to miss him. It was impossible to deny that now. And you'd worried about how he was doing with his injury, wondering if he really was alright. Which only had you wondering more about what he was capable of if he could meditate like that because–
“It's a bit early for spring cleaning, isn't it?”
Your hand abruptly paused mid-aggressive scrub of the stain that had long since been cleaned at the sound of the familiar and unexpected voice cutting through your thoughts. Eyes growing wide, you spun on your bare feet to find the Devil standing on the other side of your kitchen counter with a grin on his lips beneath that black mask.
“It's only February,” he teased. “Spring is still another few weeks away. Maybe show your counter a little mercy before you wear a hole in it.”
Hand gripping the soapy sponge tighter, you felt your heart nearly fly up into your throat in excitement. Because he'd come back . 
“You're here,” you breathed out.
“Yeah,” he replied. He gestured a gloved hand back towards the window behind himself. “You left that unlocked, so I may have just invited myself inside since you didn't seem to respond to my knocking. I hope you don't mind.”
You shook your head quickly, still surprised to see he'd actually returned. It felt like someone had loosed a multitude of butterflies in your stomach at the sight of him standing there so casually in your apartment once again. It was something you'd missed all week.
“No, that's alright,” you told him, shaking your head. “I don't mind.”
“You should really keep it locked though,” he stated. “Literally anyone could just climb in here. That's not exactly safe.”
Still trying to shake off the surprise of his visit as you took a step forward, turning off your music, a nervous laugh slipped out of you. “I think you're the only one crazy enough to climb all the way up that rickety fire escape,” you replied.
You turned, heading over towards your kitchen sink in the hopes of busying yourself with washing your hands so he wouldn't see the embarrassing grin steadily growing on your face. 
“I think you might be surprised with what the criminals will do in this city,” he countered.
“Well that's…unsettling,” you muttered, turning off the faucet and drying your hands on the nearby kitchen towel. “With the way my week has been going though I suppose it would be my luck that someone probably would climb through my window. Someone other than you, I mean.”
You set the towel back on the hook near your sink, turning around only to find the Devil had stepped around the counter and into your kitchen. He was standing a few feet away, his head tilted curiously to the side. How the hell did he always manage to move so quietly?
“You're having a bad week?” he asked. “Is that why everything smells like lemon cleaner in here and why you were scrubbing your counter so hard you couldn’t hear me knocking on the window?”
Clasping your hands together in front of yourself, you fidgeted awkwardly with your fingers. Now that your hands weren't busy with an actual task you were feeling your anxious thoughts beginning to spiral again. Especially because it was only Thursday night and you still had to go into work tomorrow and deal with Eric and everyone else when all you desperately wanted to do was crawl into bed for the duration of the weekend and pretend this week never happened. 
“What's wrong, angel?” the Devil asked softly.
You glanced up at the sound of the name he’d called you just before he left your apartment last time, watching as he took another step towards you. You sniffled lightly, trying to ignore the confusing and conflicting feelings arising inside of you at the nickname. The smile disappeared from his lips, his mouth instead pulling a bit downwards at the corners. Swallowing hard, you waved a dismissive hand at him.
“Nothing, things are good,” you lied. “I'm fine.”
The frown visibly deepened on his face before he took another step closer. “Someone who's fine doesn't generally deep clean their place on a random Thursday evening,” he pointed out. “And it seems like you've been on the verge of tears for a bit now. What's going on?”
You swallowed hard, wondering how he could’ve possibly known that when he’d only just entered your apartment. Yet another one of his mysterious little powers, you figured.
“Nothing,” you answered. “Really, I’m good. I just got into a random cleaning frenzy. It happens.”
The Devil’s head canted further to the side, his lips thinning along his face. He shook his head slowly, taking another cautious step towards you.
“You’re not fine,” he replied. “And for the record, I know when someone is lying, angel.”
You sighed, wrapping your arms around your chest and trying to ignore the way your stomach twisted nervously at that name again. Surely it was meant to be more of a joke than a term of endearment considering you always called him Devil.
“Another useful skill of yours?” you asked curiously. “Like your ability to heal?”
Briefly a smirk slid over his mouth, one you caught just before it disappeared. Your eyes narrowed suspiciously back at him.
“Something like that,” he answered. “So believe me when I say that I’m not buying the line that you’re okay. What happened?”
Eyes darting down, your nails began to pick at your sweatshirt nervously. The memory of your boss chewing you out at work the other day resurfaced in your mind, quickly followed by one of Eric’s heartless comments to you afterwards. The continual disappointment of an empty fire escape night after night before you went to bed also reared its head, tears starting to sting at your eyes at the memory of those lonely nights. Blinking rapidly, you tried to stop the tears from coming.
You did not want to cry in front of the Devil.
“Nothing,” you muttered, shrugging your shoulders. “It’s all stupid in comparison to what you’re usually dealing with anyway, so don’t worry about it.”
“Hey,” he murmured, closing the remaining distance between you and gently grabbing your shoulders, lowering his masked face into your line of sight. “It’s not a competition.”
His light, reassuring touch only had the tears welling up faster in your eyes. It had been so long since someone had touched you like that. With comfort and care. A touch that made you feel both safe and seen. And here he was doing it with such ease, like you deserved that sort of attention–and from him no less. 
It suddenly became all too much. A single tear slipped out of the corner of your eye as you gazed up at his face half-obscured by that mask, unable to blink it back before it made its way down your cheek. The Devil’s hands carefully began pulling you in towards himself barely a second later. Surprised at his response, your arms remained wrapped around yourself as his arms slowly encircled your shoulders.
He was hugging you. Comforting you.
Somehow that managed to open the floodgates to your emotions, the tears beginning to spill down your cheeks hot and wet in a continuous stream that you couldn't seem to control. Your hands gripped your sweatshirt tighter, unsure if you should hug him in return or not. Instead, you pressed your face into the thin fabric of his black shirt, attempting to hide how fast the tears were flowing from his sight.
You weren’t exactly sure why you were even crying at this point, either. Was it because of the shitty week you’d had? Because of the gentle touch and compassion coming from the masked vigilante, a touch that you hadn’t felt since you'd last been in a relationship? Was it because of the fact that him holding you like this only stirred up those confusing feelings further inside of you, making you wonder what this weird relationship with the Devil actually was? Or was it just because you were hormonal and on your period?
“I'm sorry,” you choked out.
“Don't apologize,” he replied instantly.
The smokey voice he always used had your fingers twisting tighter around your sweatshirt, your heart beating a little harder at the sound of it so soft beside your ear. You shifted, burying your face further against his chest. Though guilt quickly filled you as you cried. Because he shouldn't be comforting you, not for something so foolish. Not when there were people out there who actually needed him and all you'd had was a bad week, some out of control hormones, and a stupid crush.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked. “Is there something I can do to help?”
You shook your head, begging the tears to stop falling. This was embarrassing. You didn't want him to see you like this, let alone be comforting you.
“No,” you whispered. 
You have better things to be doing with your time , you thought bitterly. I don't deserve the comfort.
Clenching your jaw, you took an abrupt step back from him. You raised an arm up, using the sleeve of your sweatshirt to aggressively wipe the dampness from your cheeks. Before you, the Devil stood with his arms still hovering in the air as if he was still holding you, seemingly confused about you withdrawing from his embrace so suddenly. There was a large wet spot from your tears soaking the front of his black shirt already.
“I'm sorry, that was embarrassing,” you muttered, still wiping at your eyes as the tears gradually slowed. “I know you don't want to be dealing with an emotional mess tonight. That's not what the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen does.”
“Who says it's not what I do?” he countered, his arms lowering back to his sides. “I'm here to help people who need it–and for the record,” he added, “crying does not make you an emotional mess. Trust me on that.”
“Well,” you began, sniffling a little, “my problems aren’t the type you can punch. And you can't exactly punch away my feelings. Or my hormones. So I think this is a little out of your usual wheelhouse.”
“Maybe so,” he agreed, “but you've helped me plenty of times now. Is it wrong for me to want to return the favor?”
So that's why he was comforting you. A sort of quid pro quo. Tit for tat. An exchange of favors, not because he'd genuinely cared about what had happened to you this week and would have offered to help anyway, but because he felt like he owed you something in return. That's what he was saying, wasn’t it? 
“I don't help you because I want anything in return,” you muttered, turning around and wiping the sleeve of your sweatshirt across your eyes once again. Afterwards, you reached up into a nearby cabinet and grabbed a clean glass from out of it. “I help you because I worry about you out there. And because I think you're one of the good ones.”
You closed the cabinet door before focusing on the faucet in front of you, filling the glass with cool water. Sniffling softly, you felt the tears beginning to slow to a stop as you tried to collect yourself. You’d cry about your misplaced feelings later when he wasn’t here. Right now you just wanted to enjoy his company and not scare him off with your tears. And maybe make sure he was doing alright himself tonight.
Once the glass was full, you turned off the faucet and inhaled a trembling breath, attempting to steel your resolve. You were not going to cry anymore tonight. 
“For what it's worth,” the Devil said from behind you, “I think you're one of the good ones.”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes and shaking your head at his comment, your back still facing him. Now that sounded like a line.
“I’m serious,” he continued. “How many people would help a vigilante instead of turning him over to the police? And how many would just ignore him entirely? And here you are inviting me into your home multiple times now without question. Always offering whatever form of assistance you can when you certainly don't need to.”
Eyes dropping down to the full glass in your hands, you felt your heart flutter in your chest at his kind words. Clearing your throat, you tried to swallow the lump that had begun to form. “I think you vastly underestimate what you mean to the people in this city, Devil,” you whispered.
Gradually you turned back around, the glass of water clutched between both of your hands. His lips were once again pulled in a straight line across his face, his head faintly tilted to the side. 
“You're a symbol of hope to many in Hell’s Kitchen,” you said softly, extending the glass out towards him. “A sign that there’s still good in the world. That there are still people who care about helping those in need.”
You could see the muscles working in his cheeks, the corner of his lips twitching faintly. You wondered what expression he was making beneath the mask right now. Was he not aware of what he meant to this city?
“Here,” you said, holding the glass out further towards him. “Drink it. I’m sure you’re dehydrated.”
The Devil’s right hand flexed open and shut at his side for a moment, your eyes drawn to the movement. After a minute's hesitation you saw it raise, reaching out to carefully accept the glass of water from your own hand. He murmured a soft ‘thanks’ as he drew it up towards his lips. In silence you watched the bob of his throat as he drank almost half the glass immediately, a satisfied smile eventually landing on your face. 
“You hungry?” you asked, stepping around him and heading over to your fridge. “I have spaghetti leftover from dinner tonight. Unfortunately no garlic bread,” you grumbled, opening the door of your fridge. “Because my week was apparently so bad that I even forgot to grab garlic bread at the store.”
“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine,” he assured you.
Half bent in front of your fridge, you glanced over your shoulder, shooting him a flat look. “Are you planning to go home and eat something before you go to sleep tonight?” you asked him. “From the fridge you have apparently only stocked with beer, eggs, and sometimes orange juice?”
He hung his head in defeat, his gaze behind the mask appearing to drop to the floor. It looked like he was fighting back a grin on his face.
“Well…no,” he admitted sheepishly.
“Right,” you said, focus returning to the contents of your fridge. “So do you eat spaghetti? Because I have plenty.”
“If you’re that determined to feed me, yes,” he answered. “I do.”
Reaching into your fridge, you pulled out the container of leftovers that you’d put away earlier this evening before you’d begun meticulously stress cleaning. You closed the door, bringing the container over to your counter and setting it down before searching for a clean bowl and a fork.
“So how’s your rib doing?” you asked as you worked. “Did your doctor friend tell you it was broken? Have you somehow meditated it back to normal already with that useful ‘skill’ of yours?”
The Devil chuckled good-naturedly behind you as you began scooping some pasta into a bowl for him. Internally you thought it strange that he found that somehow funny, though that warmth of pleasure filled you at once again still being able to make him laugh.
“She's a nurse, not a doctor, and that's hard to say,” he answered. “I’d need an x-ray to know if I had actually broken it, and I can’t exactly go to a hospital because they’d surely call the authorities on me. But either way, it’s feeling better than that night I was last here. Not completely healed with my ‘skill,’ but the pain is…tolerable.”
You stopped mid-scoop of some pasta, your head turning over your shoulder towards him. Quirking a brow at him, you shot him a quizzical look. 
“The pain is ‘tolerable’?” you asked him. “So you mean to tell me you’re still going around tonight scaling buildings and jumping off fire escapes with an injury that’s not even fully healed?”
The Devil shrugged a shoulder nonchalantly, shooting you a charming smile. “Yeah,” he answered. “Something is almost always injured or hurting. But it's not like crime ever takes a night off. So usually neither do I.”
Sighing, you focused back on scooping pasta into the bowl for him. “I'm starting to worry about your sanity,” you half-joked. “You know, I've always wondered why you do what you do. I don't suppose you'd answer that truthfully, would you?”
Picking up the bowl, you stepped over towards your microwave and set it inside. Setting the timer to heat it up, you turned around and leant your back against the counter, crossing your arms over your chest as you eyed him expectantly. 
The Devil shook his head, a faint smile on his mouth. “No, not right now,” he answered. “But maybe someday I could answer that for you.”
Hugging your arms tighter around yourself, you tried to hide the thrill that shot through you at his answer. The prospect of him continuing to visit you was clearly layered in his response and you couldn't even begin to explain how that made you suddenly feel.
“Always so mysterious,” you muttered nervously, glancing down at your feet.
“Don't suppose you'd ever give me your name, would you?” he countered.
You grinned, glancing up at him from beneath your lashes as the microwave hummed behind you. “I'll tell you mine when you tell me yours, Devil,” you replied. 
“So mysterious ,” he teased back, grinning. 
You tried to bite back the smile growing on your face, laughing softly. The grin only grew wider on his face and your cheeks began to heat at the sight. You could feel your heart beating a little faster as you watched him from across the kitchen, taking in the handsome shape of his mouth and feeling the nervous churning of your stomach beginning to increase at the comfortable silence that fell over you both.
Thankfully your microwave beeped a moment later, pulling you from the moment that surely would have only resulted in you further ogling him, wondering what he looked like beneath the mask. Turning around, you opened the microwave and removed the bowl of spaghetti. You set it back onto the counter, mixing it around with a fork to make sure the entire bowl had been thoroughly heated. Satisfied that it was warm, you picked up the bowl and carried it over to the Devil. 
“You can have a seat at the table if you want,” you offered, holding the bowl out to him.
You gestured your other hand to the small circular table just outside of your kitchen. The Devil accepted the bowl of pasta from you, looking somewhat over his shoulder where you'd gestured. 
“Thank you,” he replied. 
You watched as he twirled a handful of noodles onto his fork immediately, bringing it up to his mouth before he'd even began to make his way towards your table. It was obvious he was hungry with the way he'd shoveled the bite into his mouth–just like when he'd devoured that burrito–and that satisfied smile returned to your face. Even if you'd messed up a lot of things this week, at least you'd managed to do something helpful for him. And that felt good.
You'd been about to turn around and put away the container of leftovers still sitting out on your counter when you saw him suddenly freeze, his entire body tensing. Your own body froze as you watched him chew the bite of food so slowly, your stomach sinking to the floor.
“What?” you asked cautiously, feeling self-conscious and on the verge of tears again. Had you actually somehow messed this up, too? “Is it…not good? I mean I know I'm not the best cook or anything, but I thought I was decent at making spaghetti sauce. It's not that complicated.”
The Devil swallowed the bite of spaghetti, his body still stiff as he stood there. His hand had tightened around the fork in the bowl as he remained silent, which only had your nerves growing. The feeling of being a failure once again this week was suddenly bearing down heavily on you. Was there nothing you could do right this week?
“Look, if it doesn't taste any good you don't need to eat it,” you told him, taking a step closer and reaching for the bowl. “Apparently I just can't manage anything this week. Just one of those weeks I gu–”
“This tastes exactly like the spaghetti my dad used to make,” the Devil whispered in disbelief.
Your hand hovered in the air reaching out for the bowl, your mouth hanging open at what he'd told you. That certainly hadn't been the reaction you'd expected. 
“Wh–what?” you stammered out.
The Devil pointed at the bowl of pasta with the fork in his hand, something like amazement creeping into his voice as he focused on you. When he spoke again, you'd noticed that raspy, deep voice he always used had disappeared.
“The sauce,” he told you, his words gradually picking up speed as he spoke. “It tastes exactly like the spaghetti sauce my dad used to make when I was a kid. I–I haven't tasted anything quite so similar since he passed when I was young. The likeness is incredible.”
You could feel the heavy pounding of your heart in your chest at yet another little piece of the real man beneath the mask being revealed to you. Mouth opening and closing a few times, you quickly realized you didn't know how to respond. Was he going to run away on you now that he'd let another little personal detail slip? Especially considering it looked like he was also realizing what he'd just told you and was beginning to regret it.
“I'm–I'm sorry to hear about your father,” you managed out.
The Devil continued to stare at you over the bowl of spaghetti in his hands, his lips pressing together as his mouth began to twitch. It was as if he didn't quite know what to say himself, but the longer he remained quiet, his jaw grinding back and forth, the more fearful you became that he was going to bolt back out of your window for accidentally revealing more personal information about himself to you. 
Slowly you held up your hands in front of yourself like one might do to a scared animal, hoping not to scare him further. The Devil didn't move, but his jaw visibly tensed at the gesture. 
“Look, I'm not about to tell anyone that you come here sometimes,” you told him. “And I don't go digging around on the internet trying to find out who you really are with the vague information I have, mostly because I don't have that level of motivation, if I'm being honest.” You saw the corner of his lips twitch upwards at your comment and you cautiously lowered your hands back to your sides. “I just want to help. That's all,” you continued. “And personally I worry that if I scare you off, you'll end up out there starving and with kidney damage from constantly not drinking enough water while you're out parkouring around the city.”
“You're worried about my kidneys now?” he asked, amusement in his tone. 
You shrugged lamely, shooting him a small smile. “If I say yes will you sit down and eat that spaghetti and drink some more water?” you questioned back. “Instead of jumping out of my window like a terrified cat?”
Something like an amused snort came from him as he turned, making his way towards your little kitchen table. You relaxed when you realized he wasn't going to disappear on you.
“For the record,” the Devil told you, voice muffled around a large bite of spaghetti that he'd shoveled into his mouth, “I am not a stray cat.”
“Of course not,” you agreed, picking up the glass of water he'd already finished and set onto the counter. You brought it over to your sink and began to refill it for him. “Because a cat would know better than to keep running around and making a broken rib worse. And I'm not sure how partial they are to spaghetti,” you joked. 
At the bright sound of his laughter over the sound of the running faucet, you found yourself smiling. You'd certainly missed having him here, even if you knew you were going to miss him the moment he finished that bowl of spaghetti and jumped back over your fire escape. All you could really do was enjoy the next few minutes you had with him and hope that he returned another time. 
Though deep down you sort of found yourself hoping he was more like a stray cat than he let on, because at the very least, maybe the prospect of food and water would tempt him to appear again at your window sooner rather than later. 
And that thought was steadily giving you an idea.
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biggestsimp12 · 1 year
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Let me show you how much i've missed you.
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(this has been sitting in my drafts for a week now =w=)
! HUGE SPOILERS (sumeru quest)!
(angst with fluff at the end)
(Wanted to do this in 2 parts but scratch that)
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You were finally free. You finally escaped that cursed place once and forever.
You ran as screams of terror and agony could be heard behind you, slowly fading away.
Flashbacks from previous minutes floaded your mind, ringing in your brain over and over again.
--
You were captured and selled by some mora-thirst people to a psychopatic inazumian scientist. They kept experimenting your powers, trying to create changes wich caused you extreme pain, yet little to no change. The scientist took advantage of your immortality to insert all sorts of chemicals in your blood. While he was preparing another dose for one of his endless experiments on you, he accidentally dropped one of his glass tube, causing a big explosion to occur. Creating a sheild around you, you covered your eyes, loud noises echoing through the room. Smoke started to fill your senses, taking your hands off your eyes, watching in horror the sight in front of you. The whole lab was on fire, quickly devouring every inch of the building. Your eyes landed on the trapped figure in front of you. The scientist was being crushed almost to death by thick metal bar. Seeing you staring at him, he ordered you to help. Receiving no answer, he repeated once more, his command turning to pleading to desperately begging you to help him as fire quickly made its way to him. You looked at him almost in a pity full way, heading to the exit, the key word being almost. You started running out hearing your torturers cries for you not to.
--
You stopped at the only place you knew by heart. Or at least, used to. The chinju forest.
You sat down by a tree trying to catch your breath. You looked down at your freshly cut feet, all covered in blood. You must have cut yourself on the tons of broken glass left in the lab due to the explosion.
You slowly made your way to the small river, sitting down at its edge. You gently washed your feet wincing in pain when touching a deeper cut.
Your only goul now was to reunite with him once more.
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Present day (before Nahida ereased everyones memories)
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You don't know how much it passed. One century? Maybe 2, 3, 4? You had no idea. Your worst fear was statring to become true. What if you'll never see him again? What if he was dead? Even if not, did he still love you as much as you did? What if he wasn't the same? (even if he wasn't, you'll still accept him either way) Your thoughts were interrupted by bumping into something. Wait no. Someone.
Hey, watch where you're going! A high pitched fairy said, staring at you as you were some kind of criminal.
I'm deeply sorry little floating gi-
Oh no! *I think they look like some fatui! Yikes, not again!* Wait.. Did you just call me floating little girl!? The blonde girl/boy beside her started laughing at her little floating companions change of attitude. The blonde one looked at you, analyzing you as well.
Paimon, i don't fatuis have such type of masks. Besides they don't look like they did it on purpose.
What are fatuis?
They both stared at you in shock as if you just said that you got a bomb and its about to explode.
How could you not know what fatuis are?! Have you been living under a rock!?
Uhm could you stop yelling? I'm right beside you.
Sorry for her. She can over react some times. I'm Aether /Lumine and this is Paimon. Now, do you seriously do not know who the fatui are?
Y/N, nice to meet you. And no i haven't. Could you explain it to me? If you don't mind of course.
Of course we don't!
Ooh~ Paimon wants to tell them! Can i, please, please, please, please, pleaseeee?
------------—————
After exchanging both pasts and explaining about the fatuis
————————------
Yeah! And theres a scary doctor whos experimenting people and! and!
You frowned as you heard the word "experiment", bad memories floading your head. Paimon took notice of this as she started apologizing.
Oh, i'm sorry! Paimon didn't mean to make you uncomfortable!
You looked up at the small fairy beside you, giving her a weak smile.
Don't worry that was hundred of years ago. I'm glad there's someone who understands how i feel. I'm deeply sorry Lumine/Aether. I did see a girl/boy similar to you but that was a long time ago. Did you at least get to see her/him again?
One or two times. Yet she/he was so different than when we used to travel together. What about you? Have you gotten to see this person?
Your smile faded as you sighed.
I wish i did, he was such a sweetheart. It broke my heart seeing him cry like that while we got separated. Before they knocked me out i screamed a promise.
You smiled again looking down at your feet.
What promise did you make?
Paimon looked at you, captured by your story. You laughed at her cuteness, remembering your promise perfectly.
"I promise i'll search for you darling. No matter how bad the weather or bad the health, i'll always be searching. Our love shall never die, for i be forever searching, nobody can tear our love apart and i shall never lie."
Waaah (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞ Paimon thinks this is so sweet! What if you don't see him again??
The little floating girl said, hugging you tightly.
Don't worry Paimon. I haven't given up yet. He must somewhere in this world. If not i'll start traveling the worlds for him.
You said trying to get your hopes up. In reality you had no idea where he could be. You did in fact travel multiple worlds only to be stuck at the start line back in teyvat. You sighed, changing the subject to enlighten the mood.
After deciding to join them in their journey, you both made your way to the Sumeru City.
--------————
Timeskip after saving Nahida
————--------
Woah... Who would've thought there's place like this hidden right slap bang in the middle of the city!
The sages wanted to realize their god creation plan without being discovered. The safest and most convenient way would be to build within the Akademiya itself.
They are already hiding a god, so why not 2?
Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. What was this all fatui thing and fake god that they were talking about? If so, how come you never heard about them? Your thoughts were interrupted when Paimon spoke again.
Paimon knows that he was a prototype puppet for the Raiden Shogun before he became a Fatui Harbinger...
You stare at Paimon in shock. Did they know him all along? How come they never told you about this? Yeah the traveler said he/she had some vision about the Balladeer but they never told who he actually was. All these questions swelling up in your head made you furious yet sad at the same time.
You 2 sure seem to know about him quite well. Yet there is a certain person who has more knowledge about him and his past. In fact they were very close for that matter.
The traveler and Paimon looked confused at Nahida. The little elf like archon took your hand before speaking.
Y/N. I know you were searching him for a long time. Could you tell us what you know about him?
Wait.. Y/N!? The person you were searching is him?! But how!? When you were talking about him, he sounded so nice and sweet! He's literally nothing close that! He is an arrogant little-
Paimon, please do not jump to conclusions. We do not what occured in his life to change his behavior like that. So Y/N. How did you exactly meet?
Well.. I was walking through chinju forest when i heard something. I started investigating, trying to find the source of it when i tripped and fell into the water. A figure approached me asking me if i was alright. It was a boy in a white strange yet beautiful outfit. I stared at him for a while. His whole feauters didn't look much human. He looked like those gorgeous puppets you see in the kid theaters. He landed me his hand and hesitantly took it. Later on i learned his name and how he got there-
Oh so scaramouche right?
Paimon it is impolite to interrupt someone.
Nahida looked at Paimon, scolding her.
No its alright. His name isn't Scaramouche. Or at least it wasn't when i met him. He told me to call him Kunikuzushi.
After that i invited him to live with me, since he didn't have anywhere else to go. We then fell in love but it didn't last long due to those horrible people that took me. From that day on i never saw him at least once. What happend to him after is still unkown to me.
You finished with a sigh looking down at the little archon in front of you.
She nodded, putting her hand on her chin in a thinking way.
It seems that the occurrence of this events damaged both of your physical and mental health, on your side as much as his. We need to be as careful as possible when approaching him. We don't know what type of manifestation we will get out of him. Now, without further ado, our time is pretty much limited just like a candle on fire. Let's go.
------———
Mini time skip
———------
Looking at its operational status, we must prepare for the worst. The god they wanted to create... is likely close to completion, or already completed.
Paimon floated behind you pushing you forward gently.
If someone should go first it should be Y/N right? No offense Y/N but it's your lover.
You sighed looking at the little scared girl behind you.
As much i would love to talk to him, i don't think he would listen.
Y/N is right. We can't just burst all that Information like that. It could disadvantage us in battle strategy but also cooperation with him. I'm curious of what our fate may be. To me, everything we perceive in this world, everything we learn, and everything that happens to us is considered knowledge. However, only fate is about that which has yet to occur, so it has always drawn my curiosity. So to me, "fate" is the ultimate knowledge.
And now, at long last, I'm not just an observer anymore.
I will personally experience my own fate, with you by my side. Hehe, isn't this such a wonderfully exciting thing?
The dendro archon smiled at you three, closing her eyes. Okay, let's continue on. I can sense "his" aura from here... You watched in disbelief at the sight that standed before your eyes as you made your way further. It was in fact the boy you've been desperate to find again yet.. He looked so different.. So, lifeless.
Nahida used her magic as the blue haired boy had awoken.
The robot copied the puppets moves, making a strong wind.
The boy smiled scanning the sight before him.
Who would have thought... The world would be so eager for my "birth"
I remember you
The boy said looking at Nahida
Buer, the God of Wisdom... And standing beside you the Traveler
He said as his eyes finally reach you
And...
His eyes widened, facade dropping a little then going back on.
My.. My, what do we have here? Honestly i didn't think you'll have the guts to show yourself before me after cruelly abandoning me like that. I see you've changed. But dear so did i.
He said, venom within his words.
You watched him, tears welling in your eyes. Voice trapped in your throat, you could only watch him spitting his point of view of the past that you once shared. He did in fact change. You could see the actual Kunikuzushi behind. He was not evil, just hurt. And you knew it.
The Balladeer has already become a god...?
You listened to the conversation Paimon and Nahida had behind you.
"The Balladeer" A long bygone title..
When my spirit ascended to divinity
I felt as if I had existed for the same number of epochs as heaven and earth
Looking back
The existence of what once called itself "Kunikuzushi" appears infinitely small... and ugly
You couldn't believe what was happening right now. This was all your fault. If you knew how to fight that day, none of this events would have existed now. Seeing your uneasy state Nahida took your hand and spoke.
None if these are your fault Y/N. Life has its ups and downs that seem to affect not just human lifes, but immortal creatures both in good and bad ways as well. Everyone creates and has his own destiny. And now, you choose if you want to make a change or not.
Nahida said, looking up the "god" in front of you.
What a cute yet pathetic little speech. You should know that wisdom cannot solve every problem. Like now, where your only option is to face me in combat.
Come.. Let us reenact a scene of the Archon War. Come and inaugurate my birth as a god.
The traveler raised his/her sword as the battle begin
---———
You helped Aether/Lumine get up, watching the giant robot collapse.
Humans... filthy humans...!
The "god" spitted out, not wanting to accept defeat. The small archon flew closer to him, using her magic to take his gnosis. Noticing this the boy started panicking, looking at Nahida desperately.
No! Please! Anything but the gnosis..!
The boy begged, breaking the bots face plate.
That's mine! Don't even try..!
He said trying to hold a grasp of the gnosis, Wires slowly breaking behind him.
I'll..! I'll never go back!
He gave you a small glance, a desperate look on his face. Your heart only could ache at the sight of him being so hurt.
Y/N plea-
Before the boy could finished Nahida reached his gnosis, wires finally breaking, proceeding to make him fall, a lifeless look on his growing bigger by each second. You quickly rushed into catching him, fear rushing through your blood as you used your powers to create a sheild bubble around you 2. You watched his features as you slowly floated your way to the ground. You hugged him, visible tears running down your face. Nahida landed beside you giving you a sympathy look after returning to the traveler.
We haven't yet found the answer to the most important mystery.
Irminsul is still waiting to be saved.
------———
Time skip after Nahida ereased everyones memories
———------
You were not sure why you were crying a moment before just now. The traveler and Paimon exchanged looks before Paimon asked.
Do you remember what happend at the academia?
You gave Paimon a confused look before thinking at the previous events these days. Confused you told Paimon what you knew.
Uh.. We saved Nahida and sumeru. Why?
Paimon gave you a shocked expression.
Do you seriously not remember him??
Am i missing something?
You asked clearly confused.
You were searching for him remember?? You guys promised to search for each other! We just fought with him! You have to remember!
I think we should leave them alone Paimon.. Its not going to work if you press them like that. Let's go...
Aether/Lumine whispered to the little fairy.
Y/N we have to go. See you around!
Bye..?
---———
You walked around the Sumeru City, making some groceries. It's been a week since you and the traveler saved the irminsul. Something was missing yet you couldn't quite catch what. Paimons words from previous weeks ringed through your head, trying to find the answer to your curiosity.
Hey Y/N, over here!
You turned around to see Paimon and the traveler. Beside them there was another person facing another derection.
This is ridiculous.
Paimon pushed the big hat boy further giving him a thumbs up. You couldn't really see his face due him looking down.
Hi. My name is Y/N! Nice to meet you-
Upon seeing his face, memories click in your mind, now remembering it all. He was the person Paimon talked about. He was the person you were desperately searching all these centuries.
Kunikuzushi.
The boy looked shocked yet relieved. You took him into your arms, embracing him as if he would disappear. Paimon and the traveler smiled, leaving you two be.
I've missed you so much. W-where have you been all this time? How come could i never get to stumble upon you?
You said voice shaking from happiness.
It's not important. There are many things i regret in my past that i don't want to make you worry about. Right now, let me show you how much i've missed you.
---———
The end >¬>
Have a nice day/night
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redjademilktea · 5 months
Text
I've had this draft sitting around for a few months, but Marisha saying Laudna wants a "simple cottage core lesbian life" with Imogen in the lasted 4 Sided Dive made me want to go back and polish this up a bit!! For context, my partner asked me to write something small and imodna related with the word "baking" as a prompt. Just a quick writing exercise as a break from dissertation work. So I came up with this!!
----
"Okay one egg or two?"
"Two. And remember to add them in with the rest of the wet ingredients, not with the dry."
"You're supposed to separate- shit."
Imogen looked at the mess of ingredients, cooking utensils, and mixing bowls sprawled out on the counter in front of her. She didn't think learning this particular recipe would be walk in the park, per se. But she certainly didn't expect... well this - standing here with Laudna in their little cottage kitchen with the remnants of three (soon to be four) attempts at making a passable cookie batter splattered across various surfaces. "Start me off with somethin' easy," she had said when agreeing to baking lessons earlier in the day, "you really liked those cookies that Lord Eshertoss would bake for us, right? We can start with those." She let out a sigh at the memory.
Laudna now stood behind Imogen, peering over her shoulder at her... creation.
"Oh, you might be able to- hmmm." Laudna said as she tested the batter's flavor with her pinky. Suddenly, her eyes went wide as *something* seemed to hit her. Imogen cringed slightly as she awaited the verdict.
"Imogen, darling, you did add two *teaspoons* of vanilla, not tablespoons, correct?"
"Is there a difference?"
"A bit of one, yes," Laudna said with a low chuckle.
"Sorry Laudna," Imogen sighed. She moved to rub her eyes before quickly realizing her damn hands - just like everything else in the kitchen, really - were coated in that sad excuse for a cookie batter. She frustratedly began Prestidigitationing them clean before pinching the bridge of her nose in an attempt to quell an oncoming headache. Before she could get too anxious about the prospect of starting over *one more fucking time*, she felt thin arms wrap around her from behind.
"Imogen, darling, it's alright," Laudna hummed, "I always felt Eshteross was too, well, *extravagant* with his recipe writing. It can make it hard to follow at times." Laudna gestured with one of her hands wildly to emphasize the point in a way that Imogen couldn't help but smile at. "Honestly, do we really need to know what he was eating for breakfast or what life lessons his mother taught him as a child right before telling us to brown the butter?"
"You criticizin' his recipe writing, Laudna?" Imogen asked, already feeling the tension behind her eyes melting away.
"Well, yes, but I don't think he's open to any feedback at the moment."
Imogen let out a small gasp before turning her head to meet Laudna's eyes. "Laudna!" Imogen gave her a stern look in an attempt at mock consternation, but quickly relented into a fond gaze as soon as she caught sight of the way Laudna was leaning her head onto Imogen's shoulder.
"Well all I'm saying is, I love a good set of flowery prose, but there's a time and place. And a recipe certainly isn't the place! Besides, I've always said you were *very* capable. If it's giving you trouble, the recipe is obviously worded poorly!"
Imogen laughed more fully this time. Gods, Laudna could make her feel better about anything, even if it meant defending her honor and recipe following abilities to a dead man. She took a deep breath, taking in the subtle, earthy smell of fallen leaves to help ground her. She opened her eyes to Laudna's warm grin before planting a soft kiss on her lips.
"Thanks baby. Alright, one more time from the top okay with you?"
"Of course darling, just remind me to pick up more eggs from the market tomorrow. We may need to... restock soon."
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cafeinthemoon · 7 months
Text
Ruins - Part XVIII
Chapter 18/?
Wordcount 2,3k
Title Part XVIII
Fandom Shuumatsu no Valkyrie / Record of Ragnarok
Previous chapters 1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8 . 9 . 10 . 11 . 12 . 13 . 14 . 15 . 16 . 17
Symbols ⭕ . ➕. 💛
Warnings: none
Tagging @holdyourwine @lilacshouko @shirayuki-ayumi (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment on this chapter or send an ask or a message)
N. A.: So... its been a while lol First, let me tell you that this time I've spent without posting on social media was important, because I was really tired. I was stressed from work, I started college and was worried about all of this, so I barely had the time or the energy to sit in front of the notebook and write something, or even edit my drafts. I was feeling saturated from it, and sensed that if I continued to do it, the results, that is, the next chapters of my ffs, would be trash. I hope you understand this time.
This chapter is like a transition, and that's why it's short compared to others. The next one we will finally have the process of marriage and the rest, which I've been wanting to work on for too long! Now I'm really excited for that! So have this brief update and I see you in the next one :)
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You didn’t wait until they approached your spot, neither you said anything to express your surprise: once you laid your eyes on them, you let go of Hades’ hand and, without waiting to see if he was going to follow you, you started running toward the group. There was no mistake: there you had your parents, your sisters and your niece, all of them marveled by the vision of the Gardens and cheered up by the fact that you were the first person they met once they crossed the Gates.
Your happiness deepened when you reached them at last: they were all well dressed and had refreshed expressions, indicating that, as much as your own travel to those lands, theirs was far from tiring despite the distance between Valhalla and Midgard.
As a little child who were left in a neighbor’s house for an entire day, once you saw your mother, you passed straight by a surprised Hermes and threw yourself in her arms. All the thoughts, anxieties and expectations you carried that morning came back at once, and you just started to cry.
– Mom – you mumbled – Is that really you, mom?
Though she responded to your gesture with equal emotion, even she was surprised with all those tears.
– My baby! – she laughed – You’ve missed us this much?
– You have no idea – you whispered back, now looking into her eyes.
Your father, who was watching everything with diversion, approached you two, and you opened your arms to hug him too.
– Y/n-chan, is it just me or are you a bit taller since the last time we’ve saw you? – he joked, putting his hand upon your head – What have they been feeding you?
You laughed until you were breathless: not only you’ve long passed the period of growth, but you were also the shortest among your sisters for most of your lives, and that has been a matter of interest for your father since you were, in fact, little. You used to get angry with this in the beginning, but later you’ve learned to send the provocation back to him, just like you did that time.
– Well, maybe you’ve became shorter, dad. It’s just a matter of perspective!
Everyone laughed, and you finally turned to your sisters.
Luna, who, just like you, shared physical resemblance with your mother, was dressed in blue and had her hair tied in a single, long braid; Helena, who was more like your father, had a pair of big eyes glowing with all the things she was seeing, and a curly hair left untied, spreading around her shoulders, where she had a rosy shawl to protect her against the evening’s breeze. Though she was way younger than you, she has passed you in height, and everything indicated that she would keep growing.
Luna was the one holding Ellie, your niece, and the baby let out a sequence of little screams when you arrived, eager to get your attention. She started laughing when you took her in your arms and the girls came to hug you.
– How are you doing, girls? – you asked between the hugs – You’ve never looked so beautiful!
– The same could be said about you – it was Helena’s calm response.
You laughed.
– They have really good cosmetics around here!
– I’m willing to try them, then! – Luna commented, enthusiastic.
Still holding the baby, you finally turned to Hermes.
– Thank you so much for bringing them here, Hermes-sama. It’s the best gift you’ve ever gave to me.
The gods’ messenger, always in his composed manners, nodded.
– I was just doing my job, y/n-san.
Ellie was the first to see when Hades approached, pointing at him with a curious expression. You turned and immediately felt the heat coming up to your cheeks: you’ve got so excited when you saw your relatives that you just left him behind, and only then you realized that this wasn’t the most appropriate thing to do, for despite being his bride and having built a strong, intimate bond with him, you were still human and he was a god, and that could be seen as offensive for anyone who would hear of this.
With this in mind, you stepped ahead and were going to apologize for your behavior, but you had no chance, for you were no longer the focus of the group: while Luna and Helena stared at him with a mixture of curiosity and fear, your parents, immediately understanding they had another divine being before them, bowed their heads in respect.
You soon took the responsibility of doing the presentations.
– So… This is Hades-sama, from Greece – you spoke in a low, shy manner – He’s the King of the Underworld and, as Hermes-sama might have informed you, my future husband.
Hades, now by your side, smiled with sympathy.
– It’s a beautiful family you have, y/n – and, approaching your parents and putting one hand on each one’s shoulders, – You are the family of my future wife. You bow to no one.
Their faces brightened up at those words, said in a soft, comforting tone, and you felt a sort of pride with the scene: if there was any chance of your family not accepting your relationship or not trusting him – after all, that marriage meant taking you away from them and to Hellheim – it disappeared the moment they were treated with genuine respect. You mother, in particular, was satisfied with what she was seeing, which you noticed in the clear message you’ve caught in her eyes: being the responsible for three girls who would soon start their own lives out of her guardianship, it was only natural that the kind of people with whom they’d chose to live was among her biggest worries, and, whatever she was expecting in this sense, to see one of her girls becoming a god’s wife was beyond her imagination; but, if you were happy with this, she wouldn’t ask for more.
Hades greeted your sisters with manners that reminded you of the old gentlemen you used to see in important events at your city, nodding and making brief comments about their beauty. You and the girls always made fun of this, because the old – and, many times, uninteresting – men were the only ones who would behave like this, but having that polite, handsome man making use of those manners without the affectation typical of those other ones convinced them of the honesty of his words, and that left them ecstatic.
Finally, he turned to you and to your niece, who has been observing him with attentive eyes since he arrived and had no problems in being picked up by him, laughing and stretching her little arms to the stranger who received those gestures with diversion.
– And this is my niece, Ellie – you introduced the baby while passing her to his hands; and, with a playful smile, – I guess she likes you!
– Me or my earring? – he asked in return, laughing as he tried to keep the girl’s hand away from his ear; and, to her, – Your curiosity surpasses my expectations, little one!
Though Ellie clearly didn’t understand what curiosity or expectations meant, she seemed to enjoy being held by Hades more than by yourself, because, after playing with her for a moment, she refused to return to you when you tried to pick her back, provoking everyone’s laughter.
And, as expected, your mother was the first to verbalize her opinion on this.
– You have a way with small children, my Lord! That’s surprising, to say the least!
Hades turned to her with a sort of prideful, nostalgic smile.
– I am the eldest of four brothers – he let Ellie hold his index finger – I still remember when each of them were just like Ellie-chan.
Hermes, who was observing everything in silence, was the first to reply that time.
– Let’s pray that this conversation never reaches Poseidon-sama’s ears, uncle.
– I agree with you, Hermes-sama – you, the only human there who met Poseidon, completed with a clever smile.
***
Hermes led your family to rooms on the wing of the apprentices on the human lodge, so that you would stay close to them for the entire period of their stay. It was established that, while your parents would have one room for themselves, your sisters and the baby would stay in a contiguous one, both located on the floor under your own room; to access them, you’d only need to walk down the stairs and cross a corridor for a few meters.
Just like the apprentices, they were all allowed to visit the Gardens and take their meals at the common room, and they enjoyed each opportunity in that sense. Well, actually, your parents decided to turn their stay at the blessed lands into a second honeymoon, something that was first pointed out by Helena and confirmed by you and Luna when you saw them walking with their hands entwined in the Gardens in the next morning of their arrival; your sisters, on their turn, had no difficulties in making friends with the other girls, particularly with Heracles’ disciples, so that later he came to express his contentment in knowing this, stating that you were lucky to have such excellent siblings.
***
Those days spent in the company of your beloved ones were the happiest since your arrival at the divine lands: having your relatives and the man you loved in the same place, and seeing them getting along, was more than your could ask for, even when you knew it wouldn’t last forever.
About this, you already have established your opinion, which was discussed later.
You were taking care of your flowers at the Green House. Your garden, by the way, was growing larger, and that only added to your contentment.
That afternoon, you were upon a small staircase, watering the flowers above your table, when you heard the door opening; you recognized the visitor’s steps and smiled.
– You’re late – you warned him as you walked down the stairs and put the watering can on the floor, beside the table, then crossed your arms to pretend irritation – We were supposed to to take a walk at the Gardens… but this was half an hour ago.
Hades, who was in fact the visitor, walked around the table and stopped by your side, surrounding you with his arms.
– Will you forgive me for this small crime, little one, if I reveal my reasons to you?
You shrugged.
– You can try.
As you imagined, he was with your parents.
– We’ve spent a wonderful time together – he explained – During which interesting conversations happened.
Your face heated up with that.
– Well, if these conversations didn’t include my parents narrating embarrassing episodes of my childhood that I intended to keep out of your knowledge, it’s okay for me.
This caused laughter from your partner, who replied that he then preferred to stay silent about the topics of the said conversations.
***
You had your arms leaning on the wood guardrail as your eyes followed the stream passing under the bridge. The murmur of the water, as sweet as the first time you heard it, was now like the music from a dream, from a memory you’ve long lost and then happily retrieved: yes, you were revisiting the places of the garden where you met for the second time, and now you were in the middle of that bridge where you had your first conversation about your dreams. Those events happened months ago, but to you it hasn’t been more than a few days, and the emotions you’ve experienced that day were vivid inside you.
Apparently, Hades had similar feelings towards it, and he showed it to you: you felt his fingers brushing your hair, then his hands bringing you closer, for a hug.
– Your mood seems lighter now that you have your family here, my y/n – he kissed the top of your head – The time you’ve spent with Heracles was really worth it.
– Indeed, it was – you murmured, passing your arms around his waist – Honestly, I feel even better now that they’re here. If I was scared by all the reasons I’ve told you before, now I know that it was silly of me to be afraid. There’s only room for happiness in my heart these days. Heracles-sama taught me to value the time I have with them instead of concentrating in the future days, in a time when they won’t be with me. And this is what I’m trying to do right now.
– A wise choice – Hades commented – And, judging by what I’ve learned from your parents, they must have the same view on this question. Have you already talked to them about it?
You sighed and moved away from his hug.
– Not yet. I know I have to do this, and they’re probably waiting for something of this type, but I’m still nervous about taking the first step.
– Well, if this helps, you can try to find a chance to bring out the subject during an informal moment. You know, sitting around a table and discuss things like a meeting between monarchs is quite stressful.
You turned to him with a frown.
– This is something stressful for you? – and, with a giggle, – You never told me that!
His lips stretched in a smirk in response.
– There are a few things I still haven’t told you, my girl. For example… – you felt his hand surrounding your waist and bring you back to him – I was sent straight to our future when I saw you holding your niece in your arms. You created such a beautiful scene together.
Your cheeks heated up.
– Our future? Are you talking about…? – you gasped – Hades, we will have a long time to think about this, don’t you think?
The god approached his lips from your ear, as if his next words shouldn’t be heard by anyone but you.
– I do. But there’s nothing wrong in speaking about this right now.
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Prompt: Because I'm tired and want someone to cuddle me <3
Pairing: OM!Boys and GN!Reader
Genre: Fluff, comfort
TW: NA
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AN: Because I feel drained. You know that bone-deep tiredness that's there for no apparent reason? Yeah, that's what I've been feeling for the past 4 days. Add horrible, horrible summer heat with it and you have one very tired, sticky and frustrated Icey.
This is very self-indulgent btw. Not really happy with the ending, but oh well, this has spent too long in my drafts, so enjoy~
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The first sign that something was not right with you was when you woke up.
Your skin was clammy, the t-shirt you had slipped into the previous night sticking to your body despite it being a fairly cold night. An odd sense of exhaustion hung over as you sat up in bed, drowsily willing your limbs to move.
You jolted slightly at a sudden pounding at your door, groaning as you heard Mammon's voice telling you that you were late. Letting out a tired sigh, you swung your legs to get out of bed.
You went through your morning routine (that Asmo had all but wrestled you into following), trying to fight the alluring call of your still unmade bed. Normally you would make your bed as soon as you woke up, but considering the time constraints imposed upon you, you decided not to today. Besides, if you were to keep feeling this way the entire day, you would collapse into bed the moment you came home.
Mind made, you slung your bag (that you had the foresight to pack the day before, thank Diavolo-) over your shoulder. Time for another day of learning at RAD.
What could possibly go wrong?
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You had been feeling queasy the entire day, and that only heightened when it was time for lunch.
Solomon eyed you as you kept playing with the food on your plate. A glance at Simeon revealed that he too had noticed your off behavior. The brothers were all a bit pre-occupied with some student council related work, which was why you were currently sitting with the Purgatory Hall members; but that couldn't be the reason for the way you barely made a dent in the food provided by the cafeteria. And it was one of your favorites as well.
"MC?" he called out to you gently.
You hummed in response. "Yes Sol?"
"Is the food not to your liking?" Simeon asked, his careful question bringing Luke's attention to your mostly untouched food. The younger angel began fretting and worrying over you instantaneously.
Luke's actions brought out the very first smile from you all day. "I'm fine Luke, just a bit tired," you responded to his heart-warming actions, lightly ruffling his hair. Luke huffed, but still hovered close to you with a concerned expression on his face. Simeon took one of your hands in his, checking your well-being using his angelic powers. Nothing seemed too out of the ordinary, and he told you as much.
"But still, you shouldn't overexert yourself MC," Simeon added after some thought. Just as you were going to reply, a familiar voice cut in.
"Indeed MC. There is no need to force yourself to attend RAD if you're not feeling well," Diavolo gave you a smile as he took a seat next to Simeon. Barbatos stood at his side, a fond smile on his lips as well.
"You should take the day off. Lucifer won't mind, I'm sure."
"I-"
Solomon lightly elbowed you, mischief in his eyes as he whispered, "Take the day off. You look dead on your feet, and I would prefer it if my little apprentice is in prime condition for all our experiments~"
You huffed in amusement. For all his cockiness, you could hear the concern in his words. "Fine," you conceded, missing the way everyone seemed relieved, "I'll go home, but only because I feel like trash. And i probably wont be able to concentrate in class." You stood to throw your uneaten lunch in the trash, coming back to your friends to get your bag. "Guess I'll get going now."
"Do you need someone to escort you MC?" Barbatos asked, his hand coming up to brush a few strands of your hair behind your ear. An innocent gesture that had your heart speeding up momentarily, and a red tint spreading all over your face. Barbatos chuckled at your flustered state as you squeaked out, "Nope! I'll be fine!"
"Rest well."
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As soon as you reached the House of Lamentation, it was like a switch had been flipped. The exhaustion you had been fighting to keep back hit you with all the force of a rampaging beast. You barely made it to the bathroom, stripping off your clothes and getting into the bathtub.
You lost track of time as you soaked in the warm water, the bath salts Asmo had gotten for you relaxing you and taking some of the tiredness away. Once the water lost its warmth and your fingers became all wrinkled, you decided to get out. You nearly slipped when you placed one foot on the bathroom floor, hand shooting out to hold onto the side of the bathtub. A breathless laugh tumbled out of your lips, your heart hammering away in your rib cage from the close call. Carefully this time, your extracted yourself and quickly changed into clean and comfortable clothes after drying yourself.
Now that you felt less like a grimy gremlin, you decided to take a nap. Unfortunately, your bed did not feel as comfortable as it looked anymore. You tossed and turned for a few minutes, huffing in frustration before finally sitting up and glaring at the offending piece of furniture.
You needed to sleep. You wanted to sleep. But you were not comfortable enough to and it was driving you mad. Grumbling, you got off your bed, shooting it another nasty glare, picked up your favorite fluffy blanket and left the room.
One long and arduous journey up a flight of stairs led you to the perfect place for taking naps; the attic. You sighed in bliss as you sank into the bed, fluffy blanket on top of you soft and comforting on your skin. Things couldn't be any better.
You slipped into dreamland soon after, not realizing that you had forgotten your DDD in your room.
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Lucifer frowned, looking at his chat with you.
When Diavolo first told him that you had gone home because you hadn't been feeling well, he wondered whether it was just an excuse. While he hadn't paid you much attention that morning, you seemed perfectly fine. When Simeon told him about your off behavior throughout the day, he got concerned enough to send you messages asking if you had reached the House of Lamentation safely and if you needed anything.
Messages that had gone unread and unanswered, even as it was nearing the end of the school day.
Lucifer wondered momentarily if he was the only one who went ignored, a belief shattered when he heard the loud voices of Asmo and Mammon complaining that you had ignored their messages and calls. Levi nervously asked, "D-do you think they're hurt or something? They don't usually ignore our messages..."
A ripple of panic passed through the brothers, but before anyone could act on that panic, Satan spoke up. "If something was wrong with them, we would have felt it through our pacts. Calm down."
"Satan's right. They must be resting right now," Lucifer hummed, hand resting on his hip as he looked at his brothers. "So you should all refrain from bombarding them with texts and calls. There are only two lectures remaining for the day to end; we can check up on them once we're home."
Garnet eyes watched as his brothers left the student council room one by one, before taking another look at his DDD.
Still unread...
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"MC? We're home darling!"
"Shut up Asmo, they're sleeping right now. I can feel it," Belphie grumbled, the soothing hum of the pact mark against his skin lulling him to sleep. It was a calm that washed over him when you were taking part in his sin, and with the intensity of it, he could tell you were in the house.
That was good. The House of Lamentation was safe, more or less.
He watched as Mammon bee-lined straight to your room. Then, in true Mammon fashion, he threw open the door, only to freeze instantaneously.
"Oi, MC?" he called out as he stepped inside the room, eyes finding it empty. "Hey human, where are you?"
"They're not in their room?" Satan asked as he peeked inside said room, frowning as though it could tell him where you went. "Their bag and DDD is still here," he observed.
"Maybe they've gone to one of our rooms? Oh, I do hope it's mine~" Asmo giggled before skipping away. Belphie watched all of his brothers try to get to their own rooms, including Lucifer, in hope they'd find you resting there. Idiots, the bunch of them.
"...Where do you think they are Belphie?"
"The attic, Beel."
"Okay."
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Levi made his way to the common room after having checked if you were in his room. It's not like he seriously thought you would be there. He sleeps in a bathtub, and that isn't the most relaxing place to sleep, he knows this. But he was surprised to see almost all of his brothers there as well.
Asmo pouted, leaning against Satan on the sofa. Lucifer sat on the armchair, watching as Mammon paced left and right.
"What's going on?"
"Oh, Levi! MC's not in any of our rooms, and I'm guessing they aren't in yours either?" Asmo hummed as Levi nodded.
"Did you check the twin's room?"
"I did, it was empty as well," Satan answered.
A beat of silence before... "Did anyone check the attic?"
The five brothers looked at each other, realization setting in as 4 of them scrambled to get to their resting human.
Lucifer sighed, before following his brothers up the stairs to the attic. Once he reached the top, he could see Asmo taking photos and cooing at the scene in front of them all.
You were cocooned in a fluffy blanket, your hair the only part of you visible. Beel slept comfortably on his side, his back facing the door to the attic, one arm over your swaddled figure securely. Belphie was on the other side, not asleep for once as he gave his older brothers a lazy smirk. "Took you guys long enough," he chuckled.
"Oi, you brat- mmph!"
"Shut up, they're sleeping," Belphie hissed, the arm used to throw a pillow at Mammon's face lowering and maneuvering the blanket around you so your face was now somewhat visible. "If you promise to be quiet, you can join us," he hummed, before closing his eyes and drifting off to dreamland.
Lucifer gave an exasperated smile as the rest of his brothers joined the cuddle pile, opting to pull a chair beside the bed for himself, content with watching over his family as they rested.
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george-weasleys-girl · 11 months
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Opposites Attract - Pt. 4
Snape's POV
Snape had never really considered himself the fatherly type. Even in the days when he still entertained the possibility of marriage, the idea of raising a child never appealed to him. Snape knew he was too selfish and easily vexed to be a suitable parent. He was, as much as he hated to admit it, too much like his worthless bastard of a father in that regard.
And yet, as he watched Y/N grow closer to the Weasley boy, a sort of protective paternal instinct rose up within him. He just couldn't see how this situation could end well, and he wasn't about to sit idly by and watch Y/N throw away a promising future for the likes of Fred Weasley.
~•~
Y/N's POV
Y/N wrapped her cloak tighter around her as she descended the stairs to the dungeon. She should've layered up more before coming down here, she thought with a huff. One would think that with the combined magic of the headmaster and all the teachers, something could be done about these damned drafts in the hallways. But, no such luck. Maybe it was some sort of character building nonsense or some other similar bullshit. With a long sigh, she rounded the last set of stairs, trying to exhale all her frustration before her meeting with Professor Snape.
Of all days, Fred picked this one to be an absolute shit. He'd been waiting for her just outside the door of her Ancient Runes class. "Hey, love," he leaned down for a kiss. "I thought maybe we could take a walk before dinner. It's starting to snow."
Y/N smiled. "I'd love to," she replied. "But I've got my meeting with Snape in about fifteen minutes."
"Oh," Fred muttered, looking a away.
"I'll try to cut it short," she reached out, placing her hand on his arm. "I really would love to take a walk with you."
"I don't know why you're going at all," he spat.
The vehemence in his voice caused Y/N to step back. "We've talked about this before. I want to be a Potions Master and, like it or not, Snape is my mentor. Besides, even if I canceled, I still have to return his book."
"Oh yeah, his precious little book from his precious little collection," he mocked.
Y/N stared at him in shock. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
"Oh, I don't know, maybe it's that my girlfriend is choosing to go play teacher's pet instead of spending the afternoon with me."
Her gaze hardened as any sympathy she had flew out the window. "Never mind," Y/N spat back. "Forget me trying to get out early. If you're going to insult me for actually taking school seriously and pursuing my passion then you can fuck right off!" And with that, she turned on her heel and stomped away.
~•~
Fred's POV
Regret slammed into him as soon as she disappeared around the corner. This was not how things were supposed to go.
All he wanted was to spend some time with Y/N and forget about his shitty afternoon.
His day had started out great. But then, he and George got into an argument over the best way to tackle the problem they were having with their newest invention. They didn't argue often, and today's disagreement wasn't really that bad. They'd actually already worked things out. But it didn’t matter. Their arguments always left Fred feeling a little out of sorts and sad. It wasn't something he'd ever admitted to anyone, least of all himself.
Usually, to clear his head, he'd go for a walk. But now, with Y/N in his life, he sought her out instead, craving her gentle, calming presence. The world never felt more right than when she was by his side.
Except he'd fucked up. He'd forgotten she had her monthly meeting with Snape today, and it was the final blow. So, of course, he had to act like a selfish prick.
Godric, I'm such an fucking idiot.
Fred kicked at a loose stone on the floor, debating what to do next. His gut told him not to run after her, that'd only make things worse. She needed to cool down first. But afterward, that should be better. Shouldn't it? Of course, it would be better, he reasoned. Following the path Y/N had just taken, Fred decided he'd wait for her at the top of the stairs leading down to the dungeon, and when she got out, he'd apologize and make things right again.
~•~
Snape's POV
Snape raised an eyebrow as he watched Y/N stomp into his office, slamming the door shut behind her and dropping her backpack on the floor with a loud thud.
"Something troubling you?" He asked with a bemused air.
"What?" Y/N looked surprised, as if she'd just realized he was sitting there. "No, no - I'm fine."
Snape eyed her a few seconds before speaking again. "Very well," he said and leaned forward to replace the book she'd borrowed with a new one. He was pretty certain she wasn't, as she put it, fine, and wondered if her foul mood had something to do with the Weasley boy. He decided to broach that very subject after their book discussion.
"Shall we begin?" He asked.
Y/N nodded and pulled out her list of questions.
Throughout their conversation, he watched Y/N carefully. Assessing her behavior. He noted that she'd kept her mind on track despite being obviously upset.
Excellent discipline, Snape thought. That should make the next discussion more productive.
"Before you go, Miss Y/L N, I would like to speak to you about your future as it pertains to your career path," he began.
Y/N stopped packing up her backpack and looked up at him. "Of course, professor." She sat back down, folding her hands neatly in her lap.
"You still wish to become a Potions Master, yes?" He asked.
"Yes, of course."
"Good," he stood and paced the room. "As you are well aware, Potions requires steadfast study and a disciplined mind. It is important to stay focused. Trivial social distractions can lower the quality of your work."
Y/N gave him a puzzled look. "Trivial social distractions? Forgive me, sir, if I've misunderstood. But it sounds like you're saying I should have no life outside of my potion studies."
"Far from it, Miss Y/L/N," Snape returned to his seat. "But you should be select with who you devote your free time to. Surround yourself with people of like mind who understand and support your endeavors rather than those who seek to pull you away from your objective."
Y/N remained silent for a few long moments. Snape could almost hear the gears turning in her head. "I - I understand, professor," she said finally.
"Very good," Snape replied. "Now, go and enjoy the rest of your day."
Y/N simply nodded and hurried out of his office.
Snape leaned back with a self-satisfied grin, convinced that his message had hit home.
~•~
Y/N's POV
Y/N hurried out of Snape's office, holding back the tears that threatened to spill over. How could she have been so stupid? Letting herself get pulled in by a pretty face. The professor was right. She needed to surround herself with people who supported her. She thought Fred did, but she was wrong. He'd shown his true colors today.
Confused and still angry, Y/N failed to notice the figure leaning against the wall at the top of the stairs.
"Y/N!" A voice called after her.
"Fred?" She turned around, surprised. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to apologize," he began, but then saw her wet, red-rimmed eyes. "You're crying, love. What happened? Did Snape say something to upset you?"
Y/N rolled her eyes. Was Fred really that dense? Or was he too junvenile to take responsibility for his own behavior?
"No, Fred. It wasn't Snape that upset me," she sneered. "But he did open my eyes."
"Opened your eyes," Fred's eyebrows scrunched together. "What the hell does that mean?"
"It means I've been a fool, thinking you actually cared about me or anything that's important to me."
"What? How could you think that? I do care," Fred entreated. "That's why I'm here. Because I care so much."
"For now," Y/N scoffed. "But what happens the next time you want me to take a walk and I need to focus on my studies?"
She started to walk away, but he stepped in front of her. "Y/N, baby, please. Just listen," he begged. "I was upset and stupid, and it won't happen again."
"I know it won't." Y/N's gaze went as cold as ice. "Because we're done, Fred Weasley. This relationship is over."
If your url is crossed out, I'm unable to tag you.
~•~
@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @nighttimemoonlover @jsjcue @wzrd-wheezes @fredweasleyyyyy @hufflepuffie @alexistonks @princess-paramour @anvaaryn @lastwandastan @samshifts @asuperconfusedgirl @superduckmilkshake @mysticsheepsoul @gemofthenight @1lellykins @junerprsh @sierraluvz @wolfkill16 @smallsweetvanillabean @costheticbabe @gobringmemyfood @kiwi5335
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spiderfunkz · 2 years
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TILL DEATH DO WE PART
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pairings : robin buckley x gn!reader
summary : ever since the fall of hawkins, ever since the world fell into chaos, and ever since you left it too. for 253 days robin is left shattered.
words : 0.6k
warnings : ANGST lots of angst, character death, foul language, reader getting vecna'ed (AGAIN I AM SORRY), reader dies of vecna instead of max, grief, established relationship, mentions of heartbreak, my horrible grammar since english is not my first language.
a/n : i am back with another angst fic whoops!! i had this idea for a while but i haven't had the motivation to actually write but now i do soooooo... also this has been sitting in my drafts for a while and i don't know if the dates are correct or not anymore so if it's not just ignore that thank u :)
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it's been 253 days. 253 days since the fall of hawkins. 253 days since you left and took a piece of robin with you. nobody expected for this to happen, no one. it wasn't suppose to be you, it never was suppose to be you. but faith is faith, and you can't change faith. it was your time to go now. and was worse is that no one was there to save you.
it was the day before you had to go back to the upside down to finally defeat vecna, it's tiring yes, so you decided to take a short walk outside the wheeler's house to clear your mind. i mean it was a lot to take, some guy you knew from d&d is now a wanted person, your friend saw some messed up vision from vecna, and max was basically getting chased by death itself.
max saw visions, like nancy, maybe worse. she had nightmares about her dead brother for 5 days, headaches that never seem to stop, and if it wasn't for her walkman she'd be dead by now.
you knew the signs of vecna, it was like a pattern for all his victims. nightmares, headaches, visions, and soon death. but you were to worried about max, so you payed attention to her and less attention towards yourself for you not to notice the same patterns going on for you.
god, you should've listened to your girlfriend. robin warned you about these things yet you keep ignoring it, you regretted it so, so much. you would trade everything and anything to see her pretty face again. but you can't change that now, you're gone. and you took a piece of her with you.
now it's almost christmas, it was suppose to be your 2nd christmas with robin but instead of having pillow fights or buying matching sweaters, she's visiting your grave.
she's wearing the coat you used to always wear, eyes red, and a note in her hands along with a flower, sobbing quietly.
"it's almost christmas m'love. and um, i found our old stuff from before you know, all of this shit just had to come up but, i found a letter that i think you were gonna give me, or you were suppose to give me i don't know anymore." she sighed, opening the note.
"hi robs, it's me y/n. by the time you're reading this i just hope, i'm still by your side. i've been having these nightmares that feel so real, these visions or voices that i hear in them, and i've been having headaches for like 4 days and they just don't stop. i don't know if it's because i'm tired from all this shit that's going on at the moment, but i don't wanna tell everyone and cause a whole mess on the situation. max needs all the attention she can get and she needs it. look, if i am dead i just want to let you know how much you mean to me. i want to tell you all the things i couldn't, or things that i don't have time saying.
robin buckley you are the best person that has come into my life when i needed someone the most. the past days and hours i have spent with you, i will cherish every single second of that until i die. you mean so much to me and i love you so much and i will never stop loving you. you brought the light and joy i needed, and i am so proud to say that you're my girlfriend. i love you, and please don't stop being you.
you're my whole world, the sun to my moon. i am so proud of you and i know you can go through this with or without me. you're strong, love. i know you are.
i will forever love you, robin. - love, y/n."
and with tears in her eyes, robin broke. she missed you more than anything. you were her whole world, and she was yours. but now her world is gone.
"till' death do we part." robin cried, holding the letter close to her.
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thornofthelily · 8 months
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@pinksparkl tagged me in this, what, like a week ago? But I wasn't able to sit down to organize my thoughts because I've been busy with life lol
So here it goes! My 5 + 1 headcanons! 5 Redactedverse headcanons I hold and 1 I'm still working on!
(Sorry if these are supposed to be like, fics, because I don't really have many posted fics or wips right now lmao)
1. Will is basically our silly old grandpa vampire now, but he carefully cultivated that reputation after centuries of brutality. There's a reason the gentle-voiced, teasing, Bob Ross-loving vampire survived to become an old blood king, and it wasn't always through kindness. There's a reason he wants to be a good maker, and also, why he's reluctant to turn people (and no, it's not Alexis's fault for being a "hellion")
2. Lovely was in college when they met Vincent. They had moved to Dahlia for regular human school, and it was the first time they'd been away from home. They were trying to balance school and work and maintain their friendships from back home, but it wasn't going well. They were feeling pretty lonely and not adjusting to life in Dahlia well, and that's why they went to Wonderworld for the first time. They thought it would be a good story for their friends at home, or impress someone from their classes there. They felt like they had something to prove. (When their core was awoken and they switched to DAMN, they finally started making friends and fitting in in a way they never felt like they had among humans. They still had some human friends but DAMN was the first place they felt like they belonged.)
3. Not an original but a goodie I think, but I am ten thousand percent in camp "Angel and Guy are siblings." And honestly, I've come to accept "Angel" as being their actual name. Like, their real names from birth are Guy, and Angel. Their parents liked those oddly specific, literal names. Their boy child is a Guy, their sweet (as a baby) child is an Angel.
4. "Dear" (Lasko's listener) first really fell for him during the Inversion. They were stuck outside with everyone else, and though they didn't have anyone they were especially close to inside, they were still scared sick for their coworkers and students. They had always been passively aware of and attracted to Lasko, and normally they'd never risk the discomfort of flirting with or asking out a coworker, but after Inversion, they had so much respect and admiration for him for how he stood up and got people organized and inspired them and everyone else to rush in to take down shades and find survivors, they finally decided to be brave and ask him out, long after the dust finally settled.
5. Asher is actually incredible well-read and loves literature. Before becoming the goofy gamer loud mouth can't cook beta we all know and love, his mom being a writer meant he grew up surrounded by books all the time. He gained most of his emotional intelligence through reading, and if things ever got tense in the pack, he tended to retreat to a book, read the whole thing in one night, and come back rejuvenated and refreshed and ready to help resolve whatever issues people had the day before.
And for the one I'm still working on...
With all the discussion going around, it made me want to revamp my race/ethnicity headcanons. Full disclosure, I know I'm not the best at writing diversely, it's an issue I'm aware of and I am trying to work on. It requires a few drafts of my ocs to get past the same pale template I default to. So, in examining my hcs for the various speaker and listener characters, while I already had a few, I was looking for other characters I could spice up past the same template, and I am working on the idea of having a Philippino Guy (and by extension, Angel). I haven't done much to expand this idea or flesh it out with any greater detail, but it fits pretty well in my head so far!
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voylitscope · 6 months
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20 questions for fic writers
Tagged by @somanywords and @zenaidamacrouras1 💞 Thank you both for the tag! 💞
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
34.
2. What’s your total AO3 word count?
438,009
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Primarily MCU (17). I've also got Original Work (12), and there are a few fandoms I wrote one/two fics for.
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
All Stucky:
1. There Are Strangers I Have Yet to Become 
2. We Set a Precedent, and Now I’m Living With It
3. I Held You in Gloved Hands (And I’m Not Letting Go)
4. There’s a Light (I Find It at Your Side) 
5. If I Could Stop the Clock With You Tonight  (Technically, this isn't true. There is a fic I wrote in 2015 that is my Fic That Blew Up fic. It is my all-time most kudos'd fic by quite a lot. It's a one-shot I wrote in about four hours. It is in pretty small fandom. This fic is, to do this day, one of the top fics when you sort by kudos both for this ship and in the fandom in general. I still get kudos on this fic all the time. I got 5 overnight last night. So, unless I write something else that completely blows up, nothing will ever catch this fic. There's no chance. It will always actually be my number one most kudos'd.
There are two other older fics of mine that would slot into my top five by kudos -- one would actually be two all-time currently. But in the case of those two, that's largely because they've got time on their side.)
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
Always! Sometimes it takes me a little while, but I always do. I love comments.
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
I was going to say I didn't really have fics with angsty endings, but that's a lie. I forgot about these two pre-war, unreliable-narrator-Bucky one-shots: But You Can Hold Me (Only 'Cause It's a Cold Night in Brooklyn)  You're a Gem but Not a Saint
And thinking about it, I guess Darling, Let's Take Our Time (While It's Still Ours To Take) is probably also pretty angsty, just because of the circumstances.
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
I think some of my fics are just really happy overall, tone-wise, so the ending hits happy, too. Most of all We Set a Precedent, and Now I’m Living With It, I think? And i feel like the ending of I Held You in Gloved Hands (And I’m Not Letting Go) really cements the rom-com vibes there. Also, in my original stuff, people seem to really like the ending of Secretly, I’m Hoping for the Dare Again, and I completely get that. It's a very happily-ever-after sort of ending. So, I'd say those three.
8. Do you get hate on fics?
I don't. I occasionally get comments that make me uncomfortable, but nothing I'd call hate at all.
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
I very much do. As for kind, I use the porn with feelings tag a lot, if that counts as a kind, ha. I think. I do get a lot of comments about my smut being sweet, or romantic, or sometimes even oddly wholesome, ha. I mean, like I said, Secretly, I’m Hoping for the Dare Again, has one of my very happiest endings, and I wrote that as a gift fic for the 2022 BDSM exchange. So, that probably says something about my smut style? I think?
10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?
I haven't. Unless you count putting characters into other universes as a crossover, even if they don't interact with that universe's characters? But I feel like that's more just an AU than a crossover.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not that I know of?
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
Not one that's on my currently being-used AO3, but yes.
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Yes, a few times, but not in years.
14. What’s your all time favourite ship?
Honestly, it's Stucky.
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
I hate to say never on anything, but there are several things sitting in my drafts that I haven't touched in so long. It's probably equally unlikely I'll ever finish any of them.
16. What are your writing strengths?
Tone/mood-setting and character voice, probably?
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
I find describing some actions so difficult, especially when specific things need to happen for plot purposes. Like, any sort of action sequence/confrontation/athletic event/etc sequence is a struggle. It's harder when there are more people involved. Transitioning in and out of scenes is also Not My Favorite.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
I've done it, most heavily in Will You Keep a Candle Burning? (Will You Let Me Come and Stay?)  and its prequel one-shot. Although, there were also several more Wanda lines in my earliest draft of I Held You in Gloved Hands (And I’m Not Letting Go) but I think only... one? two? of those ended up in the final version. I enjoy including it, and I think it can really add a lot for characters/characterization.
19. First fandom you wrote for?
This was a question on a similar meme months ago, and I honestly didn't remember. I've Wayback Machined myself since then, and my very first fic ever up on fanfiction.net (in November of 2006, apparently) was a Harry Potter fic. I'm not positive it's the first thing I ever wrote, but it is the first fic I ever put up online, so.
20. Favorite fic you’ve written?
This is so difficult! I am always tempted to just say that Will You Keep a Candle Burning? (Will You Let Me Come and Stay?)  is my favorite/the best thing that I've written. It's 116k! There is a lot of plot! There is so much character development! It's also the story I wrote and liked so much that it pushed me to get back on AO3/sharing my writing on line. Because I just wanted someone else to read it. So it's hard to separate it from the way writing it has impacted my life over the past couple of years.
But there are a few others I do like. For two that aren't in my top five by kudos or mentioned anywhere else in this post so far -- I'm so fond of the Steve and Bucky in We Were Strangers for Far Too Long, and I loved writing this one. I also really like this The Secret Garden fic I wrote for an exchange: So I Could Blend in With the Sky.
No pressure tags for @dharmasharks @sparkagrace @dontcallmebree @musette22 and @thisonesatellite
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track-five · 2 months
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i've accumulated over fifty half-written fics in the past four years (i'm sure most of them will end up smashed together) so i desperately need help figuring out what to focus on right now. here are little pieces from a few (decently established) drafts that i could get out within a few days while i work on longer stuff
1.
“Could I ask you a question?”
“Always,” Harry grinned, sliding into bed and gently tugging the older boy to sit between his legs.
“I...jus’ love you s’much.”
“…is that your question?”
“Mm, yeah.”
“You really got a fever, don’t you?”
2. [larry's house: loml]
“I thought you were a murderer! Never sneak in like that again, damn near gave me a heart attack.”
“Maybe I am a murderer."
“No, you’re the love of my life.”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t murder you...”
3. [very very very sappy pining love letters]
I guess I’m just lonely tonight. Maybe I wish I had you here to hold me like I held you. Maybe I just need a good cry. Maybe I just need you.
Can you come home yet?
I miss you.
I love you.
- Louis
4. [unfortunately this has no redeeming qualities! all hurt, no comfort]
“I jus’ wanna do up his necklace one more time.” Louis’ throat tightened as tears pricked the corners of his eyes. “I wanna stroke his curls and hold his hand and make him laugh one more time. I-I…I jus’ want one more minute.”
5. [baby boyfriends]
“When’s the last time you had a glass of water?”
“Huh? Oh, I dunno. Yesterday?”
“Harry, you’re jokin’ right?”
“I, uh, I don’t think so.”
Louis kept up his incredulous stare while running a hand through his fringe. He sighed, breaking their eye contact when he turned his gaze to the ceiling as if some kind of answer to his every problem would fall from the heavens.
“Christ, your mother’s gonna kill me."
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etherealbelphie · 2 years
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More Than Just A Pretty Face (Ft. Asmodeus and GN!MC)
Warnings: Sick character, dizziness, lack of appetite, self depreciating thoughts, pain killers, romance is sort of implied.
Length: 1.8k words
Genre: Angst, hurt, fluff, comfort
Summary: Asmodeus comes down with something, leaving him less than glamorous. You stick around anyways.
A/N: I know I should probably be working on the 'Selfish' series of oneshots (that aren't really oneshots anymore) but this fic has been sitting unfinished in my drafts for so long, I figured I'd finally get it done and out. This is adding on to the 'When He Knew He Loved You' series, for which I've already written: Mammon's version.
Anyways, this is a sickfic, and I hoped I tagged all the right warnings. If you think I should add some, please let me know! I hope you enjoy!
-Ethereal (✿◡‿◡)
Story below, please don't claim as your own!
Asmodeus hadn’t looked in the mirror today, and he didn’t intend to any time soon.
His head hurt, his nose was running, and his throat was scratchy and dry. He was exhausted, even though he had just woken up, and his whole body ached.
He was pretty sure that if he had looked in a mirror, it would’ve shattered.
There was no way he was making it to RAD that day.
He had spent the morning in bed, whining to no one about how awful he felt, and part afternoon posting photos he’d taken earlier before immediately falling back asleep.  
You hadn’t been that concerned when Asmo missed breakfast that morning. In a household that large, people missing now and then wasn’t that unusual. You also didn’t have any classes with him that day, so you didn’t notice he wasn’t at RAD.
You did, however, notice that he wasn’t there to walk you home like the two of you had originally planned.
Asmodeus woke up to a string of messages from you.
You: Hey, where are you? 3:40pm
You: Did you leave without me? 3:45pm
You: Okay…well, Satan offered to walk me back, so I’m going to go with him. 4:00pm
You: Hope you’re alright. 4:00pm
He woke up the rest of the way pretty quickly and texted you back.
Asmodeus: I’m so sorry sweetie! 5:37pm seen
Asmodeus: I’ve been feeling a little under the weather today, I didn’t even make it to RAD. 5:37pm seen
Asmodeus: I’m so sorry, I should’ve arranged for someone else to walk you home. 5:38pm seen
He waited one, two, five minutes.
No reply.
He turned his phone face down, rolling over. He tugged the sheets over his head.
He already felt physically awful, and now he’d upset you. Even worse, he didn’t have the energy to try and fix it right now. Honestly, in the state he was in, he would probably end up making it worse.
Great. Now he was crying. As if his nose wasn’t stuffed up enough.
Groaning, he sat up. He reached for the tissue box, only to realize he’d already used the last one. He let out a frustrated whine, flopping back against the pillows.
Why?
Why was nothing going right today?
This is what I get for leaving them to fend for themselves, he thought.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.
“Come in,” he said, wincing at both the pain and the raspiness of his voice.
A second later, the door swung open. It was the last person he’d expected to see: You.
“Hey,” you whispered, balancing a tray as you shut the door behind you. “How’re you feeling?”
He didn’t answer, opting to bury himself further into the sheets instead. He'd upset you enough without making you look at his ugly face.
“T-terrible,” he said, shivering as a chill ran through him.  
“Are you cold?” You asked him.
He nodded, then realized you probably couldn’t see him. “Freezing.”
“Hm.” He heard you come closer, then put something on his bedside table. The tray, most likely. “Do you mind if I check you for a fever?” You asked.
He laughed, regretting it when his throat started to burn. "Honey, you can't see me like this."
"I can't?" You asked genuinely. "I don't think I can catch whatever you have, so that can't be it."
"It's not that. It's that I look horrible right now," he said.
"Well, of course you do. No one looks good when they're sick," you said matter-of-factly. "So, can I check you for a fever?" You repeat.
"You..." he trailed off. You didn't care?
But everyone cared!
Asmodeus was the most beautiful being in the three realms, second to none! They didn't call him the Jewel of the Heavens for nothing.
"Huh?" was the only response he could come up with.
"I want to check you for a fever," you repeated for the third time. "Can you roll over please?"
Still unable to form a proper response, he obliged.
You pressed a hand to his forehead, your brow crinkling slightly. "You're really warm. We should try and get your fever down," you said, mostly to yourself.
"Now, have you eaten anything yet today?" You already knew the answer, but sighed anyways when he shook his head.
"Okay. I brought you some soup, do you want some?" You asked.
He shook his head. "No, I'm not hungry."
"You probably don't feel hungry," you said. "But you should still try and eat something. Can you have a few bites, please?"
"I don't wanna," he said, sounding more like a bratty toddler than one of the most powerful demons in Hell.
"Come on, please?" You asked. You weren't going to force him, but having nutrients in his body would help him fight off whatever he had. "I made it just for you."
He sighed, but he sat up. "A little. But only because you made it," he said.
"Alright, good." You grabbed the bowl off the tray and started to pass it to him.
He stopped you. "My hands are shaking." He held them out to prove his point. "I'm going to spill everywhere."
He paused a second, then a sly smile slid onto his face. "Would you be a dear and feed me?" He asked, batting his eyes.
He didn't really need to ask you twice; you were the one who wanted him to eat in the first place.
You nodded, taking a seat in the space beside him. You stirred the broth a second, holding your hand just over the surface,
"It won't be too hot," he assured you. "Demon, remember?"
"Oh, right." Even so, you stirred it another few seconds before you fed him a bite.
The soup was warm and delicious, and he wound up finishing the whole bowl. Turns out he was more hungry than he thought.
You smiled, placing the empty dish back on the tray. "Good job. I also brought you some painkillers, did you want to take them?"
He nodded quickly, holding his hand out for the two pills you had.
He popped them into his mouth, then glanced to the water glass on the table, then back to you expectantly.
You rolled your eyes good-naturedly, retrieving the glass and bringing it to his lips.
You slowly tilted the glass upwards until he gave you the signal to stop.
"Do you feel a little better?" You asked him.
He nodded, going to lay back down. This was the longest he'd been awake all day, and he was really starting to feel it. He allowed his eyes to flutter shut.
"That's good," you said. "Now, let's see what we can do about that fever, hm?"
You didn't wait for a response, heading into his lavish bathroom. It was easy to find a cloth --how many towels does one demon need, anyway?-- and didn't take long to soak it in cool water.
You wrung it out so it wasn't sopping wet, then headed back to him.
You gently laid it over his forehead. "Hopefully this will help a little...are you tired?"
"Mhm," he hummed.
"Okay, that's alright," you said. "Do you need anything else?"
His eyes flickered open, giving you a hopeful look. "Cuddles?"
You smiled but shook your head. "I'm sorry. Your fever is way too high for that."
He huffed, his lips pursed in a pout. "Fine."
"I'm going to leave you to rest for a while, did you want me to leave? Or stick around for a bit?"
At the mere suggestion of you leaving, he weakly reached to grab your wrist. "Don't go?"
"Okay, I won't." You adjusted to sit more comfortably on the bed. "Go to sleep, alright? I'll be here when you wake up."
He squeezed your hand, making you squeeze back. Then he fell silent, and you assumed he fell asleep.
A few minutes later, you were proved wrong when he said your name.
"Why did you stay?" He asked.
"Why did I...stay?" You repeated, confused. "What do you mean?"
He sniffled. "Here. With me. When I look like this." He vaguely gestured around himself with his free hand.
"Why did I stay with you while you're sick? And you look sick?" You asked, not sure if you were missing something.
He nodded.
"Well, you wanted me to stay, and I wanted to help you."
"Why would you want to help me when I look like this?" he pressed.
"Whether I want to help you has nothing to do with your looks." You sounded offended at the mere suggestion. "I don't care about you because you're pretty. You know that, don't you?" Your tone softened into genuine concern.
Blame his sleepy state, blame his fever, but he responded honestly. "That's usually why people do."
Your silence made him nervous, and your thumb had stopped caressing the back of his hand.
Any second now, you'd start laughing. Of course, being pretty was all he was good for.
"Oh, Asmo." Your heartbroken tone threw those thoughts out the window immediately. "You're so much more than being pretty," you whispered softly.
"I am?"
"Yes!" You exclaimed. He flinched at the sudden increase in volume. You resumed stroking the back of his hand as an apology, though no actions could've compared to what you said next.
"You're gorgeous. There's no denying that. But there's so much more to you than that. You're brilliant when it comes to fashion. You've had what, six of your fashion lines featured at Majolish?"
"Eight," he corrected, and you smiled.
"See? That's incredible! And you're so good with people too. You're great at making them like you, sure, but you're also just...good at being social. You've also got the most emotional intelligence I've ever seen. You always know how to tell when people are down, and you always know how to cheer them up. You've got the most beautiful voice I've ever heard, you give incredible cuddles and massages, and most importantly-!" You paused to take a breath.
"Most importantly, you're always you. Unapologetically yourself, no filter, no matter what anyone else thinks. You're not afraid to speak your mind, you're not afraid to laugh or cry. There's no filtering you, in the best way possible," you stressed, squeezing his hand tightly.
"You're not worth my time because you're pretty. You're worth my time because you're you."
He opened his mouth to speak, to say something, but he couldn't. All that escaped was a choked sob.
You recoiled, releasing his hand. "Did I say something? I-"
He cut you off, sitting up so quickly it made him dizzy, The wet cloth fell into his lap, but he couldn't bring himself to care.
He wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling into your shoulder.
"You said everything," he said, squeezing you as tight as he thought would be safe.
"Thank you."
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orangesunsets12 · 4 months
Text
I started writing this in January of 2023, and it's sat in my drafts for that long. I've worked on it occasionally, but now I finally have something that I can post! I'm not sure if I'll continue this or not, depending on my motivation and all that, but I loved the concept so much that I had to share it!
This takes place after Stranger Things season 4. Rated T and Up for mentions of death and violence.
Word count: 2441
--------------------------------------------------------------
Nancy Wheeler was the last person he expected to see at his door. Dustin had just left after being held in Steve’s arms as he mourned Eddie, Steve doing his best to comfort him. He didn’t know how long Dustin had cried, but Steve was exhausted. He wanted to help Dustin through this, the kid literally lost one of his best friends, yet Steve felt like he had been running on empty for days. He would visit Max in the hospital, comfort Dustin and the rest of the kids, making meals and donating clothes to those in need with Robin, and trying to keep his own pain and emotions at bay. He couldn’t handle his feelings right now. Steve knew that, if one more weight was plopped onto his shoulders, he would shatter from the burden of it all. 
And he didn’t want to break. Not after all that he had gone through. Not with all of the people that still needed his help.
So, Steve wasn’t too excited that Nancy showed up. Sure, he cared for her, he cared for her a lot, but she came alone. And, if she came alone, it meant that something was wrong. Something that he would probably have to take care of. Something that he didn’t have the strength for. Probably something big, because if she was coming to him for help, it was too big for her, and nothing is too big for Nancy Wheeler.
“Hey, Nance. What’s up?” He said, trying to act casual, leaning against the doorframe.
She studied him, eyeing him up and down with a frown. “When was the last time you slept?”
“Not important.”
Steve couldn’t help but notice how Nancy was standing in front of him, with tension in her shoulders and a burning rage in her eyes. This was bad, Nancy never got angry, not like this. Was she angry at him? Steve knew that it wasn’t likely, he would know if she was mad at him long before her anger got to this stage, so she wasn’t mad at him. Who was she mad at, then? Jonathan? The world?
The pieces seemed to fall into place. That was it. She was angry at the world. Who wasn’t? But…why? Was she here to tell him that someone else died? 
He instantly thought of the red haired young girl lying in a coma. It had to be about her. 
“Is it Max? Is she okay?” He asked desperately, his heart racing with every frantic thought that entered his mind, but Nancy shook her head no and pushed past him and into the house, laying her book bag on the kitchen table.
“Max is fine, still in a coma, but alive. She’s not the reason I’m here.”
“Then, why are you here? Is everyone else okay?”
“Yes, everyone’s fine, Steve. I promise.”
Steve couldn’t hold in the breath of relief that built up in his chest at the words, and closed the door behind him as he followed her. 
“That’s…that’s good. But, that still doesn’t explain why you suddenly showed up at my house. I assumed that you would be spending your last days of normality with Jonathan, and not doing house checkups on your ex. The Upside Down is here, in Hawkins. We’ll probably all be dead soon, which you do know, right?
He knew that it probably wasn’t a good topic to talk to her about, but now he was really confused. If no one was hurt, why was she here? Why was she so angry?
“This isn’t our final days, Steve, and Jonathan won’t understand what I’m thinking. You will. That’s why I’m here.” She said  as she spread out some papers from her bag. Steve glanced over at them, seeing words and diagrams and making sense of none of it. 
Nancy grabbed his shoulders and forced him into a chair, then sitting across from him, determined. 
“Steve. You and I both know that this isn’t going to end well. The Upside Down is turning Hawkins into the next version of itself. Every day monsters of all kinds enter our home through the gates, without stopping.” She said sternly, her blue eyes boring into his. “There’s only so little time until more people die, and I’m not willing to wait around to see this happen. Everyone’s hurting, you know that. I’m not going to wait to do something until more people get hurt and more are hurting. There’s enough pain right now as it is.”
Steve listened to her words and glanced over to the couch, the same couch where Dustin had cried his heart out, sighing. “Yeah, everyone’s hurting. But we can’t do anything about it but help where we can. Move on. We can’t kill Vecna, we tried. We can’t stop any of this from happening, no matter how badly we want to.”
Steve wasn’t one who liked to give up, but he was about to now. There was no use in fighting anymore, was there? Was there any hope left for them?
“Listen to me. What if I killed him?” Nancy responded, ignoring his comment, and Steve watched her, eyes wide in shock. 
“What? You want to kill him? Vecna? It’s impossible!”
“Think about it. If I went into the Upside Down, alone, he wouldn’t suspect it. He’s probably waiting for us to send an army after him, not one mere soldier! And, all of his monsters are here, in Hawkins! He has no weapons to kill me with! And he’s injured!”
“Have you forgotten about the vines that he uses?” Steve said, his voice raising with panic. He got to his feet, running his hand through his hair. Just the thought of Nancy going after that monster alone filled him with dread and worry, feelings that had lived with him for years but was growing with every word that came out of her mouth. 
“Steve, the vine’s aren't a big deal!”
“Yes, they are. Those things can kill you. It could suffocate you like the last time we were in there, or stab you right through like what happened to Billy! You’ll die!” 
Nancy sighed angrily, scribbling something on the paper with frantic speed, seemingly grabbing a pen out of thin air. Nonetheless, Steve continued. He cared too much about her to let her even think that going after Venca was a good idea. 
“And, we don’t even know where he is! He isn’t killing anyone directly, so he wouldn’t be in the Creel House. He could be anywhere in the Upside Down, maybe even in Hawkins!”
Nancy’s determined gaze didn’t falter. “I’ll find him. I’ll find him and I’ll kill him. After that, everything should go back to normal. The Upside Down would go back to its own dimension, the gates would disappear, and everything would be better. I know it.”
“Nancy, you could die! You will die! This is a crazy idea!”
“Do you think I care?” Nancy yelled, getting to her feet and shoving the chair away from her. Her voice softened as soon as she saw his desperate gaze. “Steve. Our lives have changed, and not for the better. None of us have a future anymore. With every monster that comes through the gates, more and more people will die. More people will grieve their loved ones, people who were taken too soon. You know this. I want everyone to have a future. Mike. Jonathan. Dustin. Robin. Max. All of the kids. Joyce and Hopper. You. I’m willing to die to let that happen. And, no matter how much I think, plan, come up with new ideas, I know that killing Vecna is the only way to get that future back. And you know it too.”
Steve didn’t reply to that, and she reached over to him, holding his hand as he hung his head. “I’m not asking you to join me, or agree with what I’m doing. I just need you to believe in me. Help me prepare. Because I’m doing this. I’ve made up my mind.”
He nodded, knowing that she wasn’t going to back down. She never gave up, courage and endurance basically ran through her blood. She always did what she set her mind to, and it’s what he loved so much about her. He couldn’t stop her, so he might as well help her. 
“What do you need me to do?”
------------------
Steve couldn’t help but let his mind wander as he got some more water for Nancy. She was currently in his garage, making some bomb that was supposedly supposed to help defeat Vecna, but Steve didn’t have much faith in it. He trusted Nancy completely, but what weapon could kill that thing? 
He sighed, running his hand through his hair as he filled up the glass. Deep down, down below all of his fear, his hope, his courage that seemed one more crack away from breaking, he knew the truth.
Nancy was right. Vecna was weak right now, and they all probably had a better shot of killing him when he least suspected it. It was a perfect opportunity. Wouldn’t they be fools if they didn’t take it?
Steve expected his heart to swell at the thought of killing Venca, to get revenge for all that monster did to him, to the people he cared about. He could finally take down the villain that killed Eddie, that hurt Max, that made Dustin unable to smile. 
Yet, that feeling never came. All that was left was the numbing exhaustion that he hadn’t stopped experiencing since Chrissy first died. Now, though, it was paired with the thought that maybe all of this could be over, and over soon.
He knew that Nancy would die if she went alone. But they couldn’t go with too many people. So, if he went with her…
“Stupid.” Steve muttered, turning off the tap and pouring the overflowing glass out, setting it down on the counter firmly. “Steve Harrington, this is so stupid. What are you even thinking? You would die. You would die and no one would be left to take care of them!”
He looked up and saw his reflection in the window, darkness beginning to settle outside. Red bolts of lightning cut through the sky, and he saw it in his reflection, flashing in his eyes. He reached his hand towards the window, stroking the glass, his reflection, seeing a man who had bags under his eyes, a man who looked like he had given up on hope, a man who had fought and given nearly everything and who just wanted to live. For his life to get back to normal. But, how could it become normal again with Vecna still alive?
“You would die.” Steve whispered, ignoring the tears that burned in his eyes. “You would die, but it would be worth it. They could have a normal life, a normal future. It would be worth it, right?”
Steve didn’t want to die. But, staring at his reflection, his eyes told him all that he needed to know. He was willing to. He was willing to die for them. He always has been, and he always would be. 
With a deep breath, Steve filled up the glass once again, took a quick detour into his bedroom, and then went back into the garage. Nancy was still working hard on her device, not even looking up when he walked in. 
He set the glass down beside her, and then proceeded to sit across from her, balancing his nail bat on his knees. 
“Thanks.” Nancy muttered, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration, and Steve cleared his throat. She looked up, her eyes widening as she took in Steve in front of her. 
“I’m going with you, Nance.” 
“No.” She said firmly, reaching to take the bat out of his grasp. “I can’t let you do that.”
He moved the bat away from her reach. “You’re going to have to. I’m coming. Two people have a better chance of killing him than one, and I can’t let you go down there alone.”
“I can’t ask you to do that.” Nancy argued, her voice stern, but Steve shook his head. 
“You didn’t ask. I want to help. I want this nightmare to be over, and if I can do that by providing my services, I will.”
“But, why? Steve, this can’t just be about helping me.”
“I won’t have peace, not even after he’s dead. I know it. I’ve known it for a while, Nance.” Steve explained carefully, turning the bat around in his hands, taking in the rough feel of the wood against his palms, “But, if it can give everyone else peace, a future…I have to do it. And, I don’t want you to die down there alone when I could've done something to save you.”
She rested her hand on his leg, frowning. “You do realize that this is a suicide mission, right?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. But I can’t let you do this alone.”
She huffed out a humorless laugh. “But I don’t want you to die, Steve.”
“I don’t want you to die, either.” Steve got up from the chair and then sat down beside her, moving the cup out of the way, and rested his hand on her shoulder. “How about this: I go with you, we both do our best to make sure that we both make it out alive, but just in case we’ll write a letter or something for the others. You know, saying sorry for dying and stuff. That way we can kill Vecna, try to get home, but if we don’t everyone else will have something to know what happened to us by. They’ll have something from us to hold onto, as a last goodbye.”
Nancy watched him, as if testing him to see if he actually meant it, then nodded. “Okay. And we tell no one, because they’ll try to stop us.”
“I know. Robin would kill me if she found out about this. Dustin, too.”
“Jonathan would have my head, after this. Probably after this, too, if we make it out alive.” She said with a fond smile. “So, either way, we die.”
Steve laughed, managing a small smile. “Yup. Robin and Dustin will have to fight over who kills me first.”
“But, at least everyone else will be safe, and Vecna will be dead.”
“Yeah. They’ll be safe. That’s…that’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
Steve knew that, with this mission, that was the only truth, the only hope, that he could hold onto. And he would hold onto it as tightly as he could. 
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