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#they were made feel like they didn’t belong there for so long for different reasons over the years and mannn
alloutshirt · 4 months
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dont know about you but seeing these three smash it and glow on stage is making me emotional
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saritawolff · 8 months
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Phew. This one took, uh… a bit longer than expected due to other projects both irl and art-wise, but it’s finally here. The long-awaited domestic animal infographic! Unfortunately, I didn’t have enough space to cover every single domestic animal (I’m so sorry, reindeer and koi, my beloveds) but I tried to include as many of the “major ones” as possible.
I made this chart in response to a lot of the misunderstandings I hear concerning domestic animals, so I hope it’s helpful!
Further information I didn’t have any room to add or expand on:
🐈 “Breed” and “species” are not synonyms! Breeds are specific to domesticated animals. A Bengal Tiger is a species of tiger. A Siamese is a breed of domestic cat.
🐀 Different colors are also not what makes a breed. A breed is determined by having genetics that are unique to that breed. So a “bluenose pitbull” is not a different breed from a “rednose pitbull”, but an American Pitbull Terrier is a different breed from an American Bully! Animals that have been domesticated for longer tend to have more seperate breeds as these differing genetics have had time to develop.
🐕 It takes hundreds of generations for an animal to become domesticated. While the “domesticated fox experiment” had interesting results, there were not enough generations involved for the foxes to become truly domesticated and their differences from wild foxes were more due to epigenetics (heritable traits that do not change the DNA sequence but rather activate or deactivate parts of it; owed to the specific circumstances of its parents’ behavior and environment.)
🐎 Wild animals that are raised in human care are not domesticated, but they can be considered “tamed.” This means that they still have all their wild instincts, but are less inclined to attack or be frightened of humans. A wild animal that lives in the wild but near human settlements and is less afraid of humans is considered “habituated.” Tamed and habituated animals are not any less dangerous than wild animals, and should still be treated with the same respect. Foxes, otters, raccoons, servals, caracals, bush babies, opossums, owls, monkeys, alligators, and other wild animals can be tamed or habituated, but they have not undergone hundreds of generations of domestication, so they are not domesticated animals.
🐄 Also, as seen above, these animals have all been domesticated for a reason, be it food, transport, pest control, or otherwise, at a time when less practical options existed. There is no benefit to domesticating other species in the modern day, so if you’ve got a hankering for keeping a wild animal as a pet, instead try to find the domestic equivalent of that wild animal! There are several dog breeds that look and behave like wolves or foxes, pigeons and chickens can make great pet birds and have hundreds of colorful fancy breeds, rats can be just as intelligent and social as a small monkey (and less expensive and dangerous to boot,) and ferrets are pretty darn close to minks and otters! There’s no need to keep a wolf in a house when our ancestors have already spent 20,000+ years to make them house-compatible.
🐖 This was stated in the infographic, but I feel like I must again reiterate that domestic animals do not belong in the wild, and often become invasive when feral. Their genetics have been specifically altered in such a way that they depend on humans for optimal health. We are their habitat. This is why you only really see feral pigeons in cities, and feral cats around settlements. They are specifically adapted to live with humans, so they stay even when unwanted. However, this does not mean they should live in a way that doesn’t put their health and comfort as a top priority! If we are their world, it is our duty to make it as good as possible. Please research any pet you get before bringing them home!
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rebelscums · 3 months
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Apricity (Qimir x Lover reader)
Ratings: Angst | Slight fluff | Mentions of nudity | He doesn’t realize what he has until it’s gone
Summary: Qimir chooses his padawan over you, going back on his promise and leaving you with one choice… To leave.
For the longest time, it has always been you and him. The two of you against the entire galaxy, searching for a place to belong. Long nights spent tangled up in sheets and days spent traveling the galaxy. It felt nice not to feel so lonely anymore, to belong to someone and have a purpose.
Until he wanted more.
“You want a pupil?” You sat up in bed, the cool air circling from the cave entrance caressing your skin.
He sat up as well, his hand circling around your waist as he pulled you closer to him, “I want to pass my knowledge onto someone else…” His thumb brushed against your side, “I want an acolyte.” He leaned in to press kisses on your neck.
“Then why not just get me pregnant?”
He grinned, breathing a content chuckle against your skin, “You would like that wouldn’t you?”
“I wouldn’t mind it.” The thought of a child, a mix of both you and Qimir, running around excited you.
He pulled back to look you in the eyes, “I promise, once my work is done and I have an acolyte to carry out my will. You and I can finally live without constantly hiding and we can have all the children we could want.”
“Promise?”
“Promise my flower.”
That was two years ago before he found… Mae. You believed in his words, kept his identity a secret, and stood by faithfully as he spent all of his time training her.
He said that he didn’t want to risk your life, that was why your love would remain a secret. You could understand his reasoning and you complied as you always did.
Sometimes he would leave you on the unknown planet you both made your home…
You decided long ago to call the planet Apricty because no matter how cold it felt, your love kept it warm. But that warmth slowly began to fade with each passing month he spent away from you. It was always the same line.
“I thought that maybe we could take a tripe to Naboo?”
“I can’t my flower, but I promise soon.”
“Today is our anniversary. I wanted to make something special for us for dinner. When will you be home?”
“I can’t my flower, but I promise soon we will celebrate.”
“Can I come with you this time? I feel…” alone…
“I can’t take you with me my flower, but I promise soon.”
You spent most of your time walking along the beach, collecting shells and taking in the scenery of the waves crashing against the rocks. Today was no different as you sat on the edge of the beach, dipping your toes into the freezing water.
You were bored and lonely and you just, “I miss him.” You admitted quietly to no one. You’ve found yourself talking to the force lately. You weren’t like Qimir, you had no strong connection and you couldn’t wield the force, but you felt close to it as the force reminded you of Qi.
“I miss waking up to him humming as he cooked breakfast… I miss his jokes and that lopsided grin of his… I miss cooking dinner for him and running my hands through his hair… I miss our adventures… I… I miss…” You didn’t realize you were crying until you felt tear drops hit your hands, “I miss him.” You sobbed.
You were concerned and you were scared for him that his ambitions would take him to where you couldn’t follow.
You were cutting potatoes to put in a stew, humming a song that Qimir used to sing to you. It gave you some sense of humanity staying here alone for the past couple of months. Your tears had long since dried from earlier today and your only plan was to eat dinner and go to bed.
“Your voice is just as beautiful as I remember my flower.” You heard him speak behind you and you froze wondering if you were imagining him again.
“Qi…” You whispered his name as you turned to find him standing there, a small smile on his face.
Your eyes tear up as you stood and rushed towards him. He engulfed you in his arms and you felt like you could finally breathe again.
“It’s been so long.” You cried into his shirt.
“I know, I’m sorry my flower.” He whispered into your hair as he caressed your body.
You pulled back to look him over, “Are you alright? Are you hurt?” You notice the tired look on his face, “What happened?”
“Jedi.” He muttered as he pressed his forehead against yours, “I took care of them.”
You breathed in his scent as closed your eyes… You were happy that he was back and you once again felt safe in his arms… That is until you heard a noise emanating from your room.
“What was that?” You wondered as you pulled away from him.
“My flower, there’s something I need to tell you about.” He said.
There was nothing in his expression that would allow anyone to know what he was thinking… But you weren’t just anyone.
“What is it?” A frown crossed your lips as you could see the guilt in his eyes.
“I brought Osha here.” He muttered knowing he could not lie to you.
“Osha?” Your brows furrowed, “Your acolyte’s sister? Why?”
“Mae betrayed me. I believe Osha is the acolyte I need.”
You pushed him away, your joy of him returning morphing into frustration, “You brought her here?”
“I had no other choice.” He pressed.
“You always have a choice.” You turned away from him. It was ironic how now you wanted space from him.
He took a step towards you wrapping his arms around your waist, “She was hurt, please. I wouldn’t have brought her here if I didn’t have a choice.”
You sighed and closed your eyes, “Alright.” You whispered quietly.
He turned you around and pressed a kiss to your lips, “Thank you my flower. You have always supported me and I love you for that.”
“Of course.” You brushed your nose against his, “I love you.”
You spent your evening tending to the girl’s wound, something you never dreamed of doing, but here you are. You were happy though that at least Qimir was back and hopefully now you can go with him places.
Or so you thought.
You both stood outside of the cave as he told you, “For my plan to work, you can’t tell her that we are together.”
“What do you mean?” You questioned him, “What does our love have anything to do with her as your new acolyte?”
“She needs to see that to truly be powerful she cannot have any attachment to her old life.” He explained, “Trust me on this, please.” He asked once again.
“Who…” You frowned softly, a sad look in your gaze, “Who would you have me be?”
“You’ll be my smuggler, just for a little while.” He placed his hands on your arms, “I swear that it won’t be for long. Just until she accepts who she is.”
“Okay…” You whispered unsure.
Why do you always say yes to him? Why can’t you just tell him that this hurts you more than slicing your own skin? Then being left alone. It felt as if he didn’t want to belong to you anymore…
“Who are you?” Osha asked behind you from where you were making lunch.
“No one important.” You spoke softly, “How is your wound?”
“It’s… Better… Thank you.” She spoke unsure.
“I did what I could with what I had.” You motioned to a bag, “There are some clothes and things for you in there. They are mine, but I’m sure they’ll fit.”
I could hear her make her way over to the bag and open it to inspect the items, “Why are you helping me?” She wondered.
“Because he asked.” You stated as you added more vegetables to the curry, “And because I’m not a bad person.”
You heard her pick up the bag and carry it to the back room to change.
“Qi is outside.” You told her, “I’ll come fetch you both for lunch when it’s ready.”
You hoped that you didn’t seem too mean or awkward as you brushed off your pants. At least the curry turned out good. You thought as you slipped on your shoes and one of Qimir’s coat that you stole. His scent was still there but faded from how many times you’ve worn it while he was away.
“You are not going to give that back are you?” He chuckled.
“You are leaving me for months. The least you can do is leave me this. I may forget you after all.” You teased though you were silently hurting, you didn’t let him know.
He pulled you in for a deep kiss, “I won’t be gone long. Once I find an acolyte everything will be perfect.”
But everything was perfect… At least to you.
You hummed softly as you left the cave, some seeds in your pocket to feed the cute little creatures that live alongside you. The walk felt nice as you finally had somewhere to go to without mindlessly wandering around until your feet felt numb. You wondered if Qi would like to go see the small garden you had been meticulously been cultivating since he left. It wasn’t perfect, but it was yours.
Besides you always told him you wanted a garden and now you have one that you made all on your own.
“A garden hm?” He smiled softly down at you.
“Yes! I would like a big one with the most beautiful and exotic fruits, vegetables, and flowers that we have ever seen!” You explained happily to him as he spun you around in your little home, “Then I can make us the most delicious meals.”
“I see, I guess I will have to get started on building you one then.” He smiled.
He never did build you that garden; but it made you feel proud that you built one yourself. It wasn’t grand and it didn’t have the most beautiful fruits, vegetables, or flowers in the galaxy, but it was enough. It made you content in your lonely state. You continued on your path, knowing exactly where he would be. It was your favorite spot after all, a little cove that was perfect for taking a swim or just relaxing. You remember all of the fond memories the two of you had there when the only thought in mind was your shared future. You thought it was enough… You hoped it was.
You could hear two voices and you sighed silently knowing you would have to put up an act. You had secretly hoped that Osha would try to escape or get lost and you could spend some much needed time with Qimir, but you suppose that the force was not on your side this time.
“If you’re not going to join me then I would like to get dressed.” You heard Qimir say and the odd choice of words made a sick feeling settle in the pit of your stomach.
You turned around the corner of a giant boulder when before you made you step back in shock. There your lover was standing bare in front of a girl who was only supposed to be his padawan.
What was this…?
You didn’t understand as you watched him get dressed. He didn’t try to hide himself or make her turn away. He didn’t…
You turned away and wrapped your arms around yourself, silently leaving the two to their private conversation. There were many emotions and thoughts consuming your mind as you trekked back to your little home.
How long has that been going on? Was he that way with Mae as well? Was I just a placeholder until he found someone better? Why? Why? Why?
Your sadness grew into anger as the realization settled in you like a seed of doubt. He… Didn’t love me anymore. I wonder if he ever did? You thought.
You waited in your home, a place that you have worked hard to make it a warm and welcoming place for the both of you. You could hear them talking as they approached, could see them as Qimir twisted his way inside her mind as he did yours all those years ago. Watched as he grabbed her arm so gently that you wanted to cry. You wanted to look away as she pinned him to the cave entrance and he let her, the lightsaber so close to his neck you wondered if she would actually do it… You wondered if you wanted her to.
He set his claim over her with soothing words and a gentle touch and you knew… He didn’t want you. He didn’t even want a padawan.
He wanted an equal.
You couldn’t give him that, not with your small connection to the force. You weren’t like him. You never would be.
Your heart broke in that moment and nothing saved you from the sorrow that consumed you. All you wanted was a family… He was your family. He was everything to you and you… You weren’t as nearly important to him.
“At least three.” You lied in bed, curled up in his arms.
“Four kids?” He chuckled as he drew circles across your skin, “Why not make it four? Make it even.”
“Four?” You hummed in thought, “Do you think you can handle that many kids?”
“I handle you just fine, how hard can it be?” He teased.
You mockingly gasped in shock before rolling over on top of him, “You’ll see just how hard I am to handle.”
“Oh I’m counting on it.” He grinned, placing his hands on your hips.
You leaned down to press your forehead against his, “You’ll miss me when I’m gone Qi.”
“I’ll never let you go.” He stated sincerely, “Nothing will ever keep me from you, my flower.”
“I’ll keep you to that.” You kissed him.
It seemed that shattered piece of the force reminded him that you were there. He could feel that string of yours begin to fray and when his eyes met yours he knew that there was no way to bring you back.
It was early the next morning and you watched the tide begin to recede as you waited to board your ship, one that was smaller than Qimir’s, but still fast.
“Flower.”
“Please, spare me indignity.” You whispered.
“I can explain.”
You could see the hurt hidden behind his soft gaze, a pleading act that you knew too well. It was a look that he only gave when he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t have been doing.
You continued to look at him with tears in your eyes, “I don’t need you to explain anything to me. I’m not connected to the force like you, but I know you do the very core of my being and I know… I know Qimir.”
“That’s not—” He stepped towards you, but you held a hand up to stop him.
“I want to be loved only by you and… You swore that it would just be the two of us. You used to say you couldn’t bear to be without me… You used to run to see me… I want to be close to you and you still keep me at arms length. You think I’m naive, but I see more than what you want me to see.” You took a breath as you tried to keep your composer without breaking down.
You searched his eyes for the love he once held for you and you wanted to cry because you couldn’t find it anymore.
“You have my heart Qimir, you always have. My love for you is as warm as the sun, but I cannot continue to shine upon something that prefers the darkness.” You confessed, your heart barely keeping it together. You wanted to run back in his arms and forget everything that happened, but that would only leave you right where you are now… Alone.
“What are you saying?” His voice cracked and he felt a gnawing feeling crawl up his chest and towards his heart.
“I can no longer follow you on the path that you are taking, not when your heart no longer belongs to me so please… Give me some decency and let me leave you.” You pleaded not knowing how much your heart could take.
“I can’t.” He shook his head and his voice became desperate, “Please don’t leave me. I can’t bear to loose you. Not you.”
“Then tell her to go.” You looked in the direction of where Mae was watching at the entrance of your home… Your life… Your safe space.
“I…” He looked torn as he tried to decide and that hurt you all the more… He had to think about choosing you and… “I can’t.” He finally responded.
He couldn’t even choose you.
You nodded to yourself at his choice, silently confirming your decision to leave. It was best for you no matter how much pain you were currently in.
“No one will ever be able to truly see you the way I do… You were my apricity.” You turned and began to walk to your ship, “Goodbye Qimir.”
Osha took his place by his side and he suddenly felt a feeling of emptiness, no longer did he feel a purpose nor did he wish for anything except for his beloved flower.
“You won’t kill her?” Osha asked as she watched as your ship took off.
“Never.” He responded quietly.
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charliemwrites · 7 months
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Nikto's Commandments part 8! (and the first half of the Jealousy Duet).
I'll be honest, I got stuck with this one! For some reason I just couldn't get a good flow going and had to try writing this a few different times. I think it shows in the beginning, but I get the rhythm back towards the end.
Also, apologies if there are more errors than usual. I kind of powered through it and am too afraid I'm going to hate it if I try to read it over.
Anyway, please enjoy as always <3
Content: Jealousy, Acts of Devotion, Declarations of Love, Kissing
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It’s your first mission since Nikto failed you.
(You may have forgiven him. He’s even accepted that you have, merciful as you are. But that doesn’t change the truth of what happened – that he failed you. That he left your side, and then almost didn’t return. You’ve forbade him from hanging himself with “almost,” but that doesn’t mean he can’t feel the noose around his throat.)
You’re long since healed and recovered under Nikto’s devoted watch. Nurturing may not come naturally to him, but he’d bend himself into any shape for your use. So, he made himself into your caregiver. Weeks of helping you sit up, walk, bathe… until you were back in the gym, right by his side, gritting your teeth through physical therapy.
A scar is all that’s left now, silvery and tender. The only sign that Nikto’s world nearly bled away on dirty concrete. A reminder of his failure, his disgrace. How could he possibly deserve a place at your side, when he couldn’t even protect you? When he thought, for even a moment, that vengeance mattered more than your life?
Still, he returns to your side. Because you told him to, all that time ago. Because he has so much to make up for after everything. And because you haven’t given him leave to be anywhere else.
(He prays that you don’t the only way he knows how. Through meals from his own hand while you grin, nipping at his fingers. Through tea shared from one cup. With fragrant products in your wet hair while you sigh. You haven’t told him he could be anywhere else, beckoning him into a bed bigger than the one on base, still tucking in close like one of you might fall off the edge.)
It’s not that he thinks you incapable now. He would never blaspheme that you are anything other than utterly competent. It’s just that every blink superimposes pools of blood over his vision, a strobe of you near death.
In his most selfish, private thoughts, he imagines taking you away from it all for good. Tucking you away warm and safe in the cathedral of your off-base apartment, where a god belongs, in their own house. He soothes himself on visions of devoting himself to you fully and wishes he were a prophet. But for all you’ve given him, visions of the future are not one of them.
You were eager to return to duty, nearly cornered O’Conor once you got final clearance from the doctors. Nearly shook him down for a new assignment – for the both of you. Even if he had reservations about sending you to duty so soon, an opportunity to keep Nikto and his temper away a little longer was too tempting. (The bruises Nikto left on his throat were long gone, but the memory clearly was not.)
And so here you both are, in the gym of an SAS base, sparring with Task Force 141.
“Oi, lass! Care for a match?”
“Bring it, MacTavish!”
Nikto stands back to observe as you and the sergeant square off.
The 141 has been cooperative, despite previous tensions with KorTac. You, Nikto, and Konig have managed to build a decent working rapport – though most of that work has been yours. Their captain seems to like your friendly personality and straightforward professionalism; their lieutenant has been cordial. But the two sergeants (especially the Scottish one) have taken a liking to you.
“Fuck!”
Nikto jerks as you get taken down on your bad side – no, it’s not your bad side anymore. You’ve fully recovered; he must remember that. Interrupting a sparring match would be unwelcome and unnecessary. Not just overprotective on his part, but disrespectful to you as well, as if he doesn’t think you can hold your own. Still, he balls his hands into fists as you struggle against the sergeant.
At least you’re laughing, breathless and curse laden as it is.
“She is okay, ja?” Konig asks.
Nikto grunts the affirmative, eyes sharp as he watches you knee MacTavish’s side. Good, he thinks proudly as you twist to get on top. You’ve been working tirelessly to improve your groundwork techniques, learning all the different ways you can use your smaller stature against bigger and stronger opponents.
“He is… friendly,” Konig continues.
Another grunt of agreement. Most people are with you. It’s a natural reaction in the face of divinity; to reach out to a smiling god. It worked on Nikto, anyone else would be helpless. It’s just the natural order of things like green grass, blue skies, or gravity.
There’s a pause that starts to prickle the back of Nikto’s mind. Disinterested as he may be in socializing, he understands how it works. A program that runs in his mind – body language, tone, inflection, facial expression. A complex algorithm that computes to emotion, conversation, feeling. It’s just not an equation that applies to him, or that he can apply to himself anymore.
And right now, Konig is trying to imply something. Nikto cuts his eyes to the side, meets Konig’s.
“Too friendly, don’t you think?” he adds.
Nikto snorts and turns back to the match – where you are just tapping out. MacTavish is unwinding his arm from your windpipe. You’re sat between his legs, back to his chest. A tough position to get out from in a fight. As you’re scooting away, the sergeant pats your hip, leans to say, “good match” in your ear. You shoot him a grin over your shoulder and then push to your feet, sauntering back to your own team.
“Whose turn is it?” you ask, wiping sweat from your brow.
You don’t see MacTavish’s eyes darting up and down your body, zeroing in on the sliver of skin revealed by your lifted shirt. But Nikto does.
“Mine,” Konig answers, stepping forward.
You smile at him, bump fists with him. “Kick his ass for me, yeah?”
“Ja.”
He shoots Nikto one last, pointed look before stepping onto the mat. But Nikto has no interest in watching his match. Not when you’re right in front of him, a sheepish look on your face.
“I can’t believe I lost like that,” you groan. “Guess I need more practice.”
“We will practice,” he promises.
You beam and knock the back of your hand gently against his.
Like an insidious weed, Konig’s observation takes root and sprouts. Sergeant MacTavish’s friendliness.
It’s almost like Nikto is hallucinating again – or perhaps that he has just stopped. A veil pulled away from his eyes. A creature camouflaged in the brush, his eyes skipping over the landscape until an irregularity in the pattern was pointed out to him. And now he cannot stop seeing it.
MacTavish saying hello to you first every morning, asking how you slept with a twinkle in his eye. He offers to accompany you to training sessions, often chooses you first for cross-team drills. In downtime, he’ll invite you to socialize (with the rest of the 141, sure) and always save you a seat or a spot. Usually right next to him.
And it is not that he doesn’t acknowledge Nikto or Konig. He is amicable with both, works well with either of them when paired up. But there is always a tilt to his mouth when he speaks to you, a lilt to his voice. A subtle incline to his shoulders that makes every interaction seem just that slightest bit intimate.
A week into the assignment, and he is touching you freely. First a hand tapping elbow or shoulder. Then an arm around the back of your neck. Platonic, commiserating. Within a day, that arm drops to your shoulders and he’s leaning the side of his head against yours, something a bit warmer than a hug.
One morning, he scoops you up in a hug, your toes nearly off the ground. You seem surprised, reciprocate with a pat to the back before you’re set down and offered a chair.
And the sparring… the sparring gets worse. Not just an exchange of blows and a chance to improve skills with a new partner anymore. It’s become a game of teasing you, joking with you. Tagging you with hits to coax you into going after him. Wrestling with you on the ground and dragging it out while he grunts and huffs against you.
And Nikto… Nikto burns.
This is not hell, he knows; but maybe this is some form of purgatory.
He has no place, no right to suffer. Knows that trying to claim you as his own would be like trying to cage the sun. It wouldn’t just be selfish; it would be heresy. You’ve already given him a miracle; you told him you love him. That is far beyond anything he could deserve, anything he could hope or dream or long for. To take after all that, to demand more of the time, attention, energy you pour into him like holy water…
And yet.
And yet he wants to claw his skin off when MacTavish winks at you. Wants to set the world on fire when that accent purrs “bonnie” or “hen” at you. An awful, deafening static scream fills the fractures of his mind when you smile at the sergeant, when you wish him a good morning or evening.
“How are you with a sniper, hen?” MacTavish asks one day.
You hum, glance over at Nikto. He’s been training you with his own rifle for months now – though it’s obviously been on pause since your injury. “Well, I’ve been working on it, but I definitely need some improvement.”
MacTavish crosses his arms, biceps bulging against the sleeves of his t-shirt. “I wouldn’t mind giving you a few pointers, if you want to come down to the range with me some time. Promise I’m a good teacher.”
You blink, hesitate. Then lightly, “Yeah, maybe!”
Nikto can’t hang himself on an “almost,” but he’s gutted on a “maybe.”
That night you come out of the bathroom frowning. There’s a furrow between your brows that you only get when you’re both frustrated and worried; if it stays, you’ll have a headache within the hour.
“Nikto?”
He glances up from the knives he’s polishing. You stop, eyes darting all over him, towel frozen in your hand.
“Hm?” he prompts.
You don’t answer. Instead, drop the towel carelessly on the floor and stride across the room. Towards him. He only just manages to shove his equipment out of the way by the time you reach him. And you don’t stop, climbing onto the hard desk chair he’s in, straddling his lap. Your fingers curl so tight in his chest straps that he can hear them creak.
He’s trapped as much by your gaze as your weight. Something swimming in the pools of your irises that he hasn’t seen in them before. Doesn’t know how to name or how to tame.
“What’s going on?” you ask.
He jerks back in surprise, but you’ve got a solid grip and there’s nowhere to go.
“Did I… do something?” you ask. “Or… or not do something?”
He stares. “What?” he asks, mouth gone suddenly dry.
Your eyes are still darting between his, like you’ll find answers playing peekaboo between them.
“You haven’t been right the past few days. Maybe even a week,” you explain. “I’ve been giving you space to tell me, but you won’t. And I’m sorry, I’m not trying to pressure you, but please just talk to me.”
Now his brows furrow. “I haven’t been…?”
You sit back a bit, assured that you have his attention – as if that isn’t guaranteed.
“You’re not eating the same. Didn’t even take the green beans I put aside for you,” you say. “You’re not sharing my tea or letting me wrap your hands. You keep leaving for a smoke in the middle of the night. Hell, you’re wearing your mask in our room.”
It dawns on him like apocalypse. That he has been worrying you, affecting you.
“And you’re not… you’re not talking to me.” Your white-knuckled grip eases a bit as you run out of steam, sadness tinging your expression. “I know we don’t talk the normal way but… I haven’t been able to read you. You won’t look me in the eye or press our legs together. You’re even pulling away in your sleep.”
His heart is trying to claw out of his ribcage, wants to crawl into the palm you press to his chest.
“So… if I’m doing something or not doing something… you can tell me. I promise I won’t be upset. I just miss you.”
He crumbles.
Weeks under torture, but he breaks at four words.
You gasp as he rips the gear off his face. Try to help, but he just pushes your hands away. Knows he’s aggravated the old wounds, but a balm is at hand, pressing his face into the crook of your neck.
“моя любовь,” he whispers fervently. “моя надежда. моя богиня.”
You curl around him instantly, arms around his shoulders, fingers fluffing through the fuzz of hair at the back of his skull. Gentle and kind and everything that sinners and saints would fall on their swords for. And yet all you ask of him is to speak, to confess.
“I fear,” he rasps into your skin.
“Fear what?” you ask.
He is your protector, your disciple. Yours to command, to damn, to sacrifice if you so wished – and he would gladly spill his corroded innards at your feet, careful not to bloody your shoes. And he fears that you won’t ask him to.
“You are not mine, but I fear losing you,” he admits. You suck in a breath, arms tightening around him. “If not to MacTavish, then to the world. I will be left here without you again.”
He squeezes his eyes shut as the scars sear all over again, crushes his crooked nose against your collarbone.
“I am yours,” he whispers, lungs burning, “and I cannot be that if you are gone.”
You shift, pressing closer, tighter. Lay your cheek on his head and squeeze him so tightly he wonders if you’re not inviting him inside your ribcage.
“I thought you understood,” you whisper, and even that cracks with emotion. “I’m sorry, I thought I made it clear. I thought you knew…”
You urge him back. He wants to resist. Wants to stay right there in the hollow of your neck, breathing in the soap you two share, basking in your warmth. But you are bidding him to do something, and he is a weak man to your command.
Your eyes are shiny, but there’s a smile on your face when you look at him.
“You’re mine,” you assure him, “you will always be mine. I will never turn you away.”
His eyes flutter with relief. Always. He has no business questioning the truth of that. You’ve said it; it is so.
“I’m yours too, Nikto.”
His eyes snap open again, but you hold him still, hold him right there.
“Our love isn’t a cross for you to bear,” you murmur. “I belong to you the same way – the exact same way – that you are mine.”
“I don’t—”
“You remember what I told you in that car all those months ago?”
Don’t deserve it? That’s not your choice. Don’t understand? You don’t have to. I just do. It wasn’t a choice I made.
Your word is genesis. It is revelation. It is creed and commandment, redemption and atonement.
You’ve said it; it is so.
“Here.”
You snatch a pad of black ink from one of the desk drawers, grab at one of his useless, hovering hands.
“What are you—”
You smear his bare fingertips across the damp pad. Then press them to your forearm. He jerks his hand back, but it’s too late. His smudged fingerprints stain your skin in inky little pools. When he looks up at you, you’re grinning. Wide and beautiful and so damn proud of yourself.
“C’mon,” you coo. “Do it again.”
He hesitates. But his eyes are drawn back to his fingerprints on your skin. His mind echoes with your declaration.
You are his. You are his.
To deny you this, to deny your belonging, would be beyond blasphemy. Beyond sin.
You have said it; it is so. You. Are. His.
You beam as he takes the inkpad and gets his fingers wet again. Begins leaving marks all over you. Along your arms, over your collarbone. Lean back to get palm prints on your thighs. Sits you on the desk to smear lines up your calves. You even tug your shirt up, giggling all the while, so that he can mark up your stomach.
He pauses at the gunshot. Places his blackened thumb over the entry scar. Pulls it away to see the whorls of his fingerprint covering it.
You soften, kind hands cupping his jaw and guiding him up. Up and up… until your plush lips are slotted against his. His own stained hands land on your hips – likely ruining your little sleep shorts – and pull you as close as he can get you. Infusing himself with the taste of you, of your love, of your belonging.
“Yours,” you murmur against his mangled mouth.
“Yours,” he repeats.
The next day, you walk into the mess hall with Nikto’s fingers hooked into your belt loops. There’s a single black smudge on your jaw.
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“You’ve always been mine”
With Leona malleus lilia and Vil?
Leona Kingscholar:
Was Leona always such a possessive person, or was it you that turned him this way? It was a thought he flipped around in his head from time to time, when he had no other things to brood about or concern himself with. The reason your relationship had even been a secret was because Leona didn’t want to deal with his family's questions, not until he himself was sure of what you were and whether you’d be around long enough he’d have to go through the trouble of introducing you. He considered you not being the last person who caught his eye, but he knew it was foolish; when he thought of you the word ‘mine’ repeated in his head like an endless mantra, making his feelings on your relationship quite clear. He wondered if you really knew how he thought of you, if you thought this relationship was just something casual, and he couldn’t wait to memorize the look on your face when he finally told you ‘you’ve always been mine’.
Lilia Vanrouge:
Lilia had never thought he’d fall in love again, that his heart would mend from the pain of the past and he’d be able to feel the comfort in knowing he had someone to come home to. It was a relationship that took time, but even Lilia had known from the day you first spoke that you were someone fascinating, someone who had captivated him with just their voice. He was teasing, poking and prodding, getting the answers to questions he didn’t even know he asked; hearing the way you talked about love, the sparkles in your eyes as you dreamed of a grand romance, it brought a sparkle back to his, too. He wanted to give you that life, those sweet moments, to travel together and see the world and hear all your thoughts on the happenings around you. You sheepishly admitted that you had a crush on him from the start, thinking he might be upset that you weren’t on the same page with what your relationship was, but Lilia could only chuckle at that. He’d press a kiss to your nose before teasing that you’d always been his, even before he knew he loved you.
Malleus Draconia:
There are moments where you come to him, when he’s almost inconsolably sad or so angry lightning scorched the earth around him, that made him want to hoard you away from the world. Your heart was too big, too wonderful a thing to be tainted by the outside, by the hatred the poisons the minds of others to the unknown. Malleus had known you were his soulmate from the moment he laid eyes on you, the chains that locked you to him never allowing you to go too far. And while you loved him, while you weren’t afraid of him, you were still intimidated by the attention that his title brought. The concept of ruling a kingdom, or your differing lifespans, it caused you to avert your eyes from him. Patience had never been his strong suit but in his life, he had nothing but time; as someone with significantly less, he knew you’d come to your own conclusion long before he started getting restless. Malleus’ mere presence was a simple reminder, the way he made your knees weak with just a look, how he could sweep you away from an important event without you even getting mad at him, you knew as well as he did that your heart had always belonged to him.
Vil Schoenheit:
Your heart is pounding in your chest as Vil approached you, the sleek look he chose for the evening stealing your breath away; his confident strut, his head held high, he was the one who deserved the title ‘fairest of them all’. Vil had always known he was a showstopper, he had worked hard to get to where he was and continued to work hard to maintain it, but he was aware of the way others looked at him. As a typecast villain, or just a pretty face, never quite seeing past the surface to the complicated human underneath. Your eyes had always been the most piercing, regardless of your initial intimidation of his presence or the nervousness you exuded whenever he flirted with you, he knew you were a person who he could truly rely on. While dating outside of NRC was not the first thing on his mind you had always stayed in touch; he would have respected if you moved on, not wanting to wait for a man who might never actually settle, but there was a part of him that knew you wouldn’t. As he held your chin between his perfectly manicured fingers, leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of your lips, he can’t help but think about how you had always been his, from the moment you laid eyes on each other.
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jungwondazed · 10 months
Text
18+ only. / camping tent sex with jungwon
it was much chillier at night, a gentle sprinkle hitting the plastic lining of your camp tent. a few days ago jungwon urged you to come along the camping trip with him and his other friends, telling you how much you needed a break from studying all the time. with much effort he convinced you to tag along, promising you how he would take care of you the entire time, despite your worries because you’ve never been camping before. 
the group was divided into six different tents in a small camping ground just nearby the forrest, you and jungwon were luckily able to get your own. the space was extremely tight, no extra room for anything but two bodies and a small side table for a lamp and belongings. 
the day was a very long one. you had no problem with nature, in the sense that flowers are pretty and sure maybe you’d dip your feet into a pond every once in awhile but in a boy’s world, camping was a whole different thing of it’s own. for the most part, you stayed by jungwon’s side to which he was kindly receptive about. he was extraordinarily cute out in the wild, with his gear and backpack, throwing his head back to laugh every time one of his friends cracked a joke. it was fun observing just how men acted around each other, something you couldn’t handle for any longer than a week even if you were paid to. but jungwon was having the time of his life, and you enjoyed just being there with him. however, you felt like you didn’t contribute much, feeling a bit like a burden as you didn’t do anything but stand beside him. was it also wrong of you to slightly miss him? sure he was next to you all day, but not being able to talk a lot even with his presence made it harder. 
with that last thought, the tiredness from the day finally took over and you were seconds away from sleep, before jungwon’s body scooted closer towards you. too exhausted to do anything about it, you kept your eyes closed and in response he pressed his body against yours, wrapping his arm around your waist in the sleeping bag you both shared. 
“mmm?” he breathes out. you can feel that small smile anywhere. “my baby’s asleep isn’t she?” 
you feel the tip of his nose rub your cheek, before his lips pressed gentle kisses on your chin. finally, some undivided attention from him. 
“you’re not upset are you baby? i noticed you were a bit quiet before settling in to sleep. i missed you so much too, you know.” his arm wrapped around your abdomen shifts so that his hand can touch you a bit more. his fingers ghost right under your sleep shirt, and you question if the chill you feel is from his touch or the sudden rush of wind on the outside. 
he makes his presence much more apparent when he brings one leg over you, almost on top of you at this point. jungwon’s kisses grow wet and intimate, the pecks are deep and sloppy, and you hear the tiniest bit of desperation behind them. 
“wanted you with me all day for a reason, ____. if you weren’t by my side i think i may have gone crazy.” 
his hands dip under your shirt entirely, the callouses on his hands from today’s activites are rough on your skin. he rubs you from the sides of your waist to your navel, and gently to the underside of your breast, hesitating a bit as his breathing speeds up. 
he pulls back from touching you there, before doing something that makes your breath hitch immediately. jungwon lifts himself to be completely crouched over you, both his hands pulling your shirt up to cover just your chest. you feel his face inches away from your abdomen by his breath on your skin, and he licks a stripe right at the midline. he kisses your entire stomach, moaning into it, whispering things you can’t quite make out. your stomach caves in at the sensitive sensation, and a whimper escapes your lips. you feel him chuckle right at your waist, satisfied that you’re giving him a reaction. he circles his tongue at the side of your stomach, sucking on the lower side of your rib cage, not caring how eager he really looks. he continues making out with your entire front side because not only did it make you feel good, but he missed you desperately too. 
your stomach was entirely wet, although you didn’t mind. a few seconds pass before you notice a pause in jungwon’s movements. you open your eyes a bit to see him lost in thought, calculation in his eyes as he glowers at the way your panties reveal a bit under your sleep pajamas. you look away, red in the face at the arousal in his stare. you’ll never get used to how much his demeanor changes when he’s turned on. 
his fingers creep at your sides, hooking themselves onto your pajamas and pulling them all the way down. you open your eyes, shaking your head at jungwon and trying to reach for them to dress yourself again. 
“there’s people around us,” you hush out in a single breath and he pushes you gently back down, giving you a serious look and you back down immediately.
despite the demeanor, his movements are gentle, slowly prying your legs apart as he lays himself between them. his face is directly in front of your cunt, and he snickers at the wet spot that formed on your panties. you’re mortified, to say the least, but jungwon looks up at you, the slightest smirk on his face that you would’ve missed if not for the small lamp.
he presses his fingers firmly on your damp panties and you bring your hand to your face to hold back a moan. he’s a bit cruel with his foreplay, not immediately going in stick his tongue in you, jungwon takes everything slowly because he likes making you gradually lose it. he rubs you right there, fingers circling you through that thin cloth, and you’re sure your slick is soaking every string of fabric. jungwon watches intensely at the way your legs are scrambling everywhere, stomach heaving in and out at the mere stimulation of his fingers. 
he inches his face closer to you, sticking out his tongue just slightly and pressing it firmly against that same wet spot. 
“wonnie, please no” you whine out and he fucks his tongue over your panties, lapping at your clit, and slowly losing your own mind. 
he pulls your shirt up to your mouth, signaling you to bite down on it, making you feel a bit pathetic and inferior. he enjoys that though, and he continues licking your pussy.
“you like this don’t you?” you feel his teeth grazing on your panties and your abdomen buckles immediately, a small fang hitting your clit and you swear if it wasn’t for the fabric you may have came all over him. he furthers it by slightly biting your clit ever so gently, it all makes you want to do nothing more but push his head deep inside you, needing his tongue in all your holes if this is the game he wants to play. 
“what if i stopped just like this? hmm? is this enough for you?” his face pulls away, halfway getting up before you pull at his arm to stay there. his bottom lip releases from the tugging of his teeth, his jaw dropping a bit at how eager you look. jungwon has a thing for making you beg, pushing you to ask him for what you need. he likes to see and hear your desires, especially if it makes you look the way you do now. 
you shake your head with tears forming in your eyes. he wouldn’t be as cruel as this would he? you want him on you again, you wanna feel all of him inside you, really. instead of lowering himself down to tease you there again, he creeps up at you, a dark sensation in his eyes as he’s beyond turned on. he eyes your body the whole way up, before he’s right in front of your face, leaning down to kiss you deep. you love when jungwon gets like this. he’s all about teasing you to get desperate but what about him? does he ever realize how needy he looks? with the way his tongue is deep inside your mouth, you’re at ease knowing he’ll always need it just as much as you do. 
“you heard everything i said earlier, didn’t you? i missed you baby.” you nod, bringing your two hands to cup his pretty face. you heard all of him. 
“i wanna give it all to you right now, but you have to be quiet okay? kiss me whenever you can’t take it.” and you almost fall apart at his demand, jungwon and his filthy ideas that force you to be silent and secretive. curse the way you both were in the middle of a public camping ground and not the comfort of your own home.
he gets up on his knees, pulling his bottoms and boxers off, and you whimper at how big he’s gotten. his cock hits his abdomen once he pulls it out, his tip glistening a bit with him pre-cum. it’s bulging and you wanna do nothing but suck on it, teasing him like he did to you earlier. he smirks once he realizes you staring, lowering down to kiss you once more before he pulls the front of the sleeping bag so that it drapes his broad shoulders, covering the both of you completely.  
you reach up to touch him through his shirt that he still kept on, wanting nothing more than to see him in his entirety. you grip at his shoulders, feeling how fit he’s always been. 
he pumps himself a few times, clear fluid leaking down on your stomach and you gasp at how he’s already making a mess, not even inside you yet. his eyes close and bites his lip at the feeling of him stroking himself, and a small bit of jealousy bubbles in your chest wishing he was getting off by using you. but god, you can’t deny how good he looks right now. stroking his dick above you like he was about to finish all over your stomach when in reality he hasn’t even begun to fuck you. 
you pull your panties down since he didn’t earlier, and he opens his eyes to lazily chuckle at you, making you blush. he kisses you on the lips again, his cock laying right on your stomach. you think you gushed a bit just at that feeling, your patience quickly thinning out.
with his mouth still pressed against yours, he lines his tip to run it up and down your clit. you moanly loudly and he bites down to gently shut you up. jungwon and his fucking teasing, you’re on a thin line, just a few more minutes and you don’t care what anyone sees or hears, you’ll climb on him immediately if you have to. 
his tip strokes your clit over and over, your hole clenching around nothing as he stimulates you this way. it fits so perfectly between your folds, and you force back a whine. jungwon’s not too quiet himself as you feel him pant against you, his tip as sensitive as ever. he presses the entire backside of his cock to stroke between your folds, still not entering your hole yet. he humps your pussy this way, and you wraps your arms around his neck to taste his lips again. 
he can barely kiss you back. always pushing you to the brink, never realizing how he can barely hold on too. 
“please, just please” you whimper out, begging for anything in you at this point. 
it’s minutes later before he finally reaches down to grab himself, lining to fit right into your hole. he groans immediately once his tip is inside, you moaning alongside him.
“fuck me already fucking please,” you’re desperate, too turned on to worry about anything. he brings his arms behind your head so that you rest on them, holding himself up with his forearms. 
“wrap your legs around me” he demands and you do just that, realizing what this angle does to you, but it excites you nonetheless. 
after a few more strokes with his tip he deepens himself, stretching you out further to which you can’t recall a time it ever feeling better than this. he’s big inside you, his thrusting steady. you kiss him as you can’t find a will in yourself to be quiet, hoping his lips can silence you as much as possible. 
jungwon finally bottoms out, so deep both of your chests touch each other for a minute as he rests there, letting himself twitch inside you. your walls warm the throbbing of his penis, which makes him struggle to immediately start thrusting. his moans are a bit whinier, still deep but there’s a soft desperation there that leads you to believe how much he needs it now. 
he finally pulls back and pounds hard inside you, your whole body shaking. usually, this would have made you cry out but jungwon taking his time to warm you up, he could do anything and you’d probably take it a bit too well. he fucks himself in and out, still cradling your head, kissing your forehead in adoration of his girl. he loves you so much, you feel it in the way he keeps his hold around you soft.
you like when jungwon fucks you at a pace that he maintains, laying there and letting himself thrust in and out for minutes so long, doing nothing but mewing and whining at how good it feels. tears brim your eyes as you feel yourself getting closer, while simultaneously hoping this never ends. 
“could fuck you all night,” 
you nod at his confession, genuinely believing him. you love how he never stops pumping in and out of you, his stamina so consistent there isn’t a doubt in your head that this could keep up for hours. 
you don’t realize how jungwon meant what he said in this situation, because throughout the night he brings you both right to the edge before pulling himself all the way out for a few seconds just to thrust inside you all over again. you ask him why he won’t let you cum over and over, promising that you can handle it instead of being edged this way. he whispers how he doesn’t believe you, that he’ll only allow that after he sees how well you behave when you do cum.
with the countless edging, it gets to the point where even jungwon doesn’t know when it’s time to cum, he edges until he absolutely can’t anymore. there’s been multiple instances where he’s so close his mind forgets the entire game he’s going at, speeding up because he’s so ready to spill himself in you. however, you can always tell when he’s given up on the edging, his breathing and whines gets very evident. he fucks fast, hitting a spot so good you couldn’t force him to edge you again even if you wanted that. you beg him for your release in the minutes of him finally giving in, and you could cry at the orgasm that builds up. 
“i love you so much, ____” he weakly moans, kissing you in the places he can as he’s far too gone to be precise. 
“i love you, wonnie, love you so much” you reach up at his face, feeling his warm skin. 
he looks down at the way he’s entering you, his final strokes sloppy as he cums deep inside you, the semen releasing as the base of his cock hits your clit. he groans so deep and he thrusts a few times more to which you cum right with him, moaning in his mouth and digging your heels deep in his lower back. you’re both completely on each other, holding each other so tight the only friction being him stroking in your walls. he continues moving in and out of you, dragging out your orgasm for as long as possible. it feels good beyond words, for a split second you think about whether you would wanna suggest a round two, but the thought goes away when he pulls himself out, his seed pouring out of you and the exhaustion hitting you once again. 
he lays on you for a minute before rolling right by your side, pulling your body against his and burying his face inside you inner neck. both of your eyes are closed, the after feeling of sex resonating between your bodies. 
was this something jungwon was thinking about doing to you all day? or did he only feel up for it once he saw how down you were? you recall back to the many times jungwon has comforted you this way, blushing at how good he always makes you feel. 
“feeling any better?” he starts, “i don’t like my girl going to sleep upset.” his lashes brush your skin as he lazily kisses your shoulder. his aftercare is always so sweet, reassuring you that he still loves and adores your body even after he had his way with it. jungwon keeps you close after sex, you used to think that this was to make you feel better but his care is so sincere you wouldn’t doubt if he did it for his own needs too. 
you smile, turning your head around to slightly look at him. he always looks his best after cumming. 
“i was never upset” 
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Note
Hi, I didn’t see a what not to request thing so ignore this if your not comfortable writing death - but can I request Coriolanus Snow x reader who is a tribute in the games but dies and there’s nothing he can do about it. Just pure angst.
The Fall Of Snow
Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader
Summary: She was just supposed to be a pawn in his games, a way to get the Plinth Prize. He wasn't supposed to care. She was just a tribute, after all.
Warning/s: angst, death, kind-of-psycho Snow, Snow in love, crying, probably some spelling and/or grammar mistakes
Author's note: So Snow's actions and behavior may be a little out of his character here, but that is because I made him helplessly in love with reader. I hope this is okay. Enjoy!
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The red chair where he sat now seemed to uncomfortable to sit in.
Coriolanus' already strong grip on the armrests of the chair somehow just seemed to tighten, he felt certain that he will probably brake the wood out of which the chair is made of. He felt cold sweat dripping down his forehead as he felt the uncomfortable feeling of shivers going down his spine.
His breathing became raspy, his academy's red uniform somehow became tighter around his neck. He felt like he was grasping the last strings of air in the room crowded with the other mentors, he felt like he was breathing just for the hell of it.
His chest started to squeeze so much it started to hurt him.
He couldn't get the air to tear through to his lungs, and for the first time in a long time Coriolanus' vision became blurry with tears.
He knew that she would be dead either way. She was from District 12 for God's sake! She was the weakest target. Her lack of throat-slicing, bloodthirsty, violent nature was going to be her downfall the moment she stepped into that arena.
She was quite small, weak even, but not like that was surprising to him. She came from the loser District. She was somehow a person who wouldn't hurt a fly, let alone kill someone. Even if it was a stranger.
He knew all of this, therefore he didn't have any reason to be surprised.
Yet it felt like he was going to choke on the uncomfortable, unbearable even, feeling of something in his throat as he felt cameras moving onto his face to capture the moment where a tribute lost a mentor. Or rather mentor losing their tribute. But this wasn't like the times before, with the other mentors, with his classmates, that left the room before him.
He knew that this is different. He felt it.
Coriolanus Snow was aware that he was supposed to have the control of his emotions like many times before.
Right now, what he was supposed to do is what was expected of him to do. Look into the camera and wave it off. Play it off as if he was just happy to be here. To play a modest, charming, bright and above all young Capitol citizen and to lean over toward Lucky Flickerman's microphone, that was already showed into his face, and to answer the questions with a charming smile pressed onto his face.
Yet he couldn't even look away from the screen on the wa in the middle of the room, let alone answer Lucky Flickerman's questions like many before him.
He watched her dead body on the floor in the middle of the arena with a shaky breath that left his lips without his permission.
Lucky Flickerman's questions rang next to his ear.
It seems like he was repeatedly asking him something yet Coriolanus somehow never heard him. Every noise in the room came into his ears as a form of beeping.
His vision blurry even tho he tried to stop it.
The only noise that seemed to constantly increase its volume is his ragged breathing.
Coriolanus watched as another tribute grabbed her body by the ankles as he started to drag her over to the pile of bodies that belonged to other deceased tributes.
Coriolanus watched her laid out hand dragging itself after her, her hair everywhere as one single tear slid down her eyes that were still open.
Haunting him.
Why didn't he do more? What didn't he save her? Why didn't she win? She should have won...
She should have won.
Coriolanus Snow didn't know how it happened and why was it happening.
He suddenly stood up, his hand gripping something in the pocket of his uniform, and without even spearing one glance towards Lucky Flickerman, Clemensia who tried to grab his shoulder before he did something stupid.
He didn't spare a glance at anyone for that matter as his legs carried him away from his chair, away from the room, away from the look of her dead body.
He walked out of the room as fast as he could, trying not to look at any cameras.
He pulled the handkerchief that she used before she was violently thrown into the games to fight for her own life.
It was still wet from her tears.
He felt his own tear dropping onto the handkerchief, mixing with her tears. The tears of his now forever lost tribute.
Coriolanus Snow promised something to himself that day.
When he gets married one day, he will do it out of profit, out of perhaps mutual interest, not out of love.
Never out of love.
Love he had for his tribute brought him here. It brought him this tight feeling in his chest that, no matter what happens or what he does, he can't get rid of.
As he wiped one lost tear with her (his) handkerchief, he promised himself to never loose control ever again.
Yet he knew one thing. Those eyes, hair and smile would haunt him forever, as long as he was alive, but he will gladly remember it. The last thing, along with the handkerchief, he had left of her. His love, his tribute, that died in the arena.
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TAGLIST:
@hellonheels-x @especiallythewomenandthechildren @prettyinsatiable @caroline-books @runningfrom2am @10ava01 @thecrowdedstreetin1944
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biteofcherry · 8 months
Text
Echo that thunders
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Bucky Barnes x female reader
summary: The life you and Bucky built has crumbled. Or so you think. But maybe some ruins can be reconstructed, if true love is given a chance?
warnings: angst; lots of feels; hurt/comfort; divorced couple; mention of past infidelity; marital problems; both Reader and Bucky are self-blaming and self-punishing idiots; and obviously are still deeply in love; they need therapy and I encourage that; reconciling intimacy (yes, I mean sex with feelings and tears); Alpine is almost squeezed to death with love (truly affectionately);
word count: 6k
Author's Note: This is my entry for Eight Types of Love challenge from @the-slumberparty. I took a twist on pragma: exes with feelings.
Bucky Barnes Masterlist
Main Masterlist
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Every week the hollow in your chest would ache and you’d try to cram it with sweetness of fleeting moments: catching the pure joy and love on your little boy’s face, mulling your sorrow with pastries that you’d eat alone, then quiet your longing with laughter and shouts of your friends. 
You made it look like it was easy, like you didn’t die a little every damn Friday when you drove your son to his father’s place. 
Maybe you’d feel better if it was the mother missing her baby boy for the weekend, but the wounds opened not for the few days of empty nest, but because seeing Bucky ripped you to pieces. 
You wouldn’t avoid it, though. He loved your son so much, was so happy to spend every possible day with him and you would never take that away from either of them. 
Even if it hurt. 
Truth be told, you wouldn’t let anyone take that away from you, either. Because the pain of seeing Bucky was also sprinkled with that fluttering, bittersweet feeling. Love that you still harbored. 
You didn’t think it was possible to ever stop loving Bucky. 
As you proved, it was possible to divorce him, but it didn’t sever the hold he had on your heart and soul. 
So you welcomed the ache in your chest as an invisible iron fist clenched its cold claws around your heart, when Bucky smiled and waved at you from the sidewalk in front of his building. You knew he waved at your little boy, who was already bouncing in his seat, but you couldn’t help the smile spreading on your lips in return.
“Hi, rascals!” Bucky greeted you, the same way he’s been greeting the both of you ever since your son was born. 
He waited for you to round the car after you parked it, loosely wrapping an arm around your middle and giving you that awkward half-hug. 
You assumed it was as awkward for him as it was for you, though for different reasons.
Bucky was simply nice, trying his hardest to maintain a good rapport with you for the sake of your son, while he had to be repulsed by you inwardly. For you, the hug was difficult, because you always craved to bury yourself within his arms and feel that protective, loving hold. 
“Hi,” you smiled and ducked under his arm, before he noticed that pathetic longing shining in your eyes. 
You went to retrieve a small bag and backpack with Stevie’s clothes and belongings, while Bucky unbuckled your son from the car seat and scooped the boy up in his arms. Joyous squeal “Daddy!” melted you all over again, reminding you how ecstatic the boy was every time Bucky returned home - no matter if he’s been gone a few days on a mission, or just an hour running errands. 
When you turned to them, the sight of them grinning at each other froze you on the spot. You were aware that Stevie shared some of Bucky’s mimics, but it was that moment when your boy pressed his cheek to Bucky’s and they both looked your way with lopsided grins that shattered your heart into pieces. 
You squashed the flare of sorrow inside, saving it for later when you’re alone with a pint of ice cream. 
Bucky had suggested a couple of times that he could come pick Stevie up from your place, but you were too scared of seeing Bucky back in the apartment where you all used to live together. Where the love and happiness were supposed to be forever. 
You were scared he’d come inside and see that you still had a few photographs of him on the shelves. 
You reasoned that it was for the sake of your son, so that he felt his dad’s presence at all times, but you couldn’t fully let go of Bucky yourself. 
“Hey,” Bucky took the bag from your hands, but left you holding Stevie’s backpack. “Can you come upstairs for a second? I wanted to talk something over.”
He always invited you under the pretext of talking over some details regarding Stevie, but ended up dealing with it in two sentences and then coaxing you into a neutral small talk that left you all the more missing him. 
Yet you couldn’t force yourself to say no. 
“Sure.” You nodded, squeezing the strap of the small, red backpack in your trembling fingers. 
Bucky’s apartment, which he got after you filed for divorce, was small, but clean and spacious enough for a four year old and a cat.   
Alpine stuck her head from behind a wall when you entered. She made a tiny meowing sound and walked forward, but the second Bucky put your son on his feet the cat bolted away. Stevie of course followed, running after the furball with glee.
“So I know there’s still plenty of time to plan summer vacation-” Bucky started, leading you toward the counter separating the kitchen from the living room- “but Sam invited us to Louisiana, to spend a few weeks at his sister’s place.”
“Oh.” It was instinctive, that very first thought about your baby boy being away for weeks. In a different state, nonetheless. 
However, you promised yourself to not be an overprotective, controlling mother. And you trusted Bucky with your son at all times. 
“That sounds fun.” You relaxed your shoulders and smiled. “I’m sure Stevie will love it. Especially if you take him on a boat.”
He was in a marine fascination phase. At least once every few weeks you had to go to the aquarium and turn on Discovery channel instead of morning cartoons. 
“Maybe I’ll manage to re-do his bedroom, while he’s away with you,” cogs in your brain started turning. “It’d be a fun surprise when he gets back.” 
“Won’t you need help with that?” Bucky asked, perking up. “We could do that on the weekend when he’s with your parents? You know I’d be happy to help. We can rope Sam into it, too.”
He sounded so eager. For a fleeting moment you enjoyed the warmth at the thought of the two of you doing something for your son together, but you quickly reminded yourself that Bucky would do absolutely anything for Stevie, including dealing with your presence.    
“Umm, sure,” you swallowed nervously, “if you’re not on a mission.”
You regretted saying it, seeing a flash of guilt on Bucky’s face. 
It was a sore subject and bringing it up hurt you both. 
You always admired Bucky for what he did, how much he risked to save others. It didn’t change the fact, however, that saving the world meant neglecting you at times. He tried his best, you knew he did. Still, it hurt when you spent some nights and celebrations alone. 
“We’ve made some changes on the rooster.” Bucky didn’t look at you as he talked, instead focusing on taking out ingredients from the fridge. “It’s doable to book some dates as non-active.”
“That’s good!” You tried to sound genuinely happy for him, while inside you felt a wave of rage that the accommodation wasn’t made when you needed it in the past. “All of you deserve rest and to, you know, live your private lives, too.” 
“Yeah.” Bucky’s shoulders drove up in tension even as he nodded. 
You stayed quiet for a long moment, the sound of your son’s giggles coming from the bedroom where he chased Alpine filled the space, but didn’t ease the sudden heaviness. 
“I better-” you started at the same time that Bucky began:
“Do you want to-”
Both of you paused, but before either motioned at the other to finish, you were interrupted by a pitiful meow and soft paddle of your four year old’s feet.
You both turned and watched your son wobble as he carried Alpine. Though carried was a bit of a stretch to describe two tiny arms tightly wrapped around the upper half of the cat’s body, with its head barely sticking out and two front legs sticking upwards while the rest of the furry body dangled down. 
You quickly covered your mouth to stifle the burst of laughter, but Bucky behind you couldn’t help the snort. 
“Buddy.” He moved around the counter and crouched in front of Stevie. “Alpine knows you love her lots and want to play with her, but this is a bit uncomfortable for her.”
You thought the cat is an actual saint for not having yet scratched Stevie for all the love she was getting from him. 
“Hey!” You chimed in, reaching for the small backpack. “You forgot about the present you have for Alpine.”
“Mousey!” Stevie dropped the cat almost instantly and ran towards you. 
“A present, huh?” Bucky placated Alpine, scratching her behind the ear while she rubbed against his leg. 
“Made it with mommy!” Your son beamed proudly after you fished out the small toy from his backpack. “For artses-” which was his version of saying art classes. “But mommy said it’s perfect for Apine.”
It was a bright blue, slightly askew, crocheted mouse. With a very, very long tail. You thought it would be perfect for Stevie to hold the end of the tail and slide the mouse across the floor, so Alpine could chase it.
“It really is,” Bucky nodded, noticing that the soft toy had caught Alpine’s attention. “Why don’t you run around with it, play nicely with Alpine, while I make us spaghetti?”
Stevie didn’t have to be told twice. Alpine seemed eager for this kind of play, as well. Chasing a new toy surely was more preferable than being squeezed to death. 
Bucky straightened. His tall, broad figure filled your vision. He was much closer now, with no counter separating you. He looked after your son fondly, then his soft gaze switched to you. Not for a second did the affection fade in his eyes as he looked at you. 
“Thank you,” he almost whispered, touching your shoulder gently.
You wanted to blurt out that there was nothing to thank for, but you understood what he meant. The same way you were grateful for his concern whenever you had a cold and he took Stevie so you could rest (bringing you some chicken broth on his way), or that he picked you up when your car died. The small gestures each of you displayed, that betrayed care neither of you seemed to be able to lose. 
Bucky’s hand slowly slid down your arm and because you were so lost in the blue of his eyes and the tenderness of the moment, you forgot to brace yourself for the small sting that his touch brought when he passed your forearm.
You winced. 
Unfortunately, Bucky noticed.
Instantly, he stilled. His hand remained on your forearm, but his touch eased. His gaze flicked from your face to the spot covered by your sleeve and up to your face again. 
“What is it?” Worry pinched his features. “Are you injured?”
He moved even closer, angling his head so he could maintain eye contact with you, even though he towered over you. He gently took your wrist into his metal hand and carefully rolled your sleeve up. 
“It’s nothing. It’s-” 
Words died on your tongue when Bucky’s gaze hardened, a muscle in his jaw twitching, as his gaze landed on the injured spot. 
There were no visible bruises. Not to you, anyway. You mostly felt the tenderness of that area than saw any marks. But Bucky’s senses were enhanced and he definitely could see the difference in the smallest changes of your skin, the barest hint of different pigmentation. 
And, much to your dismay, you could never lie to him. 
“Who did that?” Bucky kept calm, but you sensed the concern bursting into protective rage inside of him. 
“Someone, who is no longer in the picture.” You replied, tilting your chin up. “I may have not expected it happening, but once it did, I wouldn’t chance it repeating.”
The whole attempt at dating was so uncomfortable for you, but seeing some pap pictures of Bucky with an unknown female had made you impulsively agree to the fifth invite from a guy from accountants. 
It was irrational and irresponsible - as some of your past mistakes. There was nothing that suggested Bucky and that woman were connected in any way beside the work area. They weren’t even alone in that place. It’s just that he had his hand on her back and she was giving him a flirtatious smile. 
Well, your jealous brain told you it’s flirtatious. The same brain that forgot to remind you that it was no longer your business if and whom Bucky was dating.
So you went on the stupid date yourself, feeling all kinds of wrong during it. Then got a glimpse of what shit you almost got yourself into, when you wanted to end your date short and the guy called you a tease. His hold on your forearm when you tried to leave was forceful enough to leave a painful reminder. 
“I’d still like to know the name.” Bucky’s gaze shone a dark glint; plates in his metal arm moved in a reflection of muscles tensing. 
“No need.” Placing your free hand on his chest to soothe him was a habit, you didn’t even realize you were doing it. “I promise you, he won’t ever find himself near Stevie.”      
Bucky frowned at that. Suddenly, he was letting go of your arm and cupping the side of your face instead.
“Baby,” it slipped out of his mouth as mindlessly and naturally as you touched him. 
“I know you’d never let anyone hurt our son. But no harm should come your way, either. The guy deserves having his fingers dislocated.”
Bucky wasn’t a violent person. His past, which was beyond his control, painted a certain picture that some people still believed in. But you knew how soft-hearted and kind he really was. He used force and combat in missions, but his teammates knew he would be the first one to show mercy and pull back his punches. 
However, he was protective. And when he entered that mode, he could be very scary. 
Your fingers on his chest clenched slightly, gripping the fabric of his soft, blue henley; as if you were trying to stop him from marching away and finding whoever posed as a threat.
You felt the steady thud of Bucky’s heartbeat beneath your palm, the rhythm of his breath. You sensed the moment his muscles slightly relaxed.
“How about-” hands cupping your face slowly slid down and away, but Bucky didn’t put any distance between you- “you stay for dinner and we’ll talk more about it later?” 
There was nothing to talk about, really. Or maybe there was, but it shouldn’t be Bucky giving you the talk. His concern only messed with your head and your heart, leaving you with incomparable longing and aching solitude when you went back home. 
You opened your mouth to refuse his proposal, but your son suddenly found himself nearby and torpedoed your resilience.
“You gonna stay mommy?” He looked up at you with big, hopeful eyes. 
Bucky and you made sure to be together for important events like Stevie’s birthday, or kindergarten recitals, or even for the 4th of July. But day to day everything happened separately. You didn’t share meals, or walks, or trips the way you used to when you were married. 
You were aware of the impact it had on your son, but one can’t be divorced and still spend every day with each other. 
However, you couldn’t find the strength at the moment to crush your son’s unexpected spark of joy at the prospect of something so simple like spending the afternoon with both of his parents. 
You couldn’t deny your deep, wallowing desire to spend some more time in Bucky’s presence, either. As self-harming as it could be. 
“Um-” you swallowed nervously as you looked down at your little boy. “Yeah- yes, I’ll stay. You know I always liked your daddy’s cooking.” 
Your heart nearly burst when Stevie launched himself forward, wrapping his small arms around yours and Bucky’s legs. Then he was running away, with even more bounce to his skip than before. 
To your relief, Bucky easily switched the topic to casual conversation as you joined him in the kitchen to help prepare dinner. He told you a few latest, funny stories; gushed about a new book series he started reading; asked about your dad’s knee surgery. 
Falling into this comfortable pattern of domesticity with him was too easy. Like you haven’t been living separately for the past year, nursing deeply hidden resentment (which you expected from Bucky) and heartbreak. You knew it would hit you harder when you got back home, step into that silent, empty bedroom, which once upon a time was your nest of safety, laughter and love. 
All of which you blew up. 
You didn’t protest too strongly when Bucky fed your son an extra portion of ice cream after dinner, you were too distracted with your own ache that was spreading its nasty vines over you. 
You played with the melting scoops in your own bowl as Bucky picked up a half-asleep Stevie and carried him to the bedroom. Alpine trotter right after them. From the occasional pictures that Bucky sent you when Stevie was staying at his place, you knew that the cat would jump onto the bed next to your boy and fall asleep with him. 
When Bucky returned and sat beside you on the couch, his presence almost toppled you into a sobbing fit. 
Once upon a time, you’d cuddle on the sofa in your living room and talk for hours, or watch shows, or make out. Even sitting in silence, while Bucky read a book and you browsed social media, was comforting and easy. 
There was nothing easy about it now. Because that desperate need to crawl into his arms and have him chase the sorrows away couldn’t be sated.  
“I’m sorry about earlier.” Bucky’s quiet voice surprised you.
You blinked as you looked at him, slightly confused with what he was talking about.
“I know you’re responsible and very strong. You’re more than capable of looking after yourself and don’t need my meddling in your intimate life.” He said, staring down at some spot and not meeting your eyes. 
The words intimate life sounded as if he almost choked on them.
“I know it’s too late to mend what I fucked up.” He sighed, bowing his head even lower.
Your heart ached, seeing him so resigned.
“James Buchanan Barnes, what the hell are you talking about?!” Instinct to rush to his aid kicked you from your stupor. 
The anger at yourself heightened as once again you saw first hand how much you hurt him. Bucky wasn’t flawless, but he didn’t deserve what you’ve put him through. To know that your actions added to his tendency to self-blame, only made you hate yourself more.
“It was me who fucked everything up.” You countered, setting the bowl on the coffee table with a loud thud. You shifted on the couch, turning your body so that you could face Bucky directly. 
“I broke what we had. I- I broke your heart and you never deserved such awful treatment!”
Neither of you deserved all that pain, but it was on you to take the responsibility for it.  
“I’m not gonna lie, the divorce hurt more than falling off that damn train…” Bucky’s voice quivered with emotion; his fingers shook slightly as he wiped his palms on his thighs.
“Divorce?” You paused, slightly stunned. “I mean, I know it was hard. For both of us. But I knew I needed to set you free after what I’ve done.” 
It was Bucky’s turn to frown, his muscles pinching in a quizzical look as if he didn't understand what you were aiming at, at all. 
“Bucky, I cheated on you!” You hissed loudly, but minding your voice enough to not wake your son.
There it was. The heaviest of truths which triggered the whole domino effect and which both of you avoided naming directly.
But Bucky deserved it - you admitting your faults. There was enough on his shoulders and you couldn’t stand the thought of him taking this burden onto him as well, when it was yours to pay for.
Bucky’s face cleared of confusion, however his frown deepened. 
“What I know is that you were hurt, alone and inebriated. A state some douchebag took advantage of.” There was an undertone of anger in his tone, but not directed at you.
You shook your head in exasperation. 
Leave it to Bucky Barnes to be an understanding, chivalrous knight. It was a wonderful trait, but shouldn’t apply on all occasions, to all people. It definitely should be directed at you. As much as you’d love to follow that reasoning, you had enough self-awareness and responsibility to not go easy on yourself.  
“Being drunk doesn’t excuse what I did.” You stated.
“It wouldn’t, if that was your aim.” Bucky argued. “But tell me, did you go to that bar because you were looking for a hookup? To get back at me?” He rushed with his counter arguments. 
When you tried to turn your head slightly to avoid his gaze, he squeezed your chin between his fingers and gently guided you to look back at him. 
It was hard. To face him when the memories of that awful evening replayed in your head, bringing back a wave of shame and regret. You vomited three days in a row after that night; and only the first half of the first day was due to the alcohol. All the rest was stress and guilt. 
“No, you didn’t.” Bucky continued when you remained silent. 
“You went there, because it was our anniversary and I wasn’t home. I was on a mission. Again,” he sighed regretfully, aware of how his absence weighed down on you. “You went to the bar which we often went to on our dates, before we got married. Probably cursing my ass for absence on another important day and drinking the pain away.”
That was true. Your parents took Stevie for the whole weekend, starting Friday. It was supposed to be a carefree, romantic time for you and Bucky. Even if he would need to just be lazy in bed for an entire day, to recharge after a mission, you still would be together. 
While Bucky returned from one mission, he jumped onto another one right away. He called you to say that he’d be later than he first anticipated, but in the craze of it forgot what date exactly was it. 
You were understanding. Or, well, you tried to be. There was a whole monologue you gave yourself as you paced the floor of your apartment, convincing yourself that your husband was saving someone. So that someone else could return to their family. 
But you still felt bitter and angry that your husband didn’t return to you for something that was supposed to be important to the both of you.
When you went out to that bar, which wasn’t that far from your place, your plan was to have a drink or two and wallow in self-pity. Perhaps to be passive-aggressive, take a picture of yourself all dolled up and send it to Bucky with happy anniversary wishes.
That was it.
Then that man joined you. For a conversation, at first. Two drinks turned into four. Then five. To be honest, at some point his face got a little blurry. He had dark hair, like Bucky. Had his arm wrapped around your middle the way Bucky often did. 
At some point your drunk brain was certain it was Bucky fucking you, not some stranger you just met at the bar.
“I could’ve chosen to stay at home.” You argued, clenching your fingers into fists so hard that your fingernails needled your skin. 
“I could have drunk a bottle or two of wine alone in the safety of our home and sent you angry, slurred messages. Or wait for your return and throw something heavy at your head.” There were so many choices to be made that night. 
“Instead, I made a mess of our lives…” the words fell out of your lips in a broken whisper, your eyes filling with tears.
“And I forgave you.” Bucky said softly as he released your chin. 
“Hell, I don’t even think I was angry with you.” He huffed, running a hand through his hair in a nervous manner. “Oh, I was pissed and hurt!” He gave you a pointed look when you opened your mouth to protest. “I even tracked that man and… well, let’s not talk about things that thankfully didn’t happen once I saw him.” 
“Most of all, I was angry with myself,” Bucky suddenly deflated.
“Why?” You frowned, barely stopping yourself from reaching out to caress his cheek.
“Because I let it happen.” Bucky sighed and leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his thighs. “It was my constant absence that started those clouds over our heads. I was so focused on redeeming myself that I took on more missions than I should.”
A part of you wanted to contradict him, to convince him that he wasn’t doing anything wrong. But there was also a part of you that was still resenting him for doing that, for constantly choosing others over you.
“I think I also wanted to feel needed, which is why I joined teams even though they could’ve handled things without my presence.” He shifted again, sitting across the couch with one leg bent, so he could face you fully. 
He was more hesitant as he reached out for you again. Though you didn’t flinch away, he still dropped his hand as he revealed his own guilt:
“I forgot that you needed me, too.”
You still did. But you wouldn’t dare to tell him that.
“What you do is important. You save lives.” You said quietly, but there wasn’t as much heat to it as you’d like to present.
“I didn’t save us.” Bucky’s words opened the gate to the feelings you tried to stifle for many months.
You almost lifted your fist to angrily rub away the tears threatening to spill, but Bucky reached for you faster. His warm palms rested on your fists; he squeezed them gently.
“Baby, I remember when you mentioned therapy.” He admitted, wincing at the memory of signals which he ignored. “You tried to say it so casually, I know you were afraid of telling me directly that you needed me to save our marriage. I dismissed it.” 
“You hate therapy. I didn’t want to force you into it.” There wouldn’t be any point in attending any sessions, if Bucky would stay guarded.
You understood his hesitance, too. The mandatory therapy he went to a few years back was hard for him, not only because of the topics he had to deal with, but he didn’t feel emotionally safe or comfortable with the appointed professional.
“I disliked my assigned therapist.” Bucky pointed out, with a slight eye roll. “There are hundreds of therapists in this city. I’m sure there’s at least one that I could connect with.” Suddenly, he shook his head. “Or hell with how much I like a therapist, it should be about me connecting with you!”  
He let go of your hands and cupped your face instead.
“I wonder-” he leaned forward, closing the distance between you. “I’ve been wondering, if I didn’t fuck up by signing those divorce papers so easily.”
He did it without much questioning. Which only strengthened your notion that he was repulsed by you and couldn’t wait to be as far from you as possible. You didn’t blame him.
“I understood that. After what I’ve done.” You whispered. 
A single tear rolled down your cheek, stopping on Bucky’s thumb. 
“I couldn’t look you in the eye, because I was so ashamed. I wanted to give you a chance to find someone worthy of you.” More tears flowed.
Bucky tenderly wiped them away.
“I don’t think I’m worth a single hair on your pretty head.” He said, resting his forehead against yours. “I signed those papers, because I thought you were going to find happiness with someone else. That you wanted to build a life with someone else.”
“I don’t think that’s possible.” You would shake your head, if Bucky wasn’t holding you in place.
If his hold didn’t feel so overwhelmingly wonderful.
“Why not?” Bucky asked, incredulously. “You’re the most amazing, kind, smart, beautiful-” 
“Because I’m in love with you.” You blurted out.
Your eyes widened when you realized what you said. Scorching shame mixed with a sudden wave of cold fear as Bucky slowly pulled away and stared at you in shock. 
He was still cupping your face, though.
“Say that again, baby?” Bucky’s tone was a whisper, like he was afraid he’d burst some magical bubble if he moved or spoke louder. “Please,” he squeezed your cheeks slightly.
Maybe the best choice would be to take those words back. Or to start listing all the arguments to why it didn’t matter. But you couldn’t lie to Bucky. You never could. Especially not when he was looking at you with those beautiful blue eyes, filled with hope.
“I love you, Bucky,” you confessed. “I never stopped loving you.”
Tears streaming down your face were warm, but they felt much colder when compared to the warmth of Bucky’s lips on yours. 
He kissed you with reverence and despair, like the first gulp of breath after drowning in murky waters for much too long. There was nothing but his closeness, beckoning you like a flare in the darkness. You followed the coaxing of his lips, the unspoken vows he sealed with his mouth. 
You weren’t even fully aware of your body moving, yielding to Bucky’s smooth maneuvers. Until the full weight of him rested on top of you. 
He provided both that shield of safety and heavy temptation that had your legs spreading to accommodate him.
“I never stopped, either.” Bucky croaked out as he broke the kiss; his lips still brushed against yours as he spoke.
“I love you so much. So much, baby.” It crushed your heart to see his own cheeks glistening with tears. “Please, can we try again? Let me mend it. Please.” He begged.
Bucky sounded so helpless and so hopeful at the same time. If your heart was set in cold stone, it would still shatter for him like a fragile glass. 
“I should be the one mending it,” you pressed your fingertips to his cheek.
“Us. We’re going to do this together,” he briefly closed his eyes, leaning into your touch. 
“Always together,” you agreed and tipped your lips upwards, tempting Bucky into another kiss. 
Months of distance surely added fuel to the fire of need, but Bucky’s touch always had the power to ignite your desire. Him being on top of you, the kiss deepening, his hand traveling down your side - your body responded instantly. 
You wrapped your arms around him; one hand combing through his hair, the other mapping his broad back. Your legs were already spread to accommodate his hips between yours, but as Bucky continued to kiss and touch you, your knees drew up higher and your hips rolled against him.
Bucky’s responding grinding was most welcome, but he suddenly froze. 
“Baby,” he groaned, almost in pain. “I don’t want to ruin the moment, but if you keep doing that I’m going to lose it.”
“Need you,” you whined. 
You grabbed a fistful of his hair and slipped your other hand beneath his blue henley. You bit your bottom lip as you looked at him and rocked your hips into his once again.
“Need to feel you!” 
For months you were deprived of any intimate touch, somehow not in the mood to even give yourself a release with your pitiful toys. To even think of anyone beside Bucky ever touching you like that made you nauseous. And you missed it so much!
Missed the way Bucky played your body. The way he felt inside of you. 
“Bucky, please!” There was urgency in your tone that made Bucky snap to attention.
His gaze held yours for a moment longer, as if assessing that you were as sure as you sounded. A glint brightened his steel blue eyes and he swiped his tongue over his bottom lip in the most sensual way. That had your clit pulsing wildly. 
“You always beg so prettily,” he murmured against your skin as began chaining kisses along your jawline. “I’ve got you, baby.”
Bucky braced his weight on his metal arm as he used his other hand to pull up the layers of your tulle skirt. You shivered, nipples pebbling, as his touch shifted to the inside of your thigh and wandered upwards. 
He pressed the pads of his fingers against your throbbing clit, finding your panties already damp. It wasn’t a novelty how quickly your body responded to Bucky’s ministrations, but it seemed that longing for him sped up the process. 
Bucky swallowed your moan in a messy kiss as he pressed harder on your nub. While you loved the way he sometimes drew this pleasure out, how long he could spend just fingering and licking you, it wasn’t what you needed at the moment. 
You dropped both of your hands to his hips then slid them between your bodies to fumble with Bucky’s zipper.
“Fuck!” He cursed, dropping more of his weight onto you when you freed his cock out and wrapped your fingers around him. 
“I’m afraid I won’t last long this time,” he groaned, tugging the fabric of your panties aside. “I’ll make it up to you, baby, I promise. But, fuck, it’s been so long since I felt you-”
“Uh-huh,” you nodded fervently, not really listening to him. 
All your focus was on that throbbing need that spiked even higher as you guided the tip of Bucky’s cock inside you. 
It was everything - the stretch of his girth spearing through your neglected pussy, his scent and warmth, his mouth sucking on your neck, his moan at the feel of your tight walls gripping him - that had your body seizing in the most rushed climax. Already, while he was barely halfway in. 
You dug your fingernails into Bucky’s hips as your legs shook; your upper half curling up, face buried in the crook of Bucky’s neck to muffle your cries of pleasure. Your walls clenched so hard it was almost painful, then fluttered in a crescendo of aftershocks. 
“Sorry, sorry,” you babbled, falling onto your back and squirming as the orgasm continued to tingle in every part of your body.
“Sorry?” Bucky choked on breath. “My girl cumming for me so fast is an ego boost beyond any other,” he chuckled. 
He always had the ability to make you fall apart rather quickly, but that was a new record. Provided by suppressed sexual tension and emotional connection you were deprived of for so long. 
“Don’t worry, baby,” Bucky cooed as he continued to slide into your fluttering cunt, “I’ll give you more.” 
He shifted his hand, so that his thumb brushed over your swollen clit. He moved with no rush, but each of his thrusts was deep, nearly painfully so. As if Bucky sought more of that connection; needed it as fiercely as you. 
As promised, he made you cum again. Then shuddered within your embrace as he followed you over the edge. And though your heart was thundering in your chest from the exertion, it was the first time you felt complete and at peace since a very long time. 
You welcomed Bucky’s full weight as you laid spent, your hands drawing soothing patterns on his back. His cock was still nestled inside of you; neither of you wanted to lose that intimate connection too soon. You rested, listening to each other’s breathing and soaking in the comfort of being together. 
When Bucky fucked you again a while later, it was more languid and sensual. He made breathless vows of love, curling his metal fingers around your throat and squeezing just enough to spill more of your warm tears. He confessed his need for you in his life as he increased his pace, tilting your ass with his other hand, so he could spill deeper inside of you. 
In the morning, as he woke up early with the intention of going to the bakery and getting fresh treats for your family breakfast, there was so much brightness in Bucky’s eyes. So much love and happiness, like on the day your son was born.
As you looked at your own reflection in the mirror in his bathroom, you saw the same spark in your own eyes. 
593 notes · View notes
helluvapoison · 7 months
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how would the overlords propose?
Say Yes
how the overlords would propose
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
˚✧₊⁎ Carmilla Carmine ⁎⁺˳✧༚
Romance isn’t an afterthought to her, as hard as that is to believe. Carmilla is a very passionate woman… it just comes after logic. Whether you knew it or not, you’ve been put to the test much earlier on. (How you treat her daughters and how they like you is the most important part, if you didn’t pass you wouldn’t have made it this far)
By now she knows you’re worthy and she’ll bring you into her world permanently. Carmilla plans something intimate. She surprises you in her office for a candlelit dinner, courtesy of her private chef! She is a businesswoman first so she gets straight to the point and asks for your hand, literally, slipping the band into your finger.
“Marry me,” Carmilla says, uncharacteristically soft, “With you at my side, I will be complete.”
˚✧₊⁎ Zestial ⁎⁺˳✧༚
Telling himself there’s no rush, that he could wait a thousand more lifetimes to make you completely his, doesn’t cure the urgency to do it anyways. He’s seen any ounce of goodness down here nabbed before anyone else can take it for themselves. Zestial never claimed to be unselfish, only patient. He tests the question to himself first very early on. Then he phrases it differently to you or refers to himself as your husband to others. You mistake it for a slip up and smile anyways. A delightful sign in his eyes.
Zestial is pleased that you don’t suspect it. How could you when he’s merely being his usual, charming self? He takes you strolling down the same path you took when he first began courting you. Ever the gentleman, he pauses before the bridge over the river of magma and actually kneels.
“Would thou spend the rest of this infernal afterlife beside thyself? Say yes and I swear never to stray and never to allow harm to befall thee. Thou shall only know happiness from this moment on.”
˚✧₊⁎ Alastor ⁎⁺˳✧༚
Love at first sight doesn’t exist so do not twist his words when he says he knew you belonged to him the moment you met. Feelings were bothersome and you flooded his entire being with them with a simple gaze. Lingering between the emotions was always pain, which he was familiar with. Unfortunately for him, the cure for his ailment was always you. Marriage was not in the cards for either of you. Alastor thought he had no intention of going through such hassle until he couldn’t stop staring at the vacant spot on your ring finger. Bothersome.
Truly you had no idea what he was plotting. It wasn’t uncommon for him to bring you to his radio tower, going over notes with him or just quietly hanging about while he worked. He told you there would be a guest on his next show and he wanted to rehearse the questions. Simple enough. Before you even read the last one Alastor stopped you with a finger to the lips,
“Pardon my dear, you’ve been a wonderful co host— utterly indispensable these past few years— but that’s my line!” There’s a flicker of hesitation before his smile takes a slightly gentler form, a side of Alastor only you’re privy to, “Will you marry me?”
˚✧₊⁎ Rosie ⁎⁺˳✧༚
Since she was married a few times already, you thought Rosie would be over the whole thing by now. Well you couldn’t be more wrong if you tried! She adores weddings, from organizing them to being in them; the whole shabang is right up her alley! There was a reason her ex husbands didn’t work out but you don’t have to worry about the whys and whatnots. You’re oh so very special to Rosie, she couldn’t bear the thought of losing you!
The fact you think marriage is off the table has her giddy. She loves having the element of surprise! Cannibal’s left and right are in on the plot, making sure you’re exactly where you need to be all day long until you reach the town square at sunset. Crimson rose petals lead you to the gazebo where candles are lit all around your Radiant Rosie. She smiles so fondly at you it makes your knees weak as you climb the steps to reach her. She poured her love into two pages, prepared to make it her best speech ever but the second you were in front of her everything went out the window!
“Oh! I can’t wait another minute! Marry me, won’t you?”
~
╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ the vees might get their own part cause, i feel, they’re particular about marriage
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cameronspecial · 7 months
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Drew Starkey getting jealous of the chemistry between Jacob Elordi and actress!reader who's his girlfriend, since she plays a role in a movie... Can u please 😭😭
Something Better
Pairing: Drew Starkey x Reader
Warnings: N/A
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 0.5K
Masterlist
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Ever since watching Drew in The Other Zoey, Y/N has wanted to be in a rom-com. He just made it look like so much fun and she loved the idea of bringing a romance to life. So when she got the opportunity to play the romantic lead in a movie, she jumped at the chance to play the love-scorned woman, who is about to find love again thanks to her male co-star. “I have no idea what you are talking about, Owen,” Y/N recites, shrugging as she continues to pretend to file the documents. Jacob leans against the filing cabinet, “Come on, Abby. You know what I’m talking about.” His hand twirls in her hair as his breath begins to hit her ear. Y/N’s own breath begins to rise and fall at the sensation. Anyone watching the scene unfold can’t deny the chemistry they see between the two actors. Y/N elbows the boy away from her, “Not a clue.” She storms off-screen toward her mark off-set. “Cut,” the director calls from her chair, causing Y/N to pause in her tracks. “That’s a wrap on this scene. Take a break until we set up the next scene.” At the news, Y/N goes looking for her guest of the day. She easily spots his tall stature, running into his arms immediately. “What did you think, Bub?” she seeks his approval with her arms around his neck. 
Drew’s arms slot into the dip of her lower back, “You were amazing, Beautiful. Such a great actress.” Jacob comes up behind the couple and places a friendly hand on her shoulder. “You did great during this scene, Y/N/N. As always,” Jacob praises with a smile. Drew pulls Y/N out of Jacob’s touch and closer to him. His eyes narrow to slivers at the other man and his back straightens to close the height difference a little more. Y/N’s gaze darts between the two men. She holds back a little giggle, “Thanks, Jacob. I think Drew is hungry so we are going to go get something to eat.” Jacob nods at the pair and allows them to excuse themselves from the conversation.
Her head tilts to look at her boyfriend as they head toward Craft. “You were jealous,” she teases, poking at his cheek. Drew scoffs and stares straight ahead, “No I wasn’t. Just because you have chemistry with him doesn’t mean that I’m jealous of him.” “You think I have chemistry with Jacob?” she questions with a frown. Drew’s shoulder rises, “Maybe.” She stops walking and plants herself in front of him. Her warm hand is placed on his cheek to soothe him. “The only reason why it seems like I have chemistry with Jacob is because I was doing my job. I was pretending to,” she explains. “I don’t need to have chemistry with you because I didn’t need to feel a spark when I first met you to fall for you. My heart already knew I belonged to you long before I met you.” He isn’t sure if her words made entirely sense, but it makes sense to them and that is all that matters. It helps placate the green-eyed monster threatening to show its ugly head. “If that’s true, then who needs chemistry. I have something much better.” 
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming
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itz-mfkn-de · 10 days
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mattheo x hufflepuff innocent naive type reader 🫡
AHH I LOVE THESE TWO TG🥳🥳 I hope you wanted a toxic Mattheo because that’s what my brain envisions so 🤗 for some reason I couldn’t think of like a story line so I kinda did like headcanons but at the same time it’s like not??? Idk I just hope you like it 😭
Warnings: toxic! Mattheo, manipulations, cussing, power play, black mail.
Mattheo riddle who’s never really cared for any of the girls he’d fuck, all of them were just trophies on his wall. (Quite literally, toxic! Mattheo steals a bra from every girl he fucks and puts the up on his wall.)
He saw sex as an outlet, a way to destress, so sex with no strings attached was a common thing in his everyday life to say the least.
That was until he’d saw you.
He could’ve sworn in that moment his heart dropped —to his dick. He was enamored by your pure innocence. The way your hair framed your face, your eyes, everything screamed…virgin. To be completely honest, Mattheo didn’t really care for inexperienced girls; he found such a waste of time. But you? You were a different case.
Toxic! Mattheo who follows you into the library one evening and sees you studying for an upcoming test.
He took only a few long strides too reach you, quick to feign a friendly look.
“Hello, I couldn’t help but notice you were going over some test notes.” He stated while he loomed over your smaller frame.
All you could offer him in response was a meek “yes”.
He quickly inserted himself into your everyday life after that. Study parter, seating chart, shoulder to lean on, you name it and he was there right next to you.
He sugar coated his entire persona, never once lashing out or showing any red flags.
And then you got together. And on boy, did all hell break lose.
Mattheo was controlling. You wanted to go to a study group with some friends? Why, it’s not like he was there? You just want to leave him. He ould feed these thoughts into your head until you’d feel too guilty to leave him.
Not only was he controlling but he was manipulative. You wouldn’t leave your dorm if he didn’t thrill your outfit was appropriate. You belonged to him, so why were you trying to impress other guys? Why did you want him to get angry at you, he just can’t stay happy when you ‘go out dressed Like a slut.’ And you being the sweet, naive, girlfriend you were, you’d go change and beg for his forgiveness. Hoe could you have been so selfish and hurt him like that?
He knew just how to make you bend to his every word, he’d sweet yell and talk down at you just to shower you in affection. He knew you loved him, you relied on him. And he was right, you did.
He’d pressure you to leave your friends if they suggested leaving him, because ‘they just want to tear us apart, why can’t you see that?’. You just wanted your boyfriend to be happy :(
You’d beg him to stop smoking which would only lead to him screaming at you for acting like his mother. You don’t control him, don’t act like you do. You’d walk away crying which hed coo at you for, walking up to you to wipe your tears and comfort you for the pain he caused.
You’d become so isolated from your friends that you’d depend solely on him, your feeling and thoughts all controlled by Mattheo. You were his angel, and he made sure it was known you were his, fighting any guy who’d even dare to look at you. You tried reasoning with him once and it ended in him not taking to you for the entire day.
You were never allowed to talk to other guys, unless it was his best friends which even then, had to be supervised. He was all you needed.
Oh and don’t you ever think of leaving him. He’d be the kind of guy to take pictures of you while you were fucking, and if you tried to leave him he’d threaten to send it to every body in the school. You’d never mention leaving him again. W
At the end of the day, you were the sweet Hufflepuff girl who Mattheo riddle had absolutely ruined.
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mountttmase · 8 months
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Where You Belong
Note - happy Sunday 🤭 this was actually a request from my lovely Sid and now you guys get to enjoy it 😂 feedback would be appreciated and I hope you enjoy this little break from winter sun
Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader
Word count - 7.2k
Warnings - angst and fluff
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Late training sessions were never Mason's favourite.
In an ideal world he’d be home around three, get himself tucked into bed for a little nap before having the evening to himself but today was different.
Training didn’t finish until around 8pm however Luke had invited him round for a quick dinner and a few games of fifa so he wasn’t home until around eleven and all he wanted was to get into bed and sleep his life away.
Coming home to an empty house never got easier, just like getting into a cold bed still made his tummy sink but he’d made his bed and now he had to lie in it.
Literally.
The one thing Mason wasn’t expecting was his phone to start ringing just as he’d slipped under the covers. Groaning slightly as he rolled over to grab his phone so he could see who wanted him at this ungodly hour but the number wasn’t saved to his contacts and he didn’t recognise it so it let it ring until it stopped to see if they’d leave a message but it was ringing again before he had a chance to think.
Mason hated answering calls from strange numbers, but it was late and the fact that they’d called again straight away made him think he really needed to pick up so with a slight huff he sat up and hit the answer button.
‘Hello?’
‘H-hi, is that Mason?’
‘’Yeah it’s me’ he answered, unsure of who was asking after him but just as he was about to moan at whoever was on the other end for calling, the voice speaking to him suddenly clicked in his brain and his breath caught in his throat. ‘Wait, y/n is that you?’
‘Um y-yeah it’s me’ he heard the voice on the other line sniff and it’s like his world had stopped. He hadn’t heard that voice in two months and he was pretty sure he’d never hear it again but there you were. Calling him from a number he didn’t recognise, sounding more upset than he’d ever heard you.
Well maybe only once before.
‘Is everything okay?’ He asked tentatively, knowing you were upset on the other end but he was unsure as to why you were getting in contact after everything that had happened a few months prior.
‘Um no, not really’ you sniffed, ‘I was at a gig and I met these people and… well long story short they took all my stuff. I’m at the police station now and they said I could call someone and yours was the only number I could remember’ you told him, feeling a little silly now as you listened to his deep breathing on the other end of the line. Gulping down a nervous lump before carrying on. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t mean to wake you or anything I just-‘
‘It’s alright, where are you I’ll come and get you’
‘No, it’s fine I don’t-‘
‘Y/n, I’m coming to get you. Just tell me where you are’ he said sternly. Getting out of bed and stuffing himself into his shoes as you told him the address of the station you were at and thankfully it was only 15 minutes away. ‘Just stay where you are, I’ll come inside’
‘Yeah cause that’ll look great. Mason Mount spotted leaving Manchester police station in the early hours, I can see the headlines now’
‘Well I can’t exactly text you I'm outside, can I?’ He reasoned. ‘And I don’t want you standing out in the cold. Don't worry I’ll put my hood up and I’ve got my sunglasses just… I won’t be long just stay where you are’
Mason was out of the door as soon as you’d hung up. Driving well over the speed limit but it was all he could do to stop his mind whirling. This wasn’t how he’d planned to see you again but you needed him and no matter what he’d always come running.
He saw you before you saw him and he took a few seconds just to look at you. You looked so small and fragile, eyes downcast as they looked to your hands in your lap and all he wanted to was to hold you. But he was unsure as to how you might react to him so in the end he took a few small steps forward in hopes you’d look up and see him.
As soon as your eyes locked onto his Mason felt like he’d been shot. The pain ripping through his chest was almost suffocating as he took you in, your bottom lip wobbling and eyes filling with tears before you launched yourself at him.
•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡
Mason was probably the last person you wanted to call, but beggars can’t be choosers when you’re in the situation you’re in.
You hadn’t even realised it had happened till it was done, pushing yourself out of your comfort zone to take yourself out on a solo date as your favourite band were playing nearby and you’d always wanted to see them live. Your original plan was to go with your friend Jenny, but after that no longer was an option you figured you could go on your own so you didn’t miss out but the thought terrified you.
All was going well though and you even made some new friends with the group of people who were standing next to you but you should've known when they had to rush off at the end that something wasn’t right.
You reached into your bag for your phone to grab yourself an Uber home but your bag was empty. Not just your phone missing but your keys and purse and after a few minutes of panic you made your way over to someone who was working security and tearfully told her what had happened.
You didn’t want to make too much of a fuss, and when you had to take a trip to the police station so you could give a statement your night became even worse. This isn’t how you’d planned your night to go at all but the police officer who was dealing with you kept you calm and helped you block your cards before running through some options for everything else.
When it came to making a call you knew there was only one number you’d memorised for emergencies. There should have been no reason you’d ever have to rely on anyone else but things had changed and you were desperate.
You knew he wouldn’t pick up on the first ring if it was from a random number so you called back straight away and after four rings his sleepy voice came filtering through making your eyes sting immediately. You hadn’t heard it in so long and thought you might never again but you held it together as best you could.
As soon as you started speaking you felt stupid. What were you expecting him to do? He wasn’t yours anymore and he owed you nothing but as soon as you were able to explain you could hear him shuffling about to come and get you and the relief you felt was overwhelming
The wait for him felt like a lifetime. Sat there wondering what to say or do when he got there but you were so distraught and worked up by the time he was you did the first thing you could think of and threw yourself into his body. You knew he was shocked as it took him a second to get his bearings but soon enough he was wrapping you up in his arms and holding you close to his chest.
‘It’s alright, you’re fine’ he whispered into your hair. Rubbing your back to comfort you just like he used to but it just seemed to make your tears feel faster. ‘Come on, let’s go. We’ll go sit in the car yeah?’
You let him lead you out to his car. Getting yourself settled in his passenger seat as he ran around to the drivers side and you tried your best to calm yourself but you felt a little awkward now and his sympathetic expression was making you feel worse.
‘Are you alright?’
‘Yeah, bloody fantastic. What do you think?’ You huffed, feeling awful immediately as you knew he was only looking out for you but you couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eye as you felt your mood sink even further. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean that’
‘No it’s alright’ he whispered, playing with his fingers in his lap.
‘No it’s not’ you told him, holding back your tears as best you could before turning to him. ‘Thank you for coming to get me’
‘That’s okay’ he smiled softly, but you just felt like crying all over again. ‘Where do you wanna go now?’
‘I don’t even know’ you laughed, not having many options right now. ‘‘Can you go to Luke’s? I gave my spare key to Anouska’ you told him, not even thinking about what you were saying, but you knew from the moment his face dropped even further he was upset by what you’d said.
‘Oh uh, yeah sure’ he mumbled. Starting the car without another word and even though you wanted to talk to him and explain you didn’t think it would help too much.
The journey was silent, Mason looking straight ahead with a hard expression and you attempted to break the silence a few times but chickened out at the very last second each time as you could tell by the tense atmosphere that no matter what you said it wouldn’t make a difference. He was pissed, you just hoped he wouldn’t take it out on them.
‘Wait here, I’ll go and get it’ he told you, pulling up to Luke’s house and getting out the door before he’d even turned the engine off and you sighed as you watched him jog up the path. You knew Mason and you knew he was holding everything in so it was only a matter of time before he let it out. You didn’t know if it would be through anger or hurt but you kept your eye on him and he stood and waited for someone to answer the door.
‘Hey mate, sorry for just turning up’ Mason told Luke quietly after he answered the door. Luke looking a little sleepy but thankfully not annoyed at his sudden arrival.
‘Don’t be silly, is everything okay? Did you forget something?’ He asked, rubbing his eyes but as soon as he got a better look at Mason his expression changed to one of concern as he waited for the younger boy to speak.
‘Yea yeah fine, no listen um- it’s a long story but I’ve got y/n in the car and I need her spare key. She said Anouska keeps one here?’
‘Oh um- let me grab her one sec’ he mumbled, nodding his head inside so Mason could stand in the doorway rather than out in the cold and soon enough Luke was following in behind his wife.
‘Mase? Is everything alright?’
‘Y/n’s had all her stuff stolen tonight. I’ve just picked her up from the police station’
‘Oh my god, is she alright?’
‘She’s fine, they took in without her knowing so she’s not hurt or anything just upset. I’m just taking her home but we can’t get in cause she’s got no keys but apparently you’ve got a spare?’
‘Oh, yeah I’ll go grab it for you’ she told you quietly, grabbing a key from the rack before handing it over and Mason just gave a nod before turning to leave.
Something stopped him in his tracks though. Turning back to face them and the broken look on his face made Anouska’s lip wobble.
‘I asked you guys where she was so many times, every time you said you had no idea but you knew along? How could you do that to me?’ He asked quietly, the hurt in his voice evident at his friend’s betrayal but they were quick to try and reassure him.
‘No it’s not like that at all Mason I promise’ Anouska started but her voice started to wobble so Luke took over.
‘We really didn’t have any idea, mate. We’ve only had the key for two weeks, She showed up out the blue and made us swear not to say anything’ Luke explained but even if it had been two weeks he was still upset about being kept in the dark.
‘I’m really sorry, Mase. She’s got no one and I was just trying to look out for her, I thought it’s what you’d want’ Anouska told him, and Mason didn’t have anything to say. Upset his closest friends had been secretly hiding you behind his back but his emotions were all over the place from everything that was going on tonight and he didn’t want to make everyone feel worse so in the end he just nodded before bidding them a farewell and sulking back to the car.
‘Don’t be mad at them, It was me who made them keep quiet’ you told him after he’d handed the key over to you but he just shrugged. Clearly not in the mood to talk about it so you let him drive away, afraid the silence might consume you.
‘Where am I going?’ He asked quietly as he neared the end of their road and you let him know you’d direct him back to your flat. It was about a half an hour drive over to the other side of town and you were thankful for the low music he played so it wouldn’t be too awkward.
Once you arrived back at your flat you thought Mason might want to leave but he came up with you. You’d moved in two weeks after your break up and had just taken the first semi acceptable place that was available. Under any normal circumstances you would have second guessed showing Mason this place but your need to have someone nearby in your hour of need outweighed the part of your brain that was embarrassed by the tiny flat you now called your own.
‘Sorry about the mess’ you told him quietly as you both walked in but he just gave you a tight but reassuring smile.
‘Don’t worry about it, you should see my bathroom right now, it’s a right state’ he laughed, thankful he seemed to be perking up a little but you hated the way he referred to it as his bathroom. He used to call it our bathroom, the one you shared before things took a turn. ‘What did the officers say happen now?’
‘There should be someone round soon to change the locks over and then they’ll call me later on tomorrow if they’ve got any updates’ you confirmed, watching him eye your living room carefully and you felt your heart sink. ‘Listen, thanks for walking me up, but you can go if you like’
‘I think it’s best I stay, just until the locks are changed at least. There’s random people walking about with your keys so I’ll stay for a bit to be safe’ he told you and his concern for you even now melted your heart just a tiny bit.
‘Take a seat then’ you told him. Nodding to the sofa in the corner before following him over to take the seat next to him. Squishing yourself into the side so your thighs didn’t touch but thankfully he seemed to be having the same idea to keep as far apart as you possibly could on the worn out sofa.
‘So you were at a gig tonight?’ He asked quietly after a few moments of silence, clearly wanting to make a bit of conversation after an hour or so of being understandably standoffish with you and you nodded whilst keeping your eyes looking forward.
‘Yeah’
‘On your own?’
‘Yeah’
‘‘It’s not like you to go out on your own’ he commented and you had to gulp down a nervous lump.
‘Well I wasn’t meant to be but my plus one couldn’t go’ you told him. Trying to be vague on purpose to avoid an awkward conversation but you felt him tense up besides you.
‘Oh’ he breathed, nodding his head solemnly but you weren’t quite sure why he’d suddenly turned so moody again and you figured you should explain a little more even if it did take you down a path you didn’t want to be going down.
‘Yeah, Jenny and I don’t talk anymore and I paid for the tickets in the first place so I sold the other one and went in my own’
‘Jenny? You were meant to go with Jenny?’ he asked, face slightly shocked but you could detect a hint of relief in there too.
‘Yeah? Why, who do you think I meant?’
‘Well I don’t know… I thought you meant like a date or something’ he told you awkwardly and even though you knew it was an easy conclusion to come to you still felt your anger rise inside of you.
‘A date? We’ve been broken up for two months, Mase. Is that what you think of me?’ You laughed, slightly in disbelief at what he seemed to be accusing you of.
Well no-‘
‘Is that what you’ve been doing?’ You asked, looking at him with furrowed brows, noticing his expression matched yours.
‘No, I didn’t-‘
A knock at the door snapped the pair of you out of your little argument. Mason standing up to go and answer if before you got a chance and from what you could hear, it sounded like the locksmith here to sort the locks out.
Mason always had the gift of the gab and you were in no mood for plesentaries so you left them to chat, thankful he was taking charge for you even if things before had just taken a weird turn and before long Mason offered him a cup of tea and he reappeared in front of you again.
‘Why don’t you go have a shower and get changed or whatever. I can deal with this’ he offered and even though the thought of being under the hot water sounded like heaven you didn’t want to leave this all up to him when it was your mess.
‘It’s fine-’
‘Please’ he interrupted, his hand gently touching your shoulder before he pulled back. ‘It’s been a long night for you and there’s no point in you being sat out here like a lemon. I’ll come and find you when it’s done, yeah?’
‘Okay’ you told him quietly. Secretly happy he was taking the responsibility away from you. ‘I’ll just be in there’ you whispered, nodding to the door in the far corner of the room and with one final small smile he stepped into your kitchen to make a cup of tea.
You let the warm water of the shower consume you. Not realising how tense you were until you tried to relax and it took more effort than you realised. Raising the temperature of the water ever so slightly try and relax yourself even further but your mind was going a mile a minute.
You couldn’t believe how tonight had gone. You were having the time of your life out of your comfort zone with some people you’d put your trust in for the night but your massive highs always seemed to be followed by massive lows lately. Still not believing you’d been so easy to exploit and that they’d taken your stuff without you even realising.
You tried holding your tears in, having not cried properly since the whole ordeal happened but now you were at home with Mason so close by you could feel your walls slipping again.
You felt silly and exposed. All the things you were protective of had been taken away from you from right under your nose and you couldn’t believe you’d let it happen. You were usually so aware of what was going on but these last few weeks and tonight especially made you realise maybe you weren’t as switched on as you thought.
Once you were done in the shower you slipped into your pjs before laying ontop of your bed. Not wanting to get fully inside right now as Mason was still here and you didn’t want to fall asleep without saying goodbye but the longer you sat in your own thoughts the more upset you became.
You could hear him laughing and chatting away outside. A sound you’d hadn’t heard much of in the last month or so of your relationship as the lair of you grew further apart and you missed it terribly. All you could think about was it being your fault things had turned out how they had and after the stress of the last few hours you felt your eyes sting again.
You were determined not to cry, hugging you pillow to your chest as you squeezed your eyes shut tight but the sobs were only moments away and when you heard your front door shut you couldn’t help but finally let things out as you realised it was just you and Mason alone again.
You’d known it this whole time but it really hit you just how much you still loved him in that moment. The fact he’d saved you in your hour of need, taken you home and taken care of what needed to be done so you could relax overwhelmed you as you weren’t sure you could be so kind if he’d treated you the same as you had him and the thought only made you even more upset knowing you may never get back to how you were.
Mason opened your door slowly, not sure if you were asleep or not and even though the room was dark he could still make out the slight shake of our shoulders as you fought to hold it together. Laying facing away from him so he couldn’t see you and the longer he stood there the louder your sobs became.
Mason was stuck, not sure if you wanted to be left alone or if maybe you needed his comfort but in the end he pushed his worries to the side and went to you. It always broke him seeing you upset and right now was no different so he carefully popped himself onto the bed behind you and pulled you body into his chest. Holding you close as you buried your head into the pillow.
‘It’s alright, sweetheart, just let it out’ he whispered, the sound of his gentle voice breaking down what little composure you had left and you let your cries eat you up from the inside. Your body shaking violently as you let go of everything you had inside of you and you even surprised yourself at his upset you were about everything.
‘Hey, come on baby it’s alright’ you heard him murmur, his own voice sounding emotional as he moved to sit up before reaching for you. Pulling you up and into his lap so he could hold you properly and you cried into his neck as he slowly rocked you back and forth whilst whispering in your ear repeatedly that everything would be okay.
He let you cry it out, not rushing you at all or making you calm down quicker than you needed to he just patiently sat and waited for you to raise your head and his devastated expression almost set you off again.
‘Please don’t cry anymore’ he whispered against your forehead before placing the softest kiss between your eyebrows. The physical affection making you want to cry all over again but you held it together.
‘I’m sorry, it’s just been a lot tonight’
‘I know,’ he agreed. Nodding his head as you attempted to wipe your eyes but the feel of his arms around your body and he held you almost like a baby kept your tears flowing silently. ‘Can I ask you something?’ He whispered after a short while. Waiting until you nodded before he carried on talking. ‘Why don’t you and Jenny speak anymore? You told me she was like a sister to you’ he asked you carefully, knowing it must have been a touchy subject but you knew you needed to be honest with him now. He deserved the truth after all you’d put him through and all he’d done for you tonight when you didn’t deserve his kindness.
‘Yeah well, I realised a few things about her’ you told him quietly. Looking up to meet Mason's eyes and the sadness in them made your lip wobble. ‘I’m so sorry’ you whispered.
‘Sorry? What are you sorry for?’
‘I let her get into my head, let her say horrible things about you. I let her get in between us and I know it’s not all her and I played my part but I shouldn’t have listened to her’ you sobbed. ‘I ruined everything’
‘Hey come on’ he breathed, his voice wobbling as he pulled you back into his chest. ‘Don’t cry anymore’
‘I didn’t mean to hurt you’
‘I know bubs’ he whispered. Kissing your temple softly as you calmed yourself back down. ‘What happened?’
What had happened?
Jenny was a bit of a sore subject for the pair of you. You’d met her a week or so after moving to Manchester all those months ago and the pair of you had become fast friends. With Mason always being busy it was easy for the pair of you to spend time together but to say she wasn’t Mason's biggest fan was an understatement.
When you first moved to Manchester, Mason was here, there and everywhere. It was lonely being so far away from everything and everyone you knew but you were determined to make the best of things so when a girl came up to you in a coffee shop to compliment your bag, you gave her a wide smile and offered her a seat rather than shying away like usual.
Jenny had lived in Manchester all her life so when you explained you hadn’t and didn’t really know anyone around here she was quick to give you her number and let you know she would be free whenever to show you her favourite spots.
She was bright and bubbly and just the right sort of person you needed in your life at the time but there was just one problem.
You could tell she was suspicious of Mason from the beginning. You tried telling her that he would be busy a lot with the new season starting in a brand new team but she couldn’t seem to get her head around why he was always away. Asking why he’s dragged you all the way up here just to ignore you and whilst you understood what it looked like from the outside, you and Mason were as strong as a rock.
That didn’t stop Jenny from trying to make you see sense though. Taking every opportunity she could to tear him down in front of you and whilst it was growing tiring she was your only friend up here and you didn’t want to lose her.
Everyday she would ask about him, wondering where he was and who he was with. Wondering why he wasn’t spending time with you and you didn’t know when, but soon enough her words started to stick. Every missed diner or unreplied to text that you used to think nothing of suddenly was sticking out to you like never before and you wondered if she was right.
It all came to head when you invited him to a dinner with some of the girls and their boyfriends and when Mason told you he wasn't available you didn’t even give him a chance to explain. Ignoring him for the rest of the day before getting dolled up for a night out without him.
‘You need to be strong, babe. Be firm with him and say it’s not acceptable. There’s not an excuse in the world that I’d accept for him not coming tonight, you don’t deserve to be treated like this’ Jenny told you. ‘You wait until you’ve found someone else, he’ll regret it then and he won’t be able to do anything about it’
You were late home on purpose, not ready to talk to him yet but to your surprise he’d waited up for you. His face full of sorrow as he tried to get your attention but you ignored him on purpose. Sleeping in the guest room before the pair of you engaged in a heated row the next morning.
You hadn't given him a chance to tell you what he was doing as you spent your time ignoring the day before but he was just as pissed as you were this morning. Furious with you for not hearing him out and telling you that the whole reason he wasn’t able to go out with you last night was because he was booked in for a charity event for children who were learning to read and speak English and he thought you were coming with him.
You tried not to let him get to you. You knew his charity work was important to him and you knew you’d agreed to go with him months ago but you’d been so wrapped up in Jenny that you’d forgotten all about it. In the end, trying to turn things onto him and making out like he hadn't reminded you or told you about it yesterday but he confessed he’d given up trying with you.
You said so many things you wished you could take back now. Things you knew weren’t true but you’d been spoon fed to believe and once again you didn’t give him a chance to say his piece properly. Ranting at him for as long as you could before locking yourself away again.
When Mason left for training you’d called Jenny, crying down the phone to her about everything that had happened and she convinced you to pack your things and get out. Even coming round to help you finish off and and drive you away so you could stay with her for a few days whilst you found a place of your own.
As soon as Mason realised what was happening he was blowing up your phone. Demanding to see you and talk things out but you refused, hanging up on him in the end before sending him a text to let him know you needed space but you were done and not to message you again before you blocked him.
Life without Mason was hard but you had Jenny by your side at all times. Constantly reminding you that you’d made the right choice and that when you were ready the pair of you would go out and find you a man that would put you first.
That was two months ago, and you’d been miserable everyday. Each moment passing making you think you’d messed up but you didn’t realise how much until two weeks ago.
‘Two weeks ago, we were out getting lunch and I popped to the loo. When I came back this girl she knew passed by and she got up to give her a hug and stuff but she left her phone face up on the table and I could see she was trying to message you on insta’ you told him. Looking up to see his face looking confused. ‘I took her phone and scrolled to the top and she’d been DMing you from the day we ended things. I think that’s the only reason she ever spoke to me was to get to you’
‘I’m sorry sweetheart’ he tutted, brushing your hair back from your face so he could place a gentle kiss on your forehead again. ‘What did you do?’
‘When she sat back down I told her my locks were getting changed the next day and if I could have my key back before pretending to take a call outside. I just went straight home and sent her a text saying I knew what she was up to and you’d never go near her in a million years’ you told him with a slight laugh, smiling as he chuckled under you before you felt him reach for his phone.
‘Find her for me?’ He asked, opening up instagram so you could pull up her profile and look at the messages she’d sent him. Even now reading them back made you skin crawl but you watched masons expression change to a disgusted one as he read the first ones through.
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‘Why would she send me this shit?’ He laughed, coming out of the messages so he could go back to her profile and block her before throwing his phone to the side and looking back down at you. ‘I’m sorry she’s not who you thought she was’
‘It's fine’ you shrugged. Not caring about her or what she’d done to you anymore but the sympathetic look on his face made your heart thump. ‘Why are you being so nice to me? I was shit to you’ you asked. It only really hitting you now that you were broken up still but the way he was being so soft and loving with you made your heart race.
‘Cause I love you’ he told you seriously and you felt your whole body freeze. Loved you? Still? ‘Yeah we may not like each other a whole lot right now but I’ll always love you, y/n’ he confirmed and you felt your eyes sting.
‘I still like you’ you whispered, watching his face soften a touch, both smiling tearily as you came to the realisation things weren’t as bad as it seemed and you could have sworn you felt him hold you a little tighter.
‘I still like you, too’ he nodded, but you were overwhelmed by his kindness and felt yourself getting upset again.
‘God I’m so fucking stupid’ you laughed, nuzzling into his neck and you laughed at the way he held you slightly tighter.
‘Hey, don’t say that’
‘But I am. I walked out on you when you’ve been the best thing that ever happened to me, took some random girls side who was fucking me over the whole time and then befriending a local gang of theives’ you joked before it hit you again that all your stuff had been taken. ‘I can’t believe all my stuff’s gone’
‘It’s okay, we can replace it all’ he reassured you and your heart broke at the way he was trying to help even though there were certain things that couldn’t be replaced.
‘I know but my phone’
‘It’s just a phone love, we can get you a new one’ he told you, but that wasn’t the reason why you were so upset about it. You couldn’t care less about the actual phone itself as you knew you could get a new one whenever but it was the stuff on the phone rather than the phone itself.
‘It’s not the phone, it’s what was on it. It’s gone and I can’t replace all that’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I’ve got years worth of pictures and memories on there, I never backed my phone up or anything so they’ve all gone. And yeah maybe I’d have to get rid of them at some point but I wasn’t ready to let them go yet. To let you go.’
‘I’m right here bubs. You can’t get rid of me that easily’ he whispered. Cradling your face as he gazed into your eyes lovingly. ‘Whatever you lost, I’ve probably still got it on my phone so when we get you a new one I can just send it all over’
‘Really?’ You sobbed, relief washing through you as you realised not everything was so hopeless so you just held him as tight as you could and breathed in his scent that you’d missed so much. ‘I don’t deserve you’
‘Look at me’ he whispered. Pulling back so you could look in each other's eyes and then softness in them made you melt. ‘You’ve stuck by me through thick and thin for years. Every game, every tournament, whatever it was you were there for me. I know I wasn’t the greatest at being there for you but I promise you I’ll try a lot harder if you’ll let me’
‘No, Mase none of this was ever your fault. I was being selfish, like even when you told me the next day why you couldn’t make it to that dinner I was still so blinded by everything Jenny had told me I didn’t care but now I can’t believe I ever acted that way’ you told him. ‘I’m sorry I let her make me think you didn’t give me enough time when I know you gave me everything you had. I’m sorry I just left without really giving us a chance to talk through things and I’m sorry I made your friends lie for me’ you whispered. ‘Please don’t be mad at them, I made them promise not to say anything’
‘Why didn’t you just come back to me’ he uttered, his voice sounding the saddest you’d heard it all night and it was close to breaking you.
‘I was ashamed’ you gulped ‘I thought you’d turn me away’
‘I wouldn’t have, I promise’ he told you tearily. ‘I had a feeling there was more to it but I’ve missed you every day, you know? Your my one and I’ve been going out of my mind not being able to get hold of you’
‘I’ve missed you too’ you sobbed, hiding away in his neck again as you held each other tightly. Mason going back to rocking you from side to side in hopes it would calm you down and soon enough your sobs turned to sniffles and you pulled back to look at him properly.
You couldn’t class the dark marks under his eyes as bags, they were more like suitcases he’d been carrying the weight of the world in. His skin pale in comparison and you knew it was because he probably wasn’t looking after himself properly in the months you’d gone but your heart thumped when you reached out to cup his jaw and he turned his head in your hand so he could kiss your palm before melting into your touch.
‘You look exhausted’ Mase. I’m so sorry for making you get up to come and get me’
‘Don’t be, I’m glad you did’
‘Will you stay tonight? Like in here with me?’ You asked quietly, hoping the pleading look in your eyes would wear him down but he was nodding straight away. Holding you closer before pulling back to look at you and the cheeky smile on his face made your heart thump as you hadn’t seen it in so long.
‘You better budge up then, what size bed is this anyway?’ He joked as he helped you off of him and you felt your face flush as you pulled back the covers.
‘It’s a small double, there’s not enough room in here for a normal sized one’ you laughed, crawling inside and you felt yourself go shy as he kicked off his shoes and joined you.
‘I’m only kidding, love.
‘You don’t have to be kind, I know it’s awful here’
‘It’s cozy’ he said softly. Apprehensively reaching for you but once he realised you were happy for him to hold you he pulled you into his chest and you felt your whole body relax.
‘It’s shit’ you laughed, nuzzling down into his chest before looking up into his kind eyes.
‘Why did you stay here then? In Manchester I mean. Thought you would have gone back to London with everyone since you’re only here because of me’
‘I guess the only one good thing about Jenny was she convinced me to stay’ you huffed. ‘It was probably just to feed me more lies about you but she said he’d look out for me up here as if I went home everyone would tell you where I am’
‘You know what, she’s probably right. I’ve been on at everyone constantly since you left but no one would tell me anything’
‘I’m so sorry’ you breathed. ‘I really am so sorry Mase but I’m here now and I promise I’ll make this right. If you still want me’
‘I’ll always want you’ he confirmed quietly. Lips falling to your forehead again so he could place a gentle kiss there and you couldn't hold in the shiver that ran down your spine. ‘And you know I’ve always got room for you. You know in our house we picked together’ he teased, tears filling your eyes and what he might be suggesting. The thought of being home too much for you to take right now. ‘First World problems but you don’t know how hard it is to be there and be reminded of you every bloody place I look’
‘Well maybe we can figure something out then’ you laughed. Excited about the prospect of being home with him where you belonged but unsure if it was too soon.
‘Just come home please, love’
‘Isn’t it too soon?
‘We both know you’ll be back sooner or later, and I’m never letting you go anywhere again so we might as well just crack on’ he joked, tucking his head into your hair as you both clung to one another. ‘Do you still work half days on Friday?’
‘I do’ you laughed, your heart leaping at the way he remembered the most random things about you.
‘Okay perfect. Pack up what you can tomorrow afternoon then and I’ll come by after training and help and then we’ll get you back home okay? Back where you belong’
‘Okay’ you whispered, too dumbfounded to say anything else but you knew when you saw his eyes flash to your lips you wanted to kiss him instantly. Thankfully his lips were already closing in on yours so you just shut your eyes and let him kiss you.
It was the softest kiss you’d ever shared. Full of nerves and caution but as you kissed him back it became one of longing and you held each other as tight as you could almost as if you were afraid the other might vanish into thin air. Only pulling back when Mason got the giggles and had to hide his face in your hair again.
‘What’s wrong?’ you laughed, trying to look at his face and as soon as he let you, you realised how blushy his cheeks were.
‘Nothing I’m just… just happy we’re back’
‘Me to’ you agreed. Letting him pull you back up for another heated kiss that you didn’t want to end. Finally feeling whole again, back where you belonged in the arms of the man who meant more to you than anyone or anything else.
Thank you so much for reading, I really hope you enjoyed it and I’d love it if you could leave me some feedback 🩷
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mischievousmoony · 3 months
Text
𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜' ⟡ 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟸
⟢ james potter x black!reader (fem)
⟢ summary: after your parents cross the line, you and your older brother sirius find sanctuary at the potters'. however, things don’t go so smoothly at first . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ 3.6k
⟢ warnings/tags: abusive parents, james’ clothes are described as baggy on the reader, siblings fighting, fluff then angst
⟢ part 1 ⟡ part 2 ⟡ part 3 ⟡ masterlist
note: my writing's so rustyyyy the dialogue is so off but im so done editing. and this is gonna need a few more parts, i keep getting carried away.
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The Potters' house was very different from yours. It was the first thing you noticed when you woke up. Back home, it felt like Grimmauld Place existed under a perpetual storm cloud. Here, sunshine cannot be escaped. The curtains were drawn closed, but light still filtered in from both sides, almost pleading for them to be opened so that it might do its duty of brightening the house.
Another thing you noticed were birds, who sang pretty songs from right outside your window. You can't remember ever hearing any birds outside your home, and there were plenty of trees for them to nest in. In fact, you started to believe that the aura of your house scared all living things away. Realistically, it was probably all of the yelling and screaming.
As you lie in an unfamiliar room and think of all the reasons why you preferred it over your own, three gentle knocks beat on your door. They sounded different than James' quick staccato, and nerves bubbled in your stomach because you couldn't guess who was on the other side.
You took a deep breath, told yourself that you didn’t have to be so on edge here, and called for the person to come in as you sat up. The knock pattern automatically filed itself away in your brain as belonging to Mrs. Potter. She walked in, carrying a silver tea tray.
"Good morning, dear. Sleep well?" She greeted you as she made her way to your bedside.
"Yes, Ma'am." You said politely.
"Oh, please call me Effie," she insisted as she placed the tray on the bedside table and moved to draw open your curtains. You imagined the sunshine saying thank you for finally letting it in.
“I’ve brought up some tea for you. I wasn't sure how you liked it, alas..." Effie waved her hand over the tray.
The tray had the basics: a teapot, sugar, and a small milk pitcher. However, Effie had also laid out various tea bags for you to choose from, along with some warm biscuits.
“Thank you,” you said in awe as you stared at the display. It was a simple tea setting, really, but the thoughtfulness still had you feeling choked up.
"I spoke with James this morning. May I?" Effie gestured to the edge of your bed, and you welcomed her to sit. "He woke Monty and me up at the crack of dawn, insisting that we let you and your brother stay permanently. Even had tears in his eyes. I tell you, that boy has his father’s big heart."
"Anywho, I nearly tossed a pillow at him for waking me up so early, as if I’d even consider an alternative! But I got to thinking, if James felt like we needed convincing, then we better make sure you and Sirius don’t feel any unease either.”
Effie reached for your hands that lay folded in your lap. “So,” she paused a moment to allow you the chance to shoo her off before placing her hand over yours. “I felt it was important to tell you personally that you are welcomed in this home and this family, assuming you’ll have us, for as long as you need us. That sounds like a good deal to you?”
You bit back tears, “Yea- yes. I think that sounds lovely.”
Effie smiled and squeezed your hands, “Can I give you a hug, dear?”
“Yes, please.” you croaked.
Effie wrapped her arms around you, and you let a few tears loose while she couldn’t see you, wiping them away with your thumb as soon as they appeared. The hug felt warm and unfamiliar, and you wondered if there was a time that your parents ever hugged you like this. If they did, you didn’t remember it.
From behind Effie’s back, you watched James waltz over through your blurry vision. He became distracted by the surprise that the bedroom door was already opened, eyeing it before anything else in the room as he leaned against the doorframe.
“Good morning, sunsh- Mum! You’re in here!”
Effie pulled back from you and craned her neck to look over her shoulder at her son, who was standing up as straight as a board in the doorway. She raised an eyebrow at him, sensing his sudden weirdness.
“I was just welcoming Y/N to our home, like we discussed. Are you alright, dear?” Effie tilted her head.
“‘m splendid, Mum.” James said it with a goofy smile, rocking back and forth on his heels.
She drew her eyebrows together and said, "Lovely, James. What can we do for you?"
"Me? Do for me?" James' eyes widened.
Effie shook her head, perplexed by her son’s reaction.
"I'm wondering what brings you here, James?"
"Ah. I was just in the area," James said, doing a poor job at acting casual. "Y'know, the upstairs... area. Uh, so I thought I'd say good morning... Good morning!"
You thought that this must be the kind of thing people face palm over.
“Hm,” Effie squinted at her son, studying him for a moment before deciding to worry about whatever that was later. She turned back towards you, “Anywho, this is your room now, so I hope it's to your liking. We can see about changing these sheets and painting the walls however you’d like-”
“It’s perfect!” You interrupted, looking bashful for doing so, but Effie didn't seem to mind.
“Well, feel free to customize it any other way. Any posters?” Effie offered.
"I didn't have time to grab that sort of thing,” you admitted, and immediately felt stupid for doing so. Effie clearly just wanted you to feel at home, and you felt like you were being a downer.
But if it phased Effie, she didn’t show it.
"Well then, that means we get to go buy some new ones, yeah?"
She gave your hands a final squeeze before standing up, saying, “I better let you wake up and enjoy the tea,” and walking towards the hall.
Effie affectionately patted James on the cheek as she passed him.
“Have you had breakfast, dear?”
“Mum!” James shrank away from her, his face growing hot. “I will in a minute!”
She tsked at him, gave his cheek one last pinch, and made her way out of the room. James hung from the doorframe into the hall to watch her go. When she was out of sight, he dipped into your room and shut the door silently behind him.
James' back pressed against the closed door as he shot you a toothy grin.
"Good morning, sunshine," he repeated.
You can't help but giggle at him while saying, "Good morning, Jamie."
As he walked over you, his smile slightly faded as a hint of sadness crept onto his face when he noticed your teary eyes.
One thing you loved about James was that he never resorted to any of those hollow phrases like "don't cry" or "stay strong" when he tried to make you feel better. Instead, he always concocted the perfect cure for the situation. Today, it was goofiness and a lot of kisses.
James made a big show of acting innocent as he approached. He whistled some tune and looked anywhere but you before he suddenly dived at you, embracing your waist with a gentle yet decisive sweep of his arms. He flung his body into the mattress, dragging you down with him. You yelped and chided him through laughter.
When you landed, you were tangled awkwardly—your body twisted so that your torso was on top of his, but his legs were draped over yours. James' arms were still wrapped tightly around your waist, keeping you trapped as he peppered kisses on your face. He kissed your cheeks and the corner of your eyes, then your eyelids, effectively kissing away any stray tears.
You were a fit of giggles by the time his lips reached the tip of your nose. Next up, he dipped his head to kiss each side of your mouth before finally capturing your lips with his. You giggled through the feathery kisses he pressed on your lips, and he couldn't help but follow in your footsteps as he smiled against you.
Soon, laughter overtook you both. Yet you remained close, with your noses brushing against each other and your foreheads pressed together, as your happy laughter filled the room.
Eventually, James' laughter began to die down. He removed one of his hands from your waist to help brush your hair back into place, it having gotten disheveled from his attack.
You settled down as well, letting the touch of his fingertips in your hair calm you. He took notice and continued running his fingers through your hair, even after it was all brushed out of your face.
For a peaceful moment, you gazed into his eyes, which were filled with admiration and mirrored your own. James watched as a glint of mischief suddenly sparkled in your eyes.
"So," you voiced.
"Mhm," he hummed.
"You've clearly never tried to hide something from your mum before."
"Why would I 'ave had to hide something from my mum before?" James pouted, briefly bringing your giggles back. "Only reason I haven't gushed to her about my beautiful girlfriend," James gave your waist a squeeze, "is 'coz she would have qualms with me lying to a friend."
"Oh, so I guess we better go tell Sirius then, yeah? I wouldn't want to make you lie to your dear mum, I like her." You teased, amused by James' eyes widening nervously.
You've talked about telling your brothers before, but it's something neither of you were quite ready for—you were too fond of the blissfulness you found in the privacy of your relationship.
"Er, I don't particularly feel like getting socked in the face today." James said.
"Oh, come on. You think he'd react that badly?" You carried on.
"I think Sirius punching me would be a mild reaction for him." James grimaced, "He'll probably hex me into the next century. And I get chills thinking about what would happen if Regulus were to find out. Oh, I'd be a dead man. Or he'd put an irreversible curse on my bloodline. It's a tossup, really."
Your smile faltered at the mention of your twin brother, suddenly remembering your situation. You let yourself get distracted by the warm welcome from Effie and James' affection. How could you lay here happily while Regulus is still stuck at that house?
Your expression suddenly grew very solemn as you began squirming out of James' grip. "Where's Sirius?" you asked.
James seemed to choke on his own spit. "Uh, pardon? You're not really planning on telling him today?” Despite his protest, James loosened his grip, not wanting to keep you somewhere you didn’t want to be. “At least let me put my Quidditch gear on, I might need the protective padding."
You had tunnel vision the moment Regulus’ name was mentioned, but you realized what James was saying by the time he mentioned protective padding.
“Not that, James. I need to find out about Reg.”
His mouth formed an O shape as you stood at the foot of the bed with your hands on your hips.
“So do you know where he is?”
“Uh, eating breakfast probably,” James guessed, “in the dining room.”
You stared at him expectantly and after a while of him not moving, you huffed, “I don’t know where that is, James!”
“Right!” James scrambled up from the bed so he could lead you through the house. You could’ve found it if you wandered long enough, but the Potters’ house was fairly large, and you wanted to talk to Sirius as soon as possible.
By the time James had led you to the kitchen, you could see Sirius in the next room over through the open archway. You pushed past James at once.
Sirius was alone at the head of the table, various platters of breakfast food surrounding him. The kitchen was hot when you passed through it, so one of James’ parents must have just been cooking, but they were nowhere to be seen now. Sirius was shoveling some sausage onto his plate when he saw you.
“Sirius,” you said sternly as your hands returned to your hips.
“Look who’s finally up!” Your brother cheered, “Just in time to eat.” He gestured at the seat next to him.
James appeared at your side, and said, “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Maybe you should have some before you-”
“Where is Regulus?” You interrupted, ignoring James altogether.
James’ utterance of “Yeah, didn’t think so” was lost on your ears.
With a scowl on his face, Sirius turned his attention away from his meal. His eyes scanned over you, and his scowl twisted into an amused expression. “Nice outfit!” he snorted.
You looked down briefly to see yourself drowning in James’ clothes. Being much taller than you, James' sweats pooled at your ankles. You rolled your eyes.
“Stop it, Sirius. Where is our brother?”
Sirius squinted at you. You thought he was finally going to give you answers when he decisively opened his mouth, but instead, “You should sit and eat. James is right, breakfast is the most-”
“Sirius!” You raised your voice, your hands molding into fists as your arms dropped to your sides.
Sirius threw his fork down with a clatter, “What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to tell me why he’s not here with us.” Your pleading voice cracked as you begged your brother for answers, stepping closer to him.
Sirius had a stormy, faraway look in his eyes, as if recalling something poignant. “The only one who can answer that question is him, so you’re out of luck,” he said bitterly.
The simmering anger in your chest started to bubble, rising up to your throat until you were spitting words that you would later regret. “You left him there!” you accused.
“Excuse me?” Sirius sent a deadly stare your way as he slowly pushed his chair back and stood up.
“Woah,” James tried to interrupt, moving to stand between you two, “Maybe we wanna take a moment and-”
You stepped around James, and his remaining words were drowned out by your raised voice: “I said you left him there. He’s not here because of you.”
“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!” Sirius bellowed, growing more irritated with you.
“Then why not enlighten me, Sirius!?”
“He chose to stay!" he disclosed. "Alright? I know you think so highly of your favorite brother, but he chose that place!”
“That’s ridiculous,” you scoffed, crossing your arms and looking away.
You ignored Sirius' choice words of "favorite brother." You weren't going to let yourself get distracted by that conversation, which you've had a countless number of times already. Sirius was sensitive to the fact that Regulus was your twin brother, and Sirius would always just be your brother, no matter how many times you told him that you loved them the same.
“I told him to pack, just like you, and he said no. I told him he had to and he refused," Sirius said vindictively.
“Then you should’ve tried harder!" You snapped, spewing words you didn't mean, "Now he’s there alone. He would’ve come if you would've just tried harder, I know it. This is all your fault!”
Sirius reeled back as if you had punched him in the gut. For a moment, he looked hurt, but then anger overwhelmed him. “How could you say that? You weren’t even there!”
“Because you never let me be! I stayed in my room, like you said to, and was out of my mind with worry. Next thing I know, we’re leaving and Regulus isn’t, and that feeling hasn’t gone away because I have no idea how he is. You should’ve grabbed him and dragged him along! You should’ve-“
“Why is everything my fault!? Why is it what I should’ve done!? You don’t even know what he did!” Sirius' nostrils flared with rage.
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about how your dear Reggie isn’t as good as you think he is," he sneered. "If you only saw him…”
“I don’t care what he did, he’s our brother!" You shouted, "He should be here. It doesn’t matter!”
Sirius slammed his hand on the table, “IT DOESN’T MATTER!?” he screamed, causing you to jump back. Tears immediately began welling in your eyes. No matter what you did, when you were being yelled at, you started crying. You weren't like your brothers, who could hold stone-cold, emotionless expressions despite whatever was swirling within. It was one of the reasons your brothers did what they could to keep your parents away from you—to Walburga and Orion, emotion was weakness.
Your tears didn't phase Sirius like they normally would have. He was too furious. “You want to know what he did?" he asked harshly. "He watched. He watched our parents torture me, and then he just walked away!"
“What did you want him to do?” you cried, “He- he was probably scared,” you hiccuped, “you- you should’ve-“
“I shouldn’t have done anything, goddammit! She crucio’d me! THAT’S what he watched our mother do. THAT’S what he let me deal with alone. I was on the ground unable to get up for damn near thirty minutes, and he knew it!"
Sirius nearly doubled over, grabbing the table in front of him for balance so hard that his knuckles blanched. All of the yelling gave him a head rush, but he wouldn't relent, "So don’t you tell me that I should’ve tried harder. That I should’ve grabbed him. He doesn’t care about me, so why should I care about him?”
Your hand clasped over your mouth as you sobbed. Your parents were cruel, but the Cruciatus Curse? You couldn’t fathom it. Your mouth suddenly felt dry, and bile bubbled up in your throat as you recalled Sirius’ scream from the night before.
Neither of you seemed to have anything else to say. You both just stood before each other in your most vulnerable states. It was a miserable sight—you crying your eyes out and Sirius looking sick as a dog.
Neither of you had noticed James leave until he returned. His parents followed closely behind.
"Snitch," Sirius choked out, glaring at his best friend as a fit of coughs hit him, his throat strained from the yelling. He ducked his head down and screwed his eyes shut suddenly, like the light in the room was starting to bother his head.
James didn't seem to care what Sirius thought of him. He was too busy being concerned for you both. Besides, James didn't really snitch. You two were being so loud that his parents were already on their way. He happened to run into them in their pursuit.
"What's going on?" Effie's gentle voice rang through the room, "We could hear yelling from the other side of the house."
Even though James' mum was being stern, she didn't sound angry or upset. Her voice only carried notes of concern and motherly authority.
Neither you nor Sirius answered her, too busy crying and coughing. Both of you would've probably been too sheepish to answer, anyway.
James' parents shared a look with each other, deciding what to do about the situation through eye contact alone.
Fleamont spoke with a firm voice, "Alright, son, we ought to get you up to your room. I think it'd be best for you to lie down." Fleamont clasped a hand on Sirius' shoulder. Your brother let Fleamont assist him in the walk to his room.
Euphemia moved to comfort you, but James stopped her. "Wait, let me."
She raised her eyebrows at her son, skeptical of the idea that her young son was equipped to handle this situation. But James had already started reaching for you, and like a moth to a flame, you melted into his arms the moment you felt his fingertips graze your skin.
Effie's eyes darted between you and her son, settling on him when her features melded into a look of understanding. A million questions raced through her mind. How long had this been going on? Why didn't James tell her? Did James tell Sirius? But the one thing she knew for sure was that you found comfort in James, and comfort was the one thing you needed right now.
She took a deep breath and decided to trust her son. "We'll talk about this later. I'm going to check on Sirius."
"Thanks, Mum." James let out a relieved breath.
"Just... behave."
"Mum!" James blushed, his hands swiftly traveling up to cover your ears with his palms.
"Oh, I didn't mean it like that!" Effie waved a hand in the air as she followed in the direction of Fleamont and Sirius.
James noticed your shoulders had started shaking intensely.
“Lovey,” he cooed. He moved his hands to cup your face, tilting it up to look at him. He was surprised to find that the reason for your shuddering shoulders was not because you had started crying harder. You were still crying, but it was mixed with a bit of laughter.
"I guess neither of us are very good at hiding things,” you said, thinking of how you jumped into his arms right in front of his mother.
James shook his head, a single chuckle escaping from his lips.
“Guess not.”
Your moment of humor quickly passed, your eyes turning sad again as more tears spilled out.
James sighed, brushing away your tears with his thumb before pulling you close to his chest. He rubbed soothing circles on your back, pressed kisses to the top of your head, and whispered professions of love and sweet words in your ear while he let you cry. Sometimes, he knew you just needed to let it all out.
Eventually, you let James’ touch and loving words relax you. When your crying was reduced to a sniffle, James veered back so that you could see his face.
“Let’s go on a walk.”
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cressidagrey · 2 months
Text
The Ties that Bind - Chapter 6
Summary: 
Shadowsingers were made, not born. Made out of trauma and loneliness and desperation.
So when Cilla and Azriel meet and their shadows entwine, they both meet the only other person that could understand these particular childhood scars.
The last thing Azriel had ever expected from his mate, however, was for her to have a surprising connection to his brother.
Warnings: 
Mentions of Child abuse and neglect, Azriel is an idiot and Cilla doesn't even realise that what he is doing to her is kinda messed up.
(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)
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Cilla poked at the cabinet…put her hand in it…she could feel no difference in temperature. Still, the milk she had removed just minutes before, was perfectly chilled in its little can. . And when she had emptied said can, it had just replenished again. 
She had never seen anything like this before. Granted she hadn’t been able to afford milk much, but she had never seen anything like that.
Tell her it will always fill up again. The can is enchanted. 
She would have thrown that can across the room if she had been holding it. Thankfully she had put it down before she started poking through her mate’s kitchen. 
Cilla was curious. And Azriel didn’t seem to care if she went poking through his cabinets…or under the chairs…or anything else. Though the most interesting thing she had found where knives stashed literally everywhere. It didn’t matter where…out of plain view, and for some reason there was a knife there. She had no clue for what.
Still, the random knives didn’t explain the voices that she was hearing. A voice that definitely wasn’t her own shadows. 
The can is enchanted. It will always fill up again. Her shadows told her. 
Oh. 
She stared at the tendrils that were ghosting around her, somehow just knowing that some were hers and some belonged to her mate. 
And then she reached out, carefully. Just like she had learned to do with her own shadows…like threads connected to her mind that she could tug on and tell them what to do…like threads that she could pull and knot and make sure that they listened. 
Reaching out for Azriel’s shadows mentally was…like trying to catch mist. 
Hello? 
You can hear us? They responded, sounding surprised and delighted. 
Shouldn’t I? she asked carefully. Was she not supposed to be able to hear them? Was she just…Azriel’s shadows were shadows just like hers. It made sense that Cilla could hear them, right? 
You are Master‘s, of course, you should, they agreed easily. Nobody but Master could ever hear us. They told her, twining themselves around her wrists, slipping underneath the sleeves of the blue dress she wore. 
Their touch was comforting, just like the touch of her own shadows…for so long that had been the only touch she had felt that was… nicest to hurt her.
It was comfort, plain and simple. 
She put the jug of milk back into the cabinet, still not having solved the mystery of why it stayed cool. Maybe it was enchanted as well? Maybe…
It wasn’t like she ever had the money to invest into something like that…wasn’t like she had the money for anything of this sort…not to even speak of the rest of this house in the mountains that Azriel called home. 
It was safe and warm and comfortable…and with that already a major step up from everything she had been used to. 
If I can hear you…Can Azriel hear mine? She asked hesitantly. 
Not yet, her shadows answered easily. 
You think he will be? Cilla wondered. Would he be able to? She wasn’t sure if she wanted him to be able to read her thoughts like that. If he should be able to…
But then his shadows hadn’t given her anything about his thoughts so maybe…maybe it would be fine. Maybe it would even be…there would be somebody else that she could talk to in the privacy of her mind, somebody that would be there…she wouldn’t be alone. That would…that would be nice. 
If you will it. He’s yours. Just like you are his, Azriel’s shadows answered quietly. We’ll always keep you safe. 
Safe…It was such a foreign concept. Just as foreign as being his…Even when he had left her in this house without seemingly a worry about what she could get up to. 
Even with the 3 dozen knives stashed around. 
Can I ask you a question? She asked as she left the kitchen, a glass of milk in her hand and walked into the living room, in front of the bookcase. She traced her finger over the spines of these books longingly. 
Of course. 
Can you read? She asked, curiously. her shadows couldn’t. Even when they could see things, without having eyes. She still wondered how exactly that worked. She didn’t think that just magic was the answer to everything. 
But then…maybe it was. 
When Master learned to read, we gained that ability as well, they answered. Huh. 
So if I learn to read, my shadows will be able to as well? she wondered. Was that how it worked?
 If
Would you like to learn? They responded and she swallowed. 
Yes, Cilla gave back immediately. She wanted to learn. Desperately.
Books had always been a mystery to her…the idea that she had millennia of information at her fingertips and she just couldn’t access it…it was infuriating. Infuriating and fascinating…but there was nobody that she could have asked. Most of the females that worked at the tannery with her, couldn’t read either. Most for a myriad of reasons -  they had left home too soon, or had lost their parents or caregivers…and had never gotten to learn. 
His shadows wrapped around her wrist, leading her towards the armchair the stood tucked into a nook, another tendril fetching a book that they gave to her once she had sat down, opening it. 
It had pictures in it…paintings. This is a children’s book, they explained to her. A is for Ant…they pointed out the painting picture of an Ant next to the symbol that must be the letter A. B is for Bear. 
And so it continued. They helped her scratch the alphabet onto a parchment they had liberated from Azriel’s desk and went through the whole book with her. From A to Z…helping her sound out the words aloud until she had…she had gotten something out of it. 
She didn’t think that she was going to be fluent anytime soon, but just the possibility.y…she didn’t care how long it was going to take her. She couldn’t care less. 
She had the opportunity…she had the options…she would spend hours pouring over books and learning if that meant that there was the possibility that she would understand them. 
“It seems like you are hard at work.” Cilla didn’t startle, not when she had felt that tug at her ribs but she did look up with a smile, that froze on her face as she took in Azriel. 
He had left her alone that evening with the promise that he would be back soon…and he was back soon. With a bloody nose. 
“What happened to your nose?” She blurted out, her book forgotten as she shot to her feet, immediately reaching out for his face. 
“It’s fine,” Azriel assured her. “I swear,” he promised but she didn’t believe a word of it when she gently tipped up his chin so that she could see the bruises that painted his far too handsome face. 
“It doesn’t look like it’s fine,” she countered. “Does it hurt? What happened?” she demanded, but he just caught her hand in one of his, lifting it to his lips to press a kiss to her skin. 
“It looks worse than it is. Give it a few hours and it will have disappeared,” he promised her. He didn’t answer that question though, which made her wonder…
“Does it hurt?” she asked him, hesitantly. He shook his head, a slight smile on his face. 
“It’s fine,” Azriel promised her, stepping around her to sit down on the armchair she had orphaned and then held out his hands for her. 
She took them and then let him tug her into his lap, much to her surprise. Not that it was uncomfortable…she could splay her wings out behind herself like that and could curl herself together against his chest. 
“I do have some news for you though,” Azriel said quietly. “I found your father.”
Of all the things she expected him to tell her…this was not one of them. This was the last thing she had expected. The very last thing. She had expected everything else before this. 
What? 
Her father? 
How had he even…How had he done that so quickly? How had he even…
Ask him, her shadows whispered. Just ask him. 
“How?” she croaked out, unsure if she really wanted to know. Unsure if she wanted to…
Azriel had found her father. 
“You smell like him, Sweetheart,” Azriel answered gently, a hand drawing patterns against her spine and she looked into his face, finding him watching her with…she had no idea with what. apprehension? maybe pity? She didn’t know. She didn’t even know if she…
She hadn’t thought that he would find him. 
She had never thought that this was a situation in which she would ever be. 
Cilla had always thought that she was…well, that she was completely alone in the world. That this was just…that her mother had died and that her father…that she would never find out who he was or how exactly she had come to be…and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to know. Wasn’t sure if that was…something that she should know. 
She had only wanted to know if he had known. Had he known that her mother was pregnant? had he known that he was killing her mother with that pregnancy? Had he known and had slept with her mother regardless? And had he known…had he known that she had existed and hadn’t cared?
Had not even thought about it? 
And how…how did the way she smelled matter? What did that…How did that…
“I smell like him,” she weakly repeated. She smelled like him. And Azriel had, what, recognised the way she smelled and…
Children smell like their children, her shadows supplied. Yes, she knew that but…
“You know him,” Cilla said flatly, meeting his eyes, something hot and…sharp slicing into her chest. He had known. When he had asked her if she wanted to know who her father was…Azriel had already known, hadn’t he? 
“I do,” he agreed. 
He had known. Cilla was not sure how she was supposed to feel about that. Wasn’t sure if she…
“From where?” she bit out, not asking at him, her hands clenching in her chest. 
“Around 500 years ago… an 11-year-old boy beat me into the dirt in an Illyrian War Camp,” Azriel said with some amusement. “That was your father.” 
So they had known each other for 500 years. 
“You lied,” she said, the words tasting bitter on her tongue. “You knew. When you asked me if I wanted to know my father, you already knew,” she accused him.
“I had my…suspicions,” Azriel said carefully. “I didn’t tell you the whole truth. I did not outright lie. If you told me that you never wanted to meet him, I would have kept it at that.”
Would he really? 
“You would have left me unknowing?” she challenged him, clenching her jaw, her eyes shooting up to meet his. 
It was not helped by the argument their shadows were having. 
He wanted to protect both you and his brother. 
He lied, her own shot back sharply. He should have said the truth!
“Your father is one of my best friends,” Azriel said at that moment, his voice quiet. “Your father…he’s…he’s like a brother to me.”
It didn’t matter. Not really. Just one thing mattered to her. 
“Did he know?” Cilla demanded. 
“No. No, he didn’t know,” Azriel promised her, his hand very gently resuming rubbing her back. “
“And you believe him?” She challenged him. 
“He’s a horrible liar and a good male,” Azriel answered honestly. “I trust him with my life. So yes…I do believe him, Cilla. He had absolutely no idea that you even existed.”
Somehow that didn’t make her feel better. 
She had thought that it would make her feel better, but it couldn’t be further from the truth. He hadn’t known. 
All her life, she had wanted to give somebody the fault for what had happened to her and now…now she came up empty. Because he hadn’t known. He had no clue that she even existed. 
She had just been…invisible. 
“Do you…Do you want to meet him?” Azriel asked her softly, still rubbing her back and she swallowed. 
Meet him? Meet her father? 
Why should she…if…
“He wants to meet you…Cassian feels horrible about what happened to you.”
What.
“You told him?!” she snapped, staring at Azriel wide-eyed. He had told him? He had…”You had no right!” 
She flew off his lap, her wings trembling against her back, fury and pain flaring up inside her. 
“Sweetheart,” Azriel said carefully, holding out his hands, but Cilla trembled with rage. “He would have figured it out once he saw you. You are a shadowsinger, you can’t hide that,” he told her reasonably, and she couldn’t help but bare her teeth. 
“What has that to do with anything?!” she bit out sharply. 
“Cilla…you wouldn’t be a shadowsinger without being traumatised in some way,” Azriel said carefully. “That’s what these shadows are…they are a manifestation of your trauma in many ways. You were locked away into the darkness for years. That leaves scars. I know that better than most.” 
“I am not…I am not crazy,” she snapped, her voice shaking. “I…”
“Of course, you aren’t,” Azriel agreed, carefully standing up.  “Nobody said you were, Cilla.”
“Why did you tell him?” She asked, her voice breaking. Why did he…
“Because he’s your father. Because I needed him to understand what you had gone through. And I knew that Cassian would understand, Sweetheart,” Azriel said quietly, taking a step in her direction. “He understands. I swear to you, he understands.”
But would he understand? Truly? 
She could feel her body trembling, tears burning into her eyes
“Take your time. It’s alright,” Azriel soothed her softly. “I didn’t want to upset you, Sweetheart.”
She closed her eyes for just a moment, welcoming the darkness, her old friend.
You’ll be alright, her shadows whispered, wrapping around her like they had done so very often. It’s alright. 
He’ll understand, Azriel’s shadows whispered. The General has his own…trauma. He understands better than most, we promise.
“Cilla,” Azriel said carefully. “Just…give him a chance. Please,” he requested, his voice so hopeful, so hesitant, that she couldn’t help but…
“You’ll stay,” she requested, her voice shaking. 
“Of course,” Azriel agreed. “I’ll stay…He’s outside,” he said, his voice soft. 
Now? Did he mean now? 
Probably so that she was not going to change her mind after all.
“Just give him a chance,” Azriel implored, holding out her hand and she took it. 
A chance. 
She could do a chance. 
Maybe. 
Even when her body already felt like it was shutting down, her hands trembling in Azriel’s grasp, even as he wrapped an arm around her waist. 
“It will be alright,” he promised her, seeming so pleased with her agreement that Cilla couldn’t help but follow along…couldn’t…
The first thing she noticed about her father…was the fact that he was massive. Even taller than Azriel…broader…and he was pacing. There was a female there, beautiful with brown hair and startlingly silver eyes that had made herself a home at one of the boulders near the edge of the mountain lake…but he was pacing circles around her, wings shaking back and forth. 
That was her father?
She nearly stayed rooted in one spot if Azriel didn’t tug her forward carefully. 
“It’s alright,” he promised her once again, though she wasn’t sure who he was telling that. Was it her or himself? “If you need to go, you’ll just tell me,” he soothed her and she took a deep breath. That was something, right? 
If you need to go, we’ll take you away, his shadows offered immediately. There are a few safe places that we know of. 
“Cassian, you are freaking her out,” said the female drily, and her father swirled around. She nearly stumbled back, she would have stumbled back, if there wasn’t Azriel that she stumbled right into. 
“Come sit down, Sweetheart,” Azriel said softly, as he pushed her towards another one of these boulders, sitting across from the female that gave her a smile. “That’s Cassian and his mate, Nesta,” Azriel handled the introduction. 
Her father was mated?
Had he been mated when…
No, Azriel’s shadows told her immediately. Impossible. Lady Death is just a few years older than you. 
Lady Death? Lady Death?!? 
“Hello, Cilla,” her father said at that moment, allowing her no time to freak out about how this female was called Lady Death by Azriel’s shadows. 
“Hello,” she managed to force out, looking at everything but him, her stomach roiling. She wanted to throw up. She really wanted to throw up. Azriel placed a warm, massive hand on top of her own that had curled into a first, but somehow that didn’t make it any better either. 
Her shadows seemed to sense that she was seconds away from running, gathering into the folds of her skirts, worriedly swirling around her, higher and higher. More and More gathered around the hem of her skirt. 
“You know for Azriel, they hide behind his wings,” Cassian said at that moment and she was so startled that she couldn’t help but look at him…and looked straight into…He looked like her. Not completely. But she could see the similarities, in the shape of his eyes and his face…in his hair… “Yours don’t?”
“No,” she said flatly, immediately regretting it when she saw the near imperceptive flinch he gave. “They like to hide in my hair,” she added as an afterthought. 
“That’s…practical,” Cassian answered, swallowing. It became silent once again. 
“I…I didn’t know you existed,” he blurted out. She couldn’t help but look at him startled. “If I had known, I would have…I would have taken care of you. I was born a bastard. I swore to myself that I wouldn’t put any child through the same,” he told her, nearly pleading with her to understand.” 
She had no idea what to say to that. 
If he had known, maybe her life would have been…very different. 
But she still didn’t know…still didn’t know why he even cared. Why did he even want to meet her? He had a mate. If he wanted children, he could just have them with, Cilla supposed. 
Better than her at any rate. 
“What do you want from me?” she asked him, forcing out these words, because she had no idea what else to ask him. 
“What I want from you?” he echoed, sounding unbelieving. 
“Yes. I am an adult now. You don’t need to take care of me any more,” she said with a shrug. She could manage on her own. Somehow. 
“I…I want to get to know you,” Cassian answered and her eyebrows furrowed. Why? “You are my daughter,” he said like that explained everything. Maybe for him, it did. For her…
Cilla was bristling before she even knew what she was doing. “Only because you fathered me, doesn’t make me your daughter,” she told him, her arms crossing in front of her chest. ”You know nothing about me.” 
“Then let me learn.” He said that so easily. 
Like that was all she needed to do. Just give in. Just let him...
"Just give me a chance. Please. I know you have no reason to trust me, but I am not...I do not want anything from you but this. I swear it to you on my life." 
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amostnobleyandere · 1 month
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Yandere! Nanami Kento x GN! Reader
CWs: Kidnapping, implied stalking, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, domestic fantasies i.e Nanami wants reader as a domestic partner (“house spouse”), slight mention of death
thinking about yandere! nanami kento who is so incredibly lonely.
nanami, who is used to the solitude, never having made an effort to get close to any one after the death of his best friend. nanami, who was stuck in an endless cycle of work, sleep, eat, and repeat. even after he had quit his corporate job and dedicated his time to hunting down curses and exorcising evil, there always seemed to be a perpetually empty place by his side. he was bereft of companionship, and the place inside him that longed for it had grown numb after years of being repressed.
but then suddenly you’re there. in that empty spot, filing it up like it had always belonged to you. his neighbor, who he had met by chance not long after you moved in. well, technically not his neighbor, as you were renting the place out for only a year. he had met you when one of your packages ended up on his doorstep, which gave him an excuse to introduce himself. he would often catch you going in and out of your apartment, and you always greeted each other, making polite conversation before going your separate ways.
you had spontaneously invited him over at a time when nanami had struggled through a particularly bad day and looked as if he had been through hell. with him sitting in your living room and drinking the tea you had prepared, you sheepishly admitted that you didn’t know many people around this area. it was a bit lonely, you explained, not having anyone to spend time with after work, as you could only contact your friends through your phone for the time being. you smiled at him as you asked if he would like to be your friend and get to know each other better.
to say that nanami wasn’t somewhat shocked would be an understatement—he had never had one of his neighbors reach out to him before. hell, even his coworkers had always steered clear of him, as he knew that his reserved nature came off as unapproachable. but you were different. you seemed sweet, and your offer was genuine. and it would be nice to get out of the house more, he thought—
at his considering silence, you hastily backtracked and explained that you understand if he felt uncomfortable with your proposition. he shook his head, assuring you that he would be delighted to spend time with you, knowing that he would benefit from getting out of the house more himself.
and being lonely? he could sympathize with that.
he begins to feel attracted to you as he spends more and more time with you, bringing along many new feelings with it. a sense of protectiveness, a craving for intimacy, and the novel urge to get home quickly and safely for reasons over than avoiding overtime—or worse case scenario, surviving till the end of the day. he keeps your apartment floor—at this point it was probably the entire building—void of curses, destroying flyheads the minute he sees them.
from then on he observes you relentlessly, even outside your frequent chats and hang outs. he ends up falling for you hard. this is the first time he’s ever been in love, and the warm feeling that fills up his chest every time he sees you is getting addictive.
he finds himself getting antsy whenever you work late or cancel on him suddenly because you can’t avoid overtime from your boss. he’s never minded you working before, as much as he loathes it himself, but he hates to see you stuck in a similar position that he was in the past.
fuck—he wants a house spouse, he realizes. that’s what he wants you to be. not only would it keep you safe, tucked away in his spacious apartment, but it would also fulfill his new desire of wanting to have someone waiting for him when he got home. nanami had never thought about marriage before—his job was too dangerous and he wasn’t selfish enough to expose someone to the pain and suffering that would come with him dying from a curse.
but here he is, acting completely out of character, blushing while thinking about what it would be like for you to send him off with a kiss each morning and greet him with a kiss as he walks through the door every night. it’s borderline insane, but the idea becomes more and more appealing the more he thinks about it.
and, well. all of that working wasn’t for nothing now. he had plenty of money, all that he had managed to hoard over years of soul-sucking labor that made him trade a generous paycheck for peace of mind. he thinks now about how he coveted it so much, and yet there was no one to share it with, no greater point but to collect it and maintain the facade of stability it granted him.
clearly, he was lacking goals. he sees that now, when he realizes that what better way to spend it than on the person most precious to him? it would be best used to spoil you, to keep you safe, and there was so much that he could give. so much that he could use to keep you healthy, safe, and happy
that’s why, the next time you come over to his place, you don’t end up leaving.
—————————
A/N: my toxic trait is forcing my readers to make and drink tea even though I hate tea 😊✌️
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diejager · 9 months
Note
Hello hellooooooo
I hope you are doing great !!
(I was waiting patiently for your requests to be open again lmao)
So, my brain was just thinking of something for monster!141 and I just need to share it somewhere 😵‍💫
As you may know, penguins' love language is giving pebbles to their loved ones
Penguin hybrid!Hunter just giving monster!141 pebbles and little rocks to show them that they love them 🥹
Alright, I'll go back to my knitting now BYE
*gets out by the window with a parachute*
Pebbles Cw: weird courting, tell me if I missed any.
You didn’t have any noticeable differences to a human, having the appearance of any human with a some quirky and funny behavioural traits that all of them enjoyed. You had your moments of oddity, but you didn’t seem that far from a human, having no tail, ear or horns, your skin as smooth and soft as any. They dropped their suspicions of you being a hybrid, a monster or even an inter dimensional creature of some unknown source.
And somehow, they find small trinkets - small, round pebbles picked out of a bunch to be perfectly rounded, smooth edges and glistening under the light, and sticks, long and robust, but small enough to sneak into the base without being caught - placed in the areas they often found themselves frequenting.
Price would find a cluster of pebbles on his desk, arranged neatly in a ring, a curious little thing that he shrugged off, putting them away for the time he’d be able to catch the culprit red handed in the act. Price chucked it up to being Soap and Gaz pulling a prank on him, an unsuspecting and benign trick for a little laugh between them, he didn’t bother with it too much.
Ghost found his small collection of sticks and rock on the books he liked to read, placed near the corner of his desk in his office, the arrangement was neither crude nor clean, it was a chaotic abstraction that he didn’t understand.He didn’t know what to make of it, no one would be brave enough - stupid enough - to pull something like this on him and on his stuff without knowing the risks they put themselves in.
Soap and Gaz had a few placed that belonged to them alone, like their rooms or their locker in the armoury, small areas that everyone knew was theirs. Gaz was the first of the two to find flowers and pebbles in the top compartment of his locker, picked with utmost care to keep the petal from bending. Soap found his collection of sticks and flowers stitched in a pretty crown placed around the collar of his vest, a little present full of romance and adoration. Both of them couldn’t help but find this weird act endearing.
Until Price saw you rush out of his office, a sweet, love-filled smile plastered on your face as if you’d been given the miracle of your life. If he pushed the thought farther, he could almost see a little tail wagging behind you, oh so overzealous and overjoyed with something you did. Peaked by it, he looked into his room and caught the bright petals of a daisy gently placed in the middle of a wreath of stick. He looked at it with a renewed aww and curiosity, feeling your affection roll of your intricate design, made and catered to him as if you’d made each and every single one of his boys a little courting gift-
It was an instinctual courting behaviour seen in monsters and hybrids alike. It stopped him in his tracks, causing him to question himself and your file, he’d been sure that you were human through and through, holding not a single ounce of monster blood in your veins, you’d done tests. Tests, he had to remind himself that these tests were - despite being physical and DNA tests - noted down if the recipient had any traits deemed worthwhile, something useful in the minds of a battle or in a dogfight.
That would give reason to some missing holes in your file, the little things that made you so charmingly you in every aspect was missing from your papers, reserved for people who came to know you. It warmed his heart, to see you so comfortable with them that you ended up forging such strong, emotional connections that you started giving them gifts. He’d have to take it up with the other boys, tell them what he just found out: your little, courting gifts, your hybrid roots that they could explore and your lovable smile when you’d successfully given your gift, and see where they would go from there.
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