#to be cold to people and to want to be left alone but ‘recovery’ is always equated to how visibly happy u look to someone else or how | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theminecraftbee · 8 months

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okay so. hear me out. but. au concept--

joel is one of many people affected by a Vanishing. its a phenomenon sweeping the country--people simply not showing up for work, school, life one day, as though they've vanished from the face of the earth. it's almost possible to mistake for normal missing persons cases, if it weren't for the way a few of the higher-profile Vanishings have happened to people who shouldn't have been able to vanish at all, let alone in a way that wouldn't be noticed until too late. look at joel's hometown. the people monitoring the dam were supposed to be redundant, and yet--

anyway. not like he cares or anything, except for the fact this stupid disaster or whatever has left him without anywhere to live or anyone to live with, and he still has a year of high school left, so he can't just do whatever he wants. luckily there's this school in a town called new hermiton that agreed to give him a scholarship to finish his education in the name of recovery and solidarity or whatever, and it's kind of a shwankier school than he'd normally go for, but it's free and, more importantly, they're willing to pay for his lodging, and he can't really turn that down. and it's not like he has a choice but to upend his entire life now. so packing what few of his belongings survived into a bag and getting on a train and moving across the country to a new school it is, he guesses.

(he's been having nightmares that inexplicably feature swarms of blue butterflies. last time he checked, lakes don't have butterflies in them. although maybe it's a metaphor or something, on account of the butterflies saying stupid stuff about how people who are remembered can't disappear, and even a false world cannot be erased if it's watched over, and how fate depends on him holding people in his heart. thanks for saying the same stupid shitty platitudes his social worker told him, just more cryptically, butterflies. real cool.)

new hermiton, it turns out, is a small city. while new hermiton academy is a newer school, much of the city is older. he's moved into a nice enough flat in an older apartment building. he has another cryptic butterfly dream. he thinks he remembers someone trying to urgently warn him of something, but it's all... shaky. that morning, he goes to the school for the first time. he's greeted by a fellow transfer student, skizzleman, although apparently he already knows some of the other folks in town, and transferred here so he could stay with them. but it's at least someone else in a similar enough situation to joel, especially since joel can just tell by the way people are looking at him that skizz didn't have much of a choice but to be here, either, and best friends with impulse or not, he's on his own too.

so. a friend. maybe this school won't be that bad, even if joel keeps having nightmares, and even if the weather here is weirdly cold for july, and even if his new homeroom professor keeps on looking at him really weirdly. (aren't professors supposed to be better about stupid rumors anyway? what's that mr. hills's deal?)

and then, two days later, he waves skizz off at the end of the school day, and gets skizz's friend, impulse, at his door, desperate to hear that skizz had just come to stay the night in joel's shitty lonely apartment, because otherwise it looks like--come on man. joel's already having a shit time. the universe deciding to go after his one existing friend too? he promises impulse to help investigate that night, in the vain hope that Skizz isn't one of the Vanished. joel gets a splitting migraine trying to follow their path back, though, and they have to stop for the night.

skizz is reported missing the next morning. joel resigns himself to cutting himself off from the people around him, as per usual. then, strangely, mr. hills corners him as he goes home.

"you'll need this," he says, and shoves what feels like a cheap butterfly knife into joel's hands. "uh, remember, trust your heart! you'll know how to use it."

"what," joel says. "hold on. you're supposed to be a teacher. why are you giving me this. i know for a fact my file says i have like, ptsd or whatever, which is stupid, but you definitely aren't supposed to be giving me a knife, you weirdo?"

"you'll know how to use it," joe hills says again. "goodbye! believe in yourself!"

mr. hills sprints behind a building before he has to explain anything else. joel is left standing on the sidewalk holding a knife, staring after him.

so. that's weird as hell. joel shivers in the cold and continues on his way home. the butterfly knife feels heavy in his pockets. he should probably report that guy to his social worker or something, but actually talking to his social worker feels like conceding defeat. joel can take care of himself. he can prove he can take care of himself. just watch him. step one: go out to get ramen because he forgot to buy any food for his apartment.

he sees impulse putting up signs as he eats. impulse looks miserable. joel thinks about how skizz, just in the short time he'd known him, had sort of unintentionally given away that he felt isolated after his mother Vanished. that impulse was a great friend, but impulse didn't understand what it was like. he never really SAID as much, but--

it's not fair to impulse, for that to be the last thing impulse remembered of what was apparently a friend since childhood. and joel doesn't care about any of these guys, but he can still pay his check and go out and help impulse go looking. he's no good at comforting people and doesn't know this guy, but joel had been alone too, sitting on the roof and crying, when the helicopters came.

except when they go back to the path by the school, joel's head starts to hurt again.

he looks up and there's a butterfly.

"hey, impulse, are butterflies common here?" he asks, a little desperately.

"i mean, not really, why?" impulse says.

"uh," joel says, and gestures. the two of them stare as the strange yellow butterfly circles in place.

"okay, so that is kind of weird," impulse admits.

"right?" joel says. "the only way it would be weirder is if it were blue." impulse gives him a look. joel does not explain.

it starts to fly away.

"we should follow it," impulse says, his voice getting a little dull. "yeah. we should follow it."

"what? no! no we should not follow the haunted butterfly, are you nuts?" joel says, but it's a bit too late. (maybe this is what the knife is for: stabbing impulse. it would be an effective method of stopping him!) he chases impulse down, down to the river, where yellow butterflies are swarming. impulse, as though possessed, simply steps into the swarm and falls through them to the water.

joel's, uh, freaking out more than a little bit? he'll admit he's freaking out. he dives forward to try to grab him, only to realize that he doesn't see impulse anywhere.

a single blue butterfly lands on joel's shoulder. "do you hold his heart next to yours?"

"i'm going insane," joel says.

"no heart is meant to be completely alone. do you hold his next to yours?"

"this isn't happening," joel says. "this is like a stupid manga or something. it's not happening."

"there is still time to save them; you must hold your heart strong, or the consequences will be dire. i believe in you."

the butterfly vanishes.

"fuck it," joel says. "if i drown then it's nothing people haven't expected of me anyway."

he steps through the swarm of butterflies.

that night, he drags both impulse and skizz out of the river. they're all freezing cold. shadows and strange, yellowy liquid still cling to all of their skin. also, joel stabbed himself, which like, glad to know that's what the knife was for, apparently, and the scar is warm and comforting. he can feel his--persona, and don't ask him how he knows that--shifting under his skin, under the mark on his hand. it said its name is pygmalion; it says it is a piece of joel's soul.

this is all patently insane. but skizz and impulse are alive and NOT eaten by shadow monsters, so even if they're both a little unconscious, joel takes that as a win.

they lie on the ground outside the river. someone stumbles across them. "well give me some teeth and call me an alligator. you got out on your own," breathes a fellow student clutching a dagger. joel thinks he's in the class across the hall. also--

"what are you talking about," joel wheezes.

"you found it on your own. you can find them?" the student says. his eyes are wide. something in joel's soul recognizes something in the student's. something in joel's BRAIN puts two and two together and realizes why mr. hills gave him a knife.

"no. no, go away, i don't want to be involved in this," joel says.

"well, don't you think it's too late for that?" the student says, and joel passes out. he's pretty sure the butterflies have to be laughing at him. in fact, as though to mock him further, after passing out, he doesn't even get to avoid it forever, because he wakes up in a glowing blue boat. there is a man with white-blonde hair, blue eyes, and a blue outfit leaning over him, poking him.

joel takes no responsibility for punching him. he'd do it again, too, as the long-nosed man sitting next to the unmanned steering wheel welcomes him to the velvet room.

(this, joel realizes later, all rather sets the tone for what the next year of his life is about to become.)

#hermitcraft #joel smallishbeans #smallishsona au #THAT'S RIGHT BABY ITS THE PERSONA AU I WAS WAFFLING ABOUT #because i'm playing p3re right now this is pretty p3 inspired but also expect elements of p4 (my fav) and p5 #i. do not know enough about p1 and p2 to be using all these butterflies but FUCK IT WE BALL.#a bee fic #KIND OF I GUESS I'LL PUT THIS THERE.#anyway the idea is that this au is half a crack au and half DEEPLY SINCERE #because the JOKE is that joel hates every minute of being a persona protagonist #but the OTHER bit is that joel is genuinely an extremely loyal guy who would do VERY WELL as a persona protagonist #you just have to drag him there kicking and screaming #(sort of in a very. p3-esque way)

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whenlostinthedarkness · 6 months

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Tis The Damn Season | Part 2

Ellie Williams x Reader

Photo credit: [ x ]

Summary: After your unexpected run-in with your ex girlfriend Ellie, you take a trip down memory lane and explore your spots in Jackson. The next morning, Your mom starts to make a miraculous recovery which leaves you with some hope. Come nightfall, that ex girlfriend makes yet another surprise appearance, and one that you can’t ignore.

Rating: M [mentions of past relationship, mentions of an ill mother, & angst w/reader & Ellie.]

WC: 4.7k

A/N: Sorry that part 2 took forever to come out. I’ve had lotssss happening in my personal life and creating anything was hard, but I hope you enjoy this part 2!

Taglist: @bready101 @onlinelesbo

Part One | Masterlist | How you can help Palestine

——————-

You were left alone again. Except a new feeling had crept up on you that hadn’t been there before. It could be relief from getting your first run-in with your ex, or a shaken emotion from seeing someone who was like a dark ghost in your mind. You couldn’t put your finger on it. All you could think about was the brick building that sat directly in front of you.

Before the outbreak, one could call this place a cafe of some sort. Since those were in severely few supply nowadays, it was more of a dinner, cafe, and hang-out spot all combined into one.

A lot of teens and young adults would come here to do school work, just have a chat, or grab a bite to eat. You and Ellie had claimed this spot as your first romantic public endeavor.

Without much thought, your feet moved until you stood directly down the center of the bay windows. Your reflection shone as you moved your face closer to the windows so you could get a proper look at the place. The only light illuminating the inside was one cast from the string lights that hung above, however, you could still make out the familiar mixed-matched tables and chairs that held so many memories of so many people.

And then, you saw it. That same roughened, wooden table you knew from your teenagehood. It was tucked away in the farthest right corner-one that you remember picking on purpose so you and Ellie could have some sort of privacy within a social place.

At this very place was where Ellie held your hand for the first time, where you and her took a pocket knife to the wood of the table and carved your initials inside of a heart to be engrained forevermore.

The last memory, however, was a bitter one. One that had you moving as far away from the glass as one stride of your legs could get you. It was like you saw a ghost of the past. She lingered everywhere and stained every wall in that place in the best and worst way possible.

You’d rather not reminisce on the day when you ended things with her, all because Ellie, “didn’t know what she wanted” when it came to the both of you or life in general. It’s funny how you chose that very table and chairs to end what started in those exact seats.

You hadn’t realized how cold you were until your concentration was broken by the chattering of your teeth. Your eyes glanced downwards and caught a glimpse of your red raw hands. You figured you should head home.

As your cold legs and feet backtracked along the path, you couldn’t shake the image of Ellie’s face that you’d seen only moments ago. She still looked like Ellie, but different. The adult years aged their way onto her face and bones like expensive wine. You thought adulthood suited her very well. You felt yourself analyzing this “new” Ellie your entire stroll home.

Soon enough, your hand was opening the door and enclosing you in the warmth of your home..well, your old home. Slowly, your cold feet shuffled along until you were in bed with closed eyes and a mind that finally was able to drift into the unconscious world.

A couple of blocks away, Ellie herself had just gotten into her bed. That is, once she was able to pry herself from the window that, just so happened to have a crystal clear view of your route home.

The both of you went to bed with thoughts of the other swirling like rainstorms.

—

The sun shone through the window much too soon in your opinion. Your hand shielded your eyes as you picked up your watch from the table side bed; you groaned as you saw the two hands on the clock.

Though you did eventually get some sleep the night before, it was a small amount that still had your eyes stinging and puffy and your brain in an eternal fog. However, your mother was on your mind and you knew you wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep just to catch a couple of extra hours when instead you could be spending that time with your mother at her bedside.

You were eager to get up and outfit your body in proper warm clothes, all while a pot of coffee boiled on the single electric stove top. Once the dark tan liquid was poured into a thermos and your work boots were strapped on your feet, you set off for what lay beyond the front door.

The sun rose moments ago as the streets were only littered with a couple of people who were either on top of their horses with rifles slung over their shoulders, or those who were on foot, busy getting the chores for the morning done.

Familiar faces greeted with sympathetic looks as you journeyed back to the infirmary. They didn’t have to start any pity-driven conversations with you for it to be clear that every single person you were coming across in this god-forsaken town was seeing you as fragile. You despised it.

Being fragile, for you, meant being weak and you’d go to the ends of the earth to prove that you were anything but weak. One could suppose that being meek or non-self-sufficient was one of your biggest fears.

The sun shone through the smudged windows, bringing a bright sunny light to this dreary place. A wave of antiseptic and gauze tingled inside your nostrils, bringing a weird sort of nostalgia. You caught the eye of the nurse from the night before, and she quickly had you follow her lead as she walked you down to your mother's cot.

“How’s she doing?”

The nurse tried her best to put on a happy face, but it looked so forced, it was impossible to see it as truth. “I checked on her a couple of hours ago and she was…, she seems to be the same as the last time you saw her”.

You nodded slowly as the heaviness of your mother's health remained on your chest.

The both of you passed rows and rows of empty and filled cots that were enveloped in stained curtains that hung from orange, rusted hooks attached to the ceiling. It felt dystopian to have such a bright sun shining down on people who were actively fighting to stay alive. You just hoped the same fate wasn’t stricken upon your mother- and it seemed that your hope was a force to be reckoned with.

There your mother was, sitting up with her back resting against the cold brick wall. She still looked ill, but that corpse-like appearance and the greyness of her skin was fading into a more natural tone. She seemed alive.

You couldn’t hold back your joy as you squealed, “Mom!”, and came to sit on the floor next to her bed.

The nurse stood with mouth agape as your mother sat her hand on top of yours; you enveloped your hand with hers almost immediately.

“How are you doing Mom?”

Her voice was rasped, but her smile was genuine as she told you she was fine and found much more importance in asking how you were doing and what you had been up to. At this moment, it was obvious your fear of weakness had come from somewhere or rather from someone.

Day turned into sunset and sunset turned into the grey of night. Your mother’s eyes were drooping the later it got and you knew she was pushing herself only because she was enjoying the time she was spending with you. With a little bit of convincing, you were able to get your mother tucked away in bed. Your lips pressed a delicate kiss to her forehead as you whispered sweet words into her ear. The night nurse herself couldn’t help but smile at the interaction between the two of you.

“I’ll come to find you if anything changes”, she said softly. You nodded before giving your mother one last look. A surge of joy and hope was alive in your heart- one that you hadn’t felt since..well, a long time.

As you exited the infirmary, your eyes looked up to the night sky. You noticed how the stars were brighter tonight than they had been the night prior. You knew Ellie would be looking up at the sky tonight in awe-you could picture it perfectly and you hated it. You hated how it had become a habit for you to look up to the nighttime sky any time you were given the oportunity, all because of her.

Thankfully, your thoughts of her were quickly interrupted.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” that all too familiar, deep voice hummed in fatherly comfort.

“Hello again Joel. You just getting home?”

Joel nodded from his place on top of his horse, a near reflection of the night before. “Yeah. We had a long day today, didn’t we girl?”

You smiled as you watched him lovingly pat the side of his brown quarter horse.

“You know, I’m cooking some of my famous soup tonight. It’s been stewing all day and I sure could use some help eating it.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his dim suggestion that was a clear ploy. “Hmm, I wonder who could be available to help you out there Joel. I think I may know someone.”

Joel raised his eyebrow with fake astonishment, “Oh really? Maybe this someone could hitch a ride with me on the back of my horse and I could give them a homecooked meal tonight. I’m sure this someone hasn’t had one in a longgg time.”

You shook your head grinning ear to ear, “You’re ridiculous you know that.” However, the humor was quick to leave your eyes as you thought about Joel’s home. Most, if not all of the memories were drunk with her. “Will uh-will Ellie be there?”

Joel’s smile fell the slightest bit as he answered honestly. “Nah. She’s out on patrol tonight and she won’t be back ‘til morning. Besides, she’s got her own little place behind the house now. She only really comes around when she wants some of my cookin’ - and who could blame her!”

You reveled in his talent of being able to turn a near-sour moment into a positive one. “Then I guess I have no choice but to have some of your world-famous soup.”

With that, you reached your hand up to meet Joel’s as he assisted you in getting on the back of his horse.

You noticed that it wasn’t as cold today. The snow was beginning to melt from the bare branches of the trees and it nearly felt like a new season was on the horizon. You knew it was silly, but you thought how nice it would be should your life be shifting in a sort of new beginning as well. One with a happy, healthy mother and maybe one without as much hatred for a girl you were desperately trying to forget.

Before long, you and Joel were at the all too familiar Rancher Street with his modest home in the near distance. The white picket fence stood out amongst the soggy brown soil as you walked from the back of the house, where Joel had stowed away his precious mare, to the front entrance. The dingy garage where you knew Ellie was living sent a shiver down your spine as you spotted it sitting beneath the dim oil street light. Quickly, you turned around and followed behind Joel before curiosity got the best of you.

The moment Joel flicked the light switch, the orange, warm hue was so familiar and comforting that you felt like you were drenched in the comfiest blanket you’d ever felt. His home felt so warm. However, your comfort was interrupted by a rustling coming from deep within the home.

“Stay here,” Joel said with a protective outreached arm as his eyes scanned the parameter.

Cautiously, he walked in a near slink-like manner as he retracted the knife that he had stowed away in his back pocket and held the sharpened end out in front of his chest. Foot by foot, he walked slowly, yet with assertiveness.

Just as Joel got to the very back of the main hallway a rattle sounded again in the same area which you now presumed was the kitchen. Out of caution, he rested the flat of his back against the wall that was shielding the kitchen from the rest of the home until suddenly, a figure that appeared to you as a shadow began coming closer and closer to the open doorway that Joel was centimeters away from.

Joel knew it was now or never as he jumped quickly, keeping his head straight to stare directly into the kitchen at whatever or whoever was intruding in his space.

“You nearly gave me a heart attack kid! What are you doing here?” You saw a full sigh leave Joel’s body as his body physically relaxed right in front of you. You watched, puzzled by the entire situation, until you heard the voice of the mysterious intruder who, it turns out, was no stranger to you afterall.

“Sorry”, she spoke. At the sound, you felt as if every bone in your body broke all at once. You had the urge to run straight out of the door you had walked in moments ago, yet you remained frozen in place.

“Me and that new guy switched shifts and I smelled your soup cooking on my way home so..”

“So what you’re saying is, my soup made you break into my damn house?” Joel spoke with amusement in his voice. From his side profile, you could make out his signature amused smile as he shook his head back and forth.

Ellie said, “Pretty much,” and you could perfectly picture the way her shoulders shrugged in playful arrogance.

“Well don’t let me interrupt your dinner. Help yourself,” Joel said as his am stretched upward on the door frame and looked down the hallway. His face went slack as he remembered your presence as well as the promise he assured you of and how that promise was under the very same roof.

Joels mouth hung open while his eyes looked at you with “i’m sorry” written in his pupils. He tried his best to assess the situation and somehow work it out in your favor in a matter of minutes, but it was inevitable.

“Were you talking to someone outside? I thought I heard you.” Ellie questioned as she screwed the lid on her thermos. Joel didn’t answer - he appeared frozen in time as he searched your face.

“Or have you started talking to yourself now that you’re getting old as shit?”, Ellie teased with a smirk, expecting a similar reaction from Joel, yet his face remained like a stone.

“Is everything okay?”, she said with genuine concern in her eyes. “Oh god, did you bring a date home or something?”

Before Joel could figure out a plan or stop her from moving past him on the opposite side of the kitchen island, Ellie emerged from the doorway and was met with your hardened figure by the front door.

Neither of you said anything. It felt like a staring contest to see who would say something or make a move first and both of you were overly committed to winning this game of sorts.

“Uh.” Joel spoke as he moved to stand directly next to Ellie. “I’m uh-i’m sorry Ellie. I thought you wouldn’t be around or else-”

“Why’s she here?”, Ellie spat with eyes narrowed directly on you.

“I’ll just go.” Your hands shook as you turned yourself around and wrapped your hand around the door knob. You began to twist against the cold metal, until you heard an urgent “Wait” as Ellie protested your departure.

She wore a much softer expression when you turned around. Her face had relaxed-almost fallen-and her eyes were sympathetic.

“I was going to take this to go anyways”, Ellie said shaking the thermos for emphasis. “I’ll uh-catch you later Joel. Thanks for the soup.”

Accordingly, Ellie slipped out of the back door-her winter boots leaving mild, yet visible foot prints in her wake.

As soon as the door closed, Joel offered an apology that sounded as if he had put you in the most horrifying situation possible.

“I told you Joel. It’s fine-really!”

“Are you sure? Wouldn’t want you thinking i set this up somehow. No matter how much I enjoyed you with Ellie, I would never do that to you.”

You nodded honestly. “I know.”

After the apologies and reassurances, you and Joel jumped right in to where you’d left off. Joel immediately went to work in the kitchen. Grabbing bowls and spoons and napkins. Asking you what drink you’d like and offering up his prized whiskey that you knew he didn’t offer to just anybody.

Just as the two of you were sat at the table with all the dinner essentials, there was a light knock at the front door. One that was so faint, if it weren’t for the silence of the apocalyptic world, you surely would’ve missed it.

Joel sighed as he stood from the table and tossed his napkin down onto the white lace table runner. “Sorry for all the interruptions. I’ll be quick.”

You nodded as your lips met the tip of your glass and the copper colored liquid burned down your throat in the best way possible. The whiskey was smooth and had you reminiscing on all of those past dinners with Ellie and Joel and this divine whiskey. If only things were as simple now as they were back then.

Joel’s voice was mumbling something in the distance, but his tone was so deeply hushed, you couldn't make out exact words or phrases. Then, came the footsteps. Suddenly, Joel and Ellie were standing in the dining room, both looking less than ecstatic.

“I’m sorry to do this to you, but Ellie’s generator blew out and can’t seem to get it up and running again.” Joel’s eyes couldn’t even look at yours as he spoke.

“I can just go to Dina’s or something-“

“No.” Joel and Ellie’s heads shot up to look at you which suddenly made you grow shy over your protest that flew out of your mouth before you could even properly think about it. “You should stay.”

“I should?”, Ellie questioned with a crease running along her forehead and eyes that were bunched together.

You look at Joel and then back at Ellie. “Yeah, you should.”

The dinner was quiet. It seemed like you could hear the sound of every fork scraping along China and each gulp that moved liquid down someone’s throat. Joel was the only saving grace, and thank god for it.

“So. What are you up to nowadays? Where have you been staying?”

“A town thats a bit away. Nothing special about it really. I mainly keep to myself and just try to stay alive.”

Joel nodded along as you spoke. “Do you think you’ll ever come back to Jackson permanently? I know you’re missed her and not just by your mama.”

Curiously, your eyes move over to Ellie’s to see if Joel’s question gets any sort of response out of her. She is stone faced as she moves her fork around her plate.

Secretly, in the deepest pit of your stomach You wanted her to miss you. You wanted her talk about you constantly while you were gone. You wanted her to not be able to move on from you just as you weren’t able to move on from her.

How selfish. You knew it was an act of ultimate self pleasure and yet the indulgence never ended. Some sick part of yourself wanted her to ache just as much as you were aching to be with her again. Yet you suppressed it all.

You acted as if she didn’t exist and that you didn’t care, but at this dinner table you could feel your facade crumbling into a thousand pieces because every damn question, you found yourself looking to Ellie to see a reaction of pain or longing or something else to signal that she missed you or cared about what you had been up to since you left. You weren’t even close to being over her, regardless of how hard you tried.

“Everything alright?”

You looked up to see both Joel and Ellie staring at you in the midst of your silence. You could only hope your facial expression didn’t give away how truly crazy and overwhelmed you felt.

“Yeah-yeah! I'm fine, just a bit tired I guess.”

Joel nodded as he spooned the final bite of his soup into his mouth. Ellie’s bowl was still nearly full.

“Maybe I should head out.” You said, patting the napkin along the line of your lips. “It’s getting late and I want to get up bright and early to see my mom.”

You needed to get some fresh air and you needed it now.

“I can walk you.”

For a moment you felt anger. Anger that your loneliness was being dismantled when you craved solidarity, until you remembered who it was that was saying those sweet words. The very poison that filled the cup that you couldn’t seem to drag away from your mouth.

“You don’t have to, really”

“I know I don’t have to.” Ellie’s tone was one you didn’t dare to question. Not that you had a choice as she was already gathering her belongings that were strewn by the back door.

Ellie fully prepared to give you a true piece of her mind. She told herself that if ever given the opportunity, she would lay it on you. Tell you how much you hurt her. Tell you how confused and fucked up she felt after hearing that you’d left without a trace, all while being silent with your goodbyes. She’d rehearsed the speech a million times in her head when she’d lay in her empty bed with nothing but the light of an outdoor lamppost casting shadows through the dustied window. She was so dark and utterly alone.

On the other hand, Ellie was an idiot either. She knew the reason you left was because of the fight. She knew she was being a child, and she knew that she was fighting off a force that wasn’t a threat to her, but Ellie would’ve never expected you to leave how you did strictly from her actions. You were headstrong and stubborn and everything she loves in a woman - but who's to say a human can’t have moments they regret.

Who's to say that Ellie wished she told you right then and there that she loved you instead of acting like you were a puzzle she didn’t know the answer to when she knew, damn well, that she was completely smothered in adoration for you. She knew she loved you - but saying it made her vulnerable, bare-naked.

She’d lost so many in life and getting closer to you-loving you- would just be a precursor for the pain Ellie would feel when she eventually lost you, because everyone leaves. That’s exactly what you did. You left.

Silently, you walked to the front door, grabbing your coat and slipping on your boots over your wool socks.

“You both be safe alright?”, Joel said while walking towards the both of you as you stood by the front door. He wore a smile that was interesting to say the least. You swore you could see hope in his eyes.

“Thanks again for dinner Joel.” You kindly waved him off and turned around to face Ellie who was holding open the front door for you. Chivalry isn’t crucified after all, even when it’s your ex.

It was so quiet. A howl from the wind or a nearby coyote was the only audible objects-that and the snow being smothered underneath both of your shoes. Speaking of shoes - the canvased sneakers that were nearly begging to be tossed in the trash still clung to Ellie’s feet even in this sort of weather. It made you chuckle ever so slightly.

Funny - Ellie wasn’t sure what on earth could be funny at a time like this.

“What?”

You shook your head, feeling shy all of a sudden as Ellie tried her best to figure you out. So many questions hung over her head when it came to the thought of you. A deep marooned contrast of when she was yours and you were hers; she’d never known someone as much as she knew you back then.

“No, tell me. What’s so funny”, Ellie’s words came with venom in her spit. It caught you off guard as you walked with your mouth agape before directing your eyes to the road ahead instead of Ellie’s tattered shoes.

“Those fucking things,” You said motioning to the shoes that Ellie glanced down to look at.

The skin on Ellie’s forehead screwed together as she too kept her eyes forward. “What about them?”

“Nothing.. just..still wearing those converse in the snow I see.”

Suddenly Ellie stopped in her tracks as flames began to seethe through her pupils. She felt her muscles tense up as her jaw began to ache from how hard her teeth were being gnashed together on her own accord. “Why do you do that?”

You were confused, but mimicked her stillness as your hands settled to cross in front of your chest as if it were a boundary. “Do what?”

“Talk down to me like that!”

“Oh c'mon El, you know I’m only giving you shit. Lighten up a little.”

“Lighten up? You want me to lighten up after-.” Ellie stopped the words from tumbling out of her mouth by pinching her lips together as tightly as she possibly could.

There it was. The barricade was bombed and the dam was broken. You could feel your body begin to shake and your teeth grit behind your lips as the topic that you were desperately trying to avoid-the very elephant in the room was being exposed and drawn from behind it’s curtain.

“You really want to do this now? While my fucking mother is in the hospital Ellie! I don’t know if she's even going to make it and you’re focused on why I left?”

Suddenly you were the one steaming red as your gut reaction kicked in. Your palms met Ellie’s chest as you pressed her backwards slightly. Not in an effort to physically harm her, but one that got her-the trauma-as far away from you as possible. “Get away from me.”

Of course Ellie felt bad. Your mother hadn’t even crossed her mind today, she was ashamed to say. It seems that the anger and sadness and grief of you overcame the entire reason she was seeing you face to face, thus her being too free spoken with words that fell on the spectrum of hate.

By the time she’d accepted her ignorance, you’d already started fast walking away.

“Hey, please. C’mon babe.” Ellie knew it was trouble the second the pet name was accidentally spoken.

“Don’t you dare call me that!”

Ellie could feel the tears well in her water line and god did she hate it. She hated how you were pushing her away again and again and again even if she knew why.

“Just talk to me, please.” Ellie begged with a tone that was pathetic to any ears who caught it. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t affect you.

Ellie was never one to show emotion. Exhibit A: when you confronted her about what the both of you were and she responded with “I don’t know”. You’d think the girl was a god damn Capricorn with the amount of avoidance she displayed when it came to anything emotional. But this was so much more than the stars in the sky and the time she was born.

In the heat of the moment, the both of you had already swiftly walked the route to your mothers home. You knew you shouldn’t do it, yet you felt it gnaw away through your skin, into your bones as the anger and frustration began to slither away to hide in the snow covered grass.

“Do you want to-“

“Yeah”, Ellie interrupted with several nods of her auburn colored head.

#ellie williams #tlou2 #tlou #the last of us #ellie fic #ellie the last of us #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams tlou #the last of us part 2

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mapileonxputellas · 1 year

Text

Jealousy (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

I think this might have been my favourite one so far! I hope the ending was suitable, I hate writing things in the future, I just feel like I'm pre-empting things so I couldn't include the final. Request can be found here. 4.7k words. Quite a long one!

Leaving Lyon was a tough decision to make. You were captain there for just over three years and more importantly they were your family. But you’d won all there was to win at the club and when Barcelona came with an offer it felt like fate was calling you.

You were billed as the star signing, the one who could fill the void by their own captain’s absence. You never wanted to be labelled as this replacement for Alexia, though you both played in the same position you were very different players. When news of her injury reached you during the Euro’s you couldn’t help but feel gutted you wouldn’t get to play alongside her.

The previous season has been kind to you, finishing the club season with a Champions League medal and going on to win the Euro’s, but as soon as you stepped foot into the Barcelona training centre you couldn’t help but feel different, in some ways complete. Thankfully the players were all very professional and only a few joking comments were made about your goal against Barcelona in the Champions League final.

You weren’t expecting to get the captain’s armband but Alexia’s absence as well as a few niggling injuries left you with the armband and your leadership was undeniable by the coaching staff.

Alexia herself had been a mystery to you, you’d seen her around the facility and at a few games but you never had the chance to speak to her.

But today that would change as today you were informed would be her first day back in group training, she had a long way to go to be back playing but you knew how big a step this was. Just over four years ago you had been subject to those three little letters, three letters which changed your life. You were excited for Alexia, the recovery process was so long and you were determined to make her first session back a good one.

You arrived at the training ground hours before anyone else was meant to be there to add some little changes. You bought a little welcome back sign to hang on her locker, sourced her favourite wine and chocolates for her to take home after and got all the girls to sign a card on their way in.

You watched on as she came in to get changed before training, letting all her friends shower her with congratulations as you got changed with Claudia one side of you and Patri the other.

“Have you met Alexia yet?” Claudia asked as you tied your shoelaces.

“No, well not properly. I don’t think being opposing captains counts.”

“She’s lovely, you’ll both get along.” Patri reassured you. “You’re both very similar.”

“I hope so.”

There was never a better time than the present and you waited back at the end as people flooded out to get the chance to speak to her alone and introduce yourself. Only when you locked eyes on her, instead of waiting for you to finish she made her way out of the dressing room.

You always gave people the benefit of the doubt and presumed maybe she thought you weren’t heading out, instead leaving you running after her. “Hey.” You started once you were level with the Spaniard, a single glance sent your way before she carried on walking. “I don’t think we’ve met before, well properly. I’m Y/N.”

“I know.” Ok you weren’t exactly expecting that, her lack of words was cold but her the tone made it all the colder. But sometimes to your downfall you were a painful optimist and maybe she was just having a bad day.

“Erm, how are you feeling? The team really misses you out there, everyone always talks about you and-“

“Listen OK?” She whisper aggressively, her fingers reaching out to grip your wrist. “I don’t need you to give me a debrief about my own team. I know them more than you ever will and things will change now.”

“Alexia I-“

“Stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours.”

It shocked you how much her words hurt. You dealt with anger all the time on the pitch, getting equally angry when defending your team but this felt different. This felt like a personal attack.

You tried to hide the hurt in your face as you reached the rest of the group in the gym, all stood in a circle waiting for their captain.

“I want to say a few words.” Jona said as you stood between Alexia and Ana. “Ale we can’t wait to have you back in the team. You’ve worked so hard up until now, one final push and you’ll be back out there in no time. Let’s finish this season strongly, I want a medal around all our necks at the end of the season.”

“We’ve captured the enemy now, of course we will.” Ana teased wrapping her arm around your shoulder. “The final piece of the puzzle.”

You stole a glance at the woman beside you and almost cowered back at cold eyes watching you and Ana. You tried to give her a reassuring smile as the rest of the group started chanting her name but that didn’t stop the frown on her face. When Jona brought out the presents you had bought on behalf of the group with the signed card you couldn’t help but notice you was the only one she didn’t thank, the only one who didn’t receive a hug. Not even a glance when you heard her asking Sandra about it.

“Oh Y/N sorted it out, she likes organising things like that.” Sandra commented not noticing the anger growing on Alexia’ face.

“Oh really.”

“Yeah that’s why she’s a leader.” The look that comment made could have turned you into stone.

One thing was for sure, this was definitely the biggest hurdle you’d encountered in Barcelona.

…..

The following day was the first time you got to witness the full La Reina effect on the pitch. But from minute one it felt like she was going out of her way to make your day horrible.

When you walked into the canteen that morning and lined up alongside her you hoped maybe yesterday had just been a bad day for her however as you found the frown on her face you knew that was not the case.

But whatever was going on you weren’t going to rise to her level and gave her the smile people often described as charming. “Alexia how are you this morning?”

“Fine.”

Wow the chat was scintillating. “I’m glad there’s one apple left I can’t start my day without one.” You said noticing the one apple left as you firstly got your scrambled eggs on toast. “What about you? Any traditions?”

“No.”

It shouldn’t have really been a surprise to you when you got to the end of the breakfast bar and found the fruit bowl lacking any apples and it really shouldn’t have surprised you when you turned around and found one sat on the tray in front of Alexia, a smirk on her face as she sat down.

“Ale I thought you never had an apple in the morning?” Jana questioned. “You never start the day without an orange.”

“It’s always worth a change.” Of course it was, not at all because of the comment you’d made.

“No apple this morning?” Claudia questioned when you sat down, the smirk only growing on Alexia’s face as she looked up at you.

“No there were none left.”

“Here have mine.” Frido pushed hers down the table, being received with a thankful smile from you. “Can’t have our little superstar without her favourite breakfast.” If looks could kill…..

It didn’t stop there.

During just the warm-up of the training session it felt like she was everywhere. The occasional shoulder barge into your side during the drills, the little nicks under your feet during the rondos, you were half surprised she hadn’t two footed you during the five-a-side match.

“Do you think it will be weird playing against Vicky?” Bruna asked Alexia during the water break referencing the former Barcelona captain now playing for Roma who you’d just been drawn against for the Champions League.

“It will be weird but you should all be confident. There’s no-one left who we shouldn’t believe we can beat. We were unfairly beat in that final but this year is different, none of those players would get anywhere near us when we’re at our best.”

Usually you would assume a comment like that would be made forgetting your link to that team but you knew Alexia’s game and you knew she made that comment directed at you.

“And now with Salma, Lucy, Geyse, Nuria we’re a better team.”

She was being horrible, malicious and it was all directed at you but you had no reason why. You’d been wracking your brains all night trying to find some kind of reasoning for her seemingly hating you. The two of you had never had a run in before, well at least that was memorable enough to have some kind of grudge. The two of you had been up for awards together but she’d always won, including this year’s Ballon d’or but even then on the flight there she must have already had some ill feelings towards you.

“Come on captain.” Vicky came up beside you tugging your arm. “Let’s win this match.”

Football has and probably always will be the out you have for your emotions. Feeling happy: go and pick up a ball. Feeling sad: go and pick up a ball. Right now with the mixture of sadness and anger running through your veins you picked up that ball and gave the small, sided game your all.

You weren’t a malicious player but you got stuck into every tackling, winning most and always being clean and fair.

Maybe that meant it was fair game in her eyes, fair game to give it her all as well. Make sure she left a mark on you, never going so far as to injure you but you knew tomorrow morning you would be covered in bruises from her tight marking on you.

“That was some battle.” Jona wrapped his arms around the pair of you as you walked off the pitch. “I don’t think we can play the both of you at the same time, it just wouldn’t be fair on the opposition.”

“Yeah.” You feigned an agreement knowing how much you wanted to play with Alexia before this all happened, now you weren’t so sure.

“Go and practice your free-kicks.”

The two of you joined Mapi at the far goal posts, Caro and Salma also staying back as the others did some rondos.

It was stupid you’d played in front of millions before, you’d lifted the biggest trophy in club football and yet you’d never felt nerves like practicing free kicks in front of the Queen herself. Thankfully you thrived under pressure and all three balls found their way to the back of the net.

“Way to go princesa.” Mapi found her nickname for you soon after you’d arrived thanks to your healthy addiction to a good beauty treatment. When you weren’t playing football on a Sunday you would more than likely be found in the local spa facilities.

Mapi and Caro made their way over to the corner flag to practice corner kicks leaving the two of you watching Salma line the ball up. “Maybe if you didn’t spend so much time getting ready you could spend some time on your shooting. Any good goalkeeper would have saved all three of them.” Alexia whispered in your ear.

“They were top bins Alexia.”

“Keep telling yourself that. We don’t settle for mediocracy here, remember that.”

“It’s a good thing the manager doesn’t think that. There’s a reason I’ve been sharing the duties with Mapi.”

“You two good?” Salma asked raising her eyebrows at our hushed voices.

“We’re fine thanks.” You assured the young girl. “I was just asking about the plans for travelling tomorrow.”

“Good.”

If she was going to act like this you could take it, you were big enough to deal with someone not liking you. The problem came with the team dynamics, you weren’t about to let some vendetta affect the rest of the team.

“This won’t work if you can’t even look me in the eye.” You whispered as you made your way inside at the end of training. “Whether you like it or not we’re on the same team, when we’re on the pitch forget about it.”

“Fine.”

“Sure?”

“Yes.”

…..

Things didn’t get better, they just got manageable. You grew to ignore the glares, ignore the little comments made, ignore the fact that every morning just in case there was always an apple on her plate and yet it never got touched.

She kept her promise, no matter what she thought of you off the field, which you still hadn’t worked out, it always stopped the moment you stepped foot on the pitch. That didn’t mean you were best friends on the pitch but you could share a few tactical words and miraculously the two of you worked well together.

Maybe it shouldn’t have been as much of a surprise to you, you had spent a lot of time reading her game both for Lyon to play against her and for Barcelona to play with her. You knew all the moves she made, the way she liked to push forward and when she held back. So you adapted your game to suit that, you knew if Barcelona had to choose they would pick her and you knew you could play alongside her with a few subtle changes rather than just you or her. When she would push on you stayed back, when she moved into one area you placed yourself where you knew she liked to lay the ball back.

Today you would be pushing those limits even further as Alexia prepared to make her return in the league. Alexia had admitted herself that Chelsea in the Champion’s League wasn’t the right time to return in a match with so much at stake but today you had the chance to win the league and by half time you were already 1-0 up, Jana soon making it two in the second half.

Jona gave you the decision of when you felt it was comfortable enough to get Alexia back on the pitch and when you got that two-goal cushion you knew you would be able to control the game from here so you made the signal and waited for them to make the change. At this point you were beginning to tire having played 90 minutes just three days prior and now another 65 minutes.

When the board came up with your number on it as well as the number 11 you made your way over to the touchline, unstrapping the band from around your forearm and held it out so Alexia could put her arm through it. Without looking her in the eye you made a point of strapping it up for her and then brought her in for the usual interchange hug before making your way to the bench.

You took your seat on the edge of the bench next to Mapi, the player handing you a water bottle and allowing you to catch your breath.

“Was she alright?” You questioned knowing Alexia was in your seat only a few moments prior.

“She’s ready, bit nervous but she wants to be there for this moment.”

The final 20 minutes went by very quickly Assisat scoring the final goal to seal the league title win. On the final whistle you all made your way onto the pitch, one of your biggest ‘superstitions’ if you would call it that was to always go around and shake all the opponents’ hands before you celebrated any cup or trophy win and this came into that category. You shook all the hands of the Huelva players and their coaching staff before joining your teammates.

Ana was the first one to spot you and the Swiss giant opened her arms up for you to jump into as she twirled you around in the air. “We did it.” You shouted down her ear as you felt further arms wrap around you.

“You did it.” She put you down on the floor and put her hands on your shoulders to meet your eye. “Take a bit of credit, you’re an incredible player.”

“Thanks Ana.”

So far you were thankful no-one had noticed, or at least commented, on a rift between you and Alexia and you weren’t about to let them see it now. You joined the rest of the girls in the traditional celebration for a player returning by throwing them up in the air for three cheers before you all made your way over to the front for the trophy presentation.

“Alexia if you could follow me.” An official came down to guide Alexia up into the stands for the trophy collection. You could see the glances that came your way but in your mind Alexia was always the captain and she should have this moment so you watched on, a smile etched on your face as you saw the joy in her face at lifting the trophy.

“Y/N come on.” Before you had the chance to protest Marta grabbed your hand leading you to the front of the pack as Alexia came down with the trophy.

“This is for you two, you’re the captains.” You tried to get through to Marta as you knew Alexia wouldn’t like this.

“You’ve led this team for the past eight months. You deserve this moment as much as we do.”

You could see there was no room for manoeuvre in her tone and in her face, simply staying put where you were. When Alexia clocked you standing amongst Marta you could see the distain on her face hidden by one of the fakest smiles you’d seen in a long time. You allowed yourself this moment, tucking into one side of Alexia and wrapping your hand around the metal trophy to lift it together as one.

“You two deserve this.” Marta whispered wrapping you both in a hug and pressing a kiss to both of your foreheads. “This team wouldn’t work without the both of you.”

“I don’t think-“

“It’s true, everyone thinks it. We all love you both.”

“Thank you.”

……

After the league win it was fair to say both you and Alexia were observers of the main celebrations, both of you knowing that the Champions League was the main aim this season. You both drove the standards in training knowing what a stern task Wolfsburg would be. The games leading up to the final all had major rotation so Alexia and yourself were yet to play more than twenty minutes in the dying embers of the game together, the captaincy always with Alexia.

The day before the final it was decided both you and Alexia would be part of the pre-match press conference in Eindhoven taking your placed behind the podium with Jonaton.

Jonaton of course covered all the tactic and personnel questions before you were both in the spotlight.

“Y/N it’s hard to believe this is still your first season in Barcelona. How much would it mean for you to lift that trophy tomorrow?”

“Yeah the time has definitely flown by. I came from a team of winners and I’ve joined a team of winners and we won’t settle for anything less than perfection tomorrow. I want more than anything to feel that joy I felt last year.”

“How would you assess your first year? Did you expect to be as integral to the side as you have been both in playing and in your captaincy?”

“It’s been a bit of a crazy year. I have high standards for myself and I hope both the club and fans can see that. I came here because I believed I could add something to the team and I hope they can see what I bring to the plate. In terms of the captaincy that is simply a role I have been sharing with many members of the team even if I sometimes have the armband. Alexia may not have been on the pitch for a long time this season but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have the leadership in training and before matches.”

“We’ve yet to see much of you two together on the pitch. Does that excite you?”

“Of course, I’ve watched Alexia for a long time now and I hope we can work together on the pitch soon, will that be tomorrow? I guess only Jona knows that.”

“Alexia how much would it mean to you winning the trophy tomorrow after the year you’ve had?”

“Yes it would be very special. I’ve worked hard behind the scenes but more importantly this team has got us to this point and I hope I can be a part of the final push tomorrow.”

“You’ve probably watched a lot of this team over that past 12 months. How have you improved since last year?”

“That final taught us a lot about ourselves and of course the improvements we have to make both in terms of our play but also our mindset. Of course we improved in personnel, Y/N has been a massive part of that and answering a previous question I can’t wait to play with her.”

Wow, you weren’t quite sure if she was being fully truthful or if this was all a show but it had to be worth something, right?

Unbeknownst to the two of you, the rest of the team were watching the interview in the other room. A light murmur of chatter amongst everyone as they watched the two people they considered their captains complimenting each other.

“Have you ever noticed that weird tension between those two? I’ve never really seen them talk but they just work on the pitch, they’re different when they’re playing together.” Ingrid asked Mapi, the two of them sat on one of the beanbags. “Is it just sexual tension that neither of them will give into?”

“How can you miss it? I’ve tried asking Alexia about it but she just dismisses it. Maybe they’re hiding something, I’ve never even seen them interact more than a glare at each other.”

“Ten euros they’re together by next season.”

“Ten euros they’re together by the world cup.”

…..

Alexia didn’t say a word to you after the conference, the both of you separately making your way up to your rooms. Thankfully the club had given you all single rooms so you didn’t have anyone disturbing you as you tried to work out Alexia. She had been nothing but horrible to you since you first met each other and yet she said all that in the press conference. It just wasn’t adding up.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a quiet knock on your door if you weren’t completely silent you probably wouldn’t have heard it but you did. It was only eight o’clock but you were about to try and get an early night.

Presuming it was one of the younger ones who had forgot something you went to answer the door but instead of seeing Bruna or Jana at the door, your heart started racing when you came face to face with Alexia.

“Hi.” Her whispers were barely audible as your mind spiralled as to what she could be here for. “Can I come in?”

“Of course.” Her voice knocked you out of your daydream as you opened the door wider for Alexia. “Take a seat.”

Alexia sat herself down on the vanity chair as you took a seat on the bed, wondering what was going on with the woman as she started at her hands, picking her fingernails.

“Are you alright?” You questioned breaking the silence.

“I um, I-“ You’d never seen Alexia like this, nervously fumbling over her words and a hesitant look on her face. “I want to apologise before tomorrow.”

You hoped you knew what she was apologising for but you wanted the full clarification. “Apologise about what?”

“When I first found out I’d done my ACL I was worried about how this injury would change me, how I would never be the same after it and how different things would be when I’m gone. When I heard Barcelona were signing you I knew that would jeopardise my place on the squad, I heard everyone talk about what an amazing player you were and of course I knew that myself. Then you got the captaincy armband and it just felt like you were my replacement.”

“Ale-“

“So when I came back I had this almost anger to you that you’d got to be a part of this team, that you’d got to lead them out at Camp Nou and seen those wins. I was jealous, I admit that and I heard someone mention it once that the only way to settle this was for one of us to leave.”

“So you did all this so I would leave?”

“I thought the only way to push you to leave was to be horrible to you. I can’t believe how horrible I was to you when you didn’t deserve any of it. I’m so sorry Y/N, I’ve been waiting for this moment for a few weeks but I can’t go in tomorrow with any tension between us. We’ve got to work together.”

“Thank you, but Ale it was never you or I.” You assured her. “I came on this team to work with you not instead of you. When you came back into training I genuinely just wanted to play with you and then you seemed to be trying to make my life a living hell, it was like you were going out of your way to disrupt my day.”

“I tried to hate you but it’s just impossible, you’ve got this smile that everyone seems to love and you always give everything 100%. Plus the team love you, I’m sick of hearing Jana talk about your dancing or Mapi talking about your tattoos. I want to see that side of you.”

“Hug it out?”

“Come here.” You wrapped your arms around the Spaniard, her own arms coming up around your neck as you settled into the hug.

You could never hate Alexia no matter how much she almost pushed you to it, you could never do it, you knew what injuries could do to people and this was no different. You were sadly just the one who got the rough end of it.

“Do you reckon Jonaton will play us together tomorrow?” You asked separating from the hug, a smile on both of your faces.

“I hope so. I really hope so.”

If it weren’t the night before the final you would have been up till the early hours getting to know Alexia but instead you both went for the early night option, your dedication to the sport the biggest thing you admired about each other.

It wasn’t lost on you the few glances you got the next morning as you both walked into the canteen together laughing and joking about a story Alexia was telling you about Nala. The both of you ignoring them as you sat down, a little comment made about the lack of an apple on Alexia’s plate instead just an orange next to her avocado on toast. “I need you on top form for tonight.” Alexia had commented back.

“You’re seeing that right?” Ingrid whispered to Mapi. “Yesterday they wouldn’t speak two words together and now they’re laughing and joking like this.”

“Loud and clear. Maybe now we can see the true La Reina and Princesa on the pitch together.”

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso imagines #woso #espwnt x reader #espwnt imagine #espwnt #barcelona femeni imagine #barcelona femeni

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auspicioustidings · 2 months

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EEE

The pound being a correction facility, their goal to correct the behavior of the pets as quickly as possible. I can imagine their not very interested in doing it themselves most of the time.

Probably machine based punishments, sensory deprivation, bound in place to a machine or vibe or something, leaving the pet there for extended periods of time till the pound gets the results they want ><

Anon, you are a genius! Also FYI things are very bad and no good below the cut.

When you are taken nobody talks to you and in your state you don't really care. Graves gives you a thorough physical exam, it's all sterilised and clinical how he slides gloves fingers into you and presses everywhere to see where gets a reaction. He uses a speculum to hold you open and prod about your cervix, he flushes out your system with an enema, his fingers spend ten minutes examining you mouth, feeling all around your soft palat, caressing each tooth and testing your gag reflex thoroughly.

It's a new kind of violation because it's so impersonal. This isn't being a pet, it's the cold examining of some wild animal.

It's always Graves at the end of the week performing his exams. They range from just a thorough cleaning to him piercing a metal tag through your clit that lists his clinical notes on your vagina. Sometimes he gives you injections and you don't know what they are, you only know that at least one made you feel like you were so tight his finger may as well have been a battering ram. But you would take him and his shadow "nurses" over Konig and his kortac "trainers".

Konig is a scary man just by sheer size. He does speak to you, yells at you, barks orders. They are all in Austrian and you don't understand, but then given how he delights in punishing you for it you think that's the idea. He's the one who uses machines.

It's what gets him off really. He loves watching you immobile, folded in half and held in a perspex box with only your head and your holes sticking out. There's a scoreboard on the wall. Each of his people gets an hour with you a week and whoever has wrung the most orgasms from you gets bought a beer. They get creative. Anytime you think you get used to one contraption, they produce another.

Some of them come in and see the board before deciding that they're not going to win that week, so they don't need to make any of this hour pleasurable for you (not that the orgasms feel pleasurable anymore, the overstimulation is painful). Those weeks are the worst because it usually starts a train reaction. When someone comes in and sees your pussy covered in marks from being paddled they forget all about the initial competition and see who can make you scream the loudest instead.

The only reason you have any concept of time is because they theme it sometimes. On Halloween week they all dressed up. Horangi was the worst because he dressed as a baseball fury and spent the hour seeing just how much of that bat you could take.

But between their visits you are left alone. The room is bright, no decoration. There is nothing to distract your mind from the constant vibration on your clit and the machines fucking your pussy or ass or both. Sometimes there are clamps on your nipples, sometimes not. If Konig is in a bad mood you have a machine fucking your throat as well. If he's in a good mood he might take you out for a bit to strap you to his torso so he can go about his day with his cock being warmed inside you. At least then there is some distraction because it's starting to be worse when you're alone than when they are there. That's why the training works, it makes you so needy for any external interaction that you are willing to be whatever slut they want if they'll just spend some time with you.

The man responsible for turning you into an attack dog is called Nikto. He is violent and you never see his face. You did not know there were men that existed as cruel and cold as him. When he gets you, you have to be sent to recovery for a week. If it wasn't so horrific what he does to you then you could almost see the bright side because recovery is with Mace and Roze. You don't see them outside of recovery, but they don't ever hurt you during. The small kindness they give you is so foreign in this place that everytime you just sob for hours while they comfort you. It's all part of the process of course, all part of breaking you down and then getting you attached.

Within a few months they have their perfect dog. Takes whatever you give her because she's so desperate for anything at all. Attacks on command because anything Mace tells her to do must be for her own good. Is kept the perfect specimen through the "medical" team.

They think they have you right where they want you. But there is always a final test. And they did not anticipate how you would react. After all, so many people who work at the pound were animals once themselves, broken and moulded to break and mould the next generation. It was hubris really, to capture good boy. It was arrogance to think they had you so well trained as theirs that you would follow orders to treat him how they treated you. It's what ultimately leads to you busting both of you the hell out of there.

#mhairianswers #mhairi's good boy bad girl

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hell-drabbles · 6 months

Text

Mammon 3

Summary: You had a midnight craving and get up for snacks. While you're munching in the dark, Mammon walks right in. With underwear this time. Huh. He actually listened to you.

(Yay Embittered Companion and Mammon interactions! It's really fun to have people talking while they're drinking, for some reason. There's a certain level of intimacy that I like from this.)

Sleep easily evades you when you're sleeping on a bed that just wasn't your own. The mattress in this guest room just didn't have that dip that wrapped around your form, and the blankets were of textures you just weren't used to.

All this discomfort kept you away, and because you were kept awake, you got hungry.

So, here you are, grabbing a bag of snacks from a fancy cabinet made of gold, and relaxing under a single light in this huge and echoing kitchen.

It's nice. The air was cold enough and the floor was perfectly heated. While it was dark beyond that singular light, enough of the moon's light shined through the windows to keep you from feeling isolated and alone.

You were just going to munch, clean up, and then enjoy this time by your lonesome.

But, this is Hell, and rarely do you get anything you want, especially when you're around the ever-wanted Ra-on.

Mammon walked through the door, his gold eyes and golden horn failing to blend in the darkness. Though, that's about all you can see.

"Oh." A simple utterance from his lips, like he didn't expect you to be here.

"Hmm." You sighed through your nose then looked away. And here you thought you could have a rare moment to yourself.

Yes, yes, this is his place. He has every right to roam as he pleases, but… You've seen him walk around naked on more than one occasion, so you never look forward to encountering him at night.

You were content to ignore him, to just let him walk to the fridge for whatever he wants, but instead, he stepped into the limelight. He leaned against table you're at, blatantly staring at your face with a mischievous smile on his.

He didn't say anything. Just stared, and waited while you ignored him.

Eventually, you sighed again and looked over.

"What do you–" then, something white caught your attention, "Oh. You're wearing underwear. Huh."

His smile grew wider and he stood back to his full height. "Well, why wouldn't I be wearing them? Didn't you tell me to do so?"

Ah, that you did, in a haze of disgust and annoyance.

"I did," you opened a bottle and poured your drink into a clean glass, "I didn't think you'd listen. Isn't Ra-on the master to give you orders?"

Mammon walked away but continued talking. "You still think of me like that? As someone that ignores the voices of his possess–" He stopped just as he placed a glass of his own on the table. He cleared his throat. "As someone that picks and chooses who to listen and who to ignore?"

Lackluster recovery there, Mammon. But, you're not in the mood to nitpick.

"Does that come with the king territory?" you raised an eyebrow, but poured the bottle in your hand into his glass, "But, you have been listening to me, so I guess no. I don't really think of you that way. Would've left the room as soon as you came in."

"Oh?" Mammon picked up the glass and swirled the drink around, "You wouldn't have picked up the nearest vase and throw it at my near my face as a warning? And here I thought my every action made you angry to no end. Shame. In a way, I almost miss it."

You took a long sip and tipped your head back to enjoy the flavor. "I'm not a constant ball of anger, Mammon. I know when to pick and choose my outbursts. Besides, you don't actually make me all that angry, at least not all the time."

Honestly, compared to the others, Mammon's the one you get angry at the least. Well, among the kings anyway. You never got angry at Ppyong. Not even once.

"Though, ever since that day, on our first meeting, you haven't shown that fierce and loud anger towards me," Mammon put down his drink and leaned against the counter, "So, I have to ask, what did I do to tip you off to that extent?"

You crunched into chip and nearly bit your cheek. You breathed in, then out.

"…whenever anyone wants something out of a specific person, the first thing they do is tell them how special they are," had it been Leviathan or Satan asking you these questions, you would've ignored them and go back to your room, "how so much better they are to the rest of the people they've ever met. Not to actually get to know the person, but to get to that specific end result faster, because any other method would lead to that person saying no to you. It reeks of everything I hate in a person, that blatant disrespect."

"But, if all parties are willing, then does it really matter? Seems to me that you were quite petty, on that day." His smile was still wide, still swimming of the afterglow of sex and the cool embrace of the night with a chilled beer at hand.

Your glass clinked loudly on the table.

"You don't respect the previous encounters you've had," fine, fine, you'll quite beating around the bush, "'Oh, all the other humans are boring but you, you're the special one, and doesn't that make you feel good? That I don't care for other humans unless they interest me in a way that's convenient for me?' That's what you sounded like to me. And that pissed me off, because I've had to deal with other shitheads like you on a daily basis, because Ra-on was was unconscious and sick and you decided that this would be the perfect situation to make a move! Why wouldn't I be pissed?!"

Ah, just remembering that day makes you want to grind your teeth. You remember waking up and seeing this devil attempting to crawl into the same bed as Ra-on. Took you everything you had to grab at his robes and yank him away from his bed. He sat on a chair instead, and you thought that was that, but then he started saying those words, emphasizing the special aspects of Ra-on while calling the other humans, the lower humans boring for reacting in a perfectly human manner.

You can't stand anything or anyone who takes "special" to mean "better than everyone." To have value depend on the existence of lower statuses.

Mammon's eyes were wide, taken aback at your rush of words.

You relaxed your jaw and practically deflated into a chair. It's too late for this.

"So, yeah," you took another sip just to refresh your voice, "I just didn't like the way you spoke, speaking like Ra-on was above human beings, while insulting other human for being themselves."

"I see. You love humans as much as I love all that belongs to me." He laughed as though he discovered something amusing.

"Yeah? No shit. I come from them, Mammon," Yeah, you get disgusted by the absolute abyss that is human greed and apathy, but kindness is the backbone of it all. Kindness is as stubborn as the horrors that threaten to consume it. And, as such, you refuse to lose faith in your own kind. You refuse to let anyone put down humans just so they can elevate one person above all others.

"I suppose I too would be insulted if you loved only one thing of my vast wealth while calling everything else boring."

Mammon finally pulled out a chair and sat down. Noisily, he scooted until he was next to you, though you had enough space to stretch out your arms. He downed his drink in one go and and tapped his glass against the bottle. He winked at you when you poured.

"Well, as long as you listen." You sighed. "Pretty glad that you do listen, actually."

Otherwise, you wouldn't let Mammon near Ra-on in the first place, nor would you let Ra-on entertain the thought of seeking this king out. He's… tolerable to an extent.

"Though I might do it again," Mammon looked away for a moment with a sly smile before looking back to you, "will you be there to correct me if I slip up?"

"No," your voice was flat but you couldn't help the smile, "you're a grown devil. You can learn by yourself."

"Then I guess I'll have to chase you for that lesson," Mammon raised his drink.

"Good luck with that, bastard."

You both clinked your glasses together and drank.

#whb #what in hell is bad #drabble #what in “hell” is bad #hell-drabbles #hell-drabbles exclusive #embittered companion au #tartaros #mammon #reader insert

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ghostofskywalker · 10 months

Note

Hi hun, I was wondering could you write 🥺

Bucky Barnes w/ fem reader with the quote

“You love me?” || “I always have”

If it’s taken I can choose another 💜

hi missy!! i will absolutely write that for you, it's so cute <;3

words: 766

summary: when you wake up after a mission, confessions are made.

Bedside Visitor

bucky barnes masterlist

The feeling of waking up in the medical wing of the Avengers Compound was not something you cherished, but it did happen more than you would have liked it to. This time however, was not because of a trip down the stairs or a bad cold, but an injury sustained in the field. There was nothing you could do about it now, but you’d prefer not to relive the memory of getting shot in the stomach again.

Once your eyes had adjusted to harsh light of this room, you noticed that you weren’t alone, and you were in no way surprised about who was sitting on one of the uncomfortable chairs across from the foot of your bed.

“Bucky,” you breathed in a voice no louder than a whisper, just glad to see that he was okay. You weren’t surprised that your best friend would be here, but you certainly hoped that he had taken care of himself before camping out here to watch over your sleeping body.

You didn’t want to wake him, but unfortunately you were not successful in that endeavor. Seconds later he was at your bedside, looking into your eyes with an expression of worry you had never seen before. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” you said, not wanting to worry him any more than he clearly was.

“I watched you pass out,” he said, clearly not calmed down by your brushing off of the subject. “And there’s a hole in your abdomen.”

“Okay, so maybe I’m not feeling super great right now,” his eyebrows raised as you spoke. “But I made it out, we’re back in the compound, everything is going to be fine, I promise.”

“Y/N-”

“Bucky-”

“From where I’m standing, this is very much not fine,” he said seriously. “When I heard the gunshot, when you fell, I felt like my whole life flashed before my eyes.”

“Wow,” you said. “Didn’t know I had such an effect on you, Bucko.”

You could he was starting to get annoyed, but you weren’t completely sure why. Yes, you knew that you cared for you, you cared for him too. But this job wasn’t exactly all meetings and presentations, and you were not the first member of the team to land themselves in a situation that required medical care because of something that had happened out on a mission.

“Can we please be serious for a moment?” he asked, and you nodded, not wanting to annoy him too much. “How are you feeling?”

“Not too bad, considering what has happened to me in the last twenty four hours,” you said. “But that’s probably because of some kind of medication they have me on.”

“Yeah, the doctors put something in the IV,” he said, nodding. “They told me that with some time and physical therapy you’ll make a full recovery, but I still can’t help being worried. I’ve never liked it when the people I love are in pain, and this is no exception.”

Whatever you were originally going to say in response completely vacated your brain, and you were left to process the insane admittance that Bucky probably hadn’t even realized he had made. “You love me?”

He stopped, as if just now putting the pieces together. You watched as his face changed, his brain clearly trying to figure out something to say in response before he let out a soft sigh and spoke. “I always have. But I was never sure how you felt about me, so I kept it to myself. I’d rather be your friend than lose you over something as stupid as this.”

“Bucky,” you said, reaching out in search of his hand. As if he knew what you wanted, he extended it in your direction. “First of all, you could never lose me, and especially not over something as stupid as this. And second of all, I love you too.”

He stopped, an expression of surprise crossing his face, then a smile. “Really?”

You nodded. “Really. And I’d really like to kiss you, but I can’t really move my body right now.”

He laughed before leaning down to place a soft kiss on your lips, and as much as you would have liked to have your first kiss not severely injured, it was perfect in a way you could never truly put words to.

But of course, there would be many chances for re-dos, and you never wanted to stop kissing him. And from the way he poured all his emotions into this kiss, you had an inkling that he probably felt the same way.

- the end -

i no longer have a taglist! if you're interested in being notified when i post, you can follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library and turn on notifications!

#winterficlets23 #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x gender neutral reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel x reader

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camlyee · 1 month

Text

an event that changed several lives forever.

↓ lore dump below ↓

Note: transcript for the images will be at the bottom of the post (sorry for the messy handwriting!)

Gitriea-II — the planet of isolation.

I wanted this piece to highlight the cataclysmic event that took place at Gitriea-II’s church that altered the lives of hundreds, though most didn’t know that that night would be their last. Only few survived to recall the tragedy.

TW for vague mentions of abuse, death, and religious trauma.

(so please read with caution)

I won’t go into extreme detail about every character, I’ll probably make separate posts deep diving into each character more and give them the attention they deserve. I’ll briefly mention each character in order (top to bottom) and their present faction.

- Gabriel — Genius Society as an assistant, but pursues architectural studies through the Intelligentsia Guild

- Eve (left) — Intelligentsia Guild (cousins with Gabriel and Shiloh)

- Shiloh — Astral Express member (Gabriel’s little sibling)

- Mary (red hair) — Astral Express member

- Elijah (in Mary’s arms) — Stellaron Hunter

Gabriel and Mary had been planning on wedding, as throughout their youth they were hopelessly in love with each other (it was a kind of puppy love, one slipping the other gifts or gentle hand touches). They hadn’t done anything out of line for two teenagers planning on marrying one another, until they shared a kiss. It was sweet, but it was forbidden. You were expected to reserve your chastity until you were wed, as that was how the Church functioned. Any kind of forbidden acts would lead to punishment, and Gabriel was more than aware of that. As every time he would answer a question wrong or was out of line, the Mothers would ‘redirect’ him with force. He always kept his sleeves rolled down because of it. Mary was already known to be a ‘defective’ child, as her parents went against the church and were ostracized. Mary’s bright red hair and vibrant yellow eyes matched her mother’s and father’s respectively, so there was no hiding her roots. She was a slightly rebellious teenager, though. She knew little about her parents, but remember how much they loved each other, and how she wanted to share that love with Gabriel. Gabriel was scared, though. The paranoia took over him and clawed at his throat, and he was truly afraid of the consequences of loving too much before marriage.

Gabriel would’ve never expected what would’ve happened to Mary when he told the Mothers about what they did. Searing wax poured on her gentle and soft hands, scorching the skin and forever altering both her mind and her flesh. She would never be able to love with her hands again, that’s what the mothers said. After days of her recovery, Mary had approached Gabriel, a smile on her face with hope that things between them wouldn’t be ruined. She didn’t know he was the one that told the mothers. As she asked about how he was, she was met with a cold and unforgiving gaze, a scowl curled on his lips with venom. He told her to never speak to him again, and the whiplash of cruelty brought tears to her eyes. He was never like this before, why was he being so cruel now? Was she truly never meant to love anyone?

With a broken heart, she respected his wishes and left him alone, and not long after, he left to do his missionary work. Maybe he’ll find a woman that can love him, she thought. It took a while for Mary to navigate her tasks with the state of her hands now. But, eventually she was able to do her work with minimal accidents. She worked hard, though being told plenty of times that she was ‘defective’, she wanted the approval from the mothers. She wanted to become a mother and make people proud of her. So she worked. She worked so hard.

One night, she had been cleaning around one of the prayer rooms. She often worked at night so she wouldn’t have the urge to talk to anyone, as it often resulted into an uncomfortable end. She did still experience issues with fine motor skills, especially with her fingers and wrists. The prayer rooms often had plenty of lit candles, as it was one of the primary ways the Church remained lit during the night. Mary reached over with her rag to gently dust an area near the candles and consequently knocked one over. The embers didn’t take long to travel up the cloth hanging over the alter and up the walls. There were dozens of lit candles, and they all began to fester into a large flame. She hurriedly ran out to get help, but it was too late by the time she had gotten to one of the boys in the church, Isaac. The embers quickly engulfed the church, and Mary was only able to pull one other person out, a small child, Elijah. She had no idea there were other survivors.

By the time Gabriel returned home from his missionary duties, it was far too late. The church was nothing but ashes. He couldn’t believe it. Everything he had cared about was gone, and he was sure this was his God’s plan for divine punishment. It has to be. He let out a distraught cry and fell to his knees, the bitter cold snow engulfing him in an icy hug. He sobbed and sobbed until all his senses went numb and everything went dark.

holy shit yapfest over, i hope y’all enjoy some of this writing stuff.. i didn’t even talk about Rory and Isaac, but they’re not in this piece sooo..

Elijah, Shiloh, Isaac, and Rory all belong to @sawnday and he also was a writer for a lot of this lore so.. credit :)

Transcript for the image: (left to right)

> Home to a large church orphanage that follows the Abundance (Yaoshi)

Notes:

- Two Moons

- Below Freezing most of their calendar year

- Minimal daylight

Gitriea-II

- An isolated planet that suffers from a near-frozen climate due to distance from any sun/star.

- Very minimal life, but a few human civilizations call it home.

- Minimal outside influence, but ships can be seen occasionally departing this planet.

- Not much is known about the origins of the planet.

#camlyee art #honkai star rail #hsr #hsr fanart #my ocs #oc artwork #hsr ocs #artists on tumblr #gitriea-II camlyee #camlyee lore #HOLY SHIT IT IS DONE IM SO RELIEVED #i have so much oc lore up my sleeve dw guys #and sorry gabriel is my scrimblo trust #also imagine shiloh has wings. shiloh is halovian. but their burn is from the fire #also they really hate mary because it looked like she abandoned them when she didn’t even see them #hahaa dramaaaa

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veryace-ficrecs · 5 months

Note

Hi! Hope you take requests: any Trafalgar Law-centric angst/dark/whump recs? I would really like to see him suffer. Thank you!

I absolutely do!! I love answering asks! :D

Trafalgar Law Angst Fic Recs

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

Some Kind of Joke by gryphonshadow - Rated E

When Trafalgar Law’s duel with Doflamingo on Green Bit ends disastrously, he winds up the shichibukai’s prisoner. He never expected this outcome. How did it come to this? And is there any escape from this hell? AKA a dark re-telling of the events of Dressrosa and what came after.

Day 2: woven birdcage by via_the_cryptid - Rated T

Law doesn’t want to be caught. He knows what will happen if his pursuer catches up to him.

In the Hands of the Enemy by GrimoireReads - Rated T

Set after Doflamingo takes Law prisoner. Trafalgar Law was ready to die when he set foot on Dressrosa, but Doflamingo doesn’t make it any easier.

Frozen Heart by kitnjinx - Rated T

For as long as Law could remember, cold had followed him in one way or another. He had been running from Death for just as long, snapping and snarling back at a world that had only ever kicked him down. He always reasoned he would die the same way. Cold, angry, alone. Too bad there's so many people who keep having different ideas about his fate.

but were we ever really human? by Gali-La (Galileoleo), gendervapor - Rated T

There was hope. It wouldn’t end here. Fallen scrap and bolts tumbled from his arms as Law ran through the snow and permafrost, back to their hidden shelter. His frozen operating room. His second chance.

Again by Arrows4_Writes - Not Rated

At first, all he could see was white; all he could feel was the cold. It reminded him of home. It reminded him of Flevance. But he wasn't in Flevance. Flevance came with the sounds of screams and the smell of burning flesh. He wasn't sure what he was doing here. Or where "here" even was.

Law has a Nightmare of Minion Island/the day Cora died

Tradition by Sleeping_Songbird - Rated G

After celebration with the Hearts, Law indulges in his own birthday tradition

lifeblood (i'd bleed for you every time) by kermit_coded - Rated T

Day Two Alternate: Gunshot Wound(s)

you are never alone by asphyxiiated - Rated T

With trembling hands, Law opened the casket to reveal the body that gave him the world.

Grief, as a Knife. by rosiinantes - Rated T

Trafalgar D Water Law, and his intimate familiarity with grief. -- That's when grief had gutted him. The knife had moved suddenly and all at once. Taken everything that he could have left. Lami: gone. Father: gone. Mother: gone. Everyone he had ever known. His teachers. The friends he had at school. The lunchtime bully. All of them were dead.

Self-Destructive Tendencies by Talvituhkat - Rated T

"Your three lives are a bargaining chip. If I refuse, Trafalgar Law will take my life along yours. A threat from a man unwilling to bet on tomorrow is something that raises concern for my own life."

Torture at the hands of Kaido's henchmen has certainly taken its toll on Trafalgar Law. Stressful situations mean that dissent ensues, pushing the Surgeon of Death to his limits and leaving the Heart Pirates in charge of their captain's recovery... both in body and mind. ____ Takes place after Episode 951/Chapters 950 & 951.

#veryace asks #one piece fic recs #one piece #trafalgar law #trafalgar one piece #law one piece #angst #ao3 fic recs #fanfic recs #ao3

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hyperfixiation-station · 11 months

Text

Lighter Pt.2

Ask and ye shall receive :))

TW: Blood, death, angst

Part 1

Part 3

You feel a sense of disconnect, being able to see your own body. It had been that way since you slipped into a coma on the evac. Just you, your body, and the voices.

There are voices, almost uninterpretable, that call to you from beyond the veil. You do not hear the words they say, but you recognize them. They belong to your mother, to your best friend, to a fellow soldier, to all people who have died under your care. They want you to join them, but the voices are faint and do not sway you. Instead, you tether yourself to the man sitting by your bedside. For 12 short hours, he kept you tethered to the mortal plane. And then there was a tightness in your chest and the tether snapped.

It had been an interesting experience. In surgery, you had flatlined 3 times, but each time it felt like there was a tether holding you to your body, keeping you from following the voices. But later, in the ICU with Ghost by your side, you felt the tether disappear. There was a sudden tightness, the first sensation you’d felt since slipping into the coma, and then the tether just snapped. You felt yourself fading, the voices growing louder and louder and louder. Your body tingled and you stretched out a hand, reaching for the voices, wanting to end the discomfort and just go.

But then there was a spark, and you felt as though someone dumped a bucket of cold water over your skin. The voices faded, and you came back to yourself, tethered once more.

“Their heart gave out.” The doctors said, “The combined stress from blood loss and shock sent them into organ failure.” You had watched in sick fascination as you were placed on life support, a machine keeping your heart beating and lungs breathing. For the past 3 days you had sat with Ghost, watching your chest rise and fall and rise and fall in a rhythmic motion.

“Listen, Y/N. I’m not- I’m not big on…on words.” He shifted slightly, “but the doctor said talking is supposed to help you. I don’t bloody know how, but I said I would give it a try. I-” He paused, fidgeting with his gloves, “-I don’t-” He paused again, thinking, “-I’m sorry.” He finally managed to get out.

“About everything. You should never have been on the bloody mission, but when Price said we were working with another team, I jumped at the chance to work with you.” He paused, taking a steadying breath, “Which is stupid, considering I haven’t been able to say ‘I love you’ to your face.”

“And I’m sorry for that too. I’m sorry that I never say ‘I love you’, that I’m never affectionate in public, that I don’t compliment you like I should. I'm sorry that I’m such a fucking bastard all the time.” Now that he’s started talking, it's almost like he can’t stop. It feels like you are watching a train that you know is going to crash, and you can’t stop it, but you can’t look away either.

“I’m sor-” His breath catches, “I’m sorry that I wasn’t paying attention. I’m sorry that you got shot. I’m sorry, I…I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry. I swear, I swear, if you wake up, I will spend every waking moment making it up to you. I will do whatever you want just-” He pauses, hands trembling, “-just please wake up.”

“Please don’t.” You whisper, “Please don’t do this to yourself.” You wrap your spectral arms around him, nestling your chin on his head, trying to provide comfort that neither of you can feel.

He hasn’t left your bedside in 5 days, despite urging from Soap, Price, and even Gaz.

“I’m not leaving them alone. What if their heart gives out for good and I’m not there?” Had been his response every time someone tried to get him to leave. The doctors had only made his stubbornness worse.

“If they can’t breathe on their own, then there is no hope of recovery. We are going to take them off the ventilator tomorrow and put them on a cannula, but if their lungs can inflate on their own, we may have to pull the plug.” The doctor had told Ghost yesterday, face full of sympathy. So now you stood by your bedside, hand on Ghost's back, watching the nurses take you off the ventilator.

It is equal parts disgusting and fascinating, watching them pull the tube from your throat. Disgusting, because they were pulling a tube from your throat, and fascinating, because, well, there was a tube being pulled from your throat.

Almost immediately the tightness is back, squeezing like a vice. It is different this time. The world around you fades, and the voices come back, soft and inviting.

“Come home.” The whisper to you.

Breathe, c’mon you can do this

“We miss you.”

Please Y/N

The air is warm and comfortable, the scent of your childhood home filing the room.

Breathe please, I’m begging you dove

“Come ooooon Y/N!” The voice of your best friend echoes in your ears, drowning out the rest of the world. You reach for him, wanting to join, but something stops you.

BREATHE Y/N

“It's not your time.” Your teammate whispers to you, her hand pushing you back to safety, just like she did the night she died. There is one high-pitched, steady beep in the back of your mind.

Please, Y/N Please!

“Go back.” She says. She shoves you harder and suddenly you are back in the hospital. Ghost is crying, actually crying, and the nurses and doctors are frantically trying to get you to breathe. Your heart monitor is one long, steady line.

“Go back.” She says again to you. She shoves you one more time and everything goes dark.

#cod x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #cod fanfic #angst #cliffhangers mwhahahah #no beta we die like men #fanifc #angst fic

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kyber-kisses · 1 year

Text

Into Your Arms (Part 3)

Captain Rex x Jedi Reader

Summary: as you slowly begin to heal from your injuries, Rex continues to worry about you.

Warnings: descriptions of injuries, angst, worried!rex

A/N: funny story this is basically part of my Jedi!OCs background but I chose to make it into a reader fic. Anyways enjoy the final part!

Thirty six rotations. Thirty six rotations since Rex held your dying body in his arms. Thirty six rotations since you went unconscious.

Nineteen rotations since they took you out of the bacta tank. Nineteen rotations since he watched the medical team take you out of that awful tube.

Seventeen rotations since he watched in absolute horror as you began seizing, the medics surrounding you and making him fear the worse once again.

Thirty six rotations of not having you around.

The latest scare had been somewhat predictable to the medical team- that sometimes after prolonged exposure to bacta the persons body goes through withdrawal symptoms. Sometimes it was vomiting, other times it could be mental confusion- but it would seem you had gotten the short end of the stick and that was the explanation for the seizure.

But Rex hadn’t known that at the time. All he knew was that one minute he was standing in the med-bay talking to Kix about how your recovery was going and the next alarms were going off and people were yelling and you- you were-

“Hello? Cody to Rex-“ a gloved hand waved across Rexs vision, successfully pulling him from his thoughts as it did.

And with that the veil was lifted and the captain of the 501st found himself back in the almost empty mess hall of the Resolute. Only a few table lights remained on, the rest of the room having been plunged in darkness due to the time of the evening. Most of the ships occupants were on their way to bed by now—

Clearly Rex had been stuck in his own thoughts again.

“Vod, you were doing it again.”

Letting out a deep sigh, Rex rubbed at his temples, the cup of caf in front of him having gone cold ages ago. “How long?”

“Well I was calling your name for a good minute or two.” The clone commander spoke, lowering himself into the seat in front of his brother as he did.

The last few missions had been different to say the least. Without you to help lead troops the 212th had been called in to aid the 501st in the last several missions since your accident.

Rex was greatful for it, really he was. He could use the help, plus- it was nice to have Cody around. In truth he was one of the only things keeping him from going completely mad.

Without you around things felt different. Things ran different. Rex didn’t like different.

Yet here he was.

“Rex, you gotta refocus your energy. It’s doing neither her nor you any good if you keep retreating in on yourself. Focus on the upcoming missions. That’s what she would want you to do.”

In truth Rex knew his brother was right but he said nothing, instead focusing in on his cold cup of caf. He was a good soldier and he had been trying his damnedest to remain that way. He worked on battle plans and he focused during strategy meetings. . . But that didn’t mean you weren’t on his mind constantly. When he wasn’t planning for the next fight and he was alone with his thoughts they always went back to you.

He worried non-stop which resulted in endless visits to the medbay, and a handful of those visits were late in the night when he couldn’t find sleep due to worry and the only thing that calmed him was seeing you.

For those first two weeks you were in the bacta tank he would find himself alone in the medbay in the late hours of the night (which would drag into the earlier hours of the morning) seated on one of the wheeled stools, his knee restless as he bathed in the hazy blue glow of the tank, watching over you, despite the medical droid that still buzzed around. He was afraid if he left you would stop breathing, that something would happen and you would be ripped away to a place Rex could not follow.

And then you were taken out of the tank and transferred to a medical bed and all those nights spent separated by glass were gone. And when no one was around and the medics had all clocked out he held your hand. wether it was for your comfort or his own he didn’t know.

“She’s getting better each day. Kix has been telling me about her improvements.” Cody spoke again, his words earning a tired sigh from the captain.

“Yeah but she’s still unconscious.” Tiling his cup slightly, Rex watched as the cold contents within sloshed around. “It’s all my fault Cody. I should have been paying more attention on the battlefield. If I had she wouldn’t have had to jump in and save me. I’m the reason she almost died-“

“Woah, stop right there. None of this is your fault. It’s not anyone’s except the damn Seppies. You got that?” The slight shift in Codys voice made Rex look up at his brother, only to find his own eyes looking back at him.

Rex opened his mouth to respond but was cut short by the sound of a pair of feet running towards the mess hall, making both clones pick their heads up towards the door as a figure raced into view.

—————————

Death wasn’t like you imagined it. Ever since you were little and still trailing behind the robes of your master you had always thought death would feel like a warm embrace, like the feeling of curling up next to a fire after being out in the cold, or being given a hug after being alone.

But it felt like none of those.

If anything it felt the exact opposite.

It was cold. Not so much to the point where it was unbearable but to the point in which you felt like you had been submerged in a cool stream. The air smelled far too artificial as well and the only noise that could be heard was the rushing of water in your ears and the faint sound of some sort of rhythmic beeping.

And it was dark. So very dark. . . And lonely. If this is what waited everybody in the end then you felt horrible. If this was what it felt like to become one with the force in death then. . . The rest of the Order was going to be in for a rude awakening.

Though despite the cold and the dark there was something that did bring you comfort. It was almost as constant as the other things- though there were times where it was gone for what felt like forever.

You didn’t know what it was but you could feel it in the force when it appeared. It was like a faint glow, like a candle being lit in a darkened room. When it showed up it brought with it a sense of warmth, the type that could only remind you of being wrapped in pure sunlight. Whatever it was it kept you sane and it made you feel protected. . . Even if you were dead.

And then as just as sudden as it had all begun. . . It stopped.

One minute you were adrift in the dark expanse of death and nothingness and then like a slap to the face you were pulled into somewhere else entirely.

Suddenly your body was hurling forward in an upright motion and your lungs felt as if they hadn’t breathed real air in years. Your eyes flew open only to be met with harsh white lights and your ears were pelted with the sounds of beeping monitors and distant voices along with the heavy and steady hum of a ship.

If any words had left your lips they only came out as a sharp wheeze, lungs still grasping for fresh oxygen.

“Woah there, Commander! Calm yourself, everything’s alright.” A pair of reassuring hands went to your shoulders, gently guiding you back onto the bed you currently occupied, you resisted the best you could but your body felt like it weighed three times what it was supposed to.

And the aches? Kriff the aches currently running rampant through your entire body were not ideal either. The pain causing a deep groan to leave your lips as whoever was at your side readjusted your pillow for you.

“Wish I could give something for the pain, Commander, unfortunately for the next few hours I can’t put any more meds in your system.” A gloved hand took your wrist gently, fingers pressing down to check your pulse no doubt. “Other than the aches and pains how are you feeling?”

“Where am I?” Still squinting from the harsh white lighting, you turned your head slightly, pressing your cheek into the soft material of the pillow.

“Level 7 medbay of the Resolute. Gave us quite a scare there Commander.”

Medbay. That made sense. Nowhere else in the ship had lighting as awful as this. Sure enough as your eyes began to adjust you were able to identify where you were.

The medbay was unusually quiet and empty, save for a passing medical droid and two clone medics, one which was hovering over you as he continued to check vitals.

“Kix.”

The medic gave a soft smile. “The one and only commander. I’ve been taking care of you for the last month, no offense but you proved to be quite a handf—“

A sick feeling suddenly twisted in your gut as Kix spoke, and when he saw your eyes widen in confusion all other words on his lips fell silent.

“Month? Kix, what do you mean month? How long have I been out? What even happened to me?”

“Your guts got scrambled that’s what happened.” A second voice entered the conversation and as you looked up towards the doors to the mostly vacant medbay you watched as Anakin strode in, a soft smile on his lips as he did. “It’s good to see you awake my friend.”

“I wish i could say it feels good to be awake.” As you spoke you realized how hoarse your voice was, your throat dry as you let out a cough. Guess that was a side affect of not having said a word in over a month.

As Kix continued with his test, Anakin moved to your side, a glass of water in hand as he did. “Small sips, you hear me?”

“Yes sir.” Giving a mock salute you allowed him to lift the cup to your lips, your head still too heavy to raise it from the pillow.

Though you only caught the tail end of it over the lip of the glass, you watched as Kix and Anakin shared a look before the medic nodded and swiftly moved beyond your sight.

“Is everything alright?”

Lowering the cup, Anakin placed it on the table besides you. “Of course, why wouldn’t it be? Just happy to have you awake. Though full warning; Ahsoka will be showering you with get well cards and gifts when she finds out you’re up.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” You mused slightly, sending him a tired smile as you continued to fight the aches in your body.

“Well, we both know she can have way too much energy at times.”

Yeah, he wasn’t wrong there.

As a silence fell over you, you swallowed thickly, mind moving elsewhere. “Have I really been out as long as Kix said?”

“. . . Yeah. You got pretty banged up on Ryloth. Had you in a bacta tank for a couple weeks. There was discussion of transporting you back to Coruscant to recover at the temple but—“

“But what?”

Anakin was silent for a moment. “I spoke against it. I would match rather have you here under the care of medics I actually know and trust.”

In truth that wasn’t the main reason. Anakin knew that if he had sent you back to Coruscant, Rex would have become even more distant that he already was. Having you here at least allowed his captain to have a sense of peace being able to check on your condition.

Opening your mouth to spout some sarcastic comment you were stopped short by the sound of someone running down the hall towards the medbay. They were moving quick by the sound of it. . And at this time of night? Well it made you pick your head up from your pillow in curiosity.

And that little warm glow you had felt all those times before in your unconsciousness? It returned with the approaching footfalls.

A moment later you watched along with Anakin as a very out of breath and wide eyed clone practically slammed into the door frame, his arm going out to brace himself against it as he stumbled to a halt, chest heaving as his eyes found yours.

Never in all your life had you seen the captain of the 501st in such a state. He looked. . . Well he looked as if he was watching a ghost.

And with just one look at him everything came rushing back to you.

Ryloth.

The burning battlefield.

The Sepratist tank.

The explosion.

The twisted chunk of metal in your abdomen.

. . . And Rex. Rex. Your fierce blonde captain who you swore could have hung the stars themselves—

Kriff., know that you were thinking about it it You had said somethings. Some very, very emotional and true things.

You didn’t notice the way Kix and Anakin quietly slid from the room. All you could see was Rex and the worried yet surprised look on his face.

And something inside you broke. You could feel a difference in his force signature. He was worried and he was scared— and between it you could feel a sense of guilt that gnawed at him from within.

He was blaming himself for this.

Your eyes suddenly burned as tears gathered and a choked cry left your throat. Squeezing your eyes shut you let deep sobs rack your chest.

Across the room Rexs face fell and he was rushing across the polished floors in an instant, his gloves discarded from his hands as he placed a palm to your cheek. “What’s wrong? Are you in pain? Do I need to grab K-“

“I’m sorry-“ you gasped for a breath, eyes opening slightly as tears carved tracks down your face. “I’m sorry-“

“For what?”

“I scared you. I never meant to scare you. I only ever wanted to keep you safe.” You breathed, unable to stop yourself from leaning into Rex’s touch as he thumbed away your tears.

“You’re not supposed to do that. I’m a clone. I’m expendable.” Rex spoke the words plainly.

And At that your face shifted and the anguish and guilt on your face was replaced with confusion. With red eyes and tears stained cheeks you slowly grabbed Rexs wrist, removing his hand from your face.

“Don’t ever say that.”

“Commander-“

Sitting up as much as your body would allow you shoved him slightly. “Don’t ever say that again! You are not! You never have been! And none of your brothers are either!”

Rex was silent, turning his head to avert his gaze to the polished floors of the medbay. He had made you upset. He never wanted to do that.

“I love you, you know that? I know I said it that night on the battlefield but I need you to know it.” You breathed deeply, your voice cracking with emotion as and other wave of tears burned your eyes. At that Rex looked up, deep brown irises filled with surprise. “And you don’t have to say anything because I would never tell you that just to hear you say it back. I just need you to know that you are loved, and by no one more than me.”

To you it seemed in your eyes as if Rex had frozen, but in truth the second you had spoken those words Rex fucking melted. Because here you were, this beautiful, kind and fierce Jedi and you were looking at him in a way no one vet had before.

You had him wrapped around your finger without even realizing it.

Principally he had wanted to be mad at you. To yell at you and tell you to never do something so stupid again, but he couldn’t. Not now. Not ever.

Not when you were here in front of him. Alive. Breathing. Awake.

“I know you are my superior but I’m going to make a command and that is to never scare me in such a way ever again.” Though he tried to mask it, Rex heard his voice crack ever so slightly. “I can’t recall a time I had ever felt so scared in my life. I need you safe. I need you alive.” The last words left his lips in almost a whisper.

And then you watched as a single tear made it’s escape from one of Rexs deep brown eyes and everything in you melted into a puddle. Both your hands slowly and cautiously went to his face, giving him every opportunity to pull back, but the only thing he did was bring his eyes to yours as you thumbed away the tears before slowly pulling him down to rest his forehead against your own. You knew deep down that a part of Rex blamed himself for what had happened to you.

“Forgive me cyar'ika.” You spoke the words in almost a whisper, a message only him.

Thats when Rex did something you never expected. His palms cradled your head gently and and pulled you in to close the remaining gap between you in what was the most gentle and sweet kiss you had ever experienced in your life.

On the other end Rex swore he never felt so at peace in his life. You were safe and alive. . And you loved him. Kriff, he never even entertained that thought in his life that someone could love him, but here you were and he was kissing you and—

“Don’t go far from me.” Your words were like a ghost against his lips as you pulled back just enough to speak.

“I never left. I’ve been here all along.” Rex paused for a moment. “My whole life my duty has been to the Republic. . . But now I know, my duty is also to you.”

Trooper Taglist: @chubbyhedgehog @jordyn2424 @jamesdeerest @isybellaxox @book-of-baba-fett @idoubleswearimawriter @starrylothcat @stevesstevesstuff @amissingdish @hellhound5925 @rexxesgirl @loverofclones @bamfahsoka @kayleev-07 @staycalms-tobereadlist @arctrooper69 @tech-but-trans

#the bad batch #star wars #captain rex #captain rex x reader #rex x reader #star wars x reader #the clone wars #chevys writing

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agirlwithdemonblood · 3 months

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Through the Shadows: Chapter 19 - The Cost of Goodbye

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader

Series Summary: A hunter's Journey through despair and recovery is guided by Dean Winchester's unwavering love, leading her to reclaim her strength, voice and hope for their shared future.

Chapter Summary: Saying goodbye is hard, especially when nobody wants to say goodbye in the first place.

Warnings: Angst, anxiety, sadness.

Series Masterlist here!! & Main masterlist here!

The next morning, Dean and Sam awoke to the empty silence of the bunker, a unique comparison to the tension of the previous day. As they shuffled into the kitchen, they noticed the notes left on the table.

Dean's heart skipped a beat, a cold dread washing over him as he picked up the one with his name on it. Sam's brow furrowed as he grabbed his, eyes scanning the words with growing concern.

Dean's hands trembled as he read your message. The words blurred before his eyes as the realization hit-she was gone. The apology, the acknowledgment of breaking their promise, the final farewell-it all cut through him like a knife. This was her goodbye. This was him losing her.

Panic surged through him, and he grabbed his phone, dialing her number frantically. Each call went unasnwered, the silence on the other end increasing his heart race. He left message after message, his voice growing more desperate with each one.

"Please, just call me back. Talk to me. Let me know you're safe."

Sam tried calling as well, but there was no response. He looked at Dean, who was pacing the room, a wild look in his eyes.

"Dean," Sam began gently. "She probably just needs time. She'll come back when she's ready."

Dean turned on him, eyes blazing. "You don't get it Sam! I can't just sit here and wait. She's out there, alone, and it's my fault. My stupid drunk mouth."

Sam's frustration boiled over, "Some people are just too hard to love, Dean! She felt like she had to leave-"

Dean grabbed Sam by the collar, slamming him against the wall, his voice a low growl. "She's the easiest person in the world to love! You think it's her? It's me! I'm the one who's hard to love, not her!"

Sam's eyes softened, his own anger dissipating as he saw the anguish in his brother's eyes. "Dean, let her go. When she's ready to come back, she will. That's all you can do."

Dean released Sam, his shoulders sagging as the fight drained out of him. He sank onto a chair, burying his face in his hands. "I just want her to be okay, Sam. I don't know what to do."

That night, Dean found himself drawn to her room. He stepped inside, the familiar scent and the scattered remains of her presence bringing a lump to his throat. He lay down on her bed, clutching her pillow, the weight of his grief pressing down on him. All he wanted most in this world was to see her again, to hold her and tell her he was sorry.

Miles away, she found herself in a small town she came from, before she moved with Dean and Sam. The familiarity was both comforting and suffocating as she rented a room at a rundown motel, the musty smell and peeling wallpaper a far cry from the comfort of the bunker.

She sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the empty walls, feeling the crushing weight of her isolation.

Her phone vibrated incessantly with Dean's missed calls and messages, but she couldn't bring herself to answer. Each pin felt like a dagger, the pain of her choice echoing through her. She turned off her phone, tossing it aside and curled up under the thin blanket, determined to sever the ties that bound her to Sam and especially Dean.

For their sake, she told herself, they were better off without her. But as she lay in the cold, unfamiliar room, tears slipped down her cheeks, she couldn't shake the feeling that she had left a piece of her heart behind in the bunker, with the man who had come to mean everything to her.

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #dean x reader #supernatural one shot #dean #spn fic #jensen's smile #deanwinchester #spns #supernaturalseries #supernatural season 5

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bracketsoffear · 1 year

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Victor Fries/Mr. Freeze (Batman) "Nora Fries, wife of Victor, contracted a rare disease, of which there was no cure. Victor, wanting to save his wife, put her in cryo-stasis. Unfortunately, Victor' boss Ferris Boyle tried to pull the plug on Nora and knocked Victor into some chemicals. Victor is now literally cold-blooded, forcing him to stay in a special suit because even room temperature environments can kill him. He tried to take revenge on Boyle, but after Batman foiled him, his primary motivation for crime is to save Nora from her fate. Sadly, every instance where he finally gains the means to revive and cure Nora ends badly for him, and only rarely goes well for Nora, if even that; for example, the DCAU sees Nora successfully cured, but she moves on without her husband, who instead decides to take his pain out on the world when he loses his entire body. On his worst days he falls headlong into selfish destruction, either robbing people blind to fund his research/planning to use them as test subjects because the recovery of his wife justifies anything he does to achieve it, or destroying people's lives and making them miserable because if he can't be happy, no one can be happy. Even his most sympathetic portrayals frequently note an element of selfish delusion to his situation- a belief that by reviving her, all of his actions will have been justified and his suffering will end."

Slugpelt (Pinepaw and the Forgotten World) "she is lonely--her mother was cruel, favoring her brother rainhaze whilst treating her like shit, and the group where she lives is very isolated. also her boyfriend left her to raise her kids alone

she spreads loneliness--while she is less of an antagonist and more of a tragic hero in her own right (and she's at least trying to get better), she does somewhat pass her loneliness down to her kids, being... rather neglectful and barely connecting with them (generational cycles of abuse are somewhat of a. theme in patfw). the comic's author, Raz, is also a big tma fan and has explicitly described her as Lonely-aligned."

#lonely poll #the magnus archives #the lonely #poll #batman #dc comics #pinepaw and the forgotten world #pinepaw

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bp4545 · 11 months

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Our Happy Ending (Deadline pt3. Angst to Fluff)

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: Swearing? Just forgiving past relationships and recovery. Angst, jealousy, insecurities. (PLEASE READ PART ONE AND TWO BEFORE THIS!! THEY ARE IMPORTANT TO THE STORYLINE OF THIS, AND THEY ARE ALL ANGSTY, BUT TOTALLY WORTH IT <3)

Summary: After Theo ended things with you, it was hard to face life again. Loneliness consumes you as you realise that there are no such things as happy endings. Theo has already moved on, but the question is, have you?

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3.

---

It had been just about two weeks since Theo had broken your heart. Left you crying, drowning in remorse, kneeling by the astronomy tower, for the second time.

What was worse than going through heartbreak? Going through the same heartbreak twice.

You'd skipped most of the classes you had those two weeks, at least any that either Draco or Theo were in. You couldn't face them. Not in this state, where everything felt so empty, hollow, like someone had scraped out every piece of love in your heart and placed the empty shell back into your chest.

It was dull. Life had never seemed so grey, to the point where you would cry yourself to sleep, hugging your pillows, pretending that someone, anyone, was there.

You hated it, you wished you were stronger. Wished you could show people that nothing could hurt you, nothing could break you. But love has it's ways.

As you sit at the (your house) common rooms, you contemplate on your next step.

What do you feel? You still love Draco, but you knew he deserved someone much better than you, someone who knew exactly how they felt, someone who would hold a strong relationship for him and give him the world, just like he did for you. He deserved so much more than what you could offer.

But maybe the next step wasn't to jump back into love, after all, it's never ended well for you. Maybe it was time you started to work on yourself. Treat yourself. Show the world that you were strong, that you could get back up again after the fall.

---

So that's exactly what you did.

The next week and you felt so different. So alive.

You were glowing.

As if you had found something long lost, dug yourself out of a deep hole.

The door creaks as you walk into your potions classroom. Hair tied, not let down, glasses on, contacts out, smile proud, frown gone. You looked like your second year self, and you loved it.

It reminded you of those simpler times, where relationships didn't matter, only school and friends.

Eyes darted your way, surprised to see you after two weeks, and you seem so different, maybe not just how you look, but the aura around you.

You make eye contact with your friends, not sparing anyone else a second glance. They smile at you and make space at the table, while their smiles seem happy, they are still worried about you and where you've been.

You don't have to look around to know that people are staring at you, but you don't mind it at all. You feel safe, at ease.

That's until a familiar head of brown hair walks through the door, the same one that broke your heart just a few weeks ago. Your mind was set to panic, as you see Theo, but what hurts more is he's not alone.

There's a blonde girl, she's beautiful, hanging off his arm like they've been in love forever.

He makes eye contact with you, cold gaze, no emotion, but you feel tears prick your eyes as memories come flooding back from that night. You weren't upset that he broke up with you, you were upset about how he made you feel that night. So alone, helpless.

Little did you know, there was a pair of eyes boring into the back of your head. A pair of blue eyes, watching the interaction, making sure you were okay.

Draco.

He never stopped thinking about you. Not ever, since the night you two had broken up. He didn't want to stop thinking about you, it was like everything he ever loved was taken away from him when he lost you.

You were his love. There was no replacement, not when he gave everything to love you. You were everything that Draco was taught to hate, you weren't in Slytherin, you weren't wealthy, you weren't a pureblood, and yet, Draco still fell for you. He fell for your smile, your carefree eyes, you calm scent, your warm embrace. He grew to love everything about you, you changed him so much, and for so long, he thought that you were his happy ending.

Draco was forced out of his thoughts when he heard a chair abruptly scrape against the wooden floor. He looked in front of him to see his love run out of the classroom and burst into tears.

It tore him. To see you like this, knowing that if he never left you, none of this would've happened.

He didn't know why he did it, why he broke up with you in the first place. Even though you were clearly falling for someone else, Draco never expected that he would actually break your heart, he always thought you would be the one to break his. Maybe he just did it because he wanted to prove to himself and you that he was capable of living without you by his side. But, oh, was he wrong.

He didn't know why he did it.

But his feet took him where his heart wanted. And he found himself leaving the classroom to look for you, scared that he might see something that would break him.

But there you were, knees to you chest, and face low, body shaking as you cried to yourself.

You thought you were ready, ready to face the world again. But you thought wrong.

It hurt.

But it hurt less as you felt a warm embrace envelop your small body. Part of you hoped it was Theo, running back to you to apologise, but more of you knew that it was Draco. Because you knew that boy inside and out, and you knew his touch, his breathing, his cologne, his tall, towering body.

There are no words exchanged.

Yet the silence is so comforting, like something you've been missing for so long.

You look up, face hot and tear stained, but you don't care, neither does Draco. Its been so long since he's looked you in the eyes, been this close to you. He missed it, and he missed holding you like you were his everything.

Draco looks into your eyes softly, and hold his gaze for a few seconds, leaning into you.

The two of you share a short sweet kiss, igniting a fire that long ago burned out. The kiss is soft, but it holds so many feelings, and a hint of desperation. Being away from him for so long was damaging, and you didn't realise how much you needed him until he was gone.

"What was that for" you whispered, as you broke the kiss. He smiled and held your hand lovingly.

"My love, that was for our happy ending"

---

a/n: sorry this part took so long to be published, I was really unhappy with how I wrote it for so long, and tbh it's still bothering me because I don't like how I ended it. This will definitely be the last part of this series, so I hope you enjoyed all the parts:)

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telleroftime · 3 months

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Very niche idea very much Purple Hearts inspired buuuut-

Rich, sick Reader that has no family left with a crap ton of inheritance and an estimated one year left to live, and Ino Takuma who's been living paycheck to paycheck with debt on his shoulders because he wants to live life his own way and on his own terms.

In other words, "I can't handle it alone" Reader x "I can handle it, don't worry" Takuma.

He finds them through a job offer. Marriage of convenience. He thinks it's far too good with the weekly paycheck and all, lasting one year with no visible downsides and a divorce at the end of the year-long agreement. It's all too perfect and he knows it.

But, with a set of particularly nasty debt collectors / loan sharks demanding money, Takuma takes the job. The marriage is quick, sponsored by a similarly-aged Reader. And now it's just a matter of getting along. And they do, sort of.

Takuma doesn't see Reader often at first. They're closed off, simply sending him the money at the end of each week. Texts are straight to the point and the phonecalls are short with the Reader hanging up early. They go on a few 'dates' at his request and he tries to learn as much as he can about the Reader during it, but other than that it's quiet until the first phonecall he receives from a hospital informing him of Reader being taken there.

He visits instantly, sees them and talks to them, and the story progresses from there though it's not exactly smooth.

They're opossites. Takuma is warm, happy even in stressful situations. Cool and endearing. Reader is tired, cold though they don't intend for it. Where Takuma is brimming with life, Reader is wilting.

The one thing both of them have in common is the fact that they are awkward. Very awkward.

Blushing awkward messes that suck at relationships. Anyways-

Reader doesn't have much to live for though when Takuma finds out about that he refuses to let that remain the case. He tries to make them happier. He shows them things from his day to day life. He tries to get them to smile, to laugh. He takes leave from his other jobs when Reader is brought into hospitals just to spend time with them.

And you know what, it helps. That goal- that happy ending pushes Reader towards recovery. They get better! Live longer than a year and heal.

And then they get a happy ever after.

Alternatively the job makes him a stay at home husband taking care of Reader.

Based on the fact that partners and finances don't count as family when visiting people in Japanese hospitals so apparently they're never properly informed of things.

#ino takuma #toonce ideas #takuma x reader #ino takuma x reader #cause I don't remember which tag I was using #kinda rushed ending to the post but bare with me #i also have an idea vaguely inspired by Scent of a Woman #though mainly the “hired to take care of a blind person” setting #though it could be either for Takuma or Toji #technically both could work woth distinctly different vibes #i might come up with some blurbs in the morning for both of them #cause hahaha it's 22°C with what feels like too high humidity at 02:20 #i will actually melt

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fizzyxcustard · 1 year

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Covert Eyes (21)

Masterlist of fan fiction

Fandom: Spooks

Pairings: Lucas North x OC (Amy Holland)

Warnings: Stalking behaviour, anxiety, language, sexual references, angst, smut, heartbreak, gunshot wounds and recovery, abduction, hostage situation.

Summary: Lucas takes notice of a young woman, Amy, but his obsession and want to get to know her begin to spiral out of control. Amy is now working for MI-5, after being recruited by Ros. But will her involvement with Lucas cause even more problems and heartbreak?

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The first day back was quiet, slow and fairly uneventful. Amy remained with Tariq, scouring CCTV footage from a new case that had landed on the main desk of section D. Lucas was in a three hour meeting with Ros, Jo and Harry, discussing the Robert Spiller case.

“Lunch time in a bit,” Amy said, swivelling on her chair, in her usual child-like manner.

“You are obsessed with food,” Tariq chuckled. “Are you sure Lucas feeds you enough at home?”

“I know my priorities, and food is one of them.” With that, Amy opened the top drawer of her desk and pulled out a Mars bar from a multi pack. “Want one?”

Tariq chuckled again. “Go on, then. I was supposed to be starting back at the gym tonight. Looks like I’ll have to forego another day.”

“Come on, one chocolate bar won’t hurt you.”

Once Lucas’ meeting was finished, he dashed out of the room and over to Amy’s desk. He perched on the table next to her, looking down as she smiled up at him from her chair. His heart filled with so much love for her, that he knew he’d never felt anything like this before. Whenever her large, green eyes focused on him, he found himself dissociating from the world around him. He reached out and took her hand, holding it for a few seconds, his thumb rubbing over her knuckles. Then his thumb grazed her engagement ring.

“I’m going to be home late tonight,” Lucas said. “I’ve got a fair bit to do on Spiller, and Harry’s asked me to brief the Midlands team who are going out tonight on surveillance. Will you be okay going home on your own?”

“Of course I will. I’m a big girl, after all.”

Lucas sighed. “Aim, I just worry, that’s all.”

“Come on, let’s go and grab something to eat. I think I’ve driven Tariq mad keep talking about food.”

“You’ve got that right!” Tariq’s playful voice came from across the room as he walked away, ready to make another mug of coffee.

***

Amy left the office around 5:15pm that evening with Tariq and Ruth. All three of them ventured out into the cold air, pulling their scarves and gloves on tighter. They separated, going in different directions. Amy continued on towards Lambeth Bridge, crossing over it, weaving between fellow commuters and tourists. The sky was pitch black and littered with silver stars, as if someone had thrown glitter against a silk backdrop.

Amy took her phone from her pocket and saw a new message from Lucas.

Be safe. I love you. Xxx

Whenever he said or wrote those words ‘I love you’, Amy still felt a slight pang of disbelief amongst her excitement. Thankfully, that voice which had always boldly told her she would never be enough, was gradually turning into a whisper.

She looked out across the river at the London Eye, watching the colours change. One day she would come out early, grab a coffee, and sit down at the riverside and draw it; she’d already planned it all in her mind. Maybe even draw Big Ben and Parliament. Amy had always liked coming out into London when it was early and few people were yet roaming the street. She felt comfortable and safe, being more alone and less likely to be disturbed.

***

Lucas took the underground back to his and Amy’s flat. For the duration of the journey, Lucas flicked through photos of himself and Amy. A few of them were from New Year up in Coventry, with Amy’s brother in law and nephew photobombing in the background of one, and in another, Amy’s dad had been caught to the side, his eyes closed and his mouth puckered, just ready to take a sip of beer: not the most flattering of poses. His favourite was still a photo of them snuggled up on the sofa together, Amy with her head on his shoulder, grinning childishly. They’d only been together two months or so when he took this photo, and already they both looked happy.

It was around seven weeks away from their one year anniversary, and Lucas had begun thinking of gift ideas. He had already brought her jewellery for Christmas. And Amy’s birthday was also approaching, being the last day of January. Lucas had been taking mental notes of items Amy had mentioned, like a pair of tartan Converse she been eyeing on their last shopping trip. Then there was Valentine’s Day! It was all coming together in one swoop. However, Amy’s training was due to start the second week of February, so Valentine’s and their anniversary would need to be celebrated over their available weekends.

It had been strange that she had not text him that evening since leaving Thames House. Normally if one of them was in the office and the other at home, they would text back and forth. Their texts were usually about what meals were planned for dinner and what film they would be watching, with some playful banter in between.

Upon the walk from the underground station to their street, Lucas checked his phone. No new messages.

Maybe she had been tired and went for a nap ahead of him returning home. Possibly? But doubtful. It was rare, if not completely out of character, for Amy to not text him while they were apart.

As Lucas turned his key in the lock and opened the door to the flat, he was surprised to see that no lights were on. Normally if Lucas returned and Amy was already there, she would leave a lamp on in the hallway, which cast a faint light through into the kitchen and dining area.

Immediately he sensed that something was amiss. It was just past eleven at night, so Amy was probably in bed, either reading, scrolling on her phone, or sleeping.

Lucas went to the bedroom. Dark and empty.

He called her name and stepped into the bathroom. Nothing.

Lucas took his phone from his pocket and found Amy’s number and called.

“The person you are calling is not available…”

Lucas growled and then called Harry.

“Lucas? Is everything alright?” Harry Pearce’s professional yet concerned voice came.

“Have you requested Amy go back in?”

“No, why?”

“She’s not at home. All the lights were off and she hasn’t told me she’s going anywhere, which isn’t like her.”

“Maybe she’s met up with a friend. There are many reasons she might not be home. Try not to worry.”

“Thanks, Harry,” Lucas said, sighing in frustration. He knew her. Amy would never have left the flat without leaving the lamp on, and certainly would never have disappeared so late and not told him. Even if she had bumped into a friend on the way home, for instance, she would have still text Lucas to let him know she would be late returning home.

The only other person who Lucas could think of who might have seen her was Debbie from her old work place. But Lucas didn’t have her number to contact. For a minute, he sat down on the bed, on Amy’s side and looked at her bedside table. Her current reading book, an empty mug, a Tinkerbell figurine, a black Moleskine journal for her doodles.

Of course no one would believe him at this point that Amy was missing; no one knew her patterns like him. He picked up her purple pyjama bottoms and felt dread fill him to the core. Something was definitely wrong. Even if no one could yet see it.

“Where are you, angel?” he whispered. “Tell me where you are.”

By the time it had turned midnight, Lucas knew with absolute certainty that Amy was missing. He grabbed his Belstaff jacket from the hallway, and picked up his keys off the small table next to the letter rack. At the front was an electricity bill that had come that morning. Lucas eyed their names: Miss. A. Holland and Mr. L. North. She’d been so happy when their first joint mail had come, giggling happily.

“One day, not too far away, and it’ll say Mrs. A North.” Something so simple had made her so ecstatic. It was in those moments, when something so simple made her smile, that Lucas fell even more deeply in love with her.

Back on the Grid, Lucas logged on to one of the computers. Only one or two people flitted past him, disappearing down corridors, until a familiar face appeared from around the edge of one of the computers.

“Malcolm?” Lucas exclaimed.

“You’re in late.” The middle aged man was shocked to see Lucas in the office so late of a night. “Are you back for the Spiller case.”

“I think Amy’s missing,” Lucas told him. “She never came home tonight. I got back and the flat was empty and there were no lights on. She always leaves the lamp on in the hallway when I get in after her.”

“Maybe she forgot…”

“Malcolm, I know her. I live with her. She hasn’t text me all evening, which is unlike her. We constantly text. Can you run all recent footage in the area and track her phone?”

Malcolm started by opening Amy’s employee record. Her photo filled the screen, and as it did, Lucas smiled sadly. The memory of her lying unconscious in hospital surfaced. His beautiful Amy. His wife-to-be. The future Mrs. Lucas North.

“What’s her mobile number?”

Lucas reeled off her number by memory, and Malcolm entered the number into the tracking programme, whilst he run her photo against all CCTV in London. Amy’s photo remained locked on the monitor in the left hand corner as random faces appeared and disappeared, within milliseconds, hundreds of faces being analysed.

“Her phone was last monitored by a local cell tower at 5:32pm. Coordinates show that she was at South Bank…”

“Heading for the train home,” Lucas interrupted. “That must have been when I sent her my last text message.”

“Her phone has no reception and hasn’t been used since, not even on the Wi-Fi.”

Terror racked through Lucas and he eyed the faces which were still flipping, none of them staying on screen for longer than a quarter of a second. A blur of eyes, noses, skin colours and hairstyles. “Come on, angel,” he whispered. “Come on! Give us something.”

A match appeared on the screen; a scene of Amy walking past a pub enlarged on the screen. An address appeared and the coordinate of the building. “South facing camera from the front door of The King’s Head…”

The rest of Malcolm’s words seemed to dissolve away as Lucas began writing down the address of the pub from the screen. “What time was this?”

“5:40.”

“Just before she got to the underground station. Did your search then include all the underground lines?”

“Yes.”

“So she didn’t get on a train because she would’ve been picked up on the cameras. Can you check all the vehicles parked in that street and also within a half mile radius, see if anything stands out? And…” Lucas’ voice broke and he hung his head, resting back on the desk behind him.

“We’ll find her,” Malcolm reassured.

All Lucas could see in his mind was Amy in his arms, and blood staining his hands and shirt. He could hear her whimpers as he held her, waiting for the ambulance to arrive. There was no way he could let that happen again. It was his duty to protect her, first and foremost. Fuck everyone else. Only Amy mattered.

“This has got to be connected with Sarah. Why else would anyone target her?” Lucas asked, tears beginning to well in his eyes. Even in death and the bitch wouldn’t leave him alone.

An hour later and Harry and Ros had arrived, both with a coffee in hand to attempt to wake them. Harry immediately approached Malcolm, who was sifting through all the vehicle registrations that had been in the vicinity of where Amy was last seen.

Meanwhile, Lucas was sat at Amy’s desk.

“Is he absolutely sure Amy is missing?” Harry enquired, whispering to Malcolm. “Could he be jumping the gun on this one?”

Malcolm sighed. “I wouldn’t have called you in, Harry, if I didn’t feel there was something wrong. Amy was last seen here,” and with that, Malcolm pointed to a map on the screen. “CCTV footage caught her walking past The King’s Head, approaching the underground station. Then she went out of shot. None of the underground cameras saw her. She must have disappeared in that street.”

Ros stood next to Lucas, remaining silent. She felt sadness at the sight of him with his head held low. Next to the time when Amy had been shot, Ros had never encountered Lucas looking so beaten down.

“I’m not going to say it, Ros, but you know I’m thinking it,” Lucas sighed.

“I know you all too well by now, Lucas. Of course you’re thinking it. And you still blame me for recruiting her.”

Lucas stared at Amy’s empty Winnie the Pooh mug on the desk and felt as if his whole chest were compressing, about to implode.

“You shouldn’t be here. We’ll take this from here. Go home.”

Lucas looked up at Ros, his ice blue eyes full of turmoil. “How can I go home? I need to find her.”

Harry walked over. “Ros is right. You can’t be working on this. You’re far too close to her.”

“And that’s exactly the reason I should be working on this. I knew as soon as I got home that something was wrong. I know her behaviour, her ways. You need me to be on this. You barely know her yet.”

“Lucas…” Harry began sternly.

“No, Harry! She’s almost died once because of me, and now I know in my gut that this is connected to Sarah again. I’ve pulled her too far into my life, and it’s constantly putting hers at stake. I should never have got involved with her. I shouldn’t have ever spoken to her in the café and just ignored that want to get to know her…” Tears fell down Lucas’ cheeks in quick procession, and he put his hands to his face, weeping behind them.

***

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