It wasn’t his sweet smile or his confident posture. It wasn’t his irresitible laughter or his calming voice. It was his beautiful eyes and the way he looked at me, the way he stared at me, the way he made me feel.
One of the things I love about MacCready’s romance is that while at max affinity he can’t stop gushing over you and making romantic prose over how he loves/cares for you, I like thinking that it’s the opposite while the relationship grows, showcasing growing affection and care for the sole survivor with his actions.
- He’s always going to take the first watch. He’s not going to wake you up for second, claiming in the morning he just “wasn’t tired”.
- He won’t care how mad you about get about not waking you up, he’s going to do the same thing the next night. And the next night, and the next night …
- Even when the both of you can sleep soundly behind closed, locked doors, he waits until your breathing’s evened out before he even considers closing his own eyes.
- Always takes point when wandering in the open, makes sure you are hustled into cover before he settles in beside you. Occasionally a protective arm will wrap around you if the moment seems dire.
- Doesn’t hesitate to hold you back from entering the Memory Pod, the Teleporter, any inkling of danger. When you ask what’s wrong he’ll get flustered, not able to voice his concern, knowing he can’t stop you but wanting you to know he’s worried … even if he can’t say it.
- Always keeping stock on your ammo, counts the bullets you expend and makes sure to toss just the right amount your way at just the right moment.
- Might complain about carrying your junk but will secretly stash that extra box of Fancy Lads or fifteenth roll of duct tape when you’re not looking.
- Let’s you handle your own in conversations but makes sure to stand slightly behind you, rifle at the ready, just in case … just so they know who’s in your corner. He’ll throw a snark at them if they ask for it.
There’s so many other little things I think he does to showcase this, but I think at heart MacCready is a man of actions. His words are a close second, mixing well once you’ve earned his trust, but MacCready of all people knows simply stating “It’ll be a cold day in hell before I let something bad happen to you” won’t protect you from the Commonwealth.
Your death hit everyone hard, but no one took it harder than Dick. When the hideout exploded with you inside, he screamed. He screamed like every bone in his body broke. It took everyone to stop him from running there into the destruction. It pained them, but they knew you wouldn’t want them to get hurt, especially Dick.
Searching for your body was difficult, but what was even more heartbreaking was that Dick was the one who found it. He recognized you immediately, even when there wasn’t much of you to identify with. His lips wobbled as his knees buckled and he fell beside your body. He shook as grief overtook him.
He should’ve been there. He should’ve saved you. It should’ve been him, not you. He had lost his parents, and he had prayed to every God he knew not to take someone else away, especially not you.
But the Gods never heard his prayers, and they ripped you from his arms too.
They never told him fate was as cruel as this.
The sky was clear and sunny, there was not a cloud above. Dick hated it, it was your funeral, the sky should be dark and gloomy. There should be growls of thunder from the distance as the darkening clouds threaten to rain hell upon them, but instead, they got sunshine and rainbows, with birds chirping joyously in the background.
The ceremony was small and private. There were only a few people that attended, and it made him sad. You were an amazing person who always brought light and happiness into people’s life, at least into his life. There should be more.
Even when everyone left, he stayed and stared at the grave. Walking away meant finally letting you go, and he wasn’t ready to do that. He wasn’t going to let you go, ever.
They never told him of a tragedy like this.
Days strung past, slowly, unbearably. Your presence was woven into the manor, where Dick was staying for the time being. They didn’t allow him to go on patrol, not until he got himself together, something he thought would be impossible.
You haunted him, surely you did. How else could he explain your laughter etched in his mind, your smile in rooms you were often found in and your touch whenever he felt alone. It was similar to when he had lost his parents, but back then he had you, who understood him and held him up, just as he did with you.
They never told him he would be as weak as this.
Dick found himself holding onto a piece of you constantly–an item you owned, a photo, even your old school assignments you left around the manor. He held onto anything he could. Some may see it was sad and pathetic, but he didn’t care. He was a mess.
You would be disappointed, that’s for sure. He could bet his life that you were frowning down upon him from above, in the realm of angels and saints, where a precious, pure soul like yours belonged.
They never told him friends left like this.
It was strange; you never know what you want until it’s finally lost. Dick felt that way towards you, for he never knew how much he actually needed you until you were gone. It wasn’t just your comforting word and your smile either, it was your… love. He desired your love, something which he never noticed before, not until it was taken from him.
His heart was desperate for you. It thrashed around in his chest, crying and screaming for the woman who stayed by his side through thick and thin, and no matter what, always returned to him.
They never told him regret feels like this.
He realized how blind he was. At first he was confused and shocked, but now he knew why; he was in love with you, he still is, and he didn’t know how long those feelings would stay. He doubt they would ever go away.
He didn’t know how such a feeling slipped from his mind. He vaguely recalled a time when things were different, when you were still the orphan Bruce took in, and his heart did flips. You had him smitten from the very first day, but he held the feelings inside of him for so long it seemed as if it was normal, for he didn’t believe they were returned.
That was why he never noticed them, because he convinced himself that being your best friend, no matter how painful it was, was enough.
It wasn’t enough, but it was too late for that now.
They never told him the worst part of this.
“Hey.” Dick whispered, sitting in front of your grave. He visited as much as he could, but recently he had been visiting less because he finally got his act together and went out there again. Bludhaven needed him and no matter how crushed he felt, he had a job to do and he was going to do it right.
“Sorry I haven’t visited in awhile, I’ve been busy.” He apologized, feeling a pang in his heart at the silence that followed. He continued, “I… I broke up with Babs, I don’t think I could stand being in the relationship any longer, not when–” he swallowed thickly, trying to will himself not to cry, “not when I don’t love her.”
He could imagine your look; your gorgeous eyes wide and curious as you demanded who stole his heart this time. You would’ve laughed if he said it had been stolen all along, and he could only imagine your blushing face when he would tell you that you were the one who stole it.
The scenario played itself over and over again in his head, finally causing those tears to fall because he knew it was never going to occur.
“Y-You know… I never got to tell you this but I’ll tell you now.” Dick confessed in a broken voice. “I love you. I love you so much [F/N]… I-I’m sorry I didn’t realize it before, I’m sorry–” he choked on his words, “please come back. You do-don’t have to forgive me, but please come back.”
He leaned forward, resting his head against the tombstone. His sobs were too loud in the silent cemetery. “I miss you… I want to see you ag-again. I-I want to see your smile, and hear your voice, and-and feel you hug me just-just–” he wiped his tears but they kept flowing, “just please. I miss you, I need you.”
They never told him love was going to be like this.
I’ve seen some random Tamlin things floating around my dash the last few days and I just want to say…
Yeah, people deserve second chances. (And sometimes third chances, tbh.)
Yeah, he may have suffered a sense of powerlessness, he obviously had difficulty controlling himself even in ACOTAR with his talons popping out every time he got upset.
Yeah he was facing the downfall of his court and a life of servitude to Amarantha.
But… those things + loving Feyre don’t make what he did ok? I’m not sure what is with the intense desire to defend him. He fucked up. It’s pretty clear. And loving someone is never an excuse for that. Nor is mental illness. We still have to be held accountable for our actions.