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indiegame · 3 months ago
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woof woof what a week
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timmydraker · 25 days ago
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When Tim is seven, they have a parent career day at his school. The point of the project is to showcase to other classmates, staff and the parents and families that visit what their parent or parents do for a living.
A lot of the students have businesmen for dads and stay at home mums, as typical for the high class, but not all of them do. Some are CEO’s, some own a unique company or business, or got their wealth from sports or entertainment.
For Tim, his parents have two very unique jobs even if they are technically from generational wealth, that being Drake Industries that creates medical supplies as well as funds vehicles like ambulances and fire trucks. Stuff that looks great on paper and gets them support even if the two care little for it and more for their second form of income.
Janet was more into the archeology that showed history in culture and progression of society, story telling and proof of civilisations, while Jack was far more fond of the animals that existed or still do and how they have changed.
So naturally, Tim excitedly chose to talk about their extensive work in the latter.
Janet had single handedly proved several historical theories true and false, her unrelenting determination to proving she was right and using her connections and charming nature to do so.
Jack had discovered a whole new dinosaur that he named after his wife, as well as being one of the loudest in discussion of such beings and their feathers.
Tim found he enjoyed his mother’s work most, as cool as dinosaurs were, because his mother had taught him about how ropes and cogs were once all the ‘technology’ anyone had.
So, Tim Drake set about showcasing his mums hard work and after being denied brining a rare pot she had found, he decided to make a copy of it out of clay in the schools art room. The teacher helped him with dry hands and a kind smile, excited on his behalf as he so clearly enjoyed the process and seeing how else clay crafts were used.
Tim stood proudly at his table, several paragraphs written out and printed out for people to read about his parents achievements and a diagram of the skeletal structure his father had discovered not long after Tim was born. Many people praised him, saying how well he did for such a young age, only to be even more awed when he explained he made the pot himself and it wasn’t the real deal, but a replica.
It depicted Aphrodite as she stood over roses, at the time white but some clearly darkening as the thrown cut her foot, while she made her way over to a figure that was known to be Adonis as he laid dying from a boar beside him. It looked very simpler to real Greek art, though of course a little wonky and with less dirt and ancient clay, but the pottery was exceptional by a child’s hand. Hell, even a teenager.
Tim was so very happy, waiting patiently for his parents to come and see what he had done, how he had shown everyone in his school how cool and clever they were and even made some of the olde kris look at him with jealousy, but…
They never came.
Not because they were hurt or sick or worse, dead, but because they were too tired from their trip they had gotten back from a week ago.
But Tim was a Drake, he wouldn’t show his growing anxiety and fear, instead he stood tall and spoke animatedly too anyone who would listen and avoided questions on where Janet and Jack were just like they had taught him to when pushed for sensitive information.
Tim took the pot home and Janet smiled at him, telling him it was ‘nice’.
She didn’t point out the errors or anything, said nothing bad and had no disgusted expression, she just… called it nice. And moved on.
Seven year old Tim smashed the pot against his bed room wall and cried his eyes out until he fell asleep.
When he woke up he came to a conclusion: he simply hadn’t done a good enough job and if he was more accurate, had less bumps and used more polish, he’d get a better reaction.
So that’s what he did.
The second pot got a confused brow furrow and he was asked why he was showing it again, after all they were busy people and they had already seen it?
Tim made a different one and got a similar answer to the first, though Jack did give him a pat on the head!
Tim decided to make a few, perfect his craft more, until he showed them more so he could truely wow them.
Yet a funny thing happened while he made his replica pots and bowls.
He started to have fun.
Soon it became known to the staff at his school that if you couldn’t find Timothy, he wasn’t flagging school, he was in the art room. Given he had such good grades and had plenty of friends, none of them had a problem with this as it wasn’t affecting him badly.
Tim made a mug for his art teacher that was shaped to look like a tree stump and asked for help to paint it from his friend Ives whose mother was an artist, who got tips from his mum and taught his friend how to shade and paint on canvas first.
As thanks, Tim made Ives a little clay mushroom charm that the other boy made into a bracelet.
Eventually Tim is having so much fun with his crafting he’s even having to buy creams and ointments so his hands don’t get so cracked and cry. He has a whole draw for his art clothes lest he get too many dirtied, as well as a shelf in the art room for his creations.
By the time he’s nine he hasn’t shown his parents many of his creations and while he enjoys the bits of praise he gets, the lacklustre response just bums his out, so he stops. They aren’t mad about it, nor are they really in favour of it, they just don’t seem to care all that much.
Tim knows better than to waste their time too much and just enjoys their company when he can.
When Tim becomes Robin he’s started commissions within his school and friend group, including a smoking tray for Kevin, a chess piece set for Wesley and a rose candle holder for Darla.
Ives gets the most bit that’s because he gives them to his mum as gifts.
He stops his craft while he trains, usually too tired to do so, but finds making simple vases and bowls is calming for his mind. Batman tells him he needs to have ways to detach from his night life so they don’t get too blurred, a mistake he himself made, and so Tim uses his clay craft to do that.
He makes Bruce a mug shaped like a bat for him to have in the cave and it’s the first thing that starts to break Bruce in regards to seeing Tim as more than just the new Robin.
Tim makes Alfred a kettle pot, a simple thing as it’s his first time doing so, and paints it with buttercups.
Barbara gets a big eye charm that has several little ones hanging off wires from its base. The window charm moves with her to the clock tower even years after.
He makes Dick an elephant with pink markings over it like the one he saw on the circus posters from The Flying Grayson’s. Dick still ain’t happy about there being someone in his brothers suit, not really, but he was never going to truely take that out on Tim and seeing the sweet gift left in his car makes him feel a little lighter.
It still hurts them all to see a young boy in their house that’s not Jason, but with Tim being so different they soon stop making the comparisons so much. There’s still damage down, words that will stick with Tim, but it’s not as bad.
Tim makes Cass whole collection of little things like a tiny duck and frog, as well as hats for them. He makes her a plate that’s just for her with a teddy bear curled around a heart, her initials on the back.
He makes Steph a stupidly intricately engraved brick all for the inside joke between them, but the way she cackled is well worth it.
His teammates get so many gifts he can’t count them all, though his favourite will be the mini versions of them he made and that they put as the centre piece of the towers dining table.
When Jason comes back he doesn’t make anything, not even when the misunderstandings have been cleared up. Jason openly refuses to change his violent ways even if he promises to be more friendly, but that’s not why. Tim is still so hurt at seeing his childhood hero so broken that he can’t bear to think of it, until he watches Bridgerton of all things and starts to think differently.
Tim comers how different Jason must feel and how lonely that must feel, so he makes him something special. It by all means looks like a book even it’s an all clay, though the bones and flowers over the binding give it away with their glistening. Jane Austin’s Sense and Sensibility was hard to paint, and that wasn’t never one of Tim’s strengths, so he doesn’t do the cover art and instead writes out the letters prettily and hopes it’s enough.
Jason never responds to the gift outwardly, but the way he ruffled Tim’s hair just to annoy the other tells him enough.
Duke gets three necklaces that piece together to make one big charm, blending together in a colourful spiral perfectly. One is for him, the other two for his catatonic parents. When he realises what Tim made them for her cries, hugging Tim so tightly he’s afraid he’ll pop.
Damian is the last to receive any gift, their rivalry far too strong, though it ironically Tim’s favourite.
The stump like cup has several little mushroom cups around its sides and set of dips fit for a paintbrush. Tim explains the centre is for water and the other parts made for water colour paints or even acrylic, though that will be harder to clean even with the setting spray.
Damian claims to not use it and only Alfred knows how he asks how to properly clean it without causing damage.
Tim never truely gets to show his parents his hobby, not even when his mum goes and he and his father get a little closer. It hurts him naturally, though when he spots an old high school friend at a coffee shop asking for a drink in her keep cup he made her, he decides that his city has given him what he needed. Gotham and its people, his friends and those who watched him grow up, they gave him the acknowledgment and encouragement he wanted from Jack and Janet.
It’s not perfect, his city isn’t, but neither was his first pot.
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pineapplepr1nc3ss888 · 2 months ago
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HOW TO REVISE:
revision is the thought of rewriting a past event that you wish to have occurred, you immerse yourself in that feeling and you affirm/visualise your desired outcome and act as if it’s true.
do not fear this, you have to remember you are the creator and get yourself out of the victim mentality. revision is changing past events to your desired outcome and it’s nothing to be scared of, whatever you revise will reflect what you have assumed/manifested.
reality as i have said before is completely malleable because it’s fluid. you shift yourself to a state/reality where these events never ever happened. it is extremely easy. you can revise anything you want.
death for example, a loved one died in your reality? you will shift when you immerse yourself in the feeling they’re alive or affirm/visualise they never died then you shift to a reality where this person never died. that is ALL you are doing. revision is shifting your awareness to a reality where it never happened. it can be anything.
these are some success stories from Sammy’s Mermaid Gang, all creds goes to the people who posted them but using these for examples that anything is possible:
I cured my grandpa when he was in his death bed!!!
“So guys I'm so grateful and happy that my grandpa is doing so much better now so what happened was 10 days back my grandpa got very sick everyone around us including my family members n doctors said that he won't survive the day everyone was preparing themselves for his demise but I decided that wasn't fuckin happening i kept revising in my head that he's alright and though he kept getting worse I kept staying positive and I even told my mom to just affirm but she just yelled at me calling me immature and everything so i didn't tell anyone n kept affirming in my mind, even though everyone was so worried at home i kept calm and didn't worry much and now I just went n visited my grandpa after few days n he's almost back to normal he's doing great I'm so happy ❤️”
another:
“I REVISED MY GRANDMOTHER’S PERCEIVED DEATH.
to make a long story short, she was in the ICU on a ventilator and i only had about 3-4 days of rampaging before they would take her off. i persisted and affirmed that she’s healthy and well over 30000 times on the counter app and even more in my head alone. i was anxious and fearful the entire time but persisted anyways. yesterday was the day and there was NO movement or signs that she was doing better. my family and i were in a video chat saying our last goodbyes to her. i was at work and had to hang up, so i was under the impression that she didn’t make it after they took her off the ventilator. i was told that she “lived a long life”. i couldn’t comprehend what happened because i KNEW i was persisting and the law is foolproof, so i affirmed more for her before bed and left it at that.
i woke up to news that she actually survived throughout the night BREATHING ON HER OWN WITH OXYGEN ONLY and that the hospital will be sending her home because there’s nothing they can do for her and she’s completely stable. i called multiple family members CONFUSED saying i thought she died and the responses i got were: no, she didn’t die. who told you that? despite everyone being gathered together in the hospital crying the night before…
the only explanation i have for this is that i shifted realities. because persisted anyways despite the 3d evidence (old story) and perception of her dying, my new assumptions came to pass and everything else before that ceased to exist. i’ve never manifested anything like this before. i’m going to keep affirming until she’s fully healthy.”
this is revising age:
“This is my second time revising my age... First time I did it was I was turning 26 and I wanted to join a certain competition with the age limit of 24! So I revised my age to 23... I kept telling myself that I was born in 1994, even my birthday certificate shows I was born in 1994, and that no body not even my own mother remember my old age...
Here comes the interesting part.. 2weeks before the registration deadline my birthday certificate went missing and I always had it with me... But it disappeared completely, and I couldn't find it so I asked my dad if it was possible to make another for me, since my information was already in the system so it was going to be easy to make a new one so I could finalize my registration... Here comes an interesting part when my new certificate came it said I was born on June 7, 1994.. when in actuality I was born in 1991, I asked my father why is it saying I was born in 1994... He looked at me surprised and told me it's because that's when I was born, I said no dad I was born in 1991, he started laughing and told "are you on drugs or something, I am your father so I Know when you were born"
I swear I couldn't believe it even though I asked for it I was the one who was left surprised
People always love to ask the change of documents... just know If that's what you want your documents will change don't ask how, just know they will change by any means necessary!i The changes can happen naturally just like my school certificate changed on their own, or something will happen that will require the making of new documents with the dates you were affirming”
this one was inspired by someone else who erased a 3p (third party aka someone who interferes in your life” and this 3p was literally her husbands ex wife but she erased them from their reality which meant she shifted to a reality where this person NEVER existed do not ask me about what happens to the old reality stop worrying about it you are the creator what you say fucking goes but anyways:
“So long story short I've been revising to change the past since I saw a comment under Sammy's post, which claims that she erased the 3p like they never even existed in her reality using affirmations. I think well maybe I'll try this shit out with my SP.
The affirmation I used was pretty straightforward:
I am the only person my SP has ever knew online
And guess what happened, after robotically affirming everyday along with some other revision affirmations for some time, my revision has happened. I wavered a lot and the old story kept playing in my mind all the time! But I never gave up, I persisted in my affirmations. My SP got back in contact with me just a few hours ago, when I asked about the 3ps, she said she never knew anyone like those and I'm the only one she has ever knew online.
At this point I was still skeptical about it so I went on Twitter to check about it, to my surprise SP's Twitter account has disappeared into the thin air like she never even on Twitter and all the 3ps' traces are gone too like they never even existed! And SP even confessed her feelings to me saying that she's been wanting me from the moment she saw me (That's my another revision affirmation)
Wow, this revision shit is so powerful, I just get to know loa a couple months back and law of assumption about three or four months and I can still pull this off. I just want to remind y'all we can all make it cuz it's our reality, we literally get to change and delete any shit that doesn't serve us anymore like they never even existed from the first place!”
this is health revision:
“YEAHH! Health revision success story here!
Last week I had my right knee swollen and couldn’t move so that I went to hospital to take a MRI image. The doctor said that there was a tumour in my right knee and in a super deep position, she suggested me to have an operation as soon as possible and gave me cephalosporin for diminishing the inflammation. After I got home, I started repeating affirmations:”My knee works normally, I’m feeling so great, I have never had any health problem.”
Yesterday I took the MRI image for further consultation and turned out that the tumour was GONE and my right knee was fine like nothing happened. The doctor was like:” Your knee is totally fine, why are you here? Maybe inflammation but it’s just fine.”
Revise it if you don’t like the situation! Producing miracles is easy as breathing🪄✨”
and last one, this girl revised being in hospital she shifted from the hospital to her own house:
“I Know I've had my share of big and small manifestations,... But what happened 4 days ago has to be my top tier manifestation, My biggest Manifestation ever! Even as I am writing this, I am shaking! Here we go....
4 days ago I went for a morning walk, on my way back home I was tired and wished someone could offer me a ride to my house, few minutes later a man stopped his bike and offered me a ride and i said sure, as we were about to reach my destination we got into a really bad accident, it was dark really quick and the next thing I know, it's hours later I am in the hospital with a wounded body full of bandages and a fixed broken leg,... I mean now I am so confused, nothing feels right anymore and I started panicking and shouting "this can't be real blah blah blah....." They injected me and I went back to sleep when I work up again, I was about to throw another tantrum but I caught myself and said "Renee(that what I call my Goddess self), You got this, this is just a bad dream, it can't be real how can this be real when you haven't even woken up, you are still home in your bed" I kept telling myself that, with tears in my eyes, deep down I was like I know I can shift realities but can this be possible today... I had doubts but I kept repeating my story to myself till I fall a sleep, I woke up and my mother was there, she was crying 😭💔.. I almost gave up and accept that reality but gathered all my strength and persisted even harder! I went to sleep again and I was awakened by my mom's voice calling me by my name and telling me, "You usually go for a morning walk, why are you asleep till this time"
Now, I think I am loosing my mind like how is it even possible... I asked my mom where are we? She laughed and asked me what do I mean, of course we are home, I asked her surprisingly "not the hospital?" She looked at me confused like "why would we be in the hospital, who is sick?" I hugged her and " No one mom, I just had a nightmare, please just hug me" I am perfectly fine not even a stretch on my body
Happy New Year to me!
Happy New Year to Y'all!”
NOW WAKE TF UP!!
no seriously wake up and fucking learn your own power, absolutely no one can do this except for yourself. stop asking others to shift or manifest for you no one can do this except you! you are the fucking creator of your reality no one else is. YOU ARE A MF GOD!
stop whinging, stop crying, finish your little pity party. you are a god, if you need to cry let those damn emotions out and once you’re done then get your ass back on to affirming.
no more complaining.
no more victim mindset.
if you want something then you need to persist in that assumption that desire is already true, affirm it’s true, visualise its true. this year is yours, you just have to step into your mf power. work on your self concept, affirm you are a master at manifesting, you manifest instantly etc it’s that simple.
stop accepting things you don’t want. you don’t like something that’s happened? revise it. you don’t like this 3p? revise them cos 3p who? 🙄 and no you don’t have to revise they never existed just revise whatever the situation is like they never dated your SP or they were never your friend. whatever you want!! REVISE REVISE REVISE!!!!!!!
ps. stop glorifying the void as the answer to your problems, sure it’s instant but you can also just affirm you manifest instantly you just have to have the concept or belief you manifest instantly and your subconscious will make whatever you manifest instantly happen.
act like a god, be the god you are, claim back your power from the 3d, revise shit you don’t like, work on your self concept. just be the fucking god you are and say this is my reality bitch and make that 3d your fucking bitch💋
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rottingghosty · 2 months ago
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Little Talks | DC X DP
part second part to the ghostling au !! this is just something to give you guys food while i write the fic
also usual errors will be made im only one person blah blah. hope you enjoy, as usual this is scheduled to post at 7am
☁️☁️☁️☁️
Danny lazily blinked at the person in front of him, his brain slowly rebooting itself as he released a small yawn. The person was green. A green person. Huh. Alien? He was exhausted, he spent so long aiding new systems and cradling stars that died and spread their dust around so they would be reborn again. He wanted to sleep but this person was in front of him and it’d be rude to ignore him. Pandora taught him better than that.
“Mrrp?” Danny felt his ears twitch, he wanted to feel mortified at the fact he made a sound like a cat in his own head but he really can’t be blamed because the moon he was around was really comfortable and he had no shame. He lazily tilted his head as the person’s shoulders seemed to loosen? A shake in his body. Weird.
Oh. He’s trying not to laugh at Danny’s response. Can Clockwork rewind so that didn’t happen. Of course CW ignored him like usual when it came to embarrassments like these.
“I do not mean any harm friend.”
The voice in his head echoed and it made Danny shiver in response, it was odd sharing a head space with someone else. He didn’t retaliate or cause any harm. His core could feel that this person was friendly, curious and respectful. He gives a head tilt in response.
Friend. Safe. Okay.
Danny gave another yawn, feeling his jaw open a tad wider than it should in normal human circumstances but who could care less when he has a Martian— an actual martian in front of him even if he’s too sleepy to actively be excited! He’s tired okay, it’s not everyday he gets to indulge on his obsession heavily on an everyday basis. He’d been so deprived that he’d gotten sick and it’s what made the others decide to give him the boot so he could enjoy his time before he got the crown.
“What is your name, little one?” Martian Manhunter softly asked in Danny’s head after the younger one winced from the volume earlier after he began to wake up.
“Danny.”
“Why are you out here?”
“Old man said I needed my enrichment.”
“One of my allies called you a baby ghost of the Infinite Realms, is this true?”
Danny released another cat like sound, this one more curious than the other when he had just barely woke up. Someone knew what he was? How curious, it wasn’t often Danny stumbled in dimensions that knew he was from the Infinite Realms… much less the fact that he’s even a ghostling.
“Mhm, ghostling is the proper term. We usually calculate age by how long we’ve been dead. In ghost terms I’m like three.”
Martian Manhunter seemed to pause, as if listening to something. Danny gave another yawn before he finally decided to change into a more normal size instead of the large form he had used to travel through the void easier. His form shifted in a bright light before he floated over to Martian Manhunter.
He quickly realized he was a lot smaller than he’d been and he supposes this is what CW meant when changing forms, he’d most likely reflect the age he’s in ghost terms. He doesn’t think he’d handle if Martian Manhunter treated him like a kid.
“When you said enrichment…?”
“Oh! Clocky said to play nice with my cousin? I think her name is Wonder Woman? Um he’s ah known as Chronos?”
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grandline-fics · 1 month ago
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OHHHH I GOT AN AMAZING IDEA WHAT IF READER DOESN'T GIVE ONE PIECE MEN A KISS BACK AFTER THEY KISSED READER?
DESCRIPTION: When you don’t kiss them back
WARNINGS: None. This isn’t an angst fic I promise, established relationships in everyone’s but Law’s
CHARACTERS: Shanks, Doflamingo, Law, Ace. (Doflamingo's section can be interpreted as being part of the Immune To Your Charms universe but doesn't necessarily have to be)
WORDS: 2,561
A/N: I'm back after being sick so my writing is still a bit on the rusty side! Thank you for this request and I hope you like it. I kept everything light hearted and more on the playful side with this request which works out well since today's April Fools Day. Enjoy 💕
*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*
DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST | KO-FI
———————
SHANKS
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Sometimes on the Grand Line there are moments of monotony, even for a crew as adventurous and boisterous as the Red Hair pirates. With the previous island long gone and no new island in sight for fun and entertainment in sight, you all had to find your own ways to pass the time. Lounging in one of the hammocks strung up on the deck for these long stretches of nothing you cast your sights around the Red Force, searching for inspiration. For a while nothing came to mind. Then when your gaze found your Captain and lover at the other side of the deck, you slowly smiled as an idea began to form. Shifting in the hammock, you made yourself comfortable and slowly let your eyes slide closed while you waited for your moment.  
Shanks missed you. Your watch had been the last one of the night and early hours so when he woke, your side of the bed was cold. Despite the general lack of activity as they sailed calmly he still had his duties to oversee first before completely relaxing. Finally when he ensured nothing else needed to be done, he made his way directly to where you were lounging. It was cute how peaceful you looked but there was too much space on the hammock for his liking. With a grin he slid his arm under you and effortlessly had you lifted just enough to lie down before settling you to rest against him. 
You were more than used to moments like these so you merely let Shanks adjust you both with your eyes closed and body relaxed. Shanks softly spoke your name to gently coax your mind to sharpen to focus on him. Holding back the urge to laugh you instead let out a soft hum of acknowledgement, letting him know you heard him but still you didn’t open your eyes. You didn’t need to to know the half pout beginning to pull at his lips. “Didn’t get my good morning kiss today.”
At that you finally opened you eyes and Shanks grinned broadly at you, of course that would get your attention. He leant in to get the kiss he was dying for all morning but when his lips met yours he frowned because at the very last second you’d pressed your lips into a tight line. This was not the kiss he’d been so eager for. You didn’t kiss him back. Shanks lightly narrowed his eyes to see the playful glimmer dance in yours. Immediately he knew you were only doing this to be a menace and not because he’d actually done something to deserve being denied your affection. 
Shanks chuckled softly, this was any easily remedied situation. With a confident smile firmly in place he leant in again. You eyed Shanks carefully, all too aware of what you were getting in for when you made the decision to mess with him. You remained as relaxed as possible beside Shanks as he pressed his lips against the crown of your head, then your temple. Slowly he moved precisely, placing tender kisses against your skin. He made sure to kiss your cheek, the tip of your nose, the corner of your mouth, and your jaw. But never your lips. Finally he placed a kiss against your jaw before moving his head to rest in the crook of your neck, his lips strategically near the spot you both knew was a weakness of yours. Then without warning he took a breath and blew a raspberry against your skin causing you to laugh and struggle away from the persistent ticklish feeling. “Okay, okay you win!” You grinned, pushing at his head. “You win!” 
Finally relenting, Shanks pulled back to grin at you broadly, his arm around you tightening to keep you close against him again. Closing the last amount of distance you granted Shanks his prize and kissed him deeply, smiling into it when he happily returned it. 
DOFLAMINGO
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How you came to find yourself in Dressrosa’s Palace was still unexpected to you at times. Even more shocking were the circumstances that led you and Doflamingo to get together in a functioning and actually loving relationship. Something that also threw Dressrosa’s King off too on many occasions, not that he’d openly admit it. Were everyone saw the fearsome, bloodthirsty pirate, you…well you saw the bloodthirsty pirate aspect of that too. However you never feared the man, it was physically impossible to feel it. You could most certainly feel frustration with him and annoyance, you were the only one to never back down and confront him on anything he did that you didn’t agree with. More than anything though, you felt safe with him and reassured that you were literally the only person for him.
Today though you felt playfully curious, wondering just how much Doflamingo would put up with your mischief and random testing of his limits in patience. You strode casually into his office and smiled sweetly, watching Doflamingo pause in his work to sit back slightly in his seat to observe your approach. Even with his glasses hiding his eyes from view, you could read his body well enough to know he was already anticipating some sort of nonsense from you. Since it was you though, it was nonsense he welcomed and he grinned. “Now what’s brewing in that mind of yours today?”
“Can’t I grace you with my presence?” You asked with a smirk as you sat on the edge of the desk and lightly tapped your lips, a wordless request for a kiss. Knowing that wasn't all you were up to Doflamingo still grinned wider and leant forward, his lips pressed against yours. The second he noticed you didn’t reciprocate it he pulled back to regard you carefully. Innocently you blinked at him and tapped your lips again. With a dramatic sigh, Doflamingo brought his lips to yours and just like before you didn’t return the action. He pulled back to frown down at you.
“What’s wrong? Don’t you want to kiss me?” You asked, your expression still a perfect mask of false concern.
“You going to keep sitting there like a statue?” He asked with a small teasing grin. “Don’t you want me to kiss you?”
“I do but the thing is I was working out the numbers and you owe me a lot of kisses before I can kiss you back.” You explained sweetly and shrugging lightly. “Until it’s even, I can’t kiss you.”
“And how did I amass such a debt, exactly?” Doflamingo chuckled, finding this far more entertaining that reading overzealous reports from middle rank pirates under his command looking to impress him. “Since I’m King, can’t I pardon myself?”
“Won’t work with me Doffy.” You shook your head, swiftly dodging this time when he tried to claim your lips while you were speaking. Quickly you pinched his chin and stared at him with playful severity. “I need ample payment. If kisses are too simple, you can get creative to get rid of the debt.”
“Creative, huh?” Doflamingo grinned pressing a kiss against your unmoving lips. “A kiss is one. How many does a back rub take off my bill?”
“Oh a really good one is five.” You told him, you should have expected he’d find a way to enjoy this instead of get impatient or agitated. Doflamingo laughed and leaned in a confident grin shaping his lips that made you suspicious. 
“If I send Trebol on a mission?” Your eyes glinted immediately but you still didn’t take the initial offering. This was a negotiation after all. “Oh and he can’t return for at least two weeks.”
Immediately you broke out into a grin and tapped your lips once more. This time when his lips met yours, you returned it eagerly. If it meant you weren’t bothered by Trebol for a while, he could have as many as he wanted.
LAW
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“Is it true that when people kiss their brains release a hormone that’s the same as when they use drugs?” You asked curiously from your spot on the sofa, looking over to watch Law pause in reading his medical notes to meet your gaze. It wasn’t rare for you to ask random questions like is. A lot of the times it was because you were genuinely curious but other times you were asking because you either wanted to fluster or toy with him in some way. Today’s question seemed to one of those days. His eyes narrowed slightly, trying to not give an outward reaction.
Subtly clearing his throat Law returned to his medical notes, focusing on the words on the paper and not on your question echoing in his mind. “Something like that.”
“So you could get addicted if you kissed someone enough times?”
“Not exactly…” Law began, tapping his foot lightly on the floor. He was about to go into the complicated biology and chemistry of it all but then you asked another question.
“Is that why you haven’t kissed me yet?” You grinned as Law all but choked on nothing. “Scared you’ll get addicted?” His widened eyes looked to you again and he was thankful no-one else was around to have heard it otherwise it would have made things more embarrassing; for them to see him begin to blush so childishly. 
Instead it was just the two of you, staying behind to watch the Polar Tang while they explored. It had been peaceful and calm, just what he wanted up until you threw your bomb of a question into the usually content atmosphere that occurred when you were together. Now he had to try and force his mind to restart, to form an actual response instead of just the blank, openmouthed floundering he was currently doing. It only made things worse to see you so thoroughly pleased with yourself, your lips curved into the proudest smile. As your Captain, he should have reprimanded you but he could only imagine finally kissing you, doing what the two of you had been dancing around for a while now; finally give in. “Wouldn’t get addicted if I kissed you.”
You shifted in your seat and pulled yourself closer to Law, eyes firmly on his face. Gently you took the forgotten medical notes from his hand and set them behind you before leaning in. “I’m willing to test the theory if you are.”
There was no backing out of the challenge now, not after he’d boldly stated he’d be fine if he kissed you. Besides he didn’t want to back down, not when he could see a hopeful shine in your eyes under the playfulness. Carefully he set his hand on your side and leant in, pressing his lips to yours only to glower when you smiled but made no further response. He pulled back to scowl at you. “The hell you call that?”
“What? We were testing if you’d get addicted if you kissed me, not the other way around.” You protested with a grin. “So did it work?”
“Idiot! Do it right this time.” Law snapped but without his usual sharpness in his tone.
“You want to kiss me again already? Sounds like you are addicted after-” Your playful taunt was cut off when Law’s lips claimed yours. It had taken all of your restraint the first time to hold back in kissing Law and there was no way you were ever going to stop yourself again. Despite all your teasing, maybe you were the one that was going to prove the theory right and be the addicted one. 
ACE
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The feast was in full swing, plentiful food and drink seemingly never-ending and that was perfectly fine for you and the rest of the Whitebeard crew. You would have thought that you all would have grown tired of the partying by now but because of the close relationship of the crew it never lost its impact. Hundreds of parties and feasts in your memory and all of them feeling like it was the very first one. Tonight you and the others made yourselves comfortable in the festive environment amongst the civilians of the island town you were staying at. Letting the infectious joy heighten in you, you looked around with a smile and soon set your sights on Ace who as always was the life of an already lively party. 
Ace was surrounded by civilians and crew alike, talking animatedly and warmly. For the residents of the town you could see they felt as if they’d known the pirate for a lot longer than a mere evening but that was your boyfriend all over, able to put anyone at ease and give everyone the right amount of attention. It was something you always admired about him. In the middle of whatever he was talking about you froze when Ace suddenly met your gaze and pointed you out with a broad grin. The civilians looked to you excitedly while the rest of the crew in earshot rolled their eyes in amusement; most likely having heard this story for many times before. You offered them a smile and small wave before getting pulled into your own conversation again.
It wasn’t long before you heard hurried footsteps sound from behind you. You turned and were pulled immediately into a kiss by Ace. You reacted against your initial instinct and kept your mouth firmly closed. It hadn’t been your intention to not kiss Ace back and when he pulled back with a pout you swiftly grabbed his hand. Quickly you swallowed the mouthful of food you’d been eating before your boyfriend appeared. “Sorry, that was just really bad timing.”
“It’s never bad timing though if I get to kiss you though.”
“That’s sweet but it is bad timing if I’ve got a mouth full of food, Ace.” You argued with a laugh only to roll your eyes when Ace grinned and shook his head.
“Still not seeing a downside to the scenario. Two of my favourite things right there; food and you.”
“You’re so weird.” You laughed while Ace grinned down at you, wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you tightly.
“And you love me for it.”
“Sadly that’s true. I’m madly in love with every part of you, including your food obsession.” You smiled and leaned further into the comforting embrace you were in. At this time of the evening, when he’d had his fill of food and drink Ace became more affectionate and clingier than usual. As long as he was in touching range of you by this time he was happy to continue the feasts and parties for another handful of hours. Reaching up you adjusted Ace’s hat so you could see more of his face and pulled him closer, pressing a kiss to his lips in silent apology for your unintentional rejection. Then you brought him into a second, deeper kiss, only pulling back when your attentions were grabbed by some of the civilians calling for Ace to tell them another story. You sighed slightly and pulled back, remaining securely in his arms. As fun as the feasts and parties were, you couldn’t wait to get back onto the ship and set sail again since it meant less people would be vying for Ace’s attention and you’d get him all to yourself again.
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jellitchi · 9 months ago
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hello friends heres some more artist au ,,, i have A huge infodump under the cut ... u were warned
uhm mumbo is a tattoo artist in this au, hes the towns electrician primarily but he does tattoo work too. hes terrified of needles on his own skin but really enjoys the process of tattooing. i think he mostly does geometric stuff. probably hrm.
gem runs and owns the fishing dock/bait shop. shes born and raised in this town so shes been here her whole life. shes okay at painting but her real passion is with clay- specifically sculpting. shes taking a pottery workshop w grian but she like the freedom sculpting has that the wheel cant really give her...? if that makes sense.. she still likes it. when she paints she gravitates towards gouache and watercolors, she likes the fluidity she can achieve w em. also is very fond of how gouache lets u set it down then return and reactivate it w water again lol
pearl is a relatively successful artist, shes constantly traveling for art shows and also to host workshops/look for inspiration. she used to paint a lot, thats how she kinda got her fame... she used to paint this one girl a lot idk she has curly orange hair and freckles and shes always painted really beautifully. then stuff happened and now pearl mostly sculpts now. she still paints and her paintings are her most popular works but shes more into working w clay.
hm more abt this au, pearl and grian are siblings and both grew up learning oil painting. jimmy is also in this au im still figuring out a role but hes their cousin— basically brother— i was thinking pearls manager js coz i think itd b funny lol.
the setting is a small coastal town hrmm havent thought too much else abt it, was mostly pulling from coastal norcal ish...
in this au scar and grian are really really tight and have been living w each other for like 5/6 ish years. i dont think they officially get tgt... they think theyre woke asf n say they dont like labels (kinda kidding) the real reason is just timing. whenever grian is sick of running circles and works up the courage, scar usually has some complications hes working through and grian feels like hed just be another stressor added to his plate so he just wills it away... then when scar is like Im gonna do it. Im gonna tell him. Grian is experiencing sum kinda dilemma and is rly stressed so then scar is like well it can wait... (this goes on forEver.) whenever they do sync up, usually theyre far too scared about ruining their friendship and having to find a new roommate or something. they both r very important to each other and if bottling up their feelings means they can hold onto each other and keep each other around then thats what theyll do...! yeah theyre doomed🤦‍♂️.... they still basically do romantic activities tgt- they just think its normal coz its them.... also everyone around them thinks theyre secretly dating or smth anyways Yeah this is the au in a nutshell im such a sucker for long term pinning friends to lovers or whatever😭😭😭😭😭...
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owuwi · 2 months ago
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SEVIKA.ᐟ
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➤ sevika x pregnant!reader
.ᐣ after a bad day, sevika says things she quickly regrets.
⤷ cw: angst, sevika not knowing how to handle her feelings, crying.
requested
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Sevika wouldn't be Sevika without that big mouth of hers.
If such things came from someone else's mouth, they wouldn't last a day in the undercity—but Sevika was different. Truth be told, it was one of the reasons why you fell in love with her: the way she could do and say whatever she wanted and get no consequences due to how terrified everyone was of her.
Though now, with the baby on its way, she swore she was going to tone her attitude down.
She didn't want the baby's first word to be some type of profanity, she wanted everything to go perfectly, so she started being perfect. Despite everything that happened between Zaun and Piltover, what happened with Jinx and Isha, she was still trying to be a better version of herself—especially with her new job as a councilor—. So far, she had been doing great, expect for tonight.
Tonight, she came back home with the most terrible headache ever—her ears lightly buzzing, her body trembling, her jaw clenched—and it was all thanks to them. Those fucking Pilties didn't listen to her, not a single of her suggestions had been considered, and she couldn't take it anymore. She didn't hesitate to pour herself a glass of whisky the moment she stepped home and she gulped it down quickly—not bothering to properly taste it.
Since the older woman was never quiet when she was angry, it didn't take long before you woke up and left the comfort of your warm room to go check on her.
But oh, a small part of you wish you didn't.
Sure, there were times when the two of you would have arguments but all couples had them, and the fact that neither of you could stay mad at each other was the reason why the silent treatment never lasted long.
Yet tonight was different.
Sevika was pissed and you were very emotional thanks to the hormones, which definitely didn’t help her mood. When tears started rolling down your soft cheeks thanks to her behavior, she snapped.
"Why the fuck are you crying?" She quickly asked you, her voice sharper than she meant it to be, her tone being one she would use with others and not with you—though that didn't stop her from continuing. "Acting like a damn child.." She then added, letting out a low chuckle before pouring herself more of the strong liquor, bringing her glass up to her lips and taking a long sip from it.
If you didn't know her, you'd just blame it on the alcohol, but Sevika's tolerance had always been admirable.
"Oh i wonder why t-that might be." You replied in a slightly sarcastic tone of voice as one of your hands slowly caressed the bump of your pregnant stomach, your words shaky and hesitant when they fell from your lips. On another moment, your girlfriend would've found this action—you delicately touching where her baby was growing—absolutely adorable, but right now she couldn't think properly.
"Yeah well, you wouldn't be in such a fucking mood if things had stayed normal!" She yelled, looking at you with a glossy yet roughened gaze. She then slammed her glass on the table—the contained liquid spilling a bit—and ran her hand through her short hair.
Hearing the woman you loved saying something like that, regretting the child the two of you were going to raise together, it broke something in you—primarily your heart—.
Sevika had been so happy lately; had been the one rubbing your back when the morning sickness hit you so hard you couldn’t even stand, the one who had built the crib herself—muttering under her breath about how those shitty instructions made no damn sense—, the one who pressed her lips against your stomach at night when she thought you were asleep—murmuring something too quiet for you to hear.
But now, with the way she was standing there, glaring at you like this was all your fault, like the life growing inside you was a mistake, you couldn't help but ask yourself if it had all been a lie.
"Sev—..." You started yet got interrupted by your own sobs, both of your hands coming up to desperately wipe the tears away from your face. "T-Talk to me... what is going on? Why are you—... why are you acting like this?" You begged her in between cries, begged her to explain why the sudden change of heart.
And seeing you like this was something the muscular woman had never been able to handle. Despite how awful her day had been, how her mind was filled with nothing but rage, she finally acknowledged the fact that she shouldn't have treated you like this—shouldn't have acted like she hated what she's built with you—.
Suddenly, your knees felt too weak. Your world was crumbling down and so were you, so you quickly rushed to the couch and sat down. Your eyes were burning and your throat felt way too tight for your liking, your body shaking and shivering like crazy. Your hands quickly found your face and covered it.
The feeling of a warm, sweaty palm on your leg caused you to slightly jolt. When you lifted your head from the shield created by your hands, you were greeted with the sight of your girlfriend crying. Sevika had learned how to be more open with you over the last few years, but you've never seen her cry.
"Fuck i—... i'm so fucking sorry.." She apologized, her voice now sounding way softer than before and actually regretful. Hesitantly, she brought her hand up to your face and wiped your tears away—her rough thumb being a sensation you've missed. "I didn't mean to snap..." She added while continuing holding you.
"You're my whole life, you're the reason why i wanna be better. You and—... our baby are why i keep fighting.." She admitted some seconds later, her bottom lip trembling as she fought back more tears. "You're not acting like a child, you're pregnant with our baby and i should've never raised my voice at you.."
Subconsciously, you wrapped your hand around her wrist and gripped it—as if you were keeping her close to you. This was the Sevika you knew, your Sevika, and this was the Sevika you wanted to raise your child with. You didn't want the scary lady the whole undercity feared, you didn't want Silco's number two, you wanted this.
"T-Then why did you say that?" You questioned, feeling yourself starting to calm down slowly. If you meant so much to her, why say such things? "Because i—... fuck, i'm scared of screwing up, okay?" She revealed, leaning in and lightly resting her head on your lap.
"I've always been fighting; for myself, for my people. And now i got a family to protect and i'm fucking scared. I can't lose you, and i don't know how to handle everything i'm feeling.." She then mumbled so quietly you thought it was just a fiction of your imagination.
"You're never going to lose me, but you hurt me whenever you say things like that.." You replied, slowly placing her palm over your bump. "You hurt us..."
"I know... i'm so sorry.." She immediately said, nuzzling her teary cheek against your lap and allowing her body to relax. "Please.. i promise you i'll never say that again, especially because i didn't mean it." She whispered, and you could tell how sorry she truly was.
Sevika had always been a difficult woman but you loved her, and she made sure to make it easier for you since she loved you too. So with a softened voice, you accepted her apology and knew her words were nothing but the truth.
And Sevika was more than relieved to receive your reassurance. With her strong arms, she lifted you up the couch and carried you back to bed.
Carefully, she lifted your sleeping shirt up and immediately placed a tender kiss on your belly. "I'm sorry to you too, yeah?" She murmured, leaning in again to press her—slightly dry—lips against your skin.
Your girlfriend's strong personality could be an issue at times but that didn't make her less perfect.
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car-o-line · 3 months ago
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HII wondering if you could do Matthew hallard as readers best friend when they were both in the orphanage?1?1?1 you could add anything else 😼 im not forcing ANYWAY HAVE A GOOD DAYAYAY
I literally SCREAMED I’m so excited to do a ppt request because chapter 4 was amazing, and because of my ppt brainrot I’ll do Kevin/Jack as well! AND I HOPE UR DAY IS JUST AS AMAZING AS THIS REQUEST🧡❤️💛
Being friends with Matthew/Kevin/Jack(before/after Doey)
Part 2 <3
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Matthew Hallard:
Probably the nicest teenager anyone’s ever met tbh.
Whether you’re younger than him or around the same age as him he’ll treat you like his little sibling. There’s no stopping it.
Always puts your needs above his and he won’t compromise that at all.
Oh you’re thirsty? He suddenly has an apple juice box in his hand! Hungry? Well now he suddenly has a bag of chips in his backpack!
(They were supposed to be for him but shh)
Makes sure all your homework’s done, if not then he’ll scold you for it.
But then he’ll feel bad and help you do it.
If you were around his age you'd probably know about his parent’s accidents he couldn’t prevent.
If you were younger he’d save that topic for when you were older, if only he had time left.
He’d be worried sick when you were taken away because you were “sick”.
Once you came back you seemed hazy, it made him nervous so he held your hand just to let you know that he was there, until you were officially “adopted.”
Later he really found out through his own “sickness” what “adoption” meant.
He hates what the scientists did to you, did to him. It gives him a reason to keep going as Doey.
Kevin Barnes:
How??
Like actually how.
Kevin doesn’t know why he considers you his friend ngl.
The scientists were definitely interested in how you and Kevin got along without you running away from him.
They couldn’t care less about the friendship part but they want to know how it started.
It was easy actually, he randomly tackled you to the ground even though you’ve both never talked before.
You didn’t cry, or scream, instead you reacted like it was a game. Which it was, kind of.
Kevin won in the end because of his physical ability but you thought it was really fun!
So now every time he gets bored he tries to find you and tackle you again.
Other than that he cares for you in his own way.
Like when the scientist took you away because of your sickness?
He wouldn’t let go of your arm no matter how hard the scientists tried to pull.
And the more they did that the more times he’d yell at them that you were fine and didn’t need them.
But they got you when he was sleeping, and when he woke up a new toy appeared in the Playtime Facility.
He never saw you again, even after he was “adopted.”
Jack Ayers:
While he wasn’t an orphan he did go on a visit to the Playtime Factory.
He met you through there, he was really excited to make a new friend.
He asked you so many questions about the orphanage and the facility.
In exchange you got to ask him about his home life and how the outside was.
“You haven’t been outside?”
“This area is considered the outside silly!”
“Really..?”
He felt bad for you and suggested that his parents adopted you!
(they said no)
Instead you just took him to see “Home Sweet Home” and showed him your room.
Then Jacks trip to facility was over and he had to leave, but before that his family was watch the process of making Doey.
Jack leaned over the railings to have a closer look but fell into one of vat machines that were making dough.
But the last glimpse of his consciousness he saw a what looked to be a kid with h/c walking with a scientist to one of the offices.
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marsian-tango · 3 months ago
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Yandere Camp Counselor
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Fresh out of college, after four years of doing nothing but studying, you’re finally free!
Everything is gonna be fine now, the nightmare has ended. The sleepless nights are gone, those lazy classmates who you had to work with are no longer in sight, the teacher who once failed you and gave you the news with a condescending smile on their face is now bidding you goodbye.
The ominous presence of adulthood is breathing down your neck, and your parents’ warnings of the difficulties that you'll have to endure now such as jobs and taxes do intimidate you a bit. But you got it under control!
You remember when you were little and your parents would send you to Camp Howler, you had the utmost fun there. Each summer since you were eight, you’d beg your parents to leave you there, and each summer they did. That was until you got ‘too old’ for that ‘childish stuff’, according to them.
You applied for a job as a camp counselor, and when you told the head counselor who you were and that you used to go there when you were little, he recognised you immediately. You could hear his excitement through the phone when he told you that you and him used to spend all summers together at camp, even sharing a bunk bed!
How cool!
And look at you now, finally free from academic obligations, ready to work at the place where you got all your best memories from, and with the one person your young self used to hang out with!
Ugh! This. Will. Be. Awesome!
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Yandere! Camp counselor who practically squealed like a little girl when he recognised who you were, almost ending the call by accident when his phone slipped out of his shaky grasp.
He can’t believe it! It’s you! After so many years of not knowing how you were doing or where you were, he’s finally gonna see you again. Oh, boy, is he ecstatic!
Yandere! Camp counselor who used to be so close to you, attached to the hip. He knew you like the palm of his hand, and that always made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, it made you feel important, so you never thought of spending your time with anybody else at camp, although it’s not like you could anyway. It’s no surprise, really, everytime you came to camp he would intercept you before anyone else could.
Yandere! Camp counselor who never forgot about you. You were once the light of his life, he remembers playing with you every day, doing all the fun activities that Camp Howler offered. You two would spend the entire day together, and it was all just chatting, laughing, running, swimming—all of it together.
And at the end of the day, you guys would get back to your shared cabin and have your usual sleepover—and if he was lucky, you’d fall asleep before even getting to your bunk, succumbing to slumber right by his side, without a care in the world, as he nuzzles into your neck and takes in your addicting scent. Strawberries and sunlight. Ah, he still remembers.
Yandere! Camp counselor who waits by the entrance of the camp with a bouquet of wildflowers in one hand, and a homemade bracelet in the other. He’s not sure how long he’s been standing here for, all he knows is that you left home at 7 AM, and he woke up at—well, he didn’t wake up at all, the excitement to see you again kept him up all night.
His eyes widen and his pulse quickens when he sees a car approaching, and the moment he sees your figure getting out of the car he’s full sprinting towards you, almost tackling you to the ground with a warm bear hug.
Gosh! It’s been so long! Oh, you’re glowing. You've certainly bloomed into the most beautiful flower. Oh! You need to tell him everything about you. What have you been up to? What did you study? Did you like it? How are your parents? Are you single?
Yandere! Camp counselor who can’t be away from you. Seriously, it makes him feel physically sick. It’s just like when you were kids, but a hundred times more.
You just got to camp a few days ago, you’re still getting to know all the other counselors and campers, but the nostalgia and familiarity of it all makes you feel right at home.
And having your childhood friend by your side brings up so many memories. He, for once, is having so much fun with you here. You two can do all the things that you did as kids, the only difference is that you guys are grown ups now. The best of both worlds!
Yandere! Camp counselor who wasn’t an antisocial kid or even shy, in fact, he was quite outspoken and friendly, and when his hyperactivity got the best of his parents, they decided to send him to Camp Howler to wear out some energy.
He made many friends there, but one fateful day…he met you. Poor and homesick you. He felt drawn instantly. How could he not? You were like a small fawn missing their parents, afraid of all the noise and people, looking for a place to hide from all the loud beasts. He needed to help you, to be your shelter, your protector. Oh, you looked so scared and lost…
Yandere! Camp counselor who, ever since that day, became your knight in shining armor. Never letting any camper near your delicate frame. Ah, even as a kid he was devoted to you.
Now he doesn’t protect you from campers—he knows you can deal with them on your own. He protects you from other counselors. Those are the real mutts here!
Yandere! Camp counselor who insists on reminiscing the good old days by being bunk buddies again. C’mon, you guys used to have so much fun! A never ending sleepover. Every. Night. C’mon, you used to love it! And you can even have the top bunk.
Oh? You’d rather have some privacy and sleep alone?
Well, guess what? There are no other beds! So unless you want to sleep on the floor, you’ll have to share a bunk with him. But don’t worry, it’ll be so much fun! You can make friendship bracelets, and tell spooky stories—you can even cuddle him if it gets too scary. Trust me, he wouldn't mind.
Yandere! Camp counselor who loves watching you interact with the kids. It’s just so cute to see you playing with the young campers and doing all the fun stuff that you guys did at their age. It makes him realize how good of a parent you’ll be one day. Although, he already knew that. When playing house with you, you were always such a good spouse. Making the imaginary food, setting the plastic table, always greeting him with a peck on the cheek when he came back from the rainbow factory.
Oh, he always knew, even from a young age, that you’d be the perfect spouse.
He’s not really sure why he used to enjoy playing house with you so much, or why he’s having these unusual thoughts of you being a spouse…
But, hey! It must be nothing, right?
Yandere! Camp counselor who always feels something strange bubbling in his chest when you’re around, something intensely warm and uncontrollable. He’s felt it ever since you two were kids. It’s so weird. He never paid too much attention to it since he thought that it was a common thing between friends. But that feeling changed once you stopped coming to camp, it turned into something heavy, yet sharp.
And now that he’s got you back it’s like his entire body is on fire. Like his heart wants to come out of his ribcage and get into yours.
He’s really confused. When he was little he remembers talking to a counselor about it, and the young adult suggested that it was…a crush.
He didn’t get it at the time, but now he understands it perfectly. This does feel like a crash! It feels as if his body was being sunk down by this dense feeling, all the way down till it crashes against the core of the earth.
Huh.
So that’s what it’s called. That is a crush. To feel the weight of your unwavering love resting upon your shoulders and throat, filling your lungs with confessions that you would only come up with in the darkest hours of the night, and you’d only be brave enough to utter in the haze of drunkenness.
Yandere! Camp counselor who’s not sure how to approach this whole ‘crush’ situation. He wants to tell you how he feels, but he doesn’t know if you feel the same way, and he doesn’t wanna force that kind of connection. He wants to have a real thing with you, like the whole package.
He wants to take you out on a date, to make you gifts, to make you feel loved, and to show you that what he feels is genuine.
He’s not completely sure about the whole romance protocol, he’s not as socially skilled as he was when he was younger. Truth be told, after you stopped coming to camp, he kinda shut himself off. He stopped hanging out with his friends, never speaking to anyone but his parents, and the only way to have a full on conversation with him was if it was about you.
Poor, pathetic baby. He missed you so much.
But he’s willing to learn! He’ll woo you so hard, you’ll swoon at the sight of him.
Yandere! Camp counselor who, during your nightly strolls near the lake, suggests having a different kind of fun tonight, a more reckless kind of fun.
Ah, you see. The lake looks so refreshing, and it’s so hot today—the hottest day of the year, says the news—it seems as if the weather itself was tempting you to peel off your skin and let the summer breeze consume you altogether…but maybe a little swim would be enough, don’t you think?
C’mon! A nice swim to cool off your bodies before going to sleep, sounds like heaven on a day like this.
Sorry, what? You don’t have your swimsuit…
Well, that's fine! There’s nobody around but you two. You don’t have to be so worried. Sure, he doesn’t have his swimsuit either. But you guys still have your underwear, that should do the trick, right?
Yandere! Camp counselor who makes sure to always sit next to you during campfires. Pretending to yawn before wrapping his arm around your shoulders, bringing you even closer than you already were.
And every time. He prays to every God there is for you to get spooked by some scary story, so you can curl to his side, and he can swiftly pull you to his lap. That has only happened once. But, God, one can only dream.
Yandere! Camp counselor who tries to get a hold of his feelings, he really does. But it's so hard! And the kids notice. Boy, do they notice. They overheard him once attempting to flirt with you, albeit you remained oblivious to his intentions, they sure didn’t. The campers have a field day with that one, let me tell you that.
Yandere! Camp counselor who has to put up with the kids making fun of him. The campers see how infatuated—obsessed he is with you, and some of them even try to set you up with him, but others just use this as an opportunity to bully him even more.
He’s so pathetic. Making you bracelets and necklaces, writing you little poems, ogling you from a bush while you swim in the lake—now that they think about it, he’s more creepy than pathetic.
But in the end two groups were formed. The group that sees this as the perfect way to spend their summer, cause who doesn’t enjoy messing with a grown man and his futile attempts of seduction? And the group that takes pity on him and decides to help him achieve his goal.
The second group makes all kinds of projects. They plan a candle lit dinner under the mesmerising moonlight. A picnic on a nearby hill as the sunset sets away in the distance. A slow dance after the bonfire with the stars painting the sky above.
The first group succeeds in ruining all of those plans. That candle lit dinner? Well, it looks like one of those candles reached some dry weeds and started a fire! That picnic on the hill? I bet you weren’t expecting to be so close to a wasp nest, huh. A slow dance, was it? Oh, no! A kid was messing around with a conveniently accessible nail gun and hurt himself!
Yep, they’re really up for the challenge. They give their best every single time. Even if it means compromising their physical integrity.
Yandere! Camp counselor who is unlucky, inexperienced, weird, and overall, a total loser. But he loves you with all his might. He doesn’t care that all his attempts ended in failure, he will never stop trying. Because you’re worth it. You’re worth every failure, cause one day, life will smile at him and you’ll be finally his.
He can endure a few more failed tries, it’s okay. The wasp stings don’t hurt that much anyway.
He’s got all summer to show you his love, and if that doesn’t work, he’s always got next summer. Or the next one, or the next one, or the next one—point is, he’s got time!
It’s not like you have anywhere else to go during the summer, right?
You need a job, you need money—and he’s the head counselor of the camp, so he controls your paycheck. If you even think about looking for another job, he’ll just increase your paycheck! He doesn’t mind. He might have to make some cutbacks here and there, but he’s sure the other counselors won’t mind earning a little less money, and if they do—well, he can always just fire them!
Yandere! Camp counselor who just got you back after years of being away from you. Surely you don’t expect him to let go of you that easily, do you? You came back to him, this is destiny. Your fate is to end up with him. He can feel it.
C’mon, you must feel something for him, right? It can’t possibly be one sided…
You better pray that it’s not one sided, cause if it is, he’ll freak out. He’ll go insane. We’re talking about a pathetic weirdo here, we don’t know what he’s capable of!
Yandere! Camp counselor who will make you love him, even if it takes a thousand summers. He won’t let you go, he won’t make the same mistake twice.
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Who ordered a pathetic freak with a side of fries?! Hello, everybody, i missed you. I missed my community of freaks who yearn for yearners. I'm starting to get frustrated with myself, I recently found out that I'm not good at writing stories in a format that isn't "Yandere! who", but I'll keep practising. I'll try not to procrastinate so much and just...write. Even if it's REALLY bad. Remember that if there's any mistakes, let me know. Anyway, I hope everyone is having a good day, night, or whatever's in between. Kisses <3
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creamecafe · 4 months ago
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Heyyy there I saw your post about allowing a request for various squid game characters. Can I request Hwang In-ho/front man?
Partner! Reader x Hwang In-ho/Front man
Like s/o doesn't know anything about the games and In-ho just have a whole nother identity just for her. She knows that In-ho goes on a business trip for 7 days and then comes back like nothing happens. And just before In-ho leaves for the "business trip" they have fluff moments and In-ho tries his best to keep her out of his other life
🫶🫶🫶
Secrets I have held in my heart
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Summary: What the requests says
Pairing: Hwang In-Ho x GN!Reader
Warnings: none just fluff and maybe feelings of guilt, bathing together but it's NOT smut
Author's Note: Thank you so much for requesting this! I hope you enjoy it! I also tried making my own dividers. It's not the best, but if I make one that's decent I'll post them for people to use
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Want a request for a Squid Game character like this one? Check out my latest post, read my request guidelines and send a request!
Read on Wattpad & AO3 here
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Hwang In-Ho was an interesting man. But he was yours. Your friends and family say they find him to be scary or something off about him. But you can't see him anything else than what he is, a caring husband who makes sure to provide well for you.
He tells you that his job is working at a sales company of always testing new products for people and surveying so you really thought nothing of it. Majority of the time he would go on business trips for at least a week. He never told you where he was going but you never wanted to bother him so much.
It was three days before he left and he always made sure to spend all his time with you. Taking you out to eat at your favorite place, watching your favorite movies, cooking and taking naps together.
Doing these things with you made him happy, but he also felt bad about lying about his work to you. He knew that your perspective and love would change because of that.
He didn't want to lose you because of that. But he also couldn't lose his job.
Today was the last day he would be spending time with you and he wants to make the most of it. You woke up with breakfast in bed. Your favorite.
"Don't worry about work sweetheart, I called in sick for you."
You smiled knowing you were really going to spend the day with him together
After you finish your breakfast, you two would take a warm bath together. Nothing sexual, just you two holding each other and making small talk.
Then it would be you guys just watching TV and cuddling with each other.
He really loves you so much. It was hard keeping his double life from you. But all that mattered was that you were safe and anything that you knew could put you in danger.
A few hours have passed and he ordered take out on your favorite restaurant. There it was again, just talking and him saying he's going to miss you
Before you knew it, it was time for you both to go to sleep. You were sad knowing that the next morning he would be gone.
Both of you guys were wrapped up in each other, cuddling and innocence of you two sleeping together meant so much to him.
The next morning came and he had to get ready to leave. You helped him prepare the stuff he needed, suits, snacks, and a goodbye kiss.
"Promise you'll text me everyday to at least make sure you're alight?"
"I promise my darling."
Both of you smiled at this and kissed each other as he was heading to his taxi. He looked back at you and waved to you.
You waved back and soon the car drove off.
When he was in the car, he pulled out his phone with a text message asking if he was on his way. He responded and then took something out of the pocket from his jacket. It was a picture of you. It would at least be a reminder of everything he's doing for you to have the best life possible even if you didn't know.
It would be a few hours before he had to put his love aside for you and keep focus on the bigger picture.
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justdontaskme · 6 months ago
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Home Sick (Leah Williamson x Reader)
A/N: It's been so long! I'm trying to get back into things but don't be surprised if I dip again, unfortunately. I want to go back and finish some of my WIPs but needed to get something out. Let me know what you think!
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Normally, a day off from practice was a godsend, and you’d spend most of the day tangled in bed with your girlfriend. The day would be filled with laziness as you both enjoyed the simplicity and stillness the rare day of no obligations could hold. 
Yet, today, at this very moment, you felt as if you were at your wit’s end. And said girlfriend was the source of much of the current frustration. 
You’ve been slaving away in the kitchen since you woke up this morning, preparing to feed your whole team as they were scheduled to arrive later today. If you were being honest, there was a part of you that was beginning to regret even deciding to host, but it was too late now. 
Ordinary team hangouts were usually chill, with all the girls coming over for drinks and a movie or game night. Today though, you had planned an early Friendsgiving dinner. Well, it was actually Emily’s idea after she heard you were feeling extra homesick this year. 
Your fellow American picked up on your sour mood lately, and she hounded you until you admitted that you had seen a bunch of videos about people already planning out Thanksgiving menus. In fact, your family group chat had been going off with your parents asking for a head count for the special dinner and any dish requests. 
Since neither you nor Emily were going to make it home for the holiday, it only made sense for you two to celebrate this holiday with your new team. It didn’t matter that they didn’t quite understand the hype of this specific holiday here on the other side of the pond, they were more than happy to learn and eat. 
When word got to Leah, she was onboard instantly, wanting to do whatever she could to help alleviate any feeling of you missing home. While you loved and appreciated your girlfriend for wanting to help, right now you really just needed her to get out of your way. 
“Leah! Get out of the kitchen!” you said, shooing your girlfriend away before she could knock something else over. You grabbed another dish towel and started wiping up the sauce the blonde managed to get all over the counter. 
“I’m just trying to help,” she said, standing right behind you with a bunch of paper towels in hand, causing you to run straight into her when you turned around. 
After throwing the dirty towel into the sink to rinse later, you grabbed Leah’s shoulders so you could face her directly, “I know, babe, but right now you are literally stressing me out more than you are helping me.”
The blonde pouted, visibly deflating, her voice mumbled, “I didn’t mean to stress you out.”
Your face softened at her words. Leah really was just trying to help, but with a million different things going on in the kitchen at once she was more a hazard than anything else. A hand went up, cupping her cheek.
“I know you want to help, but cooking has never been your strong suit,” you said, your voice light to let her know you were teasing. “How about you help instead by sitting right here,” you patted the kitchen counter that was currently free of anything, “and keep me company?”
“I could do that,” she smiled, stepping away from you just enough that she could hop up and place herself in the open space you had previously cleared for her. 
Once she was settled, you took a step forward, standing between her legs, “You’ll be the best helper from right here.”
She dipped her head down, stealing a quick kiss from your lips. “Anything else you need from me?”
“I just need you to sit there and tell me I look pretty,” you told her, your arms slipping around her as you hid your face in her neck. 
“Oooo, complimenting my beautiful and gorgeous girlfriend. My speciality,” she grinned, her hands running up and down your back soothingly. 
As Leah sat there, with her cheek resting against the top of your head, she whispered all the sweet nothings you wanted to hear into your ear. It helped calm your racing mind as you started to refocus on the task at hand. 
Reluctantly, you stepped out of Leah’s embrace, one hand sitting on her thigh as you turned and took in the kitchen, mentally planning out what dish needed attention next. You left Leah to attend to your dishes, asking Leah to taste things here and there. In your mind, since she was the pickiest eater on the team, if it passed Leah’s taste tests, then it would be good enough for the others. 
If anyone asked, you would deny it, but you literally almost cried in relief when Alessia and Emily showed up almost two hours later. Your friends being the extra sets of hands you desperately needed in the kitchen. With their help, things started moving much more smoothly. 
As the day went on, your teammates slowly started to filter in with drinks, other homemade dishes, or desserts in hand. Now that you had helpers, Leah was free to play hostess, checking in on everyone and making sure you were supplied with drinks that Katie was kind enough to mix for everyone. A few of your teammates offered their help, but with the kitchen being as small as it was, you, Emily, and Alessia were better off handling the food. 
Steadily, the house filled with smells of all the different food as things were almost done. The space in your apartment was becoming almost nonexistent, but it was obvious your teammates were enjoying themselves if their laughs and screams were anything to go by. Despite what some would consider chaos, this is exactly what you needed. 
As the last few dishes were either finishing up or were being reheated, you three finally took a nice break to catch up on drinks and gossip. 
Alessia was telling a story about something Tooney had gotten herself into back in the day when you felt a pair of arms slide around your waist from behind.
“Everything alright, sweetheart?”
You turned your head to find Leah flashing you a bright grin. Her smile was one of the reasons you were enjoying yourself so much despite all the crazy and hard work from prepping and cooking over the past few days. 
“Everything is perfect,” you told her, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she said, squeezing you a little tighter. She held you in her arms, joining in on your conversation with Emily and Alessia, only disappearing once to refill your drink for you. 
When the timer went off from the oven, you felt like a huge weight was lifted off of your shoulders. Your friends chuckled as they watched you slip out of your girlfriend’s arms and back to the oven.
With a huge sigh of relief, you slipped on the oven mitts and went to grab the star of the night. While having a turkey was a staple for the holiday, you decided to forgo it to keep your sanity for the day. 
Instead, you decided to try your hand at something new that you felt would garner much more appreciation. After triple checking that everything was cooked and ready, you gave Leah a nod to get everyone ready to eat. 
“Dinner is ready!” she called, watching as a few of the young ones and Katie started playfully shoving each other in their haste to get first in line for food. You watched as everyone lined up buffet style and served themselves before looking for a space to eat, either at the table, on the couch, or up against the wall.
After everyone else was served, you grabbed a plate and started making a plate for your girlfriend as she went to reprimand the young ones for making a mess on the coffee table.
“This is so good, Y/N! Can you cook for us all the time?” Beth said around a mouthful of food. 
You rolled your eyes, “I already do, Beth,” you reminded her, thinking of all the days Beth would show up unannounced, looking for food and company since Viv moved to Manchester. 
“True, but you don’t make all this,” she countered, stealing a piece of bread off of Steph’s plate when the Australian was dealing with Kyra trying to overload her plate with food. 
“Thanksgiving special, so enjoy this while you can because I will not be cooking like this for some time,” you said, handing Leah her plate of food, when she came back. 
“Aren’t you eating?” she asked after thanking you, taking a seat so you could then sit in her lap. It was a little harder for her to eat this way, but she really just wanted you close. She felt like she barely saw you today as soon as people started showing up. 
“Maybe later, I just need a sec,” you told her, urging her to eat while the food was still hot. Honestly, you had quite a fill from taste testing and right now you were content to sit back and watch everyone enjoy themselves as long as you had a drink in hand.
“I’m a bit surprised there weren’t Smileys on the menu, with Leah living here and all,” Alessia said, digging into her food. 
You chuckled, seeing Leah’s mouth fall upon at the open attack, “We’re working on expanding her horizons on her food.”
Your girlfriend turned to you, her face full of betrayal, “I eat more than just Smileys!”
“Oh, I know, babe. Why do you think I made a ham instead of a turkey? Now you’ll be set with a ham sandwich for like the next week,” you said, grabbing a napkin to wipe the bit of food that spilled from the side of her mouth.
“Lucky! Now you don’t have to cook. Not that you really did much of that before.”
“I can cook!” Leah nearly shouted, sitting back from her food, glaring at her teammates.
“No, Leah. You can heat things up. There’s a big difference,” Lia said, jumping on the train to tease her best friend.
“I would take more offense to that, but you lot are just jealous that I have a girlfriend who is not only insanely pretty but loves to cook for me,” Leah said, sitting up proudly and sending you a quick wink.
“I mean she’s not my girlfriend, but she does keep me fed pretty regularly,” Beth reminded her. 
“And for that comment, Beth, you are not allowed to take any leftovers home with you,” Leah asserted, a satisfactory smirk in place when her friend immediately tried to backtrack all statements.
“Are we going to go around the table and say what we’re grateful for like they do in movies?” Kyra asked, switching topics before Leah and Beth’s banter could continue. 
You waved your hand, dismissing the idea while you took a rather large swig of your drink. The alcohol started to kick in and relax you more now that all of your responsibilities for the day were now over, “No, not really. I don’t know about you, Foxy, but we never really did that at my house. It sounds sweet in practice, but it was pretty awkward the one year we tried it. You are more than welcome to share if you want, but don’t feel like you have to.”
“I, for one, have something to say,” Leah stated, chasing her last bite with a bit of water before she cleared her throat. “It may sound corny and everything, but I want to say I’m thankful for having all of you in my life, especially this one right next to me. After doing my ACL, having you lot support me through it all and being able to share things like this is a dream.”
“Stop being so emotional, you’re going to make me cry,” Katie shouted, pretending to fan away imaginary tears in her eyes.
“Okay, okay, one more thing. Last one to clean up after themself is on dish duty!” Leah exclaimed, taking the last bite from her plate before rushing to put the dish in the sink.
From there it was a mad rush to the sink, as a few snuck around, packing some food to go home with them as the chaos reigned around them. 
You continued to watch everything unfold with rapt interest, refilling your glass and cheersing with Foxy who was following your lead. With these people you considered a second family, you truly felt a sense of home, healing that little patch of homesickness you had been feeling lately. 
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rose-petles · 7 months ago
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You’re sick -> N.RK [ 니키 ]
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Warning → No warning.
Paring → Caring-Boyfriend!Niki X Sick-Girlfriend! Reader.
Synopsis → Niki takes care of you as your sick in the night.
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You woke up, it was in the early morning as you looked at the clock. It eased 02:34AM, you felt your stomach clenching and you before you knew it you were running into the bathroom covering your mouth.
When you reached the bathroom you threw up in the toilet, Your boyfriend Niki woke up to your little feet steps tunnkng to the bathroom. He groaned as he got up and heard you throwing up.
He sat up and rushed over to you, he saw your shirt sticking to your body, sweat. He knelt down behind you and gently patted your back. He took the hair tie that was on his wrist and put tied up your hair, "I got you love," You heard his words of encouragement.
He continued to rub your back, "Its okay love, i'm here. Let it all out love.." She soothed, holding you until you finished throwing up.
You flushed the toilet with your shaky hands and laid your head down on his chest, "Let me get you some water love.." he said rubbing your back and getting up from behind you.
He held the cup and for you as she let you take sips after you laid beck on her and let her hold you while you still feel a bit nauseous. "Still feeling sick..?" Niki asked rubbing your back.
You sighed, "Just a little bit."
He nodded and rubbed your shoulders gently, Niki pulled away so he could check your temperature.
He gently placed her hand on your forehead, "You definitely have a fever. C'mon baby, lets get you back to bed..."
He then stood up then helped you to stand up and walked to the sink. He picked you up and placed you on the counter, he helped you brushed your teeth and let you rinse out your mouth. He helped you to bed and got you a new shirt to change into.
Your eyes grew heavy from the exhaustion and you felt like you didn't have the strength to open them so you ended up closing them. While you dozed off to sleep Niki grabbed the empty trash can and placed it near the bed.
He also placed a cool cloth over your forehead, causing you to hum contently. "Thank you, love.." you mumbled tiredly.
Niki then climbed into bed beside you and wrapped an arm around you. "You're welcome, princess. How are you feeling? Sick at all?"
"Kinda. But my stomach hurts more than anything."
You groaned.
Niki slid his hand under your shirt and began to rub your stomach. He kept his touch light and soft so you would only feel relief.
"Is this better?" He wondered to which you cracked a small smile. "Mhmm.. Yeah, it feels nice. Thank you."
He kissed your neck softly. "What else can I do, darling?"
"Just keep doing this. Trust me, you're making me feel better already." you weakly smile.
Niki felt relieved to hear you say that because she hates seeing you so sick and miserable and whatever he can do to help you he’s always willing to do in a heartbeat.
"I'm glad to hear you say that, baby. Get some sleep. I'm here for you if you need me. I promise I'll take good care of you until you feel better."
"Thank you. I love you." You muttered as you began to fall asleep, grateful that you weren't alone in a time like this.
"I love you too," he kissed your warm cheek lovingly.
"Sleep tight my y/n."
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Copyright © 2024 rose-petle/Rostle. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED | Do NOT edit, copy, translate or repost any of my work without permission.
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azrielbrainrot · 4 months ago
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"memorising their favourite things and treating them when they have a bad day" with azriel or cassian please 😊
A Good Day
Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader
Word Count: 1,1k
A/N: I ended up choosing Azriel because I'm extremely biased. I hope you enjoy and thank you for sending it in!
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From sleeping in and being late for work to getting a stain on your new shirt over lunch, today hasn't been a good day. The gloomy weather didn't help either, you were always partial to the rain, there really wasn't a best feeling than snuggling into your bed with a good book and the sound of the rain lightly hitting your window, but today's rain was too heavy and it was too cold, making it hard to be outside, and of course with your luck today was precisely the day Rhys needed you to check on several businesses in Velaris, keeping you out for most of the day.
You had gotten home a couple of hours ago and had since taken a long warm bath, but your feet were still frozen and your head still aches. You had barely had a second to yourself since you woke up startled by how late it was and it was all taking a toll on you. It had truly not been your day. You should just go to bed early and rest, hoping tomorrow the sky would clear and you could take it easier.
A soft knock at your bedroom door brings you out of your thoughts, quickly putting on a robe over your nightgown before opening it to reveal Azriel, a crease manifesting between his brows as he takes you in.
“Hard day?”
You simply let out a heavy sigh, opening the door wider for him to come in and walking back to sit at the end of your bed. His shadows were already scattering around the room as he closed the door, some reaching for you, always stopping short of touching you lest Azriel reprimanded them for acting on their own. You take the opportunity to study him while he stands in front of you, his hazel eyes searching the room, a spy's habit you suppose.
Azriel had been out all day as well, you heard him tell Rhys that he would be following up on some leads on the other side of the court, - where you were pretty sure it was snowing, - but no one would have guessed. The bastard looked as perfect as he always did, there wasn't a hair out of place and he wasn't even a little wet from the rain.
His eyes catch yours as you take him in, and you don't have it in you to look away, letting his eyes burn into yours. You didn't have the chance to do it often, it was a shame really, his eyes were achingly beautiful, as was the rest of him.
“Are you sick?” His voice startles you for a moment, forgetting that the world kept spinning as you got lost in the hazel. He had moved closer without you noticing, you now had to crane your neck all the way to keep eye contact. When you still don't answer him, he reaches out a hand, carefully placing it on your forehead, feeling for a change in temperature. “Just tired?”
“Do I look that bad?”
If you even looked half as exhausted and out of it as you felt, it couldn't be a pretty sight. For some reason you were also finding it hard to focus on anything but him; how warm his hand had felt against your skin, the attentiveness in his eyes despite the hint of amusement also present.
“You look beautiful,” he muses, a small smile growing on his lips.
“When have you become such a sweet talker, shadowsinger?”
“Just telling the truth.”
You let out a small hum, not knowing what else to say. It didn't sound like he was lying or teasing you, but you also knew beautiful was too generous for your current state. There was also no reason for him to be complimenting you out of nowhere, was there?
Luckily, a few shadows gather in his hand, saving you from trying to figure out how to respond. It doesn't take long for a box of pastries to manifest before your eyes, the sweet smell taking some of your edge off instantly. You had always found it fascinating how he could carry anything within them, even more when you were the one hiding there with him.
Azriel places the box in your hands, watching you open it and gape at the inside with thinly veiled amusement.
“What's this?”
“Chocolate muffins from the bakery by the Sidra,” he explains even though you could see for yourself. “They're your favorite, right?”
You nod up at him, your eyes darting between his and the open box sitting on your lap, filled with delicious muffins, the ones that are extremely hard to get since they always sell out early.
“Why did you get them?”
“For you.”
“But why?”
You can't help but repeat dumbly. It wasn't your birthday and you don't think you've missed any other important date. There was also a strange tremble in your heart, at the thought that he remembered which ones were your favorite muffins, you don't even remember when you mentioned it.
“I heard you were running around all day in the rain,” he says with a gentle smile. “Just thought you deserved it.”
“Oh.”
You look down at the muffins one more time, a wave of inexplicable emotions washing over you, some threatening to suffocate you in their intensity.
“You've been really nice to me recently,” you murmur. It felt like you were missing something, and the glint in his eyes doesn't help with your suspicions.
“Have I not always been nice to you?”
“I suppose you have.”
He has, hasn't he? Azriel has been a constant by your side for years. Always ready to help you in every way he can, letting you drag him along to anywhere your little heart desires, even taking care of you when you are tired. You had always thought of it as him being a good friend, but you might have been somewhat mistaken.
“I'll let you rest now,” Azriel says, patting your head softly as he often did, except now it felt different, butterflies erupting in your stomach as he did. “Good night.”
“Good night,” you answer absentmindedly, watching him walk to the door, his shadows gathering over his form again.
Azriel leaves before you can say anything more, throwing a breathtaking smile your way and closing the door behind him on the way out, and the whole time you can't stop wondering why you never noticed the way he watches you and listens to everything you tell him attentively, the way his shadows reach for you, and the way his hand lingers on yours.
Oh.
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itneverendshere · 8 months ago
Note
the first relapse being the most scariest thing you’ve seen. sarah’s even calling you about him like “dads trying to get his doctor on the line just in case he od’s”
added this to what i'd already summarized in this ask!! hope everyone enjoys the angst 😔🫂 it’s a little long (around 7.1k)
death by a thousand cuts - r.c
pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) warnings: substance abuse.
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Ward’s sitting at the dining table, not bothering to glance up from his phone when he walks in. That look—so cold, dismissive—always sets something off in Rafe.
His father’s eyes stay locked on the screen like the phone’s more of a son than he ever was.
“What’s wrong?” Rafe asks, already knowing this isn’t a normal night.
Ward doesn’t answer right away, only sighs as if Rafe being here is another weight on his shoulders.
“Your mother called today.”
He doesn’t have to ask which mother, Ward’s new wife has nothing to do with this. His real mom, who left.
His brain malfunctions. Static white noise, then, a flood. No rhythm, just shit pouring in. Why now? What did she say? Is she sick? Dead? Alive? Drunk? Remarried?
The name mom tries to form in his mouth and dies halfway out, too human. That’s not what she is in this house. 
“What’d she want?”
Did she ask about me?
“She says she wants to see you. You and your sisters.”
Rafe’s eyes narrow, his heart pounding harder now. The audacity of it. There's pressure behind his eyes, no tears—he doesn’t feel sad. 
She always did this—popped back in when it was convenient for her, like they were just part of her life she could pick up and drop whenever she felt like it.
When was the last time? A couple of years? It doesn’t matter, it's insulting. She always pulled this shit. 
“No. I’m not doing this again.” 
“Rafe—”
“No, I said no.” That all familiar burn expands in his chest. He stands there, fists clenched. “She doesn't give a fuck about us. So, no. I’m not seeing her.”
God forbid she dial his number and hear what he really thinks.
Ward looks up, calm as ever, but there's that sternest in his eyes—the one that always makes Rafe feel like a kid who’s stepped out of line.
“She’s still your mother.”
“My mother?” Rafe lets out a disbelieving bitter laugh, “She fucking left us. She’s not my mother."
Ward rises from his seat. “Watch your mouth.”
There it is, the typical shutdown, respect was ever earned in this house, not demanded. Of course Ward defends her, they're not to different after all and it's easier than facing what she did.
“Watch my mouth?” Rafe barks back, voice tearing straight from the pits of his personal hell. “I watched her leave me every time she got bored. And you—you didn’t do shit! You let it happen, over and over.”
“That’s enough, Rafe.”
No, it's not.
“You gonna defend her? That’s what this is? You gonna act like she didn’t walk out on your kids and you didn’t stand there doin' nothing?"
“Stop blaming everyone else for your problems,” Ward snaps, louder now, the mask slipping. “Grow up. She left. That’s it. You’re still here crying about it, grow up."
Rafe's heart is beating inside his skull. His chest tightens like someone’s squeezing the air out of him.
"You don't get it. You never did. She fucked me up. She fucked all of us up, and you're still acting like it's nothing."
His mind is spinning, flashing back to the nights he was too high to breathe, too strung out to care if he woke up the next day.
“I’m not doing this again, dad. I’m not.”
Ward’s gaze turns cold. “She’s trying now. That has to count for something.”
“Trying?” Rafe gris out, low and brutal. “Trying?”
All those years of broken promises, all the times he was left wondering what the fuck he did wrong to make her leave—and now Ward wants him to sit down like it’s a fucking normal family reunion. 
“I don’t care what you think,” Ward says sharply. “You’re going to see her. That’s final.”
“I don’t care what you think, Rafe. This isn’t up for discussion. You will see her, and that’s final.”
“No fucking way.” He growls, chest rising, holding back a scream. “You can’t make me do this. I’m not going to sit there and pretend like everything’s okay when she’s the reason I turned into. You’re no better than she is,” he spits.
Ward’s eyes narrow dangerously, but he continues, “You let her walk all over us. You let her leave me, us, and you never said a word. You’re a shitty father."
Ward’s jaw tightens, that danger behind his eyes burning full. “Don’t you dare talk to me like that.”
’ll talk to you however the hell I want,” Rafe snarls. “You want me to act like a man? Then fucking hear it. You didn’t protect me. You watched it all go to hell and let me take the fall for everything.”
“You were the problem,” Ward barks, venom surfacing. “She didn’t know how to handle you. Neither did I. You were a disaster—you did that. Not her.”
Rafe laughs but something just died inside him.
“That’s real fucking funny, coming from the guy who was never around enough to know who the fuck I was. You two were and are the fucking problem because you can’t let go of her.”
“This isn’t about you. Sarah wants to see her. Weezie deserves to have a mother.”
Rafe shakes his head, mouth twisted in incredulity. “You think that makes it better? Using them makes this right?”
“Grow the fuck up, Rafe. You will meet her, or you can leave this house right now.”
All the intensive work he's put in, what he clawed through to get clean, the shit he's tried to fix, it's slipping right through his fingers.
He can’t be here, not like this. He’s out the door before he even knows what he’s doing. Door slams. Feet moving. No plan, only that itch under his skin is back—the one he thought was gone, that’s how much control his parents have over him.
Rafe’s hands are still shaking when he gets into his truck, slamming the door harder than he means to. At this point, he's not getting enough air in his lungs. His thoughts are overlapping, crashing into each other at once. The fight with his father keeps replaying in his head, louder and louder, until he can’t hear anything else.
His fingers go numb on the wheel. Jaw clenched so tight his molars ache. His whole body’s tensed preparing for another hit. Ward's voice, telling him he’s the problem. His hands are shaking worse now, and there’s only one thought pounding through his mind: 
He can’t go to you like this.
The thought of walking through your door, this messed up, makes him feel sick. You’ve seen him at his worst before, but this… This isdangerous, the before. Before you, clarity and peace. He can’t let you see him like this, the old Rafe who almost lost everything.
You don’t need to see that. You don’t deserve it.
He knows where he can go instead. Somewhere he shouldn’t, where he swore he’d never go again. Unfortunaly, right now, it feels like the only place that makes sense. His body's buzzing with leftover adrenaline and anger, he needs it to stop on way or another.
So he turns the key, letting instinct and bad decisions take over. There’s a place his body remembers even if his mind’s screaming at him to turn back.
Rafe knows the back roads by heart, even though it’s been years.
He pulls up to the small shack Barry calls home, the lights still on, music thumping from inside. Nothing’s changed. The same rundown place, the same shitty cars parked out front, the same smell of smoke and liquor in the air. Time never moved here.
He sits there for a second, engine ticking, heart pounding, fists locked in his lap. He shouldn’t be here. He knows that. 
Doesn’t matter.
Rafe steps out, heading into his grave with his hands shoved in his pockets, eyes on the dirt, trying to stay numb. When he steps inside, the familiar smell of stale beer and weed hits him like a truck, bringing back memories he thought he’d buried.
Barry’s lounging on the couch, a joint hanging from his mouth, lazily flipping through channels on the TV.
“Country Club,” he drawls, exhaling smoke. This is funny to him, a joke. “Didn’t expect to see your rich ass again. Thought you traded this dump for something shinier. Where's your pretty little girlfriend?”
He flinches when Barry mentions you. But he can’t walk out now, he’s already here. It’s already happening.
“I need something,” he mumbles, shame burning up his eyes but he doesn’t look away, already regretting this but not enough to stop.
Barry raises a brow, that smug twitch in his face. “Yeah? You always do. What is it this time—daddy made you cry again?”
Rafe’s teeth grind. “Just give it to me.”
Barry leans back, flicking ash onto the floor, watching him like an animal in a cage.
“You sure?” he says slowly, dragging out every syllable, some fucked up moral test. “You’re about to piss all that clean time down the drain? Thought you were past this shit.”
“I said,” Rafe breathes, voice shaky, “give it to me.”
There’s a pause, Barry's sizing him up.
Then, with a shrug he pretends it's out of his hands and he's doing Rafe a favor. He gets up, disappearing into the back room. Rafe waits, heart pounding in his ears, staring at the floor, trying not to think about what he’s doing, what this means.
Barry comes back a minute later, a small bag of coke in his hand. He tosses it onto the table in front of him.
Bag hits the table. Cash. Grab. Move. All muscle memory.
“Knock yourself out.”
Rafe's already digging in, fingers acting on autopilot as he shoves another roll of cash toward Barry. He knows this is stupid, reckless, it's going to hurt you. But he needs to forget. Just for a little while.
His hands stop shaking the second he takes that first line, it burns like ice. And then—nothing.
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You’re already drained when you step through the front door of the house, kicking off your shoes and throwing your bag onto the couch.
The sticky summer air is clinging to your skin, and all you want is a cold shower and to crash in bed. 
The day’s been dragging—Hell day. Work was loud and messy and endless and all you’ve wanted—all day—was to hear from him.
You haven’t gottena text from him since this morning, which would be fine. It should be fine. He’s busy. You’re busy. But it isn’t. 
There’s this nagging feeling in your chest, something’s off.
“Hey!”
Monica calls from the kitchen as you grab a glass of water. She’s scrolling through her phone, half-distracted. Milo’s at kindergarten.
“Hey,” you mumble back. “Everything alright?”
She shrugs, not looking up. “Yeah, mostly.” She pauses, frowning like she’s trying to piece something together. “I think I saw Rafe’s truck earlier. Over by Barry’s place.”
Your heart drops before you understand what that means. You blink, trying to process what she just said. “Barry’s?”
“Yeah, you know. The guy who used to sell—Whatever.” Monica shrugs again, more casual than you feel. “I was driving back from work, and I swear it was Rafe’s truck parked outside Barry’s house.”
No. No. No.
“You’re sure?”
“Looked like his truck,” your sister nods, “Thought it was weird. Figured maybe he was helping someone out or something.”
You know better.
A cold sweat breaks out over your skin.
Rafe talked about Barry, sometimes. He confied in you that when things were bad—really bad—Barry was the one who kept him hooked, pulling him deeper. He told you everything about those years when he was drowning in addicatio.
Barry’s name came up more than once.
And if his truck’s outside, you know something’s wrong.
It’s like a pit in your stomach, this gnawing feeling that’s been sitting with you all day. 
“What? Why’s that such a big deal?”
You swallow, trying to keep your voice steady, but it’s impossible. “Rafe doesn’t… he doesn’t go there anymore. He hasn’t in years.”
Now she looks up. “Oh. Shit. You think—?”
“I don’t know,” you lie. You do. You just don’t want to say it out loud. 
You pull out your phone, fingers wobbly as you open your messages, scrolling through the last texts from Rafe, but there’s nothing out of the ordinary. He’s usually better at checking in, especially when he knows you’ve had a long day. But today? Nothing.
You stare at your screen, debating if you should call him. But deep down, you already know something’s happened. He wouldn’t go to Barry’s unless things were really bad.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” your sister offers, but her voice is hesitant, “Maybe he was stopping by. It doesn’t mean—”
She doesn’t finish her train of thought and you don’t need her to. You know what it mean, feel it in your bones. He’s back in that dark place, using—And he didn’t come to you.
Why didn’t he come to you?
“I need to go.”
Your voice cracks on the last word but you’re already moving, keys in hand.
"Wait—what? Where are you going?”
“I need to find Rafe.”
She steps toward you, alarmed now. “Is it really that serious?"
“If he’s at Barry’s, it’s bad.”
Rafe had told you everything—the ugly details about the years he spent losing himself, the drugs, the fights. He had opened up to you after your first time together. And for the past two years you’d seen him, the real Rafe, the one who tried so damn hard to be better.
And yet, he didn’t call you. Didn’t text or let you help.
Your mind is racing as you drive. You think about how good things have been with him—how far he’s come. He’s not the guy he used to be. He doesn’t party like he used to, doesn’t numb everything with lines of coke or bottles of whiskey. He told you about his time in rehab, how scared he was of becoming that version of himself again.
Something must’ve happened.
Why didn’t he tell you? The thought is suffocating and recurring.
You know him—he’s reckless and impulsive sometimes, sometimes still smokes weed to take the edge off, but this…This is worse.
You don’t remember the red lights or the turns. 
It had to be Ward.
His always had this chokehold on him, making him feel like he’s never good enough. And whenever his mom gets brought up—whenever she’s even mentioned—it fucks with him in ways you're still trying to understand.
You slam your fist against the steering wheel, frustrated.
He’s dealing with this alone. And now he’s gone back to Barry. To coke. To everything that almost killed him before. You pull up to Barry’s place, stomach churning. Rafe’s truck is parked haphazardly outside, and your heart skips a beat.
He’s dealing with this alone, and now he’s gone back to Barry. To coke. To everything that almost killed him before. You pull up to his place, your stomach churning. You can see Rafe’s truck parked haphazardly outside, and your heart skips a beat.
He’s here.
He’s here, and he didn’t come to you.
You sit there trying to calm down, trying to figure out what the hell you’re going to say when you see him.
You get out of the car and practically run to Barry’s front door. You know this place, the people who come here and what they’re looking for. You’re pretty sure your dad spent half his life here back when Barry’s dad still ran the business.
You don’t bother knocking. You push the door open.
Barry’s on the couch, looking up when you walk in, and you see Rafe—sitting in the corner, eyes bloodshot, jaw clenched.
He looks like a ghost.
Barry snickers from the couch, taking a drag from his joint. “Well, well, look who it is. Didn’t think I’d see the two of you here together.”
“Shut the fuck up, Barry,” you snap, crossing the room. Your eyes are locked on Rafe. “What are you doing here?”
“W-What?”
“Baby, look at you.”
He tries to stand, his movements slow, his body isn’t responding the way he wants it to. His eyes are bloodshot, unfocused, pupils blown wide, and he’s swaying.
“I just... I needed to clear my head,” he mumbles, slurring. His hand goes to his hair, trembling, and he can’t meet your eyes. “It’s not—”
“It’s not what?” You feel your heart breaking with every word, the cracks widening as you take in the mess of him.
His clothes are disheveled, his face pale, his hands twitching.
“I d-didn’t... didn’ wanna...” His tongue feels heavy in his mouth. “Didn’ want you t’see me like... like this,” he slurs, voice scratchy and low. He finally meets your eyes for a second before dropping his gaze again. “Didn’ want you thinkin’ I was still..."
“You’re not that guy anymore,” you cut in softly, even though right now, he looks so like him. “But you’re acting like him.”
is head drops. Shoulders sag. “Didn’ know... wha’ else t’do.”
“And you didn’t think to come to me?” Your voice cracks. “You went to Barry instead of me?”
“Hey now—”
“I told you to shut the fuck up,” you snap, glaring at Barry. Then softer, back to Rafe, “You always come to me. Why’d you run here? Why would you go back to this?” You glance around, disgusted. “You’re better than this. Come on. Get in the car. We’ll figure it out.”
Rafe shakes his head slowly, blinking hard, trying to clear the fog. “C-Can’t... can’t do this right now.”
“Yes you can. Why would you run here? Why would you go back to this?” You glance at Barry, who’s watching the whole scene with a smirk on his face, enjoying every second of your heartbreak.
"Can’t… can’t be with you right now.”
“Why?” 
“Jus’... too much,” he breathes. “Hurts too much. I—” His voice breaks. “Didn’ wanna you t’see... me like this.”
“Then get in the car,” you plead. “We can figure it out together.”
He sways again, holding onto the couch. “I... I can’t,” he whispers so quietly you barely hear it.
It pushes something inside you.
You'll regret it later. If he doesn’t want your help, he doesn’t want you. And if he doesn’t want you right now he doesn’t deserve to want you when he’s better. 
"You can either get in the car and fight with me, or you can stay here. But if you stay—”
“Y-You’ll... you’ll leave?” he mumbles, squinting like it’s taking all the effort in the world just to stay present. “Leave me?”
“I didn’t say that—”
“E-everyon leaves...right?"
He’s never said anything like that to you before.
“I’m not leaving you, but if you stay here, with him,” you jerk your head in Barry’s direction, “I can’t help you. I can’t pull you out of this if you don’t want to get out.”
You know you can’t fix it for him. He has to make that choice willingly.
“I love you, but I won't watch you destroy yourself.”
You think you’ve gotten through to him, because his eyes soften behind all that darkness in his pupils. But then he shakes his head again, looking at the floor, making his decision.
“I... I don’ wanna hurt you,” The words are sticky, they’re fighting to come out. “I dunno how t’stop.”
Your heart breaks a little more at that.
“Yes you do, baby. You do. You just need to believe it.”
If he doesn’t come with you, you don’t know where this ends for him.
He’s stuck—frozen in place and time, trapped by whatever war is raging in his head. And you realize, as much as it kills you, no matter how deep your love runs, you can’t force him to choose you.
“You have to decide,” you say quietly, voice breaking. “Me or this. You can’t have both.”
Rafe lifts his head, eyes red and glassy. For a second, hope blooms pitifully in your chest. Maybe he’ll say something—anything—that makes this okay.
Except, he doesn’t. He just stands there, torn apart by his demons, his lips pressed into a thin line.
You feel the pit in your stomach grow deeper.
“Okay,” you nod, holding back tears. “I guess that’s my answer.”
You turn and walk out the door, heart shattering with every inch of distance you put between you and him. You don't look back, knowing that if you do, you’ll drag him out yourself, and you can’t do that.
As you get into your car, the sobs come anyway. You don’t want to leave him. God, you don’t want to. But he didn’t choose you.
Rafe doesn’t register the sound of the door slamming behind you.
To him, he's watching everything happen from somewhere far away, body senseless. You said something, you were upset—he knows that much—but the words never hit him, only floated around. He sinks back down into the chair, staring at the floor, heart racing but completely detached.
The room is spinning a faster, but he can’t feel anything. Can’t let himself feel anything. It’s better this way. Safer.
You left.
He knows it happened, but it doesn’t mean anything to him right now. He can’t process it in this state, when the drugs are still in his system, making it seem like he's underwater. He blinks a few times, trying to get his brain to catch up, but it’s not working.
Barry’s voice is somewhere in the background, laughing about something, he doesn’t hear him either, the world’s on mute. His body’s still buzzing from the high, fingers twitching, but inside? He's as empty as he gets.
Hours pass, maybe. Time doesn’t exist here when he’s this far gone, but the light changes through the window, it could be minutes or days for all he knows. He drifts in and out, his head heavy, eyes closing, but sleep never comes, only darkness. He did too many lines.
At some point, Rafe wakes up—if you can call it that. His body feels like it weights over two hundred pounds, his head is spinning, his mouth dry and sour. He blinks against the light, his vision blurry, trying to recall where the fuckl he is. 
It takes a second for everything to catch up.
To realize he’s at Barry’s.
It hits him all at once. You. You were here. You were mad. And then you were gone.
A sick, sinking feeling crawls up his throat. He sits up too fast, nearly thowing up in the process. Fuck. He drags a hand over his face, his thoughts still sluggish. Y
ou left. You walked out, and he… he didn’t stop you. Didn’t try to.
Why didn’t he stop you?
Before he can dwell about it, Barry saunters in, a easy-going grin on his face, holding a beer in one hand, a joint in the other. He takes one look at Rafe, slouched and disoriented, and lets out a mocking laugh.
“Good mornin'," Barry drawls, leaning against the doorframe, “Look who’s finally awake. You done fucked it up, Country Club.”
Rafe doesn’t say anything.
Barry raises an eyebrow, taking a drag from the joint, shaking his head. “Damn, man. Thought you were smarter than that.”
Rafe just stares at the floor, his stomach twisting. He can’t remember exactly what he said to you. But the look on your face… he can’t forget that. The disappointment. The hurt.
Barry chuckles, settling down on the couch across from him. “What was it? You running your mouth again, or did she just get tired of you being a fuckup?”
The shame is settling in, creeping up his spine. He doesn’t want to hear this. But Barry keeps going.
“Should’ve seen it coming, man,” He continues, “Girls like that? She was bound to leave eventually.”
If he felt strong enough to move, he would’ve pummeled that joint out of his mouth, his teeth following next.
Who the fuck did he think he was? He knows Barry’s trying to get under his skin, it’s working. He feels sick.
“You done fucked it up, Country Club,” Barry repeats, leaning back with a satisfied smirk. “You’re back here. Same old Rafe.”
Same old Rafe. 
He told himself he’d never end up here again. He swore he was done with this. Done with the drugs, done with the guy he used to be. Now he’s right back where he started. He let you see it.
He doesn’t know how to fix this. Doesn’t know if he can fix this. But the one thing he does know? He should’ve crawled after you.
Rafe doesn’t say a word. His hands are already moving, reaching for the small bag of coke on the table. His fingers tremble as they close around it, the weight of the plastic barely registering in his hand. 
Barry watches him, that same shit eating smile never leaving his face, taking another drag of his joint, exhaling a cloud of smoke with a low chuckle. He’s not surprised.
"Of course," Barry mutters, shaking his head in amusement. “Of course, you're takin’ that shit with you.”
Rafe’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t fight him. He can feel Barry’s eyes on him, feel the judgment radiating off him.
He stuffs the bag in his jacket pocket, standing up on shaky legs, stumbling toward the door. His mind is on autopilot, moving without him.
"Attaboy, Country Club," Barry calls after him, voice dripping with condescension, laughter bubbling up from deep in his chest. “Just keep runnin’. That’s what you’re good at, right?”
Rafe’s hand tightens on the doorknob, teeth grinding together. He can’t look at Barry—he can’t look at any of this—so he does what he always does. He walks away, out of the door, into the night, the bag burning a hole in his pocket.
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It’s been two weeks since you last saw him.
Fourteen endless days of silence. Your messages unanswered and unread. You told him you were leaving, but it wasn’t a threat or a goodbye. You only wanted him to choose himself.
You can’t stop thinking about him. It physically hurts.
Rafe's everywhere and nowhere all at once. He’s in the spaces he used to fill, in the empty side of your bed, in the mirror when your face crumples before you can stop it.
You ache with it, not figuratively. It’s a dull, consuming throb behind your ribs that refuses to let you breathe.
You think about where he might be. If he’s safe. If he’s even conscious. If you still cross his mind—or if he’s already let go.
You miss him. God, you miss him.
You’ve haven't been doing well at work. When you try to concentrate, a memory of him sneaks in—wild-eyed, unreachable—and your hands start shaking. Twice you’ve called in sick just to lie in bed and cry until your chest physically hurts. It’s pathetic.
You reached out to Sarah a few times. She was trying to be honest, but it didn’t help. “He’s gone off the grid,” she said a week ago. “Not talking to anyone."
That was a week ago.
Here you are—perched on your bed, phone in hand, debating whether to try again. One more message or one last call, it can’t end like this. Rafe's the love of your life. That hasn’t changed.
Sarah’s name flashes on the screen, and you nearly drop the damn thing. “Sarah?”
“Hey,” You can hear it immediately—something’s wrong. “Are you home right now?”
Your stomach knots. “Yeah. Why? What happened?”
You hear her inhale shakily. “It’s Rafe. He’s—fuck, it’s bad. Really bad.”
“What do you mean bad? What happened?”
“Dad’s calling his private doctor,” she says, her voice beginning to crack. “He thinks he might OD.”
You go cold.
“The doc's not answering,” she rushes on, “Dad’s freaking out. Rafe’s been using nonstop—he’s not making sense anymore. I didn’t know who else to call. I thought maybe if you—"
"I’m coming,” you say, cutting her off, already on your feet.
You hang up and bolt out the door, keys in hand, not fully aware of the motion. The drive to Tannyhill is a quick. You can’t feel your hands on the wheel. You can’t hear the road beneath your tires.
If Sarah is calling you…it's bad.
You’re already sprinting up the steps when the door swings open.
The house is quiet.
Sarah’s by the stairs, face blotchy and eyes bloodshot. She nods toward the living room.
And that’s when you see him.
He’s slumped on the couch, his body limp, eyes half-open but glazed over, he’s not even seeing what’s in front of him. His skin is clammy, his hands twitching every few seconds, and there’s a sheen of sweat on his forehead.
Ward’s pacing the room, his phone pressed to his ear. “I don’t care if he’s busy, get him here now. He’s going to fucking die.”
“Rafe?”
Nothing.
No flicker of recognition. He’s not seeing you—he’s not seeing anything.
Sarah’s standing behind you now, “He won’t talk to us."
You drop to your knees beside him, swallowing back the panic, fingers brushing his arm.
“Rafe,” you breathe. “It’s me. I’m here, okay? Look at me.”
But there’s nothing. Just silence.
His head lolls to the side, his eyes flick to yours—but they’re vacant, it's like looking into someone else’s body. The person you know, the person you love, isn’t there. You keep whispering his name, pleading for him to wake up, to do something, but nothing works.
Ward's still on the phone, his voice a angry hum in the background.
His eyes flick over to you every few minutes, but he doesn’t say anything. Sarah’s standing off to the side, her arms wrapped around herself, face puffy from crying. You can see how scared she is, you’re glad they got Weezie out of the house before she could see this. 
After what feels like an eternity, the doctor rushes in, followed by a paramedic with a bag of medical equipment. He's already kneeling beside Rafe, muttering instructions, checking his pulse, prying his eyes open.
“Jesus,” he mutters. “He’s lucky he’s still breathing.”
The paramedic starts unpacking equipment, slipping an oxygen mask over Rafe’s face as they move with urgency. You try to stay calm, try to keep your hand on Rafe.
Ward ends his call and stands there, watching as they hook Rafe up to monitors and prep him for transport.
“Is he going to be okay?” he asks, voice strained because god forbid he shows more emotion.
The doctor glances up, his expression grim. “We’re stabilizing him now, but if this had gone on much longer… we’d be having a very different conversation.”
You're going to be sick.
They move fast, lifting him onto the stretcher. His limbs dangle uselessly. His body looks small, somehow. Beaten.
Ward steps forward, watching his son being carried away. For the first time, you see it—real fear in his eyes. 
“I should’ve seen it coming,” he says eventually. “Should’ve stopped it. This is on me.”
You feel something snap inside of you.  
“I’m sure it fucking is.”
He doesn’t say anything, only stands there like a fucking idiot.
Sarah’s beside you now, her hand a small pressure on your arm. “Come on,” she whispers. “We need to go with him.”
You nod, swallowing as you follow her out of the house, leaving Ward standing there alone.
You and Sarah sit in the car, neither of you speaking. You watch the ambulance disappear down the driveway, sirens off.
“I’m scared,” Sarah admits. 
You shut your eyes. “Me too.”
You have to remind yourself to breathe.
At the hospital, everything moves in slow motion. You’re ushered through paperwork, redirected by nurses, given vague updates. Eventually, you end up in a waiting room—those hideous, rigid chairs that feel like they were made for purgatory.
Minutes drag by like hours. You scroll through your phone without seeing it. Sarah bites her lip raw, blinking too fast. Every time you close your eyes, all you see is him—slumped, slipping away. After what feels like forever, the doctor finally comes through the doors, and Sarah and you jump up at the same time. 
The doctor looks exhausted, his face lined like he’s delivered this kind of news too many times already today.
“We got to him in time,” he says, voice low. “He was close. Closer than I’m comfortable with. But he’s stable now. We’ll keep him under for at least twenty-four hours.”
You finally take a deep breath, it shudders on the way out, not doing much to ease the knot in your chest.
Sarah’s already moving when the doctor finishes speaking. She doesn’t ask where his room is—she doesn’t need to. She has to see him. You don’t follow. Your legs feel like they’ve turned to stone. If you try to stand, you’ll collapse.
As much as you want to be with him, to hold his hand or just… see him breathing, you’re not sure you can stomach it—seeing him like that again. You've been walking a tightrope for weeks, bracing for a call like this.
What you need more than anything is to get out of here, close your eyes for more than a minute without the image of him passed out burned into your brain. You need sleep. You need to feel something other than panic. He’s gonna be okay. 
Rafe's alive, that’s enough for now.
You leave the hospital, but the image of him doesn't leave you.
You come back the next morning.
Just outside his room makes your stomach churn. You grip the handle, remind yourself you have to go in, he’s still here, he needs you.
He’s awake.
Propped up by the pillows, pale and worn down to the bone, but his eyes find you the second you step through the door. It’s like he doesn’t believe you’re real.
“Hey,” You manage to say, You don’t trust your voice to be strong enough to say something more.
His eyes widen faintly. “You came.”
You take a cautious step closer. “Of course I came, Rafe. Where else would I be?”
He’s genuinely shocked, he thought you’d just walk away from all of this. His eyes flicker away from yours, settling on the IV in his arm.
“Sarah called me. She didn’t know what to do.”
His jaw tightens. “She shouldn’t have.”
“She shouldn’t have had to, Rafe. You scared the shit out of her—out of everyone. I’ve been sitting here for two weeks, waiting for you to say something, anything, and you just—” You stop yourself, throat closing up, biting your lip to keep from crying. “You almost died.”
You can see his chest rising and fallin, you don't think he's going to answer at all—until he speaks.
“I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he admits quietly. “I didn’t want you to see how fucked up I am.”
Your heart twists. You’ve already seen it. Every fractured, spiraling version of him—and you’re still here. Because you’ve seen it and you love him anyway.
Rafe shakes his head, his hands gripping the blanket.
“I don’t deserve you.”
You step sit on bed, “Don’t say that,” you murmur, reaching for his hand. He flinches but doesn’t pull away. You link your fingers with his. “You’re gonna be okay. We’ll get through this. I need you to let me help you.”
He closes his eyes, his face twisting in pain, “Ward wanted us to meet mom and I just—”
You’ve never fully understood what his mom meant to him, or maybe what losing her did to him, now you do. The deep-rooted pain that calcifies in the bones and takes root in the places people don’t talk about.
“I didn’t want you to see this mess. I don’t want anyone to. I’m a fucking disaster. Every time I try to fix something, I make it worse. I just—” He breaks off, trying to swallow the rest of his words, the ones he can't confess out loud.
“You spent years sober, that’s not easy,” You scoot closer, wrapping your arms around him carefully, “Baby, I know you’re hurting. But I’m not going anywhere.”
“You should,” He confesses, “I hurt you.”
“You have,” You murmur into his shoulder,  “But that doesn’t mean I’m leaving. I’m not gonna give up on you.”
Rafe looks away, like he doesn’t believe you, he's waiting for you to walk out of that hospital room and never look back.
Instead, you squeeze his hand.
"I’m here because I love you."
“You shouldn’t.” he whispers.
You shake your head, leaning in, your hand resting on his cheek.
“But I do, Rafe. Together, okay? One step at a time.”
He nods, barely, but it's something. It’s a start.
710 notes · View notes
zorostitties · 28 days ago
Text
Aurora; 12 (m)
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⤕ Your existence had been an endless night, where shadows whispered long forgotten secrets. Trapped in a golden cage, your fragile mind and shattered memories were chains that kept you from dreaming of freedom. Then, he appeared with the first light of dawn, like a gentle sun warming your cold skin. In his gaze, the promise of a new beginning; in his presence, the sunrise your soul had longed for.
In which Alucard saves you from Erzsebet.
pairing: alucard (castlevania) x (f) reader
genre: angst, romance, slow burn, eventual smut
warnings: violence/blood, explicit language, mental health issues, grief, physical abuse.
rating: 18+
word count: 8k
A/N: HELLO WORLD!! PHEW. It's been a while. I know I'm posting it at a random hour but I needed to get this chapter off my chest. I explained on tumblr why it took me so long to update. To be honest my cat is still in a bad shape and I'm still absurdly worried about her… but oh well, I needed to post this chapter to think of something else for a while, at least. So it'd be very kind of you to leave a comment to help me not freak out about my cat :)
⤕  Masterlist  ⤕ Also on AO3 ⤕ Playlist
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You’re tired of fighting.
Your limbs are heavy, your throat burns, bruises cover your skin. Still, you try to run.
It’s useless. The two women dragging you inside the tomb are way stronger – unnaturally stronger than a human being should be. You growl like an animal, you kick and try to punch and claw anything on your reach. It’s still useless. The piece of cloth tightly wrapped around your mouth prevents you from speaking anything coherent.
The corridor opens to a big hall. The place is ancient, it is brightly illuminated by many torches. Strange paintings cover the walls and tall columns. There is a platform and something that looks like an altar ahead of you. On their sides, there are tall ceramic vases, five on each side. Sitting at the right side of the altar, there is a statue: the body of a female, the head of a lion, wielding a spear.
There is a woman standing on top of the platform.
A violent shiver runs down your spine. You know that woman… she was the first thing you saw when you woke up. If she didn’t exude cruelty and malice, maybe you would’ve thought she is beautiful: her tall stature, her long curly dark brown hair, her full lips and pink irises… but you know better. There is nothing good about that woman except her appearance.
She wears a similar white tunic as the other women in the hall, but is the only one wearing a golden headpiece, a thick necklace and many bracelets. Her expression isn’t cruel and mocking at the moment like you’ve seen her before. She just looks serious.
And there’s that other thing on the altar, too.
It… it resembles a woman, but you’re not sure: as pale as a cadaver, contrasting with the warmer skin tones of all the other women inside the tomb; its hair is long, straight and red, resembling a lion’s mane. The creature is… strangely tall, its arms and legs are disproportional to the rest of the body. It’s completely naked – you see the rags of what probably was its clothes scattered around the altar.
And it looks sick.
It’s way too skinny. Its ribs are very clearly outlined on the skin. Its cheeks are profound; its red eyes have heavy dark circles around them. Its whole body is trembling, its breathing is irregular. It drools like a sick dog.
And they are pulling you towards it.
After the initial shock, you begin to kick and scream again, but it’s still useless. You don’t want to be anywhere near that thing. It smells awful, it’s uncanny and scary and violently unnatural…
The other woman – who appears to be some sort of leader – grips you by the arm and drags you closer to that creature. She is even stronger than the other two who held you previously. She says something in a language you don’t understand.
You scream again. You try to pull your arm back, you try to claw her–
She squeezes your arm.
An agonizing yell erupts from your throat. Tears well up your eyes. Your legs fail.
You could hear the sound of your bones cracking under her grip.
That creature holds you this time. It pants like an animal. Even through the pain, you try to push it away – but it is useless.
Its long fingers entangle around the hair at the back of your head; it pushes it, forcing your head back and exposing your neck. It open its mouth wide, its horrible fangs approaching…
When it bites your neck, you can’t scream anymore; its jaws completely block your trachea. You gag, your eyes pop wide. There’s a suction noise… it is sucking your blood, you realize with horror. Your good hand still tries to pull its hair, but once again, it is useless… extreme weakness roams your body. The world twirls as every bit of strength disappears. Your head hurts as if someone had just hammered it.
Finally, it lets you go. You fall flat on the floor.
Your vision is blurred and darkening. You can’t move anymore. Your arm and your neck hurt so, so bad. And yet, you have time to see something before completely blacking out.
The creature doesn’t look like a creature anymore… its cheeks are not hollow, its limbs are no longer disproportional, body fat and muscles are visible again.
It is indeed a woman, not a thing.
She sighs contently and stretches her arms.
The world fades away.
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Notre Dame’s high vaulted ceiling was indeed impressive.
How long did it take to build such a magnificent structure? How many workers were necessary? Who must’ve planned the building? How did they know that something so big wouldn’t crumble? Who must’ve crafted the beautiful stained glasses that colored the walls as sunshine touched them?
You had no idea.
You didn’t know why you were staring at it, either.
Your senses came back rather slowly. Voices… steps… everything echoed within the cathedral. The place you were laid at was uncomfortable… a wooden bench. One of the many you’d seen previously. Now that the place was properly lit by sunlight, it didn’t look as eerie as before.
Finally, you decided to sit up.
The great hall was full. The benches weren’t perfectly lined as before, which made you remember that Jules and the monks had used them to barricade the doors. You quickly realized that the injured in battle were brought inside the cathedral, where women priestesses wearing black tunics that covered their heads helped them (you heard two distinctive words: sister and nun. Was that the name of their position?). You saw them running from side to side, holding bloody pieces of cloth and water basins. Other civilian women were helping with medical aid as well.
No known face in sight.
Immediate nervousness set in your guts. Where was everybody? Why were you laying there?
This nervousness vanished in two seconds, however, when a familiar voice called.
You turned your head to see Charles, Jules and Henri rushing to where you were. You almost sighed in relief; Jules didn’t look seriously injured and Henri’s right shoulder was properly bandaged, though he still looked way too pale and tired. All of them looked worn out, in fact, with their uniforms ragged in some spots and blood stains here and there.
“Mademoiselle! You’re–“
“You’re awake! How are you feeling?”
“I’ll call for help! Sister! Please–“
You immediately raised your palm in Charle’s direction. “No, please. I am fine. I don’t need medical aid, thank you.”
The three boys sat down. They silently battled to see who would take their place by your side – Henri ended up winning. The other two sat on the bench in front of you, frowning at the ginger boy.
“What happened? Where is Alucard?” You asked.
“You passed out, Miss Ruby.” Charles explained. Jules elbowed him and angry whispered don’t call her by her name, you’re not her close friend!. “Mr. Alucard brought you down. After he checked that you weren’t hurt, he let you rest and left to care for the troops… he told us to take care of you–“
“He told me to take care of you.” Jules hissed again.
“He didn’t address you, we were all present at that moment…”
But their incessant arguing didn’t catch your attention, because you remembered someone and it immediately made your heart race.
“Mizrak!” You looked around, searching for his familiar face between the injured. “Where is Mizrak?!”
They eyed each other hesitantly.
“The monk, isn’t it?” Jules asked. You nodded. “He… he disappeared, Mademoiselle. He just weren’t there when we opened the doors again.”
“He might’ve crawled somewhere else,” Charles tried to calm you down. “There are other points in the city were the injured are being taken care of.”
“He’s a strong man, isn’t he? I-I’m sure he’s alright, somewhere…” Henri didn’t sound confident at all, however.
You instinctively gripped the fabric of your skirt. How could he just have disappeared? No one simply disappears. His wound was beyond serious, it needed immediate medical assistance. What if a vampire had dragged him away, fed from his corpse? What if he died because of you?
Which made you remember something else, for some reason. Your eyes popped wide once again.
“My scepter? Where is it?” Once again, you looked at your sides.
“My” scepter. Why did you claim it as yours so instinctively?
It just… felt right to do so.
“It’s under the bench, mademoiselle,” Henri pointed. You rushed to grab it, almost sighing in relief. Something so shiny would definitely attract thieves if you weren’t careful.
The three boys were engaged in some conversation. They were asking you questions, in fact, about what happened exactly at the top of the bell tower, where did that light come from, but you weren’t paying attention, focusing your eyes on the golden artifact instead.
You had already noticed it before – but the staff had a very subtle cone format. It got a bit thinner on the other end.
You brushed your fingers around it. The scepter… it didn’t look that unfamiliar anymore.
There was a small spot on the base of it, near the sun symbol. You pressed your thumb over it.
And then – the staff retracted.
It emitted a soft metallic sound as the entire length of the staff fit into itself. Now, you just held a disk – the sun symbol – that was a little larger than your hand, with ninety percent of the staff reduced to a small handle.
The four of you went immediately silent in shock.
“Wow.” Jules exclaimed. “How did you do this?”
“I don’t know.”
“It retracted perfectly,” Henri said in awe. “It’s an engineering masterpiece!”
They began to discuss between themselves again, and as much as you didn’t really mind their company, they were starting to bring you headaches. They reminded you a bit of a pack of turkeys – if one made a noise, all the others repeated.
“Gentlemen,” your voice immediately stopped their incessant talking. They looked at your with attention. You held the sun disk with both hands and rested them over your lap. “I didn’t have the opportunity to properly thank you all yet. Without your efforts, I would’ve never arrived here… and I don’t want to imagine what would’ve happened if I didn’t. All of you saved uncountable lives today.” You managed to open a small smile while passing your eyes by each of the three. “Thank you so much.”
They got speechless for once.
You watched as their lips curved up into grins. Jules massaged the back of his neck sheepishly, Charles stuffed his chest like a bird, Henri got redder than a tomato. It was funny how these three were only big in size; in your eyes, they weren’t much far from the other three little boys you met in Paris.
You were also a bit surprised at your own speech. A week ago, you would’ve never even imagined yourself speaking with quiet confidence like that… you didn’t stutter once, which honestly felt great.
Finally, you stood up, being followed by them.
“Do you know where Alucard and the others are?”
Of course they knew. Of course they wouldn’t let you make your way there on your own.
The three guided you outside of the cathedral once again talking incessantly. You resigned yourself to replying with short sentences anytime a question was asked, way too focused on analyzing the destruction of the city. There was blood everywhere. The area around Notre Dame specifically was full of night creature carcasses; volunteers worked on grabbing them to throw them in a bonfire nearby. The streets were crowded as citizens helped clean the city, bring down the rubble barricades, measure the damage, or simply went back to their homes and establishments.
It was strange to see everything under the sunshine… and to think that just one or two hours ago, you were running around these streets, trying to survive vampire attacks, feeling the deepest fear you’ve ever felt – and trying to brush it aside. You had managed to, somehow… something unthinkable for the person you were a week ago.
...Had you really changed this much in a few days, or you were simply allowed to be yourself for the first time in your life?
“...What I’m trying to say, Mademoiselle,” Henri’s nervous voice caught your attention for the first time. He sent an angry glance towards the other two before looking at you with expectation. “D-Do you have a house in Paris?”
“No.”
“Great! I-I mean–“ he cleaned his throat and put his hand over his chest. “If you need a place to stay – to spend the night, perhaps – you are more than welcome in my house. It’s not far from here. We have enough rooms and food for you. A-And Mr. Alucard, of course,” he giggled nervously.
You half expected the other two to offer their homes as well, but they didn’t, to your surprise. They just looked at him with what looked like jealousy.
Before you could answer, you arrived at a great square – and you forgot about the three.
“Excuse me,” you said before rushing towards Annette.
The square had many people walking from here to there, dragging rubble or just watching – but you didn’t care. Annette is alive! More than that, she looked fine. The dark haired girl spotted you as well and rushed, meeting you halfway.
“Are you okay? Did you get hurt? Where is Richter?” You blurted out, immediately searching for injuries with your eyes. Annette chuckled and held your arms delicately.
“I’m fine. We’re both fine. What about you?” She quirked one eyebrow up. “I heard you unleashed some terrifying magic.”
She lowered her eyes to the sun disk you held. You immediately avoided her gaze, feeling sheepish. “Well, I… I don’t really know how to explain what happened.”
Annette shrugged. “Neither do I.”
“Where’s Richter?” You repeated and started to turn around. Annette, for some reason, widened her eyes and was about to hold you back again…
“Wait–“
She tried, but it was already too late.
The first thing you saw was Alucard, standing at a good distance.
He was eyeing you intently. Juste Belmont was by his side – how and when did he arrive in Paris? – wearing an elegant long red coat.
When your eyes crossed his, your entire body froze.
What happened at the bell tower…
It felt as if your entire face was on fire. Heavens, you hugged him – you actually hugged him, you entangled your arms around his neck and cried like a child. You certainly were not in your right mind to do something so… so… so…!
But then, you looked at something else – the thing Annette was worried that you’d see – and all the other thoughts ceased.
Your stomach dropped.
A big bonfire was being formed by civilians bringing rubble; it was more than two meters tall, perhaps. In between the pieces of wood, there were corpses – the vampires that didn’t turn to ashes during the flash of sunlight.
And the biggest corpse of them all…
You instinctively stepped back.
Erzsebet Bathory.
She didn’t look like herself anymore. She was even taller than what you remembered, her red hair longer, her face distorted in animalistic traits… one arm had been chopped off. She had many bruises and injuries. Her cheeks were hollow, her mouth wide open in a perpetual expression of shock and pain.
Erzsebet Bathory was dead.
No mistakes this time, Alucard had said.
The sight of her destroyed, lifeless corpse made your stomach twirl. And once again, you hated the effect this woman had upon you even in death, even with you looking at her in that state. It felt like she would suddenly screech and launch herself at you like so many times before. You could almost feel her claws gnawing your skin, her fangs sinking in your neck…
She is dead. She is dead. She can’t hurt me anymore. She is dead.
Annette’s soft touch on your shoulder brought you back to reality. She looked at you with worry.
“Do you remember what I told you?” She asked quietly.
And when we defeat Erzsebet, justice will be done.
You closed your eyes for a moment and sighed.
“Yes. I’ll… I’ll be fine.” You reassured her. You weren’t fine at that moment, but you would be.
Finally, you spotted Richter walking towards you both. He looked very injured – he had multiple burns on both arms, the sleeves of his blue jacket had been ripped. He was limping and looked very tired, yet still managed to open a small smile to you.
He carried a long piece of wood. The tip had been draped with pieces of cloth.
His small smile vanished. He looked down at you with solemnity.
“You arrived at the right time, Ruby.” Richter looked down at the wood he held. “We believe… you deserve to be the one to do it.”
You finally understood.
That was a torch.
You gulped, your body got tense. Even so, you nodded accordingly. You wouldn’t be able to speak even if you tried.
Richter summoned a ball of blue fire in his hand and ignited the torch. You shoved the sun disk inside your vest and held the torch with both hands.
You took a deep breath before approaching the pyre.
The square stopped to watch the scene.
Erzsebet’s corpse was horrendous, disgusting. You decided to not avoid your gaze from it. You bent slightly, making the tip of the torch touch the wood at the base of the pyre. The fire spread rapidly.
You stepped away and watched.
The people at the square cheered at the sight of the so-called Vampire Messiah burning. Your world, however, was quiet. All you could hear were the sounds of the wood cackling, the flames increasing and consuming everything in the pyre. You watched with attention as the fire consumed Erzsebet’s corpse; it burned her skin, her hair, muscles and bones. And a part of you was grateful to be left alone – Alucard, Annette, Richter and the three boys decided to stand away.
Erzsebet was dead. Definitely.
She used to be your world merely a week ago. Everything revolved around her: your fear, your hopelessness, your hatred, your self-loathing, your confusion. You were just a shadow of a person, an empty fragile shell on the verge of breaking apart. She was your world – and your world was dark, cold, bloody and lonely.
Things were slowly changing now.
You learned that the real world also had place for colors. For kindness, friendship, perseverance and freedom. The real world was not a perfect place, but it was vast; and its vastness for sure should have a place for you somewhere – a place were you wouldn’t be hurt anymore.
At that moment, you decided that you would never cry for her again.
You had already cried enough. She had forced you to dedicate your entire existence for her. You knew that your wounds were way too deep to be forgotten, you knew that the scars that would come from them would be ugly and impossible to ignore. You knew that it wouldn’t be fast and easy to overcome your fears and all the disgusting memories she dug into your soul.
But even so, you decided not to cry.
She had taken enough from you.
When her skeleton was visible, you turned your back to the pyre.
Richter was leaning on Annette for support, his arm resting over her shoulders while she hugged him from the side. You approached them hesitantly.
Annette still looked worried.
“How are you feeling?” She asked.
You looked down at your bloody sleeve.
“Disgusting. I need a bath.” Finally, you lifted your gaze again. “A friend of mine can help us out.”
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You quickly found out why the other two boys didn’t offer their houses as well.
Henri was the son of a judge, who was apparently intimately tied to the leaderships of the Revolutionaries. His house was far from being as luxurious as the chateau in Machecoul (you figured that if Henri’s father had a house like that, he’d be next in the guillotine line), but it was still bigger and more comfortable than the average home anyway, located at the heart of Paris.
Henri had offered you (and Alucard as an afterthought) a shelter… but you figured he wouldn’t mind if you brought other visitors as well.
Right?
Well, his father certainly didn’t mind. The middle-aged man thanked Alucard over a hundred times, his eyes gleaming as if he stood in front of a golden statue, babbling how he was thankful for his help. Alucard listened patiently, but you were around him for long enough to start noticing his very subtle expression changes.
You remembered his opinion about the leaders of the Revolutionaries…
Well.
The rest of the group was more than happy to have a place to stay for a while, so there wasn’t really what to argue here.
“Stay for as long as you like!” Henri’s father repeated for the hundredth time while guiding everyone inside. “We have enough bedrooms, enough food… well, perhaps not enough clothes, but I’ll figure it out in no time! Tell me whatever you need and I’ll have it ready. All I have to offer is little compared to what you did to save our nation today!”
Alucard resigned himself to offer him a nod.
Before the white-haired vampire could focus on you, you immediately accepted a maid’s offer to get upstairs and have a bath.
...You didn’t know why you were avoiding him. Not exactly. Perhaps embarrassment? You’d never been deliberately touchy with anyone like that before. Well, you weren’t in your right mind at that moment for whatever reason. Maybe you crossed a boundary? Maybe you went too far? Alucard didn’t push you away, however – but he wasn’t one to be rude anyway… at the same time, it’s not like Alucard wasn’t someone that didn’t know how to establish boundaries. The fact that he didn’t push you away had to mean something, right?
He hugged you back, in fact.
He rested his face on your shoulder and didn’t move.
You felt his hot breath on your neck and his large hand softly caressing your back.
For the second time, he held you until you fell asleep.
Your face was burning hot.
Suddenly, for unknown reasons, you felt as if you were exposed again, as if there was a crowd watching you with scrutiny even though there was no one else besides the maid in the room. You felt burning embarrassment crawl over your skin and it burnt almost as much as the strange magic of the scepter. For the first time in your life, you dismissed a maid’s offer to help you bathe and decided to do it yourself.
And then you were alone in the bedroom, but you still felt strange and exposed and oh heavens you were disgusting. Sweaty, dried blood covered your skin. You got rid of those layers of clothes and sat inside the wooden bathtub – it was smaller than what you were used to, the water wasn’t as warm, there weren’t bath salts, only a bar of soap.
Erzsebet chose the bath salts you’d bathe in. She liked flowery fragrances.
And then you remembered that you still smelled of her, that her disgustingly sweet smell was mixed with the smell of blood and sweat, and then you were scrubbing yourself with the sponge and soap vehemently.
You scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed, watching the foam spread over your skin. You scrubbed your arms and chest and legs and stomach and feet. But the smell wouldn’t go away, so you scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed. You scrubbed until your skin started to hurt. That pain made you remember the sight of Erzsebet burning in the pyre, the sight of her skin boiling and melting from her bones – which, for some reason, made you scrub harder. You weren’t planning to, but you ended up untying your hair and washing it too, scratching your scalp with soap in frenetic movements because that bad smell was probably in your hair, too.
You scrubbed your own body until you were tired, until the water became actually cold, until your arms hurt from the repetitive movements. You stood inside the tub with water on your knees, the naked upper part of your body shaking in cold, and watched as blood dripped from the scratches you had inflicted on your own thighs. Perhaps… perhaps too much scrubbing. How did that even happen?
You sniffed your hair. Your skin. It didn’t smell of flowers anymore.
Just soap.
So you finally got out of the tub and wrapped yourself in a towel.
When the maid entered the bedroom with a fresh change of clothes, you avoided eye contact with her. She explained that the dress was Henri’s sister’s and perhaps it wouldn’t fit, but she already had a box of threads and needles to make adjustments. It wasn’t an intricate ball gown, but it wasn’t a simple dress either. It had cream and light green tones with pink flowers peppered around the corset and skirt. The dress was light and comfortable. It didn’t require many adjustments.
The maid offered herself to brush and style your hair, to which you politely declined. She probably wouldn’t be aggressive the way you were used to, but… no. Not right now.
When the maid left, you sat in front of the dressing table… and stayed there for a while. Disheveled damp hair fell over your shoulders. It was probably wetting the back of the dress. You didn’t care.
You stared at your own reflection for the first time in days.
The morning Alucard appeared in your life, you were doing just that – watching your reflection. Scrutinizing yourself. You didn’t look different. But, at the same time, there was something different about you – and you couldn’t tell exactly what.
You still had no past or family or name… but you weren’t just a bird in a cage anymore either, nor a lamb obediently walking to its slaughter night after night.
You were free.
It was scary.
What were you going to do from now on? You were actually alone. You owned nothing, and it was pretty clear that in order to survive in this world, you’d need some gold or coins or… whatever the currency was. You couldn’t assume Henri would let you live under his shelter forever and you weren’t innocent enough to not understand what it meant to stay.
You were nobody.
The others? They accepted you because you were a link to Erzsebet’s powers, an upper hand. Now their enemies were dead. They had no responsibility over you… you shouldn’t assume that they would take care of you like you were a child.
As humiliating as it might be, you felt like a child.
What would be your place in this world? Was something expected of you? Would they expect you to get married and have children? Should you find some sort of work? Should you perform some sort of role?
The reflection in the mirror frowned back at you slowly.
A… role?
...
You learned that your blood was valuable to her.
...
“But I am no vampire.”
“No. However, you heal like one. And Erzsebet drank from your blood for a long time, apparently.”
Annette looked at Alucard. “Do you think this was also somehow empowering her?”
The vampire took some moments to answer. “Maybe. We can’t be sure.”
That creature doesn’t look like a creature anymore… its cheeks are not hollow, its limbs are no longer disproportional, body fat and muscles are visible again.
It is indeed a woman, not a thing.
It took you a long time to realize that there was someone knocking on the door. You got up in a jump and rushed towards it with your thoughts rushing faster than the currents of a river.
It was Henri. He had also taken a proper bath, changed his clothes, and blushed furiously when his eyes fell on your figure. Maybe because your hair was damp and not presentable? Not very lady-like. Perhaps inappropriate. But you didn’t care, the same way you didn’t really pay attention to anything he was saying; his words seemed muffled and distant within the cacophony of your own thoughts.
The bandages on his left shoulder were peeking from under his blouse.
“Henri, would you do something for me?” you interrupted whatever he was babbling before. “But you have to trust me.”
His eyes widened. “O-Of course! Anything for you, Mademoiselle.”
You opened the door wide and stepped aside, pointing towards the bed. “Please, have a seat.”
His face got even redder, if that was possible.
“B-B-But Mademoiselle– it would be inappropriate to enter your room like that, when we’re alone–“
“Please.”
“Of course!”
He rushed in awkwardly as if that wasn’t his own house. You didn’t bother to close the door again – if the idea of being alone with you made him so uncomfortable, it was best to leave it open. Henri sat on the edge of the bed while blinking rapidly for some reason. His breathing also looked irregular. Was he feeling unwell?
“Can you show me your wound?” You asked. Henri widened his eyes again.
“Mademoiselle… hm…”
“Trust me.” You were running impatient.
Henri hesitated, but ended up taking off his coat and pushing his blouse to expose the bandages. You turned around to take something from the dressing table. When you turned around holding a pair of scissors, Henri got pale.
He was a bit of a chameleon.
Henri was about to protest again, but the look you sent him made him gulp and go quiet. You stood in front of him to carefully cut the bandages away and expose the gashes on his shoulder. They were properly cleaned and stitched up, but even so you could still see how horribly that vampire hurt him. If Henri’s head was centimeters closer to the vampire’s claws… he wouldn’t be here right now to change colors anymore.
Henri gasped when you brought the blade of the scissors and cut your own palm.
“Mademoiselle–!”
“Shh.”
He swallowed his words.
You hoped to be right. That had to work.
Carefully, you pressed your bleeding palm over his wounds.
Henri hissed. Your hand moved slowly to spread the blood over the entire surface of the gashes. The sight was unpleasant, to say the least… but it was less disgusting than making him drink your blood.
Please, work. Please, work.
Nothing changed at first.
But then, Henri gasped – and you gasped, too.
Your palm pressed over his wounds – your blood started to glow faintly. It took a strange golden color, as if it became melted gold.
Both of you watched in awe as Henri’s wounds started to heal right in front of your eyes.
He seemed out of breath. He frowned and hissed and you knew he was probably hurting because you knew that feeling. You stood upright and stepped away from him in slight shock.
The threads that were used to stitch the gashes fell over his lap.
Henri touched his own shoulder hesitantly. He pressed his fingers over it, massaged it. There was no sign that it was previously hurt… not even a scar.
You learned that your blood was valuable to her.
Why keep you around? Why keep you locked with guards holding you at all times? Why drag you along anywhere she went?
That was the answer to one of the questions that plagued your existence.
Henri was healed.
Finally, he rose his amazed eyes towards you.
“Miss Ruby… h-how did…?”
Then, he looked at something behind you and got pale again.
You turned around.
Alucard stood by the door, watching the scene with an astonished expression.
You locked eyes. With that simple gaze, you saw that he understood the situation completely.
One piece of the puzzle that hid your mysterious past was solved.
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“...Why is he talking funny?” You whispered in Annette’s ear.
She quirked one eyebrow up and looked towards Juste, who stood not far from where you were sitting.
A smirk crept up her lips. “He’s drunk.”
Juste Belmont, Richter’s grandfather who you only saw briefly at his destroyed cottage, swayed slightly as if he stood on water, though the ground at the sides of the Seinne were clearly cobblestones. His eyes were half lidded, his speech slower and a bit difficult to understand. He held a wooden cup full of beer and talked to some unknown men who seemed to be in a similar state as him.
At your obvious confusion, Annette frowned. “Have you never been drunk?”
“I don’t know what that is, I’m afraid.”
Annette looked more confused than you. She eyed the bottle of the (not very good) wine you’d been sharing for the past hour or so. “Well, I’m surprised… given how much you’ve been drinking. You don’t feel anything strange at all? A certain dizziness? A sudden happiness?”
You put your hand over your own stomach and frowned. “No. Was I supposed to?”
She rested her face on her palm. “A normal person would be supposed to… but I guess your healing ability doesn’t even let you get drunk.” A small chuckle went past her lips. “It’s what happens when someone drinks too much of an alcoholic beverage. They lose their senses, get dizzy, sometimes end up saying or doing things they wouldn’t do when they’re sane…”
“Oh.” Funnily enough, you knew how that felt – but it didn’t have anything to do with alcohol… just extreme levels of “sun magic”, apparently. “I didn’t know wine has alcohol. It doesn’t feel much different than juice to me.” You quirked one eyebrow up. “Does juice have alcohol?”
“No. Hopefully no.” She shook her head. It seemed that Annette thought your confusion over some things amused her, much like Alucard. She looked ahead again. “Getting drunk is not always bad, you know. Sometimes it helps you lift your spirits.”
You looked ahead too, back to where Juste and his new friends laughed at the top of their lungs at something you didn’t hear, and silently wished you could get drunk if it’d make you laugh like that.
It was… strange, to say the least, how the night in Paris was so lively. Streets were crowded and well lit, laughter and music filled the air as citizens celebrated. Men, women, young or old – the entire city decided to go outside and have a huge party. It didn’t even seem that a literal war broke out only a few hours ago. Most of the rubble hadn’t even been collected.
It was like no one cared. Which, in your opinion, was a bit heartless, given how many lives were lost. But it seems they were just happy that the person who threatened their freedom was dead.
Well. You should be happy too. More than anyone.
Why weren’t you celebrating with them?
You craved freedom for as long as you could remember. More than that… you craved relief. But turns out, deep down, you never thought that day would actually come, and now that it did, you just didn’t know how to react. So your body and feelings just decided to freeze in this strange state.
The others seemed happy – well, maybe except for Maria, the blonde girl in pink. She talked a bit with Annette and Juste, but resigned herself to be quiet most of the time with perpetual melancholy over her features. From what you knew, Maria had lost her mother the day you met Alucard, so her actions were understandable.
Richter bounced back between talking to Juste and Annette. The black haired girl still seemed a bit apprehensive about something, but other than that, she was much more relaxed than what you’d known of her. And Alucard… he was somewhere. He left the house with everyone, but quickly got caught up in conversation with some generals you’d seen before.
So there you were. Sitting on a bench with Annette by your side, watching Paris celebrate the death of the Vampire Messiah, while you felt that you couldn’t even move.
It was overwhelming. And a bit uncomfortable.
Turns out you hadn’t really gotten used to crowds… it seems it’s not something that would change over just a few days. Many men you met the day before came to greet you with wide smiles in their faces (now that Annette had explained, you figured most of them were probably drunk too). Of course, you were happy anytime you recognized a face – one more soldier that hadn’t fallen. But at at some point… you didn’t want to talk anymore, or force smiles, or try to pay attention to whatever they were trying to say.
So you decided to sit with Annette for a while in this somehow hidden spot. It seemed she didn’t want to mix with the people as well. You wondered if it had anything to do with what Alucard explained about her past and her homeland…
Which made you remember something else – something you’d been hesitating to ask.
You straightened your back and cleaned your throat. “Hm, Annette… can I ask you something?” She looked at you and nodded. “Do you remember what you said or did while… well… while Sekhmet possessed you?”
She narrowed her eyes and looked down, touching her temples with her fingertips. “Not exactly. I remember what happened while I was in the spirit world… but even these memories are a bit vague in some parts. Like the memories of a dream.” She rested her hand back over her lap. “It’s always like that when I wander there.”
“So you weren’t really here while Sekhmet had your body?” Annette shook her head. Your shoulders dropped in disappointment. “Oh. I understand.”
She tilted her head. “Why you ask?”
“Sekhmet said something strange about me.” You avoided her eyes. Although they shared the same face, Annette had nothing to do with Sekhmet and the feral glare she sent you at that moment. “She said I should not be close to her.”
“What? Why?”
“She didn’t explain. That’s why I hoped maybe you’d have a hint… since you shared a body.”
Annette held her chin in a pensive expression. “...I have no idea, I’m sorry. But if I remember something relevant from when I was in the spirit world, I’ll tell you right away.”
You thanked her quietly and looked ahead again. You couldn’t blame her. Annette had asked how that flash of sunlight happened, how the scepter worked – and similarly to her, you had no answers.
Richter was, once again, approaching with a smile on his face. Perhaps that was the little push you needed to move. Whenever he came around, you felt that you were… interrupting. It wasn’t the first time you felt like that around them, but the situation became a little bit more intense. Maybe you really were interrupting, maybe they wanted some time for themselves but didn’t want to be rude.
So you finally decided to get up.
“I’m tired... I’ll head back now.”
Annette seemed a bit worried. “Do you want me to walk back with you?”
Again, you couldn’t blame her for being worried, not after all she had seen of you – acting like a frightened little mouse all the time. You shook your head and managed to open a small (fake) smile. “No, thank you. The house is just two streets away… I promise to not get lost.”
Annette hesitated… but it seems she understood you wanted to be left alone.
“Okay. Take care.”
You nodded and turned around, not waiting to greet Richter. It also made you feel a bit like that frightened little mouse again, but there was another reason why you felt confident enough to walk these two streets alone. The red string around your right wrist. You decided to keep it there, the same way you decided to take the red disk – scepter – with you wherever you went. The idea of it being taken from you was enough to keep you on your toes at all times.
You walked past couples, families, friends, children – talking, drinking, dancing, running around. You wished you wouldn’t feel this disconnected from their reality. No… it was a bit more complicated than that. You wished you had a family, a real past, more good memories than bad ones. Perhaps if you had these things… you wouldn’t feel so distant or lost or empty.
As much as you’d been avoiding to sleep, you assumed that sleeping right now would ease your feelings a bit.
That was when something very subtle tingled on your wrist.
You looked down in time to see the red string untying itself and falling.
Frowning, you crouched and took it from the floor again. Had you accidentally brushed on someone–?
If anything happens, anything at all, untie this string. Mine will untie, too, and I will rush to you.
Your eyes widened.
You looked around frantically.
Finally – you found him.
Alucard stood alone on one of the many bridges over the Seinne not very far from where you were. He was difficult to find at first, but as soon as your eyes locked on him, everyone else became blurred. He leaned both forearms over the stone railing in a relaxed position; his face held the serenity you were already used to. It’s like he was deep in thought. The soft night breeze played with his white hair. He looked down at the river.
His red string swayed with the wind, too. Untied. He held it between his fingers.
Your heart stopped beating for a second.
You stood there, unable to move, as if your body finally remembered how to feel something, how to not be distant. You gulped, gripped the sun disk a little tighter.
Mine will untie, too, and I will rush to you.
Alucard noticed you were avoiding him. Well, it was quite impossible not to notice. He didn’t make any attempts to approach you (you quite literally ran away from him earlier after the new discovery about your blood). But that… that was a very clear message.
A quiet invitation.
So you took a deep breath, trying to calm your stupid racing heart. Why were you scared? That was Alucard. You knew Alucard. He was never mean to you, never made you feel bad intentionally. You had faced a city full of vampires earlier that day… talking to him was nothing compared to that.
To be truly freed is to not be afraid.
You walked towards him.
You didn’t rush. You held the disk tightly, keeping it close to your stomach, the red string tangled around your palm. It seemed that your heart thundered louder on your ears with every step. It was like the world got blurrier and blurrier except for him.
After what seemed like an eternity, you stood by his side.
Two steps away. You looked down at the river, too.
Silence.
You weren’t brave enough to look at him. Alucard didn’t move, didn’t say anything. But… just like before, his quiet serenity enveloped you, made the celebration noises a bit distant.
It didn’t calm your raging heart this time.
It took you a while to understand that Alucard was waiting for you to speak up first. But he called me here. Doesn’t he have anything to say? Why should I be the one to speak first?!
To be truly freed is to not be afraid.
You gulped.
“I…” Your voice cracked a bit. You felt the urge to jump in the river and drown. “I don’t know how they have the energy to celebrate. It… doesn’t feel appropriate.”
Alucard sighed.
“The grieving families for sure aren’t out here.” Goosebumps roamed your skin when his calm husky voice reached your ears. “France is far from reaching real peace in the next few years… let them celebrate for now.”
You nodded, keeping your eyes glued to the river down there. It reflected the golden lights of the lanterns on the margins beautifully.
Come on, don’t be scared. Don’t be embarrassed. Come on. Come on. Come on.
You took what you had kept inside the sleeve of your dress hesitantly.
“A-Actually, I… I wanted to give you this.”
You turned to Alucard for the first time. He was already looking at you.
He looked down at the carefully folded handkerchief you offered him with both hands.
His expressions changed subtly. At first, confusion; then, surprise.
Then… a small smile.
You cleared your throat. “G-Give it back, actually. Since I ruined yours… I don’t know if it’s the same fabric, but it looks similar to the one you had.”
Alucard chuckled and took the handkerchief with care. When his fingers brushed yours, you felt more goosebumps.
“There was no need… but thank you. It is very thoughtful.”
You managed to smile, but turned to the river again before your face started burning.
With the corner of your eyes, you saw him put the handkerchief inside his coat and lean over the railing again. He was not wearing his cape. There was something different about him… perhaps because immediate danger wasn’t lurking anymore, Alucard felt comfortable enough to actually relax, and it reflected on his body and face.
You taped your pointer finger over the sun disk nervously. “How’s your wound?” You blurted out, desperate to not fall in an awkward silence.
Alucard instinctively touched his left shoulder. “Healed.” He looked at you again. “What about you?”
Oh fuck. He was addressing the elephant in the room – your strange state that made you weirder and braver than usual. Please do not mention the hug. Please please please please.
Once more, you avoided his gaze. “...Back to normal, I believe.” I hope is what you wanted to say, but perhaps it would’ve been a little rude.
“Do you have any idea of why that happened to you?”
You tightened your lips and frowned a bit.
You will burn from inside out.
It’s what the unknown female voice told you.
“I believe… I was doing something wrong at first.” You started hesitantly. “The magic. I was conjuring it in an incorrect way. I think my mistake harmed me. Burning me from inside out.”
Alucard hummed and held his chin.
“So it backfires. Magic so powerful should have its side effects.” Alucard seemed hesitant. “If it harms you… you should consider not doing it unless absolutely necessary.”
“No! It was just at first. I… figured it out later.” The thought made you tighten your grip around the sun disk by instinct. “Though, to be honest, I feel that that specific ritual shouldn’t be used in excess.”
Alucard’s eyes followed your grip. He quirked one eyebrow up slightly.
“I was meaning to ask you about this, too.” You handed him the sun disk right away, to which he took and raised to his eye level. “So the staff retracts. How did you figure it out?”
You shrugged. “It just felt right.”
Alucard grinned while handing it back to you. “It seems you’re remembering a lot of things.”
“...I’m not sure. It’s like I told you before… knowledge. Not memories.”
The white-haired vampire leaned on the railing again and looked into the distance. His expression got a bit more serious.
“I was thinking of what you told me. It reminded me of something.” Alucard seemed to hesitate. “...My parents were doctors. Both of them. My father, specifically, had a bit of a fascination for the mysteries of the human brain. He dedicated many studies and experiments to it. Wrote entire books.” Whenever Alucard mentioned anything about his father, it was like nothing else in the world mattered. You were completely focused. “From his many theses… he got to the conclusion that memories and abilities are stored in different areas of the brain. That could be why when someone suffers from memory loss, they still know how to speak, read, write… they know how to function.”
Your eyes widened at each word that left his mouth. “...Just like me.” Alucard nodded. You instinctively touched your own head. “So maybe this part of my brain is damaged?”
“Could be.”
“But why isn’t it healing back?”
Alucard hesitated.
“I believe we’ll figure it out soon.” You wanted to ask what the hell he meant by that, but Alucard decided to change topics drastically. “Talking about healing… did you tell anyone about what happened?”
Oh.
The absolute shocking news you discovered earlier that day, but that seemed pale at that moment in comparison with your nervousness to speak with him.
“No.” You shook your head. “But I was thinking… Richter’s burns are pretty bad. Maybe I could help him… or maybe if I knew where Mizrak is, I could save him...”
“Ruby.”
He put his hand over your shoulder – which made you swallow your words.
Quiet worry coated his features.
“I understand you want to help. But you should also understand that the properties of your blood are extremely rare and extremely valuable. It will put a target on your head again. So… the less people know about it, the better.” He dropped his hand from your shoulder. “Also… if in order to heal someone you end up getting hurt, I don’t see why you should do it.”
“But I always–“
“I know.” He interrupted you softly. “I know you do. That doesn’t mean you should hurt yourself willingly.” Alucard pressed his lips. “...Blood is life, Ruby. Don’t give your life away so easily.”
You sighed heavily and crossed your arms. “I guess you’re right. Henri knows about it, though.”
“He won’t tell anyone.” Alucard sounded way too certain about that.
It was your turn to lean on the stone railing, You looked down at the river. The pacific sound of the non-stopping flowing waters muffled the other noises – uncountable voices and music. You wondered if Alucard attracted you here on purpose… a place where you could focus on a single calming sound.
And perhaps that calmness gave you courage to ask the question you wanted to ask the most.
“What are you going to do now, Alucard?” Your voice was hesitant. Fragile, even… “Erzsebet and Drolta are dead. Your five year mission is over…”
Of course, you knew he and the others had no responsibility over you. You were well aware. And yet, the simple thought of being left alone frightened you. The idea that Alucard would wake up tomorrow and simply go away, and the others would go back to Machecoul, and Annette would cross the ocean back to Saint-Domingue… all of that was frightening.
You wanted to be free, not alone.
And the thought that you might never see Alucard again was even more frightening.
Should you have been attached to him so easily after just a few days? Was that correct or normal? You had no idea. What you knew was that Alucard was the first person to offer kindness and protection and understanding, and you didn’t want him out of your life so soon.
But that was not up to you.
So all you could do was ask.
Alucard leaned on the railing too. He was closer this time. Just one step away, not two.
“I think I should be making this question.” He said softly. “What are you going to do now that you’re free?”
A dry, humorless chuckle escaped past your lips. That wasn’t funny, however.
“I don’t have a family. Or a past, or a name. I don’t know where I came from or where should I go next. I don’t know why my blood heals, why I can read this language, where did this scepter come from… I don’t know anything.” You hated how fragile and bitter your voice sounded, but that couldn’t be helped. “...Is this even freedom at all?”
Alucard kept silent for long, respectful moments.
Then, he sighed deeply.
“There is only one place in the world where we could decode this language.” He pointed towards the sun disk.
You looked at him with a frown.
“There is only one place in the world where we might find out why you heal… and where does your strange magic comes from.”
Expectation bubbled within your chest.
“What place is it?”
Alucard closed his eyes for a moment. It was just a glimpse, but you had the impression that he didn’t really like what he was about to say.
But then, he opened his eyes to look at you – and his golden irises had nothing but kindness and quiet care, and the lanterns cast a soft glow over his features and white hair, and truly – he was so beautiful that it was almost painful to look at.
“My home.” He tilted his head to the sides. “...What used to be my home, at least.” Alucard straightened his back. “I’m making you an invitation, Ruby.”
Your heart raced. Your mouth got dry. Your eyes widened slowly.
“Do you want to… help me?” You, for some reason, sounded amazed. Why is it? Has anyone been more willing to help you than Alucard?
Alucard smiled and nodded – and, at that moment, with that simple motion, he seemed to ease all the worries of your soul.
“I do. I will. Let’s find out who you really are, Ruby.” Alucard rested his hand over yours… and once again, it didn’t burn.
It warmed.
“Let’s go to Dracula’s castle.”
323 notes · View notes
ultravi0lence14 · 4 months ago
Text
PROMISES
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dean winchester x angel!reader
3.5k | fluff | smut (MDNI) | oral (fem receiving) | finger sucking | unprotected p in v.
summary: dean finally has his angel, and he wants to keep strong on his promises; to never leave her, and always be by her side
WHEN ANGEL FALLS IN LOVE
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days blurred in time as you and dean spent more of it together, the relationship you created flourishing into one of mutual respect, love, and understanding. dean was working on being wholly honest with you, not allowing those pesky thorns to prick and make you bleed when you would take the bricks of his walls down.
dean was making progress at his own pace, and you couldn’t help but be so proud of him.
he wasn’t the big mean and scary hunter he let others see. he was sweet, loving. a shy and docile man when it came to how he gave his love. the soft kisses he’d leave on your chest at night were a testament to that, alongside the featherlight pecks he’d leave all over your face in the morning when you woke up.
you were his darling girl, pretty beyond words in the eyes of the eldest winchester, and it was an exhilarating thrill to be loved by him.
you even started to notice knowing looks from sam as he was around the two of you; an eyebrow raise when he’d catch you and dean holding hands underneath the table in the library, a small smile as he watched dean not so sneakily rub your back as the three of you casually talked. he’d even given you a small thumbs up once when dean wasn’t looking, almost as if he was giving his acceptance without even vocalizing it.
though it had happened very few times, for you and dean spent most of your moments together alone, in the confines of your bedroom.
it was that honeymoon stage; two people who come together after a long time, not wanting to be with anyone else but each other. you and dean saw so much of one another, you were surprised you haven’t gotten sick of him yet and vice versa.
but it wasn’t like that. you two genuinely enjoyed each others company, and didn’t even need to be doing much when you were with one another. wether that be watching a movie together, telling stories from when dean was a child and when you were still up in heaven, to just laying together, you and dean enjoyed every moment you spent wrapped up in each others arms.
though there was a nagging part of you that believed dean wasn’t being fulfilled. you’ve kissed before, gone into heavy make out sessions that’s left you breathless, but you’ve never done anything intimate. anytime your ministrations would get to heated, the moment’s charged air turning into something more, you’d push dean away. you’d say you were tired or wanted to watch a new movie, but you could tell dean knew what you actually meant.
it wasn’t that you didn’t want to with dean. you really, really did. but you were new to all of this, and honestly, you were scared.
anytime you thought of the idea of dean fucking you, it brought a nervous pit to your stomach. it would grow deeper and deeper into the core of your soul anytime you’d think of what it would feel like. would it hurt? would you enjoy it? or the worst of all, would dean be disappointed with it afterwards?
you knew you should talk to dean about it, that the conversation was inevitable, but you wanted to hold off for a bit, stay in this perfect utopia that you two had created in your bed.
that’s why as your movie night turned into another heated make out, you started to feel that spout of worry as dean’s lips started sliding down your collarbones, lips reaching the hem of your tank top above your breasts.
“dean, wait.” you breathed, caging his face in your hands as you lifted his face up. “i’m sorry i can’t do this.”
the worry in dean’s eyes was palpable, millions of possible reasons why you were saying that shining behind his eyes. in an instant, he got off of you, helping you so you were sitting up on the bed, his own body across from yours as he clutched his hand in yours. “what’s wrong, sweet girl. was it something i did?”
you immediately shook your head, clutching his hands tighter to give him so peace of mind. “no dean, this is completely me. i just need to tell you something.”
“of course. you can talk to me angel, i’m always here for you.” his encouraging words and soft eyes had a breath leaving your lips, palms growing sweaty as dean’s hands danced across your forearms.
“i’ve never had sex before!”
dean’s hands froze on your arms, eyes widening as he took in what you just said. immediately, he pulled you into his lap, your legs straddling his waist as his hands went to your hips.
“yeah, i could’ve guessed that angel. i didn’t expect heaven to be very lenient on angel fornication.” the smirk that adorned his lips at the last words had a nervous laugh bubbling from your lips, but it was halted as you felt dean’s fingers brush some of your hair back. “why did you feel the need to tell me that?”
his question wasn’t cruel, it was just pure, soft curiosity. he was allowing you to communicate with him, let all your worries and fears seep into his pores. you couldn’t help it, the words coming out like a tidal wave.
“i know you want to do it, that’s why,” you rushed out, hands moving about as you spoke at a quick pace. “and i’m worried you think i’m so prude who keeps stopping you anytime we get too close. what if it hurts? what if you don’t like doing it with me-“
“woah woah woah,” dean broke into your rant, fingers grabbing your chin to make you face him. “why would you think that? first of all, doing anything with you would feel more amazing than words could describe, so don’t ever think about that again, okay baby?”
you just nodded, letting him continue with what he wanted to say. “and secondly, i don’t think your some prude. i guessed you probably haven’t done it before, and i was waiting for when you gave the green light. i would never do something if you weren’t comfortable. so whenever your ready, tell me. i’ll always be here.”
a soft smile broke out onto your face, throwing yourself into dean’s chest as he hugged you back. as he held you tight, rubbing his hands through your hair, you realized that dean was the perfect person to have this moment with, and that you were ready for it. now.
“dean,” you breathed in his ear, feeling as he nodded against your head. “i think i’m ready now.”
he instantly pulled back, hands on your shoulders as he stared into your eyes, trying to see if there was any hesitation in your irises. “are you sure, angel? i don’t want you to feel pressured.”
“yes, i’m sure dean.” you smiled, hand brushing against his cheek as his own ran from your shoulders to your lower back. “i want to have this moment with you.”
in an instant, the air shifted. a more charged and heated atmosphere licking around the two of you. dean’s hands gripped onto your hips, slightly lifting off his lap and putting you back on your bed. “whatever you want, babydoll. i just need you to lay down for me okay?”
you nodded, leaning your body backwards before dean gripped onto your hips tighter, eliciting you to stop your movements. “i need words baby, i won’t do anything until you’re vocal with me.” a blush rippled through your cheeks at his lightly dominant tone, a soft, ‘okay’ leaving your lips before you rested your head against your pillows, dean getting on top of you, propping himself up on his hands until he was nose to nose with you.
“good girl.” he breathed, not letting you respond before his lips attacked yours in a punishing kiss. his mouth on yours was bruising, your lips having a hard time keeping up with his fast pace. though somehow, the kiss was still soft, a testament to this being your first time.
when dean’s lips started moving down your throat, sucking and biting at your sensitive skin and collarbones, you felt a little whine leave your throat. dean groaned at this, lifting his head up from your neck and going to remove his shirt.
“first time i’m hearing you like this and i’m hooked. can’t wait to hear what you sound like when i’m buried deep inside of you.”
his words were vulgar, not something a lot of people would like to hear. but it was dean, and the blush that coated your face said otherwise. his hands started messing with the hem of your tank top, indicating that he wanted it off.
tentatively lifting your arms, you felt the cold brush of air across your body as your bare chest was displayed to dean’s eyes. your shirt was thrown somewhere in the room as dean groaned again, his hands immediately going to cup your supple breasts. when his fingers started tweaking your nipples, a deep moan ripped from your throat, shocking you as dean just smirked at you.
“you sound so pretty baby,” he breathed, body sliding down yours as he rested his chin on your pelvis. “but i’m going to make you feel even better, okay? just need you to lift your hips for me.”
you obliged, feeling as dean’s warm fingers dipped into the waistband of your sleep shorts, slowly sliding them down your thighs. now left in only your lacy pink underwear, you watched as dean’s eyes raked up and down your body, a blown out expression on his face as he saw you mostly bare to him.
“so fucking beautiful,” he breathed out. a low sound that almost sounded like it was intended for just dean’s ears. “truly the sweetest thing.”
his words were amplified by his hands sliding down your thighs, spreading them open slowly so he could fit in between them. his fingers started messing with the waistband of your panties, fingers dipping below the fabric and sliding one of his fingers through your already slick folds.
you whimpered at the sensation, a volatile feeling that ripped through your body at the brush of dean’s hand. the man in question just smirked, pulling your underwear down all the way until your pussy was bared fully to him. “you’re already so wet, sweet thing. it’s fucking addicting.”
“dean please,” you whined, rutting your hips upward into his hand. “do something.”
“patience, darling girl.” he breathed, bending down and grabbing your thighs so he could put them over his shoulders. “i’m just getting started.”
his words were followed by a tentative lick throughout your folds, a hollow moan leaving your lips at the ministration. dean began lapping up your juices, hands gripping so tightly into your thighs you knew there was going to be a bruise in the morning.
the feeling of his mouth on your wet core was intoxicating, a feeling of such immobilizing pleasure you weren’t even sure if you could describe it. each flick of his tongue was met with a rut of your hips, your pelvis lifting towards the euphoric feeling of dean’s mouth.
“fuck dean,” you moaned, hands carding through his hair, tugging at the strands. the feeling elicited a groan from dean’s lips, making you moan louder as the feeling shot up into your core. “more, i need more.”
one of his fingers moved down to circle at your clit, making your moans become more frequent. the pleasure from both his tongue and finger was unbearable, a rippling pleasure that stirred in the depths of your gut. this was all so new, feelings you’ve never felt before, but you didn’t want it to stop, honestly mad you’ve never felt this good before.
when your hips rutted as dean’s tongue prodded at your entrance, allowing the tip of his tongue to enter your tight hole, you couldn’t contain the loud whine coming from your lips. this gave dean full permission to fully enter his tongue into your wet heat, finger still moving on your clit and making you see stars.
dean winchester was fucking you with his tongue, hands clasped tight on your shaking thighs, and you wouldn’t be anywhere right now but splayed on this bed, completely at his mercy.
when that tight coil in your stomach started to grow tighter, your moans grew louder, alerting dean that you were close to your orgasm. at that his tongue’s pace grew faster, flicking it back and forth inside of your gummy walls as his finger continued to prod and circle at your clit.
the feeling when your climax washed over you was like any other. that euphoria from before went all over your body; from your head to your fucking toes. a loud scream ripped from your lips, dean’s name leaving your lips like a prayer. your legs were shaking uncontrollably, legs clamping around dean’s head as his tongue slowly lapped up your juices, moaning into your mound at the taste of you.
“good fucking girl, baby.” you heard him breath out, head lifting from your cunt to look you in the eyes. his chin was glistening with your orgasm, and you couldn’t help but gap at the sight. “you taste so fucking good.”
you were panting heavy, watching as two of his fingers lapped up some of your juices, bringing them up to your lips. “taste yourself, pretty girl.” he smirked, watching as you stared down at him wide eyed. “see how fucking sweet you are.”
when your fingers wrapped around his fingers, you couldn’t help but moan around them. the salty taste of your release invaded your senses, alongside the feeling of dean’s fingers prodding at the back of your throat. you made direct eye contact with him as your tongue swirled around his finger, watching as his mouth parted and his chest heaved up and down.
you let his fingers go with a pop, watching as dean made quick work of taking his pants off, leaving him only in a pair of boxers.
“dean?” you breathlessly questioned, still coming down from your first orgasm. you watched as he lowered himself on top of you, peppering light kisses across your neck. “what are you doing?”
“you think you can take another one, babydoll?” your eyes widened his words, watching as he grinned at your reaction. “was just prepping you for my cock, sweet girl. but we can stop right now if you want, go further another night.”
“no,” you shook your head, lifting your bare cunt into dean’s hardened erection. “i wanna feel you inside of me dean, make me feel all good inside.”
dean moaned at your words, lifting himself a little ways off of you so he could slip his boxers down his legs. his member came into your eyesight, angry and red as it hit his stomach. he was big, and you were worried about how it was going to fit inside of you.
“okay baby,” he breathed out, rubbing his dick in between your folds and listening to you whine at the sensation. “relax for me, okay? this might hurt, so tell me when you want me to move okay?”
his constant reassurance made you smile, lightly leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. he reciprocated, deepening the kiss as he entered into your tight walls. the moan you released into his mouth was loud, muffled by his lips on yours. the stretch of dean’s dick was suffocating, a painful yet comforting sensation that you couldn’t help but pant at.
dean’s moan mixed with yours as he entered you, feeling like he was going to fucking burst right there. “jesus, angel, you’re so fucking tight.” his words came out through gritted teeth, his resolve slipping as your walls clenched around his intrusion.
dean had fully sheathed himself inside of you, the tip of his member pressing against your cervix. you looked down to where the two of you were connected, seeing a bulge in your tummy to where his dick rested inside of you.
as you got used to the feeling of dean inside of you, he was brushing his hand down your hair, whispering sweet words in your ear as you panted heavily into his ear.
after a couple of moments, the dull pain in your abdomen turned into a searing pleasure, making your pants turn into little whines. your whines came out in the form of dean’s name, your words coming out breathless. “move, please. i need you to move.”
“okay, i’ve got you baby. i’m right here.” dean’s words were followed by his hips retracting slowly out of you, only leaving the tip of his dick inside of you before he slowly rutted back into you. you let out of deep mewl, hands gripping onto dean’s shoulders and digging your hands into his back.
his first couple of thrusts were experimental, slowly pulling out and moving back in. the pleasure was blinding, nothing you’ve ever felt before, but as his slow thrusts continued, you needed more. tightening your legs around your waist, you melded your pelvis with dean’s, nails creating crescent shapes on his shoulders. “harder dean. please, i need you to fuck me harder.”
dean didn’t waste a second until his face was in between your shoulder a neck, hips snapping back into your walls at a bruising pace. the position of your hips left him slamming into your g-spot, high moans leaving your lips at every snap of dean’s hips.
“you feel so fucking good, sweets.” dean groaned into your neck, heavy breaths hitting your skin as he went impossibly deep. “gripping me so good and tight.” his hand went to press on the bulge in your stomach, and you felt nothing but bliss hit your senses
a loud and deep moan left your mouth, hips lifting up to meet dean’s hard thrusts. it was a back and forth movement, a delicious feeling that left you into a moaning mess. dean’s hands on your hips were bruising, and you could feel each of his thrusts move you up the mattress more and more.
the tight coil you felt before come back, moans growing louder and more frequent as your orgasm approached you. dean’s movements became more quick at the realization, mouth moving to your ear so he could groan into your ear.
“you gonna come darling girl? gonna milk my cock like the pretty thing you are? let me fill you with my seed?” his words had a high pitched whimper leaving your lips, your hips rutting faster into dean’s and your orgasm approaching even quicker. the sensation of dean thrusting deeply into you was otherworldly, the thick ridges and veins of his cock rubbing all the right places. his dick continuously hitting your g-spot.
one final, punishing thrust was what pushed you over the edge, a loud whimper leaving your lips as you came all around dean’s dick. your walls convulsed around dean as the sensation felt like a straight shot of bliss, slight overstimulation racking your body as dean continued to thrust into you, riding out your orgasm.
“fuck, angel,” dean groaned, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he panted heavily in your neck. “i’m gonna come.” grabbing dean’s face between your hands, you brushed your lips against his as small whines left your lips. “come in me dean, fill me up,”
your words had dean coming with a groan, his body dropping on top of yours as he panted heavily into your mouth. the feeling of his seed filling you was euphoric, your legs falling from his hips as you came down from your high.
as both you and dean came down from your highs, dean still laid on top of you as his softening dick rested inside of your walls, you felt a deeper sense of connection between you two. dean saw you at your most vulnerable, came inside of you and brought you towards that blinding pleasure. this moment allowed you to feel even more comfortable with the man, fully solidifying your love.
“i promised to never lie to you, angel,” dean spoke softly, lifting his head from your neck to cup your cheek. “and i can’t lie now and say that i don’t love you.”
a lone tear fell down your face at his confession, hands leaving his shoulders to card through his hair. “i’ve never experienced love like this before, but i think it feels like the sensation running through my soul right now.”
dean let a bright smile adorn his face, leaning down to press a deep kiss on your lips. you would’ve never guessed all this to happen when you landed beneath the willow tree, a crazy thought to think about how you two started off with hatred, you believing the man who just took your virginity hated you. though now, you knew that was never the case.
you knew dean winchester loved you, and that he was the reason you fell in love for the first time.
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TAGS: @floralscented @deansbeer @titsout4jackles @haunteres @honeyryewhiskey @starzify @figthoughts @fallbhind @rubyvhs @foolinthera1n @taurus-0-queenie-33 @vaiieydoii @bitchykittenconnoisseur @galacticalllcafffeine @jasvtsc @pascal-rascal424 @annoyingstrawberryballoon @fayeisuppose @angel-inspiredblog @geisterfvhrer @bluemerakis @si1ver06 @drqstqr @wh0s-ra3 @supernatural-bangtanboys @whump-loverz @mostlymarvelgirl @d3anwinchesterswife @youdontknowe @oceanolokys @chxrrybobaby-sin @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @hoyoooo @mimiimmii
*i didn’t want to make this too long, so i’m sorry if it’s a little rushed😭 either way, thank you all for the love on when angel falls in love!! idk when my next series will be, but after all the love i got from this one, it will definitely be soon!!
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