#‘she’s filled with potential that I could guide’
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“History repeats itself” is 100% true when it comes to ship wars. I joined the Hazbin Hotel fandom, saw the discourse around Radiobelle, and thought “Oh no, it’s Brumira all over again.”
Except in this case, Alastor and Charlie aren’t even related. Or the same species. And haven’t met before the hotel. And Charlie is almost a century older than him. All of which makes the Radiobelle discourse even more insane, because there isn’t the possibility of actual incest. Unless you ship Alastor with one of Charlie’s parents—or both.
Please. Please stop acting like they’re physically father-daughter. They’re not. “But Charlie sees him as a father figure” she sees him as a MENTOR. Ffs.
#hazbin hotel#encanto#ship wars#radiobelle#charlastor#brumira#PLEASE stop#i can understand the Brumira antis#but please please PLEASE stop reading into dynamics#alastor doesn’t want a daughter he wants a STUDENT#‘she’s filled with potential that I could guide’
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RESPONSIBILITY. LEADERSHIP. STRESS
#Hazbin Hotel#hazbinhotel#hazbin hotel memes#charlastor#chalastor#radiobelle#aracha#musicalshipping#alastor#charlie morningstar#the radio demon#loool#she's filled with potential i could guide
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Alastor: I'm gonna be a manipulative asshole!
Rosie: Okay, sweetie, have fun~!
#hazbin hotel#alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#rosie#hazbin hotel rosie#feathers rambling#this is about episode 7#the 'she's filled with potential that I could guide' 'I concur' lines#in Ready For This#Bros gonna manipulate the princess of hell and get attached by accident and then throw a fit about it#and Rosie's gonna watch with a cup of tea#I hope we see more of them#incorrect quotes#hazbin hotel incorrect quotes
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I wrote the full parody to Ready For This in the Role Reversal AU because I wanted to lol.
Transcription below.
Ready For This (Role Reversal AU parody)
Alastor: Have you ever wanted something
That was so clear in your mind that you could taste it?
Susan: You mean like ice cream you get for a friend?
Alastor: Ha! No.
It's a feeling like a rumbling in your gut
That you could finally be faced with
A million greedy faces, I guess what I mean to say is
For the first time in my life
I might have to be ready for this
Ready to be the one who's leading from the front
Couldn’t do it on my own
And history has shown
Legends cannot win wars alone
The burden is a bit too heavy
So I need to be ready for this
Have you ever felt like you're willing to kill
To save the people on your own team?
Susan: I don’t know, seems a bit extreme…
Alastor: Not to me!
'Cause right now, we need a leader
And it seems to be that
Charlie is forcing me to be that
because she’s pissy
So who's with me?
Wouldn't it just be swell to see more of Hell?
Join up now if you like travel
Come on girls, prepare for battle!
Lotta sights to see en route to the hotel
Not to mention all of the glory!
Yes indeed, your enemies will cower
And heads will be severed!
Charlie: You’ll make a bunch of brand new friends!
Alastor: Whatever.
Exorcists: New friends!?
I'm in
Oh whoa
I’m so lonely
It's time now to act
They're on the attack
When they move to strike
Just know we’ve got your back!
We'll follow your lead
We're eager to see
everyone we meet
On the hellish retreat!
From this moment on, you can count us in
To be organized and disciplined
Our thirst for justice
keeps us strong, fierce, and brave
So I say, "Ho hey! Let’s join in his crusade!"
Alastor: Now thats the spirit! Can we amp it up?
Vaggie: Oh, don’t mind their hesitation, that’s just their new inclination
Alastor: But I can awaken their bloodlust!
Vaggie: Careful, kid. Don’t push your luck!
Alastor: Fair enough…
Alastor and Vaggie: We're super duper grateful
To have you gals aboard
Exorcists: We can’t wait to hug an overlord! (Alastor: Yeah, sure...)
Alastor: For the first time in my life
Maybe I can be ready for this
I can be the marshal leading the parade
I can come into my own
And I think I've always known
My destiny could never be postponed
When they come for the hotel
I’ll give em hell cuz I’m ready for this!
Vaggie: They're dancing along?
They're singing his song!?
Charlie: Surprised?
Why, I knew he could do it all along!
Charlie and Vaggie: He’s bound to be redeemed, the dream has a chance!
Though he seemed hopeless at first glance…
Charlie: He’s filled with potential that I could guide!
Vaggie: Fine, I’m in.
Charlie and Vaggie: Stick with him, he will surely see the light!
All: For the first time in our lives
We know that we are ready for this
Vaggie: We’ll show them we can forgive and forget!
All: It's time to lend a hand
Alastor: It is time to take a stand! (Exorcists: Woohoo!)
Against overlords and their deadly threat!
All: We can provide your support
The time has come to stop a war
Defend your home, we're ready for...
THIS!
Alastor: I really hope that they’re ready for this...
#hazbin hotel#shitpost#omg thank u for being nice to me in the replies n tags u guys r cute🥹#role reversal au
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Guidance
Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader
Word Count: 2.1k
Notes: Near death experience, pre-cannon, I think it’s mostly spoiler free be wary,
Summary: You are thought to be the weakest member of your coven. After hearing it so often you begin to believe it. It’s not until you encounter a mysterious woman in the woods, that you get a glimpse of you true power.
An: 2 parter & part 2 should be up in a matter of minutes 🙂↕️🙂↕️🙂↕️. Hope you like this one. I'm really just free writing these as they come up in my head
Part 2 | Masterlist
You were the weakest in your coven. The others were miles ahead of you when it came to actually using magic. However no one knew as much about it as you did.
You spent your time reading hoping to come across something that would wake your full potential but you found nothing.
Your coven bullied you relentlessly for your shortcomings. You heard their harsh words every time you failed a task. You heard it when you were left to clean up after them. You heard it when they would ditch you in the woods claiming it would build merit.
“This isn’t funny you guys, it’s dark please,” you call through the trees.
No one answers, not that you expect them to. You try to cast a light spell just enough to hold it in your hand, but you fail.
You start to hear noises in the woods surrounding you. Quickly you turn your back and take a defensive stance. You feel the hairs stand up against the back of your neck, and a light sweat begin to coat your forehead.
“I- I am armed,” you lie trying to reason with the darkness
When a figure steps out, you feel yourself start to shake. It was hard to see, but the hooded figure was illuminated by the soft light of the moon.
She was beautiful, something unnatural like you’ve never seen before. The warmth in her face, the faint rosy tones of her cheeks, the deep luxury of expensive leather in her eyes. She has stunned you into silence.
“You’re freezing,” is the only thing she says to you.
In your fear you hadn’t noticed the cold bite of the night. However as the stranger points it out you can feel a numbness start to take a place in your body.
“My coven�� they like to play tricks on me like this,” you cast your gaze down, afraid to look into her eyes.
“That’s not very funny,” she speaks gently.
You raise your gaze to look at her, “It’s because I’m the weakest member. I can’t even cast a simple spell to light a path.”
The mystery woman shakes her head , “I don't think that’s true.”
She removes her cloak and drapes it over your shoulder.
“You’ll freeze miss,” you try to reason with her, but she just chuckles.
“Give me your hand,” she commands.
You hesitate but place your hand in hers. She lays your palm up flat.
“What are you do-”
“Think of something warm, like a blanket or a coat,” she guides you.
“Ok,” you mumble following her directions.
She praises you, “Very good, now move from warm to hot. Think of the blistering sun or an oven or… fire.”
When she says fire she can already see the ball growing in your hand. She looks over to see if you’re witnessing your power, but your eyes are closed.
“Now what? Hello?”
You open your eyes and the woman had vanished. Your eyes lock on the ball of fire illuminating from your hand. You had never been able to do something like this before.
With the stranger’s cloak around you and the ball of fire in your hand you were able to find your way back to the coven. You snuffed out the fireball before getting too close to the cabins.
“That’s a new record Y/n, we almost didn’t think you’d make it back,” one of the bullies snickers.
Instead of entertaining them with a stutter filled response like you usually do, you just walk past them. The woman from the woods still in your mind. You look at your hand that held the fire ball. Was she responsible for it, or could you do it on your own.
You do just like she instructed. Thinking of something warm and then hot. This time watching as your fingertips began to glow and fire danced in your palm.
Maybe you had been letting the words of the others get to you. Perhaps you had power just like theirs hidden somewhere underneath all of that doubt.
You decided that you would press the limits of your powers until your knowledge matched your ability. As soon as you began believing in yourself, the power seemed to surge through you.
You kept the woman’s cloak as you trained your powers. Often sneaking off in the night to teach yourself as your coven still believed you to be a weakling.
It’s a few months later, when your powers are much more refined that you grow tired of the teasing. You’re certain that you are more powerful than the other members of the coven.
“Hey Y/ln,” you turn at the sound of your last name.
A ball of mud thuds against your face and the sound of laughter rings in your ears. You try to calm yourself down as your anger begins to rise.
“Look she’s going to cry.”
“Chin up Y/n, you’re too old for tears.”
“I’m sure there’s a spell you can’t use that would be helpful right now.”
You felt hot all over. Like the rage was boiling your blood. Your fists were clenched together at your side. You felt the mud harden over your face before cracking off like it was a rock.
“Who threw it?” Your voice is low.
The laughter has stopped. They all look at you paralyzed with fear. You were on fire from your head to your toes. Pupils engulfed in flames.
“WHO THREW IT?” You repeat louder.
“We were just teasing Y/n, restrain yourself.”
You take a deep breath, and for a moment the flames die down.
“Freak,” someone mumbles.
That’s all it takes for you to shoot the fire out of your hand towards your coven members. Most of them moved out of the way.
The one’s who were too slow, did not have the time to scream. They were piles of ashes almost instantly. The others yell in their place, tears streaming down.
Their cries do something to pull you from your rage. You begin blinking rapidly. Your body feels empty on the inside, warmth was no longer there replaced by a bone chilling cold.
You pass out. When your coven sisters were aware that weren’t getting up again, they ran. They ran all the way to the mother of your coven to tell her what you did. They decided you would die for your actions.
When you gained consciousness you found yourself in a large glass. On the opposite side of the glass were your peers. You tried talking to them but none of them responded.
You weren’t truly panicking until the water started to flood into the sides of the glass. You began to bang on the glass, it did not relent. The water was ice cold as it started to climb up your legs.
“Please, please,” you beg them, tears streaming down your face.
“You never belonged in this coven, even with power, you are still a weakling,” the mother of the coven spat at you.
You felt your insides begin to burn again, but the cold water feels like it's putting out the fire. The water begins to rise. The higher it rises the more you fight against the execution.
Water begins to fill your lungs and you cough. It only makes more water enter your body. You begin to loose consciousness this time noting you won’t be waking again.
Your eyes flutter and before they close, you see a large flash of purple. You hear the glass tank you’re in begin to crack. You’re back is against the ground and your eyes are wide open.
“Is she breathing?”
“Do CPR.”
“Rio, I don't even know this gi-"
“DO THE CPR, AGATHA.”
Soon Agatha begins doing chest compressions on you. She hears a very feint heart beat. She moves to mouth to mouth. She tries to blow air into your lungs 2 or 3 times.
Eventually you start coughing, and she gains some distance.
“Are you alright bunny?”
You shake your head trying to clear the ringing.
“How did you?”
Your eyes begin to focus. You see the lifeless bodies of your coven members behind her. It makes you scramble back away from the woman.
“Hey, hey take it easy. They were trying to kill you, I did the right thing,” the woman tries to rationalize with you.
“What's your name?” You attempt to scramble to your feet.
“ Agatha Harkness. I’m not going to hurt you,” she stays in place eyes boring into yours.
Your eyes shift to the bodies once more, “How can I be sure?”
“She’s not going to hurt you, Y/n,” that voice was familiar to you.
You look behind you to see the woman you had come across in the forest. Seeing her in the daylight brings a brighter hue to your already flush cheeks. You begin to cough again.
“You- you put the fire in my hand,” you sputter.
She shakes her head, “That fire was inside of you, long before we crossed paths my sweet.”
“How did you find me?”
Agatha laughs, “Tell her how you found her Rio. Who you really are?”
Rio glares at Agatha, “Shut up, Agatha.”
“Who are you?” You whisper.
“I am Death,” she states.
You look at her waiting for her to say sike. To admit that this was some cruel joke, but she doesn't. Instead she just looks at you with her doe eyes.
“Let’s get you dry, bunny” Agatha says and with a flick of her hand, your clothes are dry.
“You wear my cloak.”
You pull it closer to your body, “ Keeps me warm.”
“I have been… drawn to you for some reason Y/n. You could've easily froze to death that night we met. You were so close, but then I interfered. It wasn’t your time yet. So I decided to offer you warmth.”
You stare up at her, “You must be mistaken. I am not… there’s nothing special about me. Especially nothing good enough to have Death save my life.”
“What did you do too have your whole coven turn against you?”
You stutter, “I- I got upset.”
Rio pushes you to further explain, “And what happened when you got upset?”
Your jaw twitches, “I started to feel hot on the inside.”
“And then what, bunny?”
You feel the fire roaring numbly inside of you, “I was covered it in fire. I shot it at them for teasing me. Some… some of them didn't move quick enough. ”
You begin to hyperventilate as the reality of your actions set in. You had killed people, their blood on your hands. Technically your entire coven was dead because of you.
“Deep breaths,” Agatha sits in front of you guiding you through the breaths. “Don’t feel ashamed for doing what you had to do for survival. It's not always about who is the strongest or even who is the smartest, it’s about who survives.”
“But for the record you were more powerful and smarter than all of them, “ Rio shares.
“I don't understand,” you look between the two women.
“Y/n, you are an elemental witch. It’s like a green witch on steroids,” Agatha explains.
You scoff, “Just because I made a fireball, anybody can do that.”
“You just said you were engulfed in flames,” Rio counters.
“Well that's just fire there are other elements,” you say, sure of your words.
Agatha nods, “Indeed there are, but you’ve only tried to play with fire. Give me your hand.”
Just like you had done months ago with Rio, you give Agatha your hand. She holds it face up with her own under yours.
“Now what?”
“Think of a flower. Any kind of flower. Be sure in the details. How long is the stem, does it have leaves on it? How big is the flower, is it multicolored?”
You follow Agatha’s instructions and easily enough a flower is sprouting out of your hand.
“How curious?” Rio glances at the flower you’ve made.
“What?” You ask gently pulling the flower from your palm.
“You made a Rio Dipladenia,” Agatha speaks breathless for a moment.
You furrow your brows, “Is that a bad thing?”
“No, it’s not. That flower, I created it for Agatha, so it’s quite the coincidence that you would think to make it,” Rio informs you.
A blush spreads across your face, “Oh, would you… do you want the flower, Agatha?”
Agatha’s eyes snap to Rio before settling on you, “You’re adorable, doll.”
“I agree, too adorable to be wandering the forest alone and untrained. Come with us Y/n, we will help you reach your full potential,” Rio insists.
You look between the two for a moment, contemplating. You had nothing. Your coven was dead, your powers were unpredictable at best, and you couldn’t stand the thought of being alone.
You slowly nod, “Ok.”
“Good choice, bunny.”
#lowkeyerror#agatha x reader#agatha harkness x reader#agatha harkness#agatha harkness x rio vidal#rio vidal x reader#rio vidal#agatha harkness x rio vidal x reader
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Overlords + child overlord reader
!!!Not proofread!
Alastor: “They're filled with potential that I could guide!” Yeah, he’d try to recruit you. Listen while I know this probably would never happen I think it would be funny if he actually started seeing you as his kid. Like this man did not think of even slightly liking you, but here you are as his kid. Anywho- He would trust you to go out by yourself. I mean you're literally an overlord. But you're also a kid who is seen as weak and an easy target. While you usually deal with it, you have been hit a few times. Since you’ve become his kid his Radio show is never running low on screams. You make fun of Vox together at meetings.
Rosie: Do you want a new mom? Yes? Well, you’re in luck! No? Too bad! Either way, you’re adopted now, congrats. Maybe not legally but it’s hard to tell the difference with you too. Very impressed with how powerful you are at such a young age. A wee bit worried but still you’re powerful. Just tell her if someone does land a hit on you though, depending on her mood she might get a new meal. If need advice on anything, especially being an overlord, she’ll happily comply. Also, she will let you sit on her lap at meetings.
Vox: fucking Ipad baby For the most part he wouldn’t pay any mind to you tbh. But if you openly hate Alastor? There is a new member of the vees I’ll tell you that much. Even if your name does start with a v. You only really run into him on the street and in meetings though. Your ass is not going into the headquarters (or whatever it's called) because of a certain, as Velvette would say, piss baby. You're getting the latest technology. Whether you want it or not is irrelevant.
Velvette: Girlie (gender neutral) if you are on her good side you are spoiled. But you do have to get rid of ¾ of your closet. But you also get new clothes so you win some, you lose a few hundred. You are allowed into the v headquarters but only for short periods of time and in her area only. I would compare you to a sassy rich lady and her poodle. Carmilla: Listen I’m going to keep it real with you she does not want you to be an overlord. Like even if you guys don’t get along you’re still a child. Keeps a close eye on you. Anyway, she has three kids now. She’s leading the meeting while you're just sitting on her shoulders. No one dares mention it because they don’t want to find out if she’ll put her weapons to use. Very good life advice, it rivals Rosie’s. If were to get adopted by any overlord she’d be the best pick.
#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel alastor x reader#rosie x reader#velvette x reader#carmilla x reader#vox x reader#child reader
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healing
alexia putellas x reader you don't like to admit when something is wrong, alexia knows this. she also knows that with a a scheduled surgery coming up for you, she'd have to wade through these hidden emotions as best she could to support you. basically, r has a breast reduction surgery, and alexia does her best to take care of her, even when r is a bit resistant. this is, obviously, very self indulgent. potentially the most self indulgent fic i've ever written. it's very reflective of my experiences recently so. you know. i hope you enjoy. hugeeeeee thanks to @pickledwoso who sent the request in and gave me sooo many ideas to work with.
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You sat up with a loud gasp, clutching at your chest. The specifics of the nightmare evaded you instantly, but you knew it had been horrifying. Filled with needles and doctors and knives and pain.
“Amor?” Alexia mumbled groggily, emerging from where she was curled up under the covers, despite it being a warm evening. She had barely been dragged from sleep by the sound you had made, only one eye cracking open to look at you.“You okay?”
Unable to say much in response, you could only whimper quietly and shake your head. Alexia was wide awake in a second, sitting up and tilting your face towards her.
“Ale-” You cut yourself off with a sob, leaning forward to bury your face in your girlfriend’s soft sleep shirt.
Shaking once more, Alexia pulled you into her, cradling your body close. “What is wrong, mi amor?”
“I-I… nightmare. I had a nightmare.” You admitted, too far gone into panic to try to hide your anxiety from your girlfriend. Alexia didn’t say much for a while, just nodding her head to show that she’d heard you, before she got to work calming you down. She did it rather easily, reminding you to breathe, stroking her fingers through your hair. She was soft, gentle, loving, and her affection bled through every light touch. Alexia always cared for you so easily; she made it seem simple.
“Easy, just like that amor. In and out, slowly. It was just a dream, you’re right here with me. You’re okay.”
It took a few minutes for you to calm down, and even still, you were still practically vibrating with anxiety. Alexia shifted over so that you were curled against her chest, and she could lean back against the headboard. With your face barely visible buried into her shirt, your girlfriend couldn’t really tell if you were still crying or not. Breathing steadier, for sure, but the sniffles coming from you every so often told Alexia that you were still very upset.
The blonde began to run her fingers through your hair, massaging gently at your scalp. “Do you want to talk about it?”
You were quiet for so long, she was sure you’d fallen back asleep. “I don’t remember what happened. It was about the surgery I think.” You murmured finally. “I’m a little nervous, I guess.”
Alexia repressed a sigh. It was beyond clear to her, and had been for weeks, that you were more than mildly anxious about your scheduled breast reduction. She’d been waiting, less and less patiently, for you to just tell her how scared you were, but now the night before your surgery, she knew she couldn’t let this go on any longer.
Wrapping both her arms tight around you, she pulled you even closer before she spoke. “It seems like you are maybe more than a little nervous, hmm?”
“Why do you say that?”
“You seem completely terrified, mi amor.”
“I am nervous, but I know I want to do this. I’m sure, Ale, I’ve made my mind up, and I-”
“You can still be nervous, even if you feel confident in your decision. That’s okay, amor. Why would you think it’s not?”
“I… I just didn’t want you to try to change my mind.”
“Why would I do that?” She sounded confused, and logically, you knew why. Ale was a deeply respectful person, and she’d never ever presume to tell you what to do with your body. Ever.
No reply came, and Alexia realized you’d begun to tremble again. Frowning, she gently guided your chin up so she could look into your eyes, less than content with the anxiety so clear on your face. “Amor, talk to me. Please.”
“What if you don’t like them? You know… after?”
Alexia could have laughed at the completely ridiculous notion, but she saw the wet shine in your eye that told her you were completely serious. “Do not be silly. I will love them. ” She insisted.
“You love them now.” You argued. “They won’t be the same.”
Carefully, Alexia took your face in between her hands, insistently gazing down at you. “I know. They’ll be different. They won’t hurt you so much anymore, and that is all I want. Nothing will make me happier than you feeling better. I will love them, just like I love you.” She promised, her voice low and soothing. “You could get them removed completely, you could do anything, and it wouldn’t change how I feel about you. This is your body, mi amor. I love your body, and I will love it even when it changes.”
“But… it doesn’t have to change.” Chewing on your lip, you took in your girlfriend’s completely puzzled expression.
“I don’t understand. It doesn’t have to change, but you want it to, no?”
“I… don’t you think I’m being dramatic about this? A whole surgery just for some back pain…” Your words were not things you really believed. You knew you weren’t being dramatic, and you knew you were getting this done because of more than just back pain, although if you had, that would have been okay too. You’d just spent the last years hearing from your family and your doctors that you were being dramatic about your pain and the issues that came with having an absurdly large chest. Even getting a surgeon to agree to do the surgery was difficult, though you wouldn’t have even gotten there at all without Alexia.
Not until you were with her, did you find yourself being believed. When you said you were hurting, she believed you. She wasn’t skeptical that you were exaggerating, or just looking for attention. It was this earnest belief that had you reconsidering, and ultimately deciding on, a breast reduction. Now, though, the years that people had spent belittling you and your struggles were rushing back to you, and you very suddenly felt like you were being ridiculous.
The lights flickered on in the bedroom, and Alexia rolled back over to you. Having been lost in your thoughts, you’d missed her roll away to turn the bedside lamp on, and now she was studying you with a focused look on her face; one you knew to mean she was concerned.
Her hand found yours, and she absentmindedly pulled the shoulder of your shirt back up as she spoke. “It is not a little back pain. It is debilitating. This affects your whole life, amor, you’ve wanted this for years. You know you aren’t being dramatic. Where is this coming from, hmm?”
There was a deep reluctance in you to tell Alexia what you’d been through in the past with doctors and your family alike. You weren’t sure where it came from, or why it was so persistent, but you were too exhausted to fight it. Too terrified to even think of doing something that would make your anxiety spike.
Your girlfriend seemed to sense this reluctance, because she brought your intertwined hands to her lips, leaving a kiss on your knuckles. A part of you had expected her to be annoyed for not talking, but another part of you knew better. Alexia didn’t get mad about stuff like that. All she had for you now was a sweet smile, and another kiss for your cheek that had you blushing unnecessarily.
“We don’t have to talk about it.” She promised, mumbling the words against your face as she interspersed kisses in between her words. “You are not being dramatic. Your body changing does not bother me, could never bother me. I love you, and everything is going to be okay.”
Entire body seemingly deflating, you leaned heavily into your girlfriend, torn between exhaustion, anxiety, and the overwhelming feeling of being adored. It wasn’t one were sure you’d ever get used to. With your face tucked into Alexia’s chest, it was hard to feel anything but safe and reassured, so you focused on the soft fabric of her shirt against your cheek, instead of what would be occurring the following morning.
“I love you.” You murmured, burrowing in closer when your girlfriend tightened her arms around you. “Ale?”
“Hmm?”
“Will you come with me tomorrow? And stay?” You hated the vulnerability seeping from your words, didn’t want Alexia to ever see you as pathetically as you saw yourself.
She only nodded, though, rubbing your back slowly. “Of course, cariño.”
“It’s not too late to get out of training?”
Alexia gave you a soft smile, though slightly embarrassed, rubbing her thumb across your cheek affectionately. “I am already called out, mi amor. I was going to stay anyway.”
“You were?” You asked with a shy grin.
Alexia nodded enthusiastically. “Of course. I thought you might change your mind, and if you didn’t, well… I would have just pretended to go to training. I want to be there for you, and I would not be able to focus anyway.”
You were overcome, for a moment, with affection for your girlfriend. She always seemed to anticipate what you’d need even before you knew herself. There was something about not only being loved, but known by Alexia that made you feel like the most special person in the world. You felt it even more when she placed the gentlest of kisses on your lips, and smiled at you just enough that the dimples on her cheeks appeared.
“I am so lucky to have you.” You murmured, feeling emotion tug at you once again.
Alexia shook her head with a grin, almost exasperated. “It always amazes me that you think you are the lucky one, when it is me. Because you are perfect and beautiful and I love you.”
Before you could reply, and begin a back and forth of who was luckier, Alexia had pulled you to lay down practically on top of her, stretching her long arm to turn the bedside lamp off.
“You need to rest, amor.” She insisted. And though when you’d woken from the nightmare, you had been sure you wouldn’t be sleeping any more tonight, there was something so soothing about being held so securely against your girlfriend. Your eyes began to shut of their own accord when she began to run her fingers through your hair, and you wondered briefly if there was anything Alexia couldn’t do.
------
The following morning came much too quickly. The first alarm went off at 6, only rousing you. Knowing you still had 15 minutes before you had to get up and get ready, you curled yourself back into Alexia’s side, shutting your eyes tightly and pretending that today was no different than any other day. Of course, the persistent anxious shaking of your body woke your girlfriend, though, an alarm in and of itself.
It took her a second to realize what had woken her, as she couldn’t hear the alarm going off. Soon, though, she processed the way you were clinging to her, feeling her heart simultaneously melt and break.
“Oh, mi amor.” Alexia sighed, sliding her hand up the back of your shirt and splaying it across your spine, knowing you liked to feel her skin on yours.
“Sorry I woke you early.” You whispered.
“Don’t be sorry. I am always happy for 15 extra minutes to lay with you.” She said sweetly, tucking her face into your hair and sighing contentedly. She knew that if she kept herself calm, and didn’t react to your anxiety with her own, you’d be able to stay calmer.
It felt like only minutes later that your second alarm was going off, and you groaned into your girlfriend’s chest as it did. Extracting herself from your rather tenacious grip, Alexia quickly rose from the bed and walked around to your side, grabbing your hand before you could bury yourself under the covers.
“No hiding, amor. Time to be brave for me, sí?”
Not one to deny any of your girlfriend’s requests, you let her tug you from the bed with a pout, one she very determinedly kissed off your face. Once she was done with that, she pulled you into the bathroom.
“Okay. Shower quickly, I will eat something, and then we leave at 7:03.” She said, as if that was a normal time to plan to leave. You were long used to Alexia’s strict punctuality, though, so you just shook your head fondly at her. It was only when she attempted to pull away from you that your anxiety really rose, and you clung onto her hand with a look of panic on your face.
Alexia turned back to you, expression completely open, as if she was ready to do whatever you needed her to do to feel better.
“Shower with me?” You asked shakily, looking up at your girlfriend with wide eyes.
“Siempre, guapa.”
Your movements were practically robotic as you undressed yourself and allowed Alexia to guide you into the shower. For a moment, you allowed yourself to just rest against her under the warm stream of water, forcing yourself to breathe in and out slowly. As always when you showered together, Alexia insisted on washing you herself. Somehow, she knew that you needed to use the special medical soap on your chest, but could use your regular body wash everywhere else.
You thought you caught a glimpse of sadness as she gently washed over your chest, and she must have felt you stiffen under her hands, because she was tilting your chin up and looking down at you, forehead crinkled in concern.
“Are you sure you won’t hate what I look like after?” You asked, voice wobbling.
Your girlfriend’s face softened. “I am sure. I will love you all the same.”
“You won’t miss them?”
“Oh I will miss them. I should say farewell, no? Goodbye,” Alexia said wistfully, cupping each of your breasts in her hands. “I will miss you, but I will be happy when you stop bothering my pretty girlfriend.”
“Oh my god.” You rolled your eyes, flushing at the attention on your chest, but feeling your heart soar at how genuinely she seemed to mean what she was saying. You appreciated her honesty. It wouldn’t have been believable that she wouldn’t miss them at all; the blonde had made it very clear in your time together that she very much enjoyed them. But for Alexia, she’d happily give that up if it meant that you were happier and more comfortable. And then felt like another level of love she must have for you.
Alexia leaned down to kiss you again, this time a bit more intensely as the water rained down over your heads.
She broke away after a minute, a satisfied smile on her face telling you she was pleased that she had successfully distracted you. And distracted, you were.
“Do we have time to-”
“No.” Alexia said sternly. “That is why we made sure to have enough time last night. We will not be late because you are horny even after I made you co-”
“OKAY. I don’t want a reminder if I can’t really enjoy the reminder.” You argued, barely noticing how Alexia turned the shower off and wrapped you in a towel. She really was doing a good job distracting you, because the mere step forward in your morning routine didn’t make you nauseous like it normally would have.
The rest of the morning, Alexia went out of her way to keep you distracted. Whether it was giving herself a beard with bubbles in the shower, or forcing you to have an impromptu dance party in the kitchen while she ate a quick breakfast, your girlfriend gave you very little time for your mind to wander. Once you were in the car, though, it was inevitable. You were on the way, and there was nothing else to think about.
Alexia kept her hand on you throughout the ride, noticing as you grew quieter as she pulled out of the drive, and brushed a few tears away when you thought she wasn’t looking.
“Alright, mi amor?” She checked, well aware that you were not even close to alright.
“I’m so scared.” You whispered, Alexia just barely hearing your voice over the hum of the car engine. She moved her hand from your bouncing knee to grab onto your hand, squeezing it three times.
“I know. Everything is going to be okay, amor. They do this every day, you will be in such good hands.”
“What if I wake up in the middle?”
“You will not.” She sounded so sure.
“What if I don’t wake up at all?
“You will wake up.” Again, her voice was filled with confidence. Whether it was truly what she believed, or if she was just saying it for your sake, you didn’t know, but you appreciated it nonetheless.
“What if something goes wrong and I come out with three boobs or something?”
“I will buy a sewing machine, and get to work making bras for three boobs.” Alexia said seriously.
You gave a wet laugh, wiping at your eyes. Alexia smiled at you happily, fixing her eyes back on the road as the light turned green. Her hand didn’t leave yours the rest of the way to the hospital.
------
Without Alexia there with you, it was likely that you would have bolted out the front doors of the hospital within a few minutes of arriving. You weren’t alone, though, and Alexia began to resort to absolutely ridiculous tactics to distract you and see a smile on your face.
First, she blew up a glove she found in the room you were brought to wait in and then let it fly all around. It wasn’t really funny but the way she released it, and then looked at you with a hopeful grin on her face made you laugh anyway. If you counted correctly she made six bad jokes when they made you take a pregnancy test, that had you giggling even though they were quite juvenile. As the nurse put your IV in, the blonde reminded you of the time she got stitches in her leg on the sidelines of the football pitch, in the middle of the game, going so far as to point out the scar on her shin that you’d seen many times before. This wasn’t really funny either, but the somewhat disturbed look on the nurse’s face was.
She was goofy when you needed her to be, she was serious and listened carefully whenever anyone was telling her important information, and she didn’t let go of your hand for the entirety of the pre op process. The minute your heart began to pound in your chest, or tears began to well in your eyes, you’d feel her squeeze your hand, and feel inexplicably comforted. Realistically, you knew Alexia had no ability to keep you safe once you were in the operating room. Still, you had the overwhelming feeling that because she was here with you, nothing bad could happen.
“Okay, it’s time.” The nurse said kindly, walking into the room just moments after the surgeon had left. He had drawn all over you while answering Alexia’s seemingly endless questions about your recovery.
You looked at the blonde next to you, willing yourself to remain calm, breathe deeply. She leaned in, kissing you softly. Once on the lips, then once on each cheek.
“I love you. You are going to do so well, mi amor. I will be right here when you wake up.” She promised, helping you to your feet and squeezing your hand one last time. “Brave for me, okay?” the last part was whispered just for you to hear, and you nodded.
You could be brave for her. For her, you could do anything.
“I love you, Ale.”
She smiled at you until you disappeared out of sight, finally allowing the anxiety she’d been repressing all morning to let itself be known. It was going to be a long three hours, and she’d known that. She was absolutely resolved not to let you see her own nerves, knowing they’d only make you feel worse. Already calling her Mami as she was led to the waiting room, she hoped she did a good job at making you feel more comfortable. And she hoped, more than anything, that you’d be okay.
-------
It felt nearly impossible to keep your eyes open. They opened and closed of their own accord, the room a bit different every time. Very vaguely, you recognized the surgeon coming to talk to you, saying something about everything going well. A nurse asked you about pain, and you focused enough to notice a slight twinge on your chest.
The only coherent thought you had, though, was of your girlfriend. She said she’d be here when you woke up, and the beautiful blonde was nowhere in sight.
“Would you like a sip of water?” The nurse asked kindly, holding a straw up to your mouth. You shook your head, though, frowning dramatically.
“Alexia.” You murmured, eyes falling shut once again. The nurse chuckled, replying even though she wasn’t sure you were hearing her. The heart monitor attached to you was making a rhythmic beeping sound, and you were bobbing your head along to it gently, though you didn’t seem aware of it.
“We’ll bring you out of recovery in a few minutes, and then you can see her.”
Sure enough, you felt the strange sensation that you were moving, before you opened your eyes once again. Now in a different room, there was a smiling face next to yours, a gentle touch on your cheek.
“Ale.” You sighed happily, eyes half shut, but a big smile adorning your features.
“Hi, bonita.” Alexia chuckled. “How are you feeling?”
“Mmm.” You hummed. “Sleepy.”
Alexia thought you looked incredibly adorable, all groggy and happy to see her. Clumsily, you reached for her hand, pulling it to cup your cheek. Your girlfriend laughed lightly, stroking her thumb over your cheek bone.
“Are you in any pain?”
“I loveeeeeee you.” You sang, clumsily patting her face with your free hand.
Alexia laughed again, her features soft as she gazed down at you. “I love you too, cariño. Can you tell me if anything hurts?”
“Nothin’ hurts.” You slurred. “Are my boobs small?”
“Sí, look. The buttons on your shirt aren’t pulling apart anymore.”
You’d bought several cotton button up pajama shirts especially for the occasion, having been told not to lift your arms above your head to put a shirt on. As always occurred with button ups, though, the buttons pulled tightly across your chest. Or, they had. Now, the shirt sat unstretched across your chest, and you felt a staggering amount of joy course through you.
“Oh.” You said weakly, blinking hard as your eyes filled with tears.
Alexia’s face fell. “What? Does something hurt? What’s wrong?” She asked frantically, looking around for something to stop the pain you weren’t actually feeling.
“No, no. It’s good, it’s happy. They’re small and my shirt fits. Shirts like this never fit right and now they do.” You cried, too out of it to really feel embarrassed for crying so hard over such a small thing.
“Oh, amor.” Alexia whispered, feeling like crying herself. She knew more than anyone how much you struggled with the way you’d looked before. She’d genuinely never seen you look so happy over your appearance before, and it was her new favorite thing. “I’m so happy you’re happy.”
“I’m happy.” You mumbled, allowing Alexia to dry your face of tears. Carefully, Alexia brought the water to your lips again, and this time you drank some, feeling more and more awake with every passing second. And even though she was pretty sure you wouldn't remember this later, Alexia had to make sure you knew something.
“You know what, amor?” She asked.
“What?”
“You are beautiful. Even more beautiful now, with such a happy smile on your face.”
It didn’t matter that you’d just cried, or that your hair was a mess. It didn’t matter that you were decidedly not beautiful at the moment. Because Alexia thought you were, and that made you think it, too. More than ever before, you felt beautiful like she said you were.
------
The first two days went pretty smoothly. Everything ached a bit too much for you to really do anything on your own, and Alexia was more than happy to help. The trouble came after you were given clearance to shower, on the third day of your recovery. You wanted to do it by yourself, and Alexia was insisting on helping you.
“No, Ale.” You snapped, trying to sit up and get out of bed on your own. Alexia wouldn’t move, though, still perched next to your legs, arms resting on either side of you, and honestly, you needed her help to get upright.
She was being overly patient with you, and that only bothered you more; you didn’t like to be treated like you were fragile. “Amor, it says in the instructions, ‘have someone nearby to help for the first few showers.’’”
“Nearby. Not in the bathroom with me. I’ll be fine, please just let me do this myself.”
“It is not safe, I would like to be in there with you. I don’t understand, you have never had a problem with showering me before.” Alexia’s hazel eyes squinted at you, as though she was trying to visually ascertain what the issue was.
“It’s different.” You grumbled, feeling your stomach twist at the idea of your girlfriend having to do another thing for you. Enough was enough, you had to be independent. If you couldn’t shower on your own, you’d feel completely helpless and you hated to feel helpless.
“How is it different?” Alexia wondered, her patience with you still unwavering.
“It just is! Move so I can get up, please.”
The blonde just shook her head. “Not until you tell me how it’s different.”
“Alexia, I am disgusting right now, I’m gonna be all bruised and swollen and I haven’t showered in two days. It’s gross, I’m gross.”
She didn’t even blink, as though she’d already known this. “I don’t care about that, cariño. I just want to make this easier for you. Please let me help.”
“I don’t need help.”
“You do, and that’s okay. Please, amor, just let me come into the bathroom with you. I’ll sit on the counter if you want me to, but let me be in the room. Please.”
Your girlfriend had a way of asking you things and making her eyes wide as she did so, making you agree without really thinking. It was genuinely difficult to say no to someone so pretty, who very clearly just wanted the best for you. This was how you found yourself in the bathroom, allowing Alexia to carefully unbutton your shirt and remove the bra from your chest.
You’d tried to do it yourself at first, but it was ridiculously difficult to get your arms to do what you wanted them to do without pressing against your chest or your sides, and your yelp of pain had Alexia firmly telling you that she was helping you, and that was that.
You waited for her face to turn disgusted, or at least for her eyes to give her away. It didn’t happen. She looked pained at the sight of the bruising on your body, but that was sympathetic. The kiss she gave you filled your body with warmth, but that warmth disappeared as soon as Alexia stepped away to turn on the shower, and you turned to look at yourself in the mirror.
It was the first time you were really seeing your reflection, seeing the full results of what had been done, and you were more than a little horrified.
When Alexia turned back around to help you into the shower, you had turned several shades paler, and your legs were shaking. Eyes fixed on your chest in the mirror, you looked completely disgusted with what you saw reflecting back at you.
Worried that you would pass out or something, Alexia stepped in behind you, carefully placing her large hands on your upper arms to hold you steady. “Amor? Feeling okay?”
“Dizzy.” You managed, leaning back into her. Alexia grabbed the water she’d had the foresight to bring into the bathroom, and carefully urged you to take a few sips. She knew how you were with stuff like this, ever since you’d passed out once watching her get stitches after a nasty tackle.
“Just breathe. In through your nose, and out through your mouth. Don’t look if it’s bothering you.”
“I-I… please don’t look, either, Ale.” You requested, shutting your eyes tightly. Alexia only hummed in response, resting her chin on your shoulder and rubbing her hands up and down your arms. “It’s awful, it’s so gross.”
The bruising and the sight of the incisions through the tape over them was enough to make you nauseous, but Alexia being there only made it worse. She shouldn’t have to see you like this.
She seemed unphased, though, her eyes on your face in the mirror, not distracted by your chest. “It looks exactly as the doctor said it should look. Your body went through so much, healing isn’t going to be perfect and pretty. Everything is okay, I promise. Just look at my face, and focus on me. Everything is okay.”
You did as she asked, breathing deeply for a few minutes, your eyes fixed on hers in the mirror. Only when some color had returned to your face, and you weren’t shaking as badly, did Alexia move from where her body pressed to yours.
“Are you ready? She murmured in your ear, enjoying that at least from this angle, from behind you, she could feel your body against hers. You enjoyed it too, your head dropping back to her shoulder as you nodded. “Okay. We’ll go quick. I’ll wash your body, wash your hair and then you can lay down.”
Too afraid of what would happen if you stepped into the shower by yourself, you nodded again.
It always struck you how gentle Alexia could be. On the pitch she was a force to be reckoned with, her body a well oiled machine that always got the job done. Her job was so physical, it always surprised you how soft her hands were, how gentle her touch was.
She was so careful with you, especially now. The blonde maneuvered you under the stream of water, getting to work right away, as if she knew how exhausted you already were, just from standing for a few minutes. She hummed as she worked the loofa across your skin, intermittently leaving kisses wherever she saw fit. Done with that, Alexia moved on to your hair, her fingers feeling absolutely magical on your scalp after several days of it being tied back in a bun.
You were mostly silent, only speaking to reply to Alexia’s quiet check ins every few minutes. It was only when she was facing you, massaging the conditioner out of your hair as you tilted your head back under the stream of water, that you said anything of substance.
“Thank you for helping.”
“Always.” Alexia mumbled, her lips pressed to your forehead. “I miss hugging you.”
You melted even further, as if the careful way she washed your hair for you wasn’t soft enough. “You’re adorable.”
“No, I am tough and strong.” Alexia objected.
“And incredibly adorable.” You insisted. For the first time that day, Alexia saw the ghost of a smile on your lips, and she made herself a promise that she’d make you smile more often. Even if she had to be ridiculous to do so, though it would prove to be harder than she wanted.
------
It felt like there was a dark cloud hanging over you. You were irritated and depressed and near tears for no discernible reason. Alright, there was a reason, but you were too upset to really think rationally about it. Everything hurt more once you’d stopped taking the prescription painkillers you’d been prescribed, and the lack of the drugs was definitely not helping your mood. The last two days had been horrible, your recovery hitting a wall. It had been a week exactly, and suddenly, nothing was moving fast enough.
Now that you were used to the sight, your breasts didn’t seem as small as they had at first. They were swollen, you kept reminding yourself, but the worry that they wouldn’t be small enough, that you’d gone through all this for nothing, persisted. It didn't matter that logically, you knew they were smaller. You’d seen what was removed, been told the measurements, and still. You’d convinced yourself they looked mostly the same. It hurt to move and showering took you at least an hour every time. You hyper fixated on your appearance, worried that now that your chest was supposedly smaller, everything else would be bigger. Alexia kept taking days off work, and when she didn’t, her mother or her sister would randomly show up with something random to drop off or pick up. You hated that she felt like she couldn’t leave you alone, and you hated even more that she was right to feel that way. You couldn’t lift anything, could barely sit up on your own. Your girlfriend was stuck helping you with every little thing, from showering to walking down the stairs. It was miserable.
It felt like she asked you every other minute if you were in pain. And god, you were. More than you thought you’d be. Everytime, though, your answer was the same. Just a bit, you’d tell her. Both of you knew you were lying. You’d grit your teeth and bear it, unwilling or perhaps unable to admit to Alexia that your chest ached and stung and pulled and hurt. Your brain didn’t feel much better.
Of course, Alexia knew you were miserable. The doctor had warned her this might happen; it wasn’t uncommon for individuals to fall into a depression after surgery like this. There were a lot of complex emotions involved. Combine those emotions with pain and narcotics, of course you didn’t feel like yourself. She’d been awake last night, when you’d cried next to her, holding her hand like a lifeline even as you stayed as quiet as you could. Alexia knew you didn’t want her to see you in pain, and if she could bring you comfort because you thought she was asleep… she’d take that.
Still, though, every part of her ached with how sad you seemed, and how shut down you’d become. She was sure that if you talked about even one of the things bothering you, you’d feel so much better. You weren’t talking, though, and Alexia was running out of ways to help you.
The blonde had one final idea before she broke and called your doctor to tell him that you just weren’t coping well, and she really didn’t want to do that. So, she made you tea, put on a boring documentary, and played with your hair until you were half asleep on top of the covers of your bed, as snuggled into Alexia’s pillow as you could get at the moment.
She gently roused you, informing you that she had to run out for groceries but she’d be back very soon, before grabbing her list and slipping out the front door. Alexia had assumed you’d gone right back to sleep, but you hadn’t.
Instead, you’d realized you had to use the bathroom, dragging yourself off your bed and into the bathroom. It was there that you bumped into the door, which hurt way more than it normally would have. It had been the last straw of an already horrible day, and you just couldn’t take it anymore. Couldn’t be brave anymore.
Alexia had been in such a rush to leave so she could come back, that she forgot her wallet, turning the car around only a few minutes into her drive to return and grab it.
“Amor, I forgot my-” Alexia’s whispered words halted as she walked into the bedroom, and the sounds of your sobs hit her ears. You weren’t in bed where she’d left you, and your girlfriend whipped her head around in panic. “Baby, where are you?” She shouted, able to tell that you were closeby. Answering her own question, she rushed towards the bathroom, only relaxing slightly when she found you.
Hunched over by the sink, your shoulders shook with the force of your sobs. Somewhere in her mind, Alexia realized that the movement was likely causing you pain. The blonde hadn’t ever heard you cry this hard in her life, and when you whipped your head around to look at her when she pushed the door open, you looked broken. You only looked more upset at the sight of her, and your girlfriend tried not to panic.
“Baby, are you hurting?” Alexia questioned, moving forward as her hands fluttered uselessly in the air. All you could do in response was continue to cry, and reach one shaky hand towards the blonde. “I need you to talk to me.”
It was all just too much; you couldn’t hold it in any longer. You needed her to kiss you and hold you and promise that everything would be okay. “I..I- hurts, Ale, it hurts so bad.”
“I’m so sorry.” Alexia frowned, giving your hand a squeeze. “What can I do?”
“I d-don’t know, it just hurts.” You sobbed, your chest stuttering.
“The crying is not helping, amor, try to breathe.” She encouraged, exaggerating her own breaths for you to copy. It worked only slightly, and your face was still contorted in pain. “Let me get you some more medicine.”
“No, stay.” You panicked, only tightening your grip on your girlfriend’s hand.
“Okay, I’m right here.” She cooed, trying to move closer and give you a gentle hug. You winced away from her, though, in too much pain and too afraid of it worsening to allow her close to you.
“I don’t know what to do,” you whimpered, wanting the pain to stop if only so she could hug you.
Pausing and pursing her lips, your girlfriend tried to think logically. Getting up was difficult for you, standing only worse. Sitting propped up on the bed was the only way for you to be even slightly comfortable, so Alexia took each of your hands in hers. “Back to bed, okay? You’ll feel better sitting.”
You nodded, and allowed your girlfriend to carefully lead you out of the bathroom, and back towards the bed. “Okay, almost there. You’re doing so well.”
It felt ridiculous to be praised for something as simple as walking back to bed, especially as you needed her help to do so. Still, she sounded so earnest and encouraging you couldn’t doubt her sincerity.
Alexia got you settled on the bed just how you liked, and adjusted the pillows until they were just right. You sighed shakily, shifting as you tried to get comfortable.
“Tell me how to help you.” Alexia practically pleaded.
“I want ice please.” You sniffled, desperate for anything to numb the pain on your body, and the pain inside your head. Alexia tucked the blanket around you, using her thumb to wipe a few tears off your cheeks, gazing at you regretfully.
“I’m sorry, amor, the doctor said no ice, remember? It is bad for the circulation. I can get you more medicine and a cool towel for your head?” Her suggestions felt weak, and she wished she could just take it from you, take away how badly you felt.
You nodded, a few more tears falling from your eyes as you did so. It seemed to Alexia as though every time she offered to help you, you cried more. She rose to go get what she needed, and you let your head fall back on the pillows, a few quiet sobs escaping. You wished you could stop needing her so badly.
Crying too hard to notice her return, you jumped when she placed her hand on your upper arm, crying out quietly as you did so.
“Easy, amor.” She soothed, handing you two pills and holding a straw to your lips. Once you took the medicine, she wiped the tears off your face with the wet washcloth in her hand, her features wrinkled with worry. You hadn’t stopped crying, and she didn’t know what else to do to help you.
“Are you crying because it hurts, or because of something else?” She wondered.
“I don’t know, I just can’t stop.” You whimpered, clutching almost desperately at your girlfriend’s hand.
Letting out a sad, sympathetic sound you’d never heard her make, Alexia took her place on her side of the bed, scooting over so she was pressed up against the pillow that was pressed up against you. It was the best she could do at the moment, even if she wanted to pull you into her and never let go. You reached over the pillow to grab onto her hoodie, the brown one with holes all over it you liked to make fun of. She’d put it on earlier, hoping you’d do just that, but she’d had no luck.
Alexia just watched you for a few minutes, both of her hands on you, tracing patterns into your skin wherever she was sure wouldn’t hurt you. It became clear to her that you were exhausting yourself, your eyes barely even open anymore as you wiped at the tears that wouldn’t stop falling.
“Amor, you need rest.” She whispered, watching your eyes flutter open to look at her helplessly.
How were you supposed to sleep when you were so upset?
“I can’t.”
“Try for me. Close your eyes, relax your body.” The blonde instructed, smiling despite herself as you instantly did as she asked. Grabbing the cool washcloth again, she folded it in half and draped it over your eyes. Sighing you settled back into the pillows a bit, chest still stuttering every few seconds, but less intensely than it had been. “Sleep, cariño. I’m right here, I love you, and everything is okay.”
Her words had an incomprehensible power over you, and it wasn’t long before you were barely clinging to consciousness. The tears had stopped, and all you could really think about was that you were really glad that Alexia was here with you.
------
Alexia wasn’t sure how long you’d cried for before your grip on her sweatshirt had gone slack, and you’d finally relaxed. She let you sleep for an hour or so, though, unmoving so she didn’t disturb you. She busied herself with her phone, placing an order of the things she needed so she didn’t have to leave you, but mostly, she just watched you sleep. Swollen and red eyes, tear stained face, uncomfortable frown on your face even as you slept, you were still the most beautiful person she’d ever seen in her life.
Once the delivery was made, your girlfriend slipped out of bed as carefully as she could, heading for the front door. Turning around with the bags from the front porch in hand, Alexia jumped a little at the sight of you standing behind her. She hadn’t heard you follow her out of the bedroom, but she saw you now, more tears falling down your flushed face.
“Hey,” she said soothingly, moving closer even as you backed away from her.
“You were supposed to go grocery shopping and I ruined it,” you cried, feeling a little ridiculously upset that you’d messed up her plans. You just thought she needed the time away from you. It wasn’t as though you were pleasant to be around right now. “You didn't get to run your errands, I’m so sorry.”
“You haven’t ruined anything, mi amor.” Alexia cooed. “Come on, sit on the couch for me, and I’ll show you what I got.”
Sniffling, Alexia led you to the couch, helping you sit down and once again, placing the excessive amount of pillows exactly as you liked them. She began to pull items out of the bags once she sat down next to you, explaining what she’d gotten as she did so in a very quiet, almost shy voice.
“A new candle, it makes the crackle sounds you like. Your favorite candy. Some roses, and I will put them in a vase and you could put them next to your bed, if you want. This is supposed to be a cooling blanket, so you don’t get too warm. I noticed you were almost out of the hair ties you use, so I got more of those. You liked that one button up shirt you got, so I got more because they are easier than other shirts, and these are very soft.” She listed everything out, putting it all on the coffee table in front of you.
It was endless, the number of things she’d bought for you. Favorite snacks, a book you’d mentioned wanting to read once. A new coffee mug, even though she always complained that you had too many already, just because she knew you’d like the color. One bag was full of the ingredients to make your favorite dinner. She grabbed the last bag off the floor, really rambling now that you hadn’t said a word in at least 2 minutes.
“I can return this if you don’t want it.” She finished, pressing the small, plush elephant into your hands as her face turned red. “I thought he could keep you company when I’m at work, but it’s probably stupid-”
You cut her off, tucking the elephant under one arm as you tilted her chin up with your other. Her face fell further, because you were still crying.
She didn’t know that they were no longer sad tears.
“I love you.” You blubbered, absolutely sure that there weren't words to describe how grateful you were for her at that moment. Ale, your perfect, sweet Ale. What had you done in your life to deserve her? “I love the elephant, I love everything. What did you do all this for?”
Alexia looked at you incredulously, her fingers linking with yours. “You have been so down. I just wanted to make you smile. I thought maybe one of these things could.”
“Oh. I… I didn’t know you noticed. I thought I was doing a good job hiding it.”
You would never be winning an Oscar, Alexia thought to herself. “Why would you hide that from me?” She wondered, her face adorably confused.
“You’re dealing with enough from me right now, you don’t need-”
“I decide what I need and don’t need.” Alexia cut in, her voice so firm it had your head snapping up to stare at her. She wasn’t angry, though, just… passionate. “Don’t push me away because you think you are being too much. I knew what I was getting into when you scheduled this surgery. I arranged to have time off so I could take care of you. I know you are hurting and I know you are upset, and I want nothing more than for you to talk to me.”
“You’re too good to me.” You murmured, eyes flitting all over her face, trying to memorize the sincere expression on her face.
“This is what you deserve.” Alexia disagreed, her knee shifting over until it pressed into yours. “Now, I know you are hurting because you just had surgery, but I do not know what has you so sad. Can you tell me? Please?”
How could you say no to that? The issue was, you weren’t even sure where to start. “There’s too many things. I’m just… I don’t feel right.”
Alexia hummed. “Amor, it is normal to be depressed after a surgery like this. It says in the post op notes, your doctor talked to me about it. This is normal, how you are feeling is normal and it isn’t going to last forever.”
It was the same thing you’d been telling yourself, except now it echoed around your head in Alexia’s voice, and that held so much more meaning. Nodding meekly, you wondered if you should keep going.
“What else?”
Nervously, you glanced down at your chest. You didn’t want to sound ungrateful. Not everyone got the chance to have this surgery, even if they needed it, and it felt so disgusting to complain. The feeling that they were still too big was unshakeable, though.
“You don’t like how they look.” Alexia stated simply. You stared at her, jaw dropped, wondering suddenly if she could read minds. She gave you a small smile, tugging at her ponytail and fiddling with the ends of her hair. “That is normal, too. I read about it. They don’t feel different enough?”
“No.” You replied quietly, still ashamed of your feelings.
“They are still swollen. It will take three to four months for them to look how they are going to look. You have to be patient, you have to give yourself time. I know everything is overwhelming right now, but I promise you, they are smaller, and they will get smaller still.”
This time, Alexia raised your intertwined hands to her lips, pressing a kiss to the back of yours. “What else?” She asked again. A mind reader, for sure, you decided.
You bit your lip before speaking, though it was progress that you verbalized your feelings without Alexia having to guess. “I’m in so much pain. It’s taking so long to go away. You can’t do anything or go anywhere because you’re here helping me. I’m such a burden right now and I hate it. I’m so tired of this. I don’t want you to have to help me with every little thing.”
Alexia looked almost offended. “You have never been a burden a day in your life, and I am sorry that anyone has ever made you feel that way. I am happy to be here, and help you heal. Really, amor. You’ve wanted this for so long, and this part isn’t very fun, but you’re doing so well. It hurts, and it sucks, I know that. It feels like it’s taking forever, but it’s just barely been a week. You aren’t helping yourself by keeping all these negative thoughts in your head, either.”
“Probably not.” You agreed timidly.
“Probably not.” Alexia echoed, her hand coming up to cup your cheek. “I am here for you because I want to be, so let me help, okay? It isn’t your instinct to tell me when you are hurting, or when you need help, but I want you to try, okay? Just try.”
“I’ll try.” You promised. Because, honestly, if Alexia was this good at making all your fears and stressors melt away and she was happy to do it, there was no justification for suffering in silence anymore.
“I”m proud of you. You are doing so well, and I love you. Everything is going to feel better soon, and until then, I am right here with you.”
“Are you going somewhere once I am better?” You asked teasingly, just the hint of a smile tugging at your lips. This did not go unnoticed by your girlfriend, who leaned closer and got a look on her face you knew to be her I just won look.
“A smile.” Alexia grinned, pressing her forehead against yours, still making sure to give your entire midsection a wide berth.
“It’s just for you.” You whispered, holding eye contact with her, and enjoying that it no longer felt insincere because you were keeping so much to yourself.
“I’m not going anywhere. Ever.” Alexia promised. Her words were barely more than a warm exhale on your mouth, and before long, she was brushing her soft lips against yours, giving you the world’s most careful kiss.
She had magical kisses, you decided. Magic hands, as they linked with yours. A magic smile that made you grin, too. Good taste in get better soon gifts, you thought, picking up the elephant and asking her if she’d thought of a name for it.
“Alex.” She smirked, looking rather proud of herself.
And maybe she had egotistical taste in names, but you were more convinced every second that she was right, that things would get better, and a bit of ego was something you could handle. Especially when it came wrapped up in a package with overwhelming amounts of love and care. You were the luckiest girl in the world, you’d never been more sure of that.
Hours later, after you’d eaten your favorite dinner and lit your new candle, settling into bed with a much more relaxed look on your face, Alexia thought the same thing. She was the luckiest to have you. Your smile was worth everything, and she’d missed it these past few days. It didn’t feel like she’d have to miss it anymore, though, especially as you drifted off, your hand in hers. Lips curved just slightly upward. You always had a smile to give Alexia.
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i'm honestly not sure if this is too niche for people to enjoy, so i'd appreciate any thoughts anyone has :) this feels wildly vulnerable and i will do my absolute best to not get embarrassed and delete it 🙏 love to you all 🫶🏻🫶🏻🥰🥰
#woso imagine#woso x reader#woso imagines#woso one shot#woso fanfics#alexia putellas imagine#alexia putellas x reader
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this is a request!!! can you do the ending of s4 but instead of kie its reader and how she is affected by this through time
More Time
Pairing: JJ Maybank x Pogue!reader
Synopsis: You come to learn that even after the high, you gotta come back down at some point and face reality
Word Count: 1.8k
Warnings: season 4 pt. 2 SPOILERS, angst, use of y/n, mentions of death, unedited
A/n: I started this as soon as you sent it in. Tell me why I actually love it? Anyway, I hope it's what you wanted!! Keep sending in requests.
~~~
Time was a funny thing. Two minutes ago you were on a high. The plan was to get the Blue Crown, capture Groff, and get back home as soon as possible. Now you were running from Dalia and her crew, trying not to get shot.
JJ pulled you by your arm, doing his best to guide you both through the sandstorm. “Run, run, run! Come on, we gotta find the others!” he yelled.
You could barely see through the goggles you had on and the wind was so loud you couldn’t hear. When you and JJ came to a fork in the road, you decided to take the lead and go to the right, “I think it’s this way!” you said before you ran off, thinking he would follow.
You made it to a little section of the building where the sand and wind wouldn’t reach as much. Turning around, you saw that JJ wasn’t behind you. “JJ!” you shouted in panic but before you could shout again you were grabbed from behind.
You felt an arm go around the front of your neck, keeping you from escaping. “Shh! Quiet!” It was Groff. You knew you couldn’t trust him. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see he was holding a knife. The sight made you whimper out of fear. “Shut up!”
You had to get JJ’s attention. “JJ!” There was no way you were going to die like this after everything. You could hear him yell out for you, “Y/n!”
A second later, you saw his tall figure run into the room you were standing in. You let out a sharp gasp as Groff tightened the grip he had on you.
“You let her go!” You hadn’t been that scared in a while but knowing that your boyfriend could potentially watch you die in a few minutes scared you.
“You know what I want…” Groff said glancing at the Crown in JJ’s hand. “Give it to me!”
“Just… let her go,” his voice was calm but you could see that he was panicked. JJ didn’t want to give up the Crown, you were way more important, but the Crown would help him get his house and his business back. The one thing he wouldn’t be able to get back was you.
With Groff standing there with you, JJ knew he had no choice. “You could’ve stuck with me, JJ. Think of what you could’ve had. But now you… you get nothing.”
“No. I already have everything. I have everything I’ve ever wanted.” JJ’s eyes softened as he looked at you, “Things that you’ll never have. You want the crown? Sure, take it.” He said as he held out the Crown, “Take it. I don’t want it. Just…let her go.”
Groff took his offer and loosened his grip on you but didn’t let you go fully. He kept his right arm around your throat and stretched out his left arm to reach for the crown. JJ slowly extended both arms. One with the crown and the other to reach for you. In a split second, you were released from Groff’s grip and practically jumped towards JJ.
“I got you,” You were breathing heavily trying to catch your breath as best as you could. “It’s okay,” You took a second to look into his eyes before he pulled you into the tightest hug. “Thank you” You would stay in his arms forever if you could.
But of course, Groff had to ruin the moment.
“JJ…”
JJ let go of you and turned around to face Groff. He was angry about everything he had done up to this point. You stood behind them watching their interaction.
“It’s a shame…You and me.” Groff spoke
Suddenly the sound of JJ’s gasp fills your ears. You didn’t know what had happened until you looked down to see Groff’s hand on the side of JJ’s abdomen. He had stabbed his own son.
“You should have given me… the rope.” were Groff’s last words before he pulled the knife out and fled the scene.
JJ fell back into your arms, clutching his stomach with his left hand. His legs gave out and he fell back taking you with him. You didn’t believe it. His dying body was right in front of your eyes and you couldn’t believe it.
“No, no, no” You whispered trying to keep calm even though it was clear you were panicking. “It’s okay, it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay”
You looked down at his stomach and moved his hands so you could get a better look. “Let me see it,” The sight made you wince. You had never been good with blood or wounds but this was different. It was JJ, the love of your life, so if you needed to stop the bleeding you were going to.
You lifted your head to look at his face and saw that he was staring at his wound. You needed him to focus on you and not think about potentially dying. “Hey, hey, hey… hey, look at me”
His head stayed down.
“JJ, I need you to look at me” He finally fixed his eyes on you and you could see the pain in them. They were ready to close.
“Baby…” he whispered and just then you could tell
He’s accepted it.
“You are not dying. Okay? You’re not-”
“Y/n…” It hurt to speak, but he had to get your attention
“I’ll go… find the others and…we’ll get you some help and then we’ll go home and you’ll be fine. Everything’s gonna be fine.”
Nothing about this is fine.
“I never told you my wish.” he stuttered out
“What? No, JJ, it’s okay.”
He continued anyway, “I already got it… I already got my wish… I got everything I wanted.” He shifted his body, trying to sit up a bit higher but he let out a groan at the pain.
“No, no, no… Stay with me, please”
Seeing him in pain was the worst form of torture. You couldn’t bear it. You sobbed, tears running down your face as he grabbed onto your left arm, squeezing it to grab your attention once again.
“Hey… take care of the others. Okay?”
“No. No. Fuck that, that’s not what this is. You’re not dying.”
His eyes were already fluttering, ready to close for good.
Before he spoke, he used up all his strength to lift his hand, slip off his favorite ring, and place it on your left ring finger.
“I wanted to do that sooner, but I left the ring at home. I love you, Y/n”
Your heart wanted to explode for 2 entirely different reasons. “I love you too. I- I love you so much.”
You watched as his eyes shut for the last time, his body taking its last breath. “Please, no, no, no, no. No!”
Your hands reached for his face as you realized that he was gone. Forever.
“No! JJ, please! Please wake up! Please!” you exclaimed, shaking his body as if it would bring him back.
“John B! Pope! Anyone, please help! JJ, you gotta wake up baby!”
You were begging at this point, desperate to hear his voice, his laugh, see his smile, just one last time. You cried for him. For the shitty life he had been dealt. All the shit he’d gone through just for it to end like this.
He lost his mother, he had a shitty father and somehow gained an ever worse one, he’d been abused, physically, mentally, and verbally, for 20 years of his life. The only good things he had were his best friends and you.
You were his rock. His safe place. He went to you with every scar, every scrape, every bruise. You’ve seen it all and you’ve made it better every time. But this time, you couldn’t save him. There was nothing you could do.
All your friends came running in at the sound of your cries but you paid no attention to them. You were focused on JJ. Somehow hoping he would let out a big gasp and say, “Gotcha! Hahaha, you should’ve seen your face!”
It would’ve been a shitty prank but anything was better than him actually being dead.
JJ was your best friend out of all of them. He made you laugh and he made you cry. He made you happy whenever he would come home and smother you in kisses “Just ‘cuz” he’d say with a smile on his face. He made you angry whenever he would do something reckless like get into a fight, steal things, or destroy public property.
But you loved him through it all because he was your person.
You refused to leave his side. Sarah, Kie, and Cleo had to practically drag you away from your boyfriend’s— fiance’s dead body.
John B and the group talked about burying him in the sand by the beach since that was his favorite place.
“It's not,” you muttered
The group turned to see you sitting in a corner but barely paying attention.“What?”
“The beach isn’t his favorite place. I am. That’s what he used to tell me. That I’m his “home”. Wherever I go, he goes–” You spoke with a very monotone voice. Not having the energy after screaming and crying like you did. “ –and I think he deserves more than a lousy burial on the beach. He should be buried at home, maybe next to his mom. At least somewhere where I can visit him. Not across the world in Africa where I’ll never be able to see him again.”
They were silent for a bit before Pope spoke up, “Y/n, we completely understand. Trust me, but we have no way of getting home right now, and we can’t just hold onto his body until we find one.”
“I just don’t think it's right. He deserves so much better.”
“I know, but there’s nothing we can do.”
You know you weren’t the only one to lose him. His best friends lost him too, but you still thought the idea was fucked up. You all ended up burying him on the beach anyway.
Pope was right about having no way to get home. The 7 of you sat around a fire. Everyone was quiet. It had been like that for hours, no one wanted to talk. Except for Rafe.
“Groff said he’s going to Lisbon. I don’t know, if it was my friend, I’d probably go after the guy that just killed him. Yeah?”
“Shut up, Rafe” Pope muttered
You watched Groff kill JJ. Of course, you wanted him dead. It would feel even better if you were the one to do it.
“He’s not wrong.” you sided with Rafe, “You think JJ would sit here if it were one of us? You think he’d do nothing? No, he’d get even. He would fight for any one of us. So that’s what we're gonna do for him…”
You paused, looking around at the others before continuing, “We’re gonna get revenge.”
#jj maybank#angst#jj maybank x reader angst#obx#jj maybank x pogue!reader#outer banks#outer banks season 4#jj maybank x reader
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𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐑 𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐒.
★ STATUS . . . ongoing, arthur morgan x f!reader. 18+ smut mdni !!
★ CW . . . voyeurism, female masturbation, male masturbation, arthur's kind of a meanie.
★ SUMMARY . . . recently welcomed into dutch van der linde's gang, has a tense first encounter with arthur morgan, who is suspicious of her and questions her trustworthiness. after a sharp exchange, she withdraws to her tent to find solace. meanwhile, arthur, tasked with returning her forgotten journal, approaches her tent but hesitates when he sees the intimate silhouette of her body through the illuminated canvas.
★ AUTHOR'S NOTE . . . really don't know what washed over me. this was initially meant as a drabble , but somehow bloomed into what is going to be a continuing story. as the start of the story, it's loaded with "setting the scene" mostly to establish a dynamic between the reader and arthur. however , it does get spicy towards the end ;)
An orphan, a wanderer, and most notably, a thief for hire. Your occupation brought you countless adversaries, shaped by a lifetime of hardship. The Wild West wasn’t forgiving, especially for someone like you. It forced you to compromise whatever moral compass you’d developed, exchanging it for a life filled with unsavory characters. Your skills became notorious in Lemoyne, earning you a wanted poster of your own—though the paltry $3,000 bounty made you wonder if the authorities truly knew your worth.
One man, however, saw your potential: Dutch Van der Linde. Knowing Dutch’s reputation, you were well aware there was no honor among thieves, but the price he offered for your services was one you couldn't afford to refuse.
"I'm a man who keeps his word," Dutch said, locking eyes with you. You stiffened momentarily, your guard raised.
"And if you don’t, I’ll have you dead," you warned, your voice steady.
Dutch chuckled, raising his palms in mock surrender. "I'll take you to my camp, introduce you to my people," he said, patting his chest for emphasis. "I take care of my own. I'll take care of you too, ma’am, ya hear?"
You clenched your jaw, swallowing hard before releasing a sigh. Camps, people—these weren't things you were accustomed to. Yet, the promise of a warm fire and a decent meal was hard to ignore. Stepping forward, you motioned with your boot. "Be a gentleman and lead the way."
Dutch quickened his pace, guiding you to his horse. Retrieving your own, you both rode off toward the confines of Clemens Point.
As you arrived at the secluded camp, the thick forest enveloped the intimate commune. Pulling on the reins, your horse came to a halt behind Dutch’s. He dismounted and extended a hand to help you down. You ignored his gesture, earning another chuckle.
"Your independence is admirable," Dutch said, amused. "Maybe you'll set a good example."
"I won’t be staying long," you replied curtly.
Dutch nodded, unfazed. "Come on, now, lemme introduce ya."
You followed behind him, scanning your surroundings, planning your escape if needed. Clemens Point had its rustic charm, much like the rest of Lemoyne, but it wasn’t a place you intended to linger. As you approached the heart of the camp, the residents began to take notice. Some watched from a distance, while others stepped closer. You stayed close to Dutch, observing the crowd.
"Bring a lady for the night?" one man jeered. You tried to get a glimpse of the man behind such a crude remark, catching only the sight of a weathered hat adorned with a feather.
"It ain’t like that," Dutch countered.
"Well, if she’s with you, she sure ain’t cheap," the man sneered.
You felt anger flare in your chest.
"Arthur!" Dutch barked.
So, that was his name—Arthur.
Stepping out from behind Dutch, you made yourself visible to the Van der Linde gang, especially the man at the center of it all.
He was tall, built like a seasoned gunslinger, with the brim of his hat pulled low, hiding much of his face. But from your shorter vantage point, you could see beneath the brim—strands of sandy brown hair fell just above his eyes. You squinted, trying to get a clearer look at the man responsible for the comment.
"My, my," Arthur drawled, his voice low. "What do we have here, then?"
You stared Arthur down, unfazed by his comment. “What you have here,” you said, voice dripping with sarcasm, “is someone who doesn't take kindly to men who don’t watch their tongues.”
Arthur raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Bold. I like that.” He crossed his arms, eyeing you with a mix of amusement and curiosity. “But talk’s cheap out here, darlin’. You gonna back it up?”
You took a step closer, not backing down. “Guess you’ll find out soon enough, cowboy.”
Before things could escalate further, Dutch stepped in between the two of you, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. “Now, now, let’s all calm down, shall we?” He chuckled as though this kind of exchange was nothing new. “Arthur, meet our new friend here. She’s more than capable, I assure you. She’s got quite the reputation—thief for hire, and from what I’ve heard, she’s damn good at it.”
Arthur’s gaze flickered to Dutch, then back to you. His smile faded, replaced by a skeptical scowl. “A thief, huh?” He tilted his head, clearly unconvinced. “And you’re just gonna bring her into camp, just like that? You don’t think maybe we oughta vet her a little first? Or better yet, see if she’s worth her salt?”
Dutch sighed, clearly accustomed to Arthur’s protective nature. “Arthur, you’ve got nothing to worry about. I wouldn’t bring someone into our fold if I didn’t believe in their abilities. You, of all people, should trust me on that.”
Arthur scoffed, shaking his head. “It ain’t about trust, Dutch. It’s about common sense. You’re always bringing in strays, but how do we know she’s as good as you say? How do we know she ain’t just gonna take what she wants and bolt?”
You folded your arms, feeling the heat of Arthur’s scrutiny, but before Dutch could respond, you cut in.
“If I wanted to bolt, I wouldn’t be standing here listening to you question me like some washed-up lawman,” you said flatly. “And as for being good at what I do… Why don’t you give me a chance to prove it?”
Arthur’s eyes narrowed, his expression unreadable for a moment. The tension was thick between the two of you, the unspoken challenge hanging in the air.
Dutch clapped his hands together, cutting through the silence. “See? That’s the spirit! Let’s not get too hung up on doubts and suspicions. Besides, Arthur, you know better than anyone—we all had to start somewhere.”
Arthur shook his head, still unconvinced, but his tone softened slightly. “Fine. But if she messes up, Dutch, it’s on you.”
Dutch grinned. “I’ll take full responsibility. You’ll see, Arthur—she’s gonna fit right in.”
Arthur gave you one last look, his blue eyes hard, but he stepped back, leaving the matter for now. “We’ll see,” he muttered, turning his back to head deeper into the camp.
As he walked away, Dutch leaned in close, speaking just low enough for you to hear. “Don’t worry about Arthur. He’s always cautious with new faces, but once you prove yourself, he’ll have your back. Just give it time.”
You nodded, though your eyes remained fixed on Arthur’s retreating form. “I’ll prove myself, alright. To everyone.”
Dutch patted you on the back, his voice light once again. “That’s the spirit. Now, let’s get you settled in.”
Your shoulders relax slightly when Dutch introduces you to another, kinder member of the camp—Mary-Beth. With a warm smile, she takes it upon herself to show you around. As she guides you through the camp, she explains the delicate intricacies and rich history the Van der Linde gang has accumulated over time. Her warmth is disarming, and though you find her friendliness endearing, your guard remains firmly in place.
As the day gives way to night, the camp grows lively. The smell of roasting meat fills the air, and the sound of laughter and clinking bottles echoes around the fire. Everyone seems to be enjoying the night, drinks in hand and plates full. You sit beside Dutch, notebook in hand, writing down the events of the day—your observations, the faces you’ve encountered, and your thoughts on the gang’s dynamics.
Dutch glances over your shoulder, a grin tugging at his lips. “Writing a novel already?” he teases.
You smirk but keep writing. “Just taking notes, is all.”
With a chuckle, Dutch pats your shoulder. “Well, don’t let me interrupt your musings. I’m gonna get myself another drink.” He stands, leaving his spot beside you empty for just a moment.
Before you can settle back into your thoughts, Arthur takes Dutch’s place without so much as a word. You immediately tense, looking up from your journal in annoyance.
“I didn’t invite you to sit,” you snap.
Arthur leans back, crossing his arms, clearly unbothered by your protest. “I’m just doin’ my due diligence,” he says with a casual shrug. “Lead enforcer and all that. Gotta make sure you ain’t some rat lookin’ to get us all killed.”
You narrow your eyes at him, anger bubbling up. “A rat? You don’t know a thing about me.”
“I know enough,” Arthur retorts, his gaze hard. “You waltz in here, Dutch vouches for ya, but me? I don’t trust anyone that quick. Seen too many faces come and go. Some good, some… not so much.”
You bite your tongue, forcing yourself to stay calm. “I don’t have anything to prove to you, Arthur.”
His stare lingers on you, unflinching. “Maybe not. But until I see otherwise, I’ll keep an eye on you.”
The tension between you is palpable, and despite the fire’s warmth, you feel a chill settle in your bones. This is why you hated dealing with people. No matter what you did, someone was always suspicious, always trying to dig into things that weren’t their business. You snap your journal shut, your patience worn thin.
“I’m done here,” you mutter, standing abruptly. “I didn’t come here for this.”
You walk away from the campfire, the weight of Arthur’s gaze following you as you disappear into the shadows. As you distance yourself from the group, you hear a voice call out.
“Arthur, you really can be an asshole sometimes, you know that?”
It’s Hosea, who had been watching the exchange from a distance. His tone is firm, but there’s an edge of disappointment in it. Arthur grumbles in response, shifting uncomfortably.
“Just doin’ my job, Hosea,” Arthur mutters defensively, but there’s a flicker of something else in his eyes—regret, maybe.
Hosea shakes his head. “Yeah, well, you could stand to be a little more welcoming.”
As Hosea walks away, Arthur notices something on the ground beside him—your journal. You must have left it behind in your rush to escape the conversation. He picks it up, flipping it over in his hands, his expression softening for a brief moment. He exhales a long breath while he debates with himself, glancing in the direction you disappeared, wondering if he should bring it to you.
Storming away from the campfire, you mutter under your breath. "Should've known better than to get mixed up in this." The tension Arthur brought upon you still burns in your chest. Now, away from the glimmer of the camp you question why you even agreed to Dutch's offer.
Quickly the weight of reality sets in. The promise of money looms heavy, more than you've ever made in one place. Enough to change your life, if things go smoothly. And then there's the camp —more than just a place to lay your head. It has food, shelter, warmth, and plenty of drink, luxuries you haven’t had in a long while. The thought alone makes your stomach growl, reminding you of the times you’ve gone hungry for days on end. A little discomfort with people like Arthur might just be the price you have to pay to survive this.
With a resigned sigh, you make your way toward your tent, situated near the lake, away from the central campfire. The sounds of laughter and idle chatter slowly fade, replaced by the gentle lapping of the water and the rustling of the trees in the night breeze. The solitude brings you a moment of peace.
Inside the privacy of your tent, you begin to undress. Shedding your coat, shirt, and pants, you remain in your undergarments, your body finally relaxing after a long day. You sit down on the edge of your bedroll, running a hand through your hair, letting yourself unwind. The faint sounds of the camp are distant now, just a quiet hum in the background. For the first time all day, you feel like you can breathe.
You sink deeper into the quiet, trying to escape the frustration that still simmers after your run-in with Arthur. His suspicion and brash attitude had only amplified the uncertainty you already felt about your place here. But in this moment, alone in the privacy of your tent, you allow yourself a rare moment of vulnerability.
The day’s exhaustion has left your body aching, and as you lie back on the bedroll in nothing but your undergarments, your mind drifts, seeking comfort in the solitude. The warmth of the lamp glows around you, its light illuminating the canvas tent, casting your shadow against the fabric walls.
Meanwhile, outside Arthur approaches the tent with your journal firmly in his grasp. His steps are quiet, almost hesitant has he nears. From the outside, the soft light from your oil lamp betrays the outline of your figure through the thin material of the tent. He pauses, eyes narrowing as he makes out your shape, it stops him in his tracks.
"What in the hell is she up to?"
As the glow from the lantern outlines your curves, you move with an intensity that betrays the calm facade you usually project. Your guard is down, and in this moment of vulnerability, your form is unmistakable. Your hands roam freely over your body, pressing, squeezing, tugging at the fabric of your undergarments. Even in solitude, you tease yourself, building anticipation for the release that awaits.
Your fingers reach up to hold your breasts, pinching the hardened buds as a loud moan escapes your lips and echoes through the tent. Arthur watches silently from outside, his breath catching as he realizes what's happening. His initial intention of returning the journal completely fades away as he becomes transfixed by the intimacy of the scene unfolding before him. He feels like an intruder but can't bring himself to look away.
Lost in pleasure, you lie back and let your hand trail down to your center, seeking refuge in the coarse hair. Gripping tightly, you insert a single digit into your core and feel a rush of wetness surround it as you sink deeper and deeper. Your breathing quickens and unbeknownst to you, the quiet rhythm of your movements is not confined to the tent. You whimper for more, "ple-please, give it to me. i want more," caving release from the stress that has consumed you since arriving here.
Watching from afar, Arthur feels his primal instincts kick in but fights them off with all his might. His sense of honor wavers as he struggles against his own desires. The tightness of his jeans and gun belt only add to his physical discomfort as he closes his eyes tightly, trying to resist temptation.
Meanwhile, inside the tent, you continue to lose yourself in ecstasy, completely oblivious to anything else in the world. Your moans grow louder and more desperate as your fingers quicken their pace inside of you. The sounds of squelching flesh mixed with your cries fill the night air as you beg for more.
Arthur finally gives in to his conscience and with one last look at the tent, he pulls away and retreats into the darkness. "The hell you doing, you pervert?" he curses himself as he walks away, leaving you to your privacy and pleasure. The intense moment has passed, but the memory lingers in Arthur's mind, igniting a curiosity about what else lies behind that sharp tongue of yours.
A man still had his urges.
Your journal finds its temporary home in Arthur's pocket. The heat of the moment lingers in his chest, an ache he can’t quite shake. His body tenses, and the desire to escape the situation grows stronger with every step. He moves quickly through the camp, intent on retreating to his own quarters and pushing away the thoughts still buzzing in his mind.
But just as he rounds a corner, he spots Dutch leaning against a post, nursing a drink and chatting with one of the gang members. Dutch’s keen eyes lock onto Arthur almost immediately, and before Arthur can disappear, Dutch calls out.
“Arthur!” Dutch’s voice cuts through the campfire chatter. “Where’d our new friend wander off to?”
Arthur stiffens, his eyes darting briefly before he forces himself to face Dutch. “She, uh… she’s at her tent,” Arthur mutters, his tone gruff as he shifts his weight awkwardly. Hands firmly grasp his gun belt and a satchel that once sat on the side of his hip is awkwardly placed at the center of his core, disguising what throbbed underneath.
Dutch raises an eyebrow, clearly sensing something off. “You sure about that? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Or… something else.” There’s a smirk tugging at the corner of Dutch’s mouth, amused by Arthur’s discomfort.
Arthur avoids eye contact, the urge he’s trying to suppress making it difficult to keep his composure. “Ain’t nothin’. Just tired, Dutch. Been a long day.”
Dutch takes a swig of his drink, watching Arthur closely, clearly enjoying the rare sight of Arthur flustered. “Right, right. Well, if you see her, let her know she’s always welcome to sit by the fire.”
Arthur grunts, eager to end the conversation. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”
Dutch takes another sip and, with a knowing chuckle, waves him off. “Get some rest, Arthur. You look like you need it.”
Without another word, Arthur quickly shoos Dutch away with a curt nod and makes a beeline for his tent. The moment Dutch turns his attention back to the campfire, Arthur lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, his footsteps quickening.
Finally reaching the safety of his own tent, a shaky hand, Arthur pushes through the canvas flap. He collapse onto his cot with heavy breaths. Images rush through his mind like a raging river - your body outlined in flickering light, the softness of your movements, and the burning desire that he can't seem to shake.
He lies on his back, staring up at the ceiling with shallow breaths as he replays the memory over and over again. His fists clench at his sides, frustration and longing coursing through him. It's been too long since anything has affected him this deeply.
As someone no stranger to temptation, Arthur knows the pull of the flesh all too well. But this moment with you felt different - more intimate, more real. The vulnerability he saw in you makes it impossible for him to simply brush off the encounter.
Running a hand through his hair in frustration, he tries to push the thoughts away, but they cling to him like thorns. The tension in his body only grows, refusing to let go even in the quiet of the night.
"Damn it," he mutters under his breath, rolling onto his side in an attempt to distract himself. But it's no use - your silhouette, bathed in lamplight, is burned into his mind.
Sitting up abruptly, Arthur grips the ends of his cot tightly as he stares at the ground beneath him. He lets out a frustrated sigh and runs a hand over his face, trying to rub away the persistent thoughts. But they only intensify in the darkness of his tent, driving him to take action.
Without hesitation, he untucks his flannel and removes his gunbelt before freeing himself from his trousers. His arousal is already evident as his length throbs against his palm. Unlike you, who sought relaxation in these moments alone, Arthur seeks indulgence.
Spitting into his palm for lubrication, he grips his cock tightly and sinks his weight onto the cot, groaning at the sensation. His ankles are freed from his trousers as he spreads his legs wider, giving himself more room to move. With each stroke of his hand, he can feel the tension slowly dissipating, replaced by a raw need for pleasure.
His hand moves with urgency and desperation, his thumb frequently visits the tip of his cock gathering the liquid before slipping it down his length. The sounds of your pleasure entertain his memory, your gentle pleas for pleasure make him whimper, "take it, woman. t-take it all." He feels like a fool but he can't suppress the praises he's eager to provide, "like a g-good girl."
His moans were deep and gravelly, resonating with the same desperate desire that you had been yearning for. As he released his essence into his palm, the sticky substance leaked between his fingers. He caught his breath with his eyes tightly shut, murmuring a curse under his breath, "damn woman." Somehow, this was all your fault.
Arthur reached for a handkerchief to clean himself off, wiping away the evidence of his passion. He adjusted himself before settling onto his cot with a sense of contentment, ready to spend the evening in peaceful slumber. The quiet rustle of the sheets echoed through the room as he settled in, still feeling the lingering effects of your intense encounter.
NEXT CHAPTER.
#arthur morgan x reader#arthur morgan x you#arthur morgan x female reader#arthur morgan smut#red dead fanfic#rdr2 x reader#rdr2 fanfic#filed: honor among thieves.#saddleups
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LAST NIGHT - BELLAMY BLAKE
Pairing: Bellamy Blake x Reader
Word Count: 2,355
Summary: (requested) A drinking game with Monty and Co goes a bit too far. Intending to get back to your own tent, you stumble upon Bellamy and some shock revelations.
You hadn’t been on the Ground long yet it seemed like you never left the Ark. You had convinced Raven to let you stowaway with her in her rebuilt pod and now, you were among friends.
Mostly.
The only caveat - other than the alleged war with the Grounders - was Bellamy Blake.
Not quite friends, not quite enemies, but frenemies didn’t work either. It seemed like you two just couldn’t go a day without arguing or damn near punching each other in the mouth. There wasn’t really any reason to it either. He liked to instigate you and your temper had you engaging in the bickering everytime. It had been that way since you had first met, but you had to admit, it was fun for you too.
Once the flares went up and hope was in the air, liquor was being poured into cups across camp. You took a spot with Monty, Jasper, and Harper, and Jasper did not hesitate to fill your little tin cup as much as he could.
Your group started some nonsense drinking game, and you lost count of the drinks or rounds after about four. If anyone asked, you didn’t know who was winning or losing or even the premise of the game anymore. All you knew was that you had drunk way too much way too fast. When the entire forest was spinning around you, you used the bit of logical thought you had left and decided to make your way to your tent.
Harper offered to help you, but the slurring of her words told you that she was about as lucid as you were. You waved her off and reasoned that you could make it on your own since there were walls around camp now. If there was the potential of you wandering into the empty woods, then you would’ve taken her up on the offer, but you’d be fine.
As you were wandering back, you saw Octavia sneaking out. Curious, you tried to follow. You had gotten all of four steps before you tripped over your own feet and landed on your side. You laughed at yourself and rolled to your back, hands flat on your stomach. Maybe you’d just sleep there.
“What are you doing?” Bellamy asked, suddenly standing over you.
“Sleeping.” You answered.
“Oh, shit.” He sighed and you grinned. “Are you drunk?”
“Are you?” You tried to point a finger at him but ended up gesturing to nothing, which made you giggle.
His hand closed around your wrist and he hauled you to your feet, bringing on another round of laughter. He kept a grip on your arm and guided you through camp, despite your dragging feet and nonsense blabbering. He brought you to your tent but you refused to go in.
Surely he had you turned around. Or maybe that was the liquor buzzing in your head. Regardless. you stomped your foot and told him he was wrong. You pointed to a tent three over and said that one was yours. You could see he was trying to stay patient with you but he didn’t sign up to babysit you as a drunk.
“That’s not yours.” He complained and you squinted in suspicion. “That’s Atom’s.”
“I have an innate sense of di-rec-tion.” You pointed out, holding up a finger. “I know where I’m supposed to be.”
“Alright, Magellan.” He laughed slightly and offered you his hand. “Come with me.”
“Oh no you don’t.” You wagged your finger and hiccuped. “I know how that goes. You bring me to your tent, you play the hero, and you think I’ll sleep with you.”
“No, Y/N, I’m not trying to sleep with you.” He sighed.
“Well why not?” You stomped, now offended. “I’ll have you know I’m spectacular.”
“I’m sure you are.” He rolled his eyes slightly and grabbed your wrist. “But I’m not gonna sleep with you when you’re wasted like this, so come with me… Please.”
You gasped dramatically. “Bellamy Blake knows the word ‘please’? I have to-“ Hiccup. “-tell everyone.”
He sighed slightly before he leaned down and looped his other arm around the back of your leg. You made a face to yourself but before you could say anything, he threw you over his shoulders. You squealed and kicked your feet, banging your fists weakly against him.
“Put me down!” You laughed. “Damn you, Bellamy!”
“Yeah, yeah.” He muttered, but there was amusement in his voice. He carried you to a tent and dropped you on your feet.
You stumbled when your feet hit the floor and you let yourself drop to the floor. You giggled when you landed and looked up at him. His arms were crossed and his eyebrows were raised, as if he expected you to say something. You huffed and crossed your arms the same way.
“You have, like, the biggest tent.” You looked around his space.
“What’s your point?” He sighed.
You threw your hands to the side which made you wobble slightly. Your eyes went big as you regained your balance before you laughed again. You looked back to Bellamy and he was already looking at you.
“You wanna know something?” You said loudly and crawled over to sit across from him.
“You’re gonna tell me anyway.” He crossed his arms again.
“I like your curly hair.” You said simply and he couldn’t hide the surprise on his face. “You always had it like slicked back on the Ark.”
“Thanks?”
“Yeah.” You nodded. “You thank people for compliments.”
“You’re not usually the compliment type.” He rolled his eyes. “Usually you’re the ‘kicking me in the shin’ type.”
“I could do that too.” You nodded. “But! I will not.”
“Lucky me.”
“Don’t you be mean to me again!” You thrust a finger forward and the sudden movement made you dizzy for a moment. “You’re always mean.”
“Coming from the girl who has a comment everytime I say anything to her?” He commented with a small laugh.
“Because you’re mean.” You glared. “But you’re pretty, so it’s a give and take I guess.” You shrugged.
“Jesus, Y/N.” He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “How much did you drink tonight?”
“I don’t like your tone, Blake!”
“And I don’t really care.”
“You don’t like me very much, do you?” You changed the subject. You couldn’t quite remember how much you had.
“What do you mean?” He cocked his head.
“You’re mean to me.” You frowned and counted off your statements. “You don’t laugh at my jokes. You never let me do things. You used to make fun of me on the Ark and that’s why I kick your stupid shins. You always give me that look.”
“What look?”
“That look! Like you’re trying to make me spontaneously combust.”
He shook his head with a disbelieving laugh. “Y/N, I never said I didn’t like you.”
“But you’re mean.” You pouted.
He knelt down in front of you and you pursed your bottom lip.
“I’m gonna tell you this now, because you probably won’t remember it in the morning.” He said quietly, like it was a secret.
You leaned in, reaching for him to keep your steady. He caught your hands and you felt a sobering heat on your cheeks.
“I do like you, Y/N.” He said, wide eyes and a small smile. “It started as a crush when we were kids and now… Now I can’t stop thinking about you, looking for you in the crowds and trying to find an excuse to talk to you.”
“No way.” You whispered.
“I know.” His smile drew a little wider. “I never meant to be mean.”
“You’re not that mean.” You shrugged. “Let’s just say it was banter.”
“Banter.” He repeated with a laugh. “Yeah, alright.”
“Like in those books!” You announced. “Where they act like they hate each other but they’re actually madly in love.”
“Let’s go with that then.” He nodded, that small smile still playing on his lips. “Do you want me to walk you to your tent?”
“I don’t think I could make it back to my tent.” You confessed before a fit of giggles. “I feel like I’m gonna fall over as soon as I get up.”
“What happened to that innate sense of direction?” He asked as he helped you to your feet.
You shrugged. “It seems to have left me.”
“Or you never had it.”
“I still have a foot and you still have shins.” You warned, though the slurring of your words left them without any threat. “Just cause I like you doesn’t mean I won’t kick the hell outta you. It’s called duality.”
He shook his head and helped you shuffle across the tent. Carefully, you two laid down and you felt the world shift as you did so. You made a noise, something like the joking sound of a ghost, and slammed a hand to the blankets. Bellamy’s hand closed over yours and you looked over at him. You broke into a grin and he returned the smile, not as wide as yours but an honest smile.
You shifted over and put your head against his shoulder. He adjusted his arm so it was draped over your chest and you two just laid there for a while. You continued to talk, about anything and everything. A butterfly you saw earlier that day. A conversation you had with Octavia. What you remembered from your earlier drinking game. Before you knew it, you were drifting off to sleep.
And for the first time since you stepped foot on the ground, you truly felt safe.
When you woke up, you had no idea how late into the day it was. Bellamy was still beside you, so you doubted it was that late. Your head pounded as you pushed yourself to sit up and glanced around.
Your brows furrowed as you realized you weren’t in your own tent.
You slapped a hand over your mouth when you realized. You peeked over your shoulder again and it sunk in that you weren’t in your tent. You were in Bellamy’s.
You muttered to yourself in panic as you got up quickly. Your clothes were which both left you relieved and oddly disappointed. At least he didn’t try to hook up with you when you were drunk, but being drunk might’ve been the only way you’d be confident enough to sleep with him.
You snuck a glance outside the tent and saw there weren’t many people around. With a sigh of relief, you stepped out and immediately winced at the brightness of the sun.
“Hello Sleeping Beauty!” Jasper yelled from basically across camp and you cringed as more heads turned in your direction.
You hurried over and whacked him on the arm.
“Ow! What was that for?” He complained.
“For making people stare at me!” You hissed.
“What difference does it make?” He laughed. “Oh, I see. You don’t want people to see you coming out of Bellamy’s tent.”
“Shut up!”
“Why? You didn’t have any problems going into Bellamy’s tent last night.”
“Jasper, I swear I will kill you!”
He laughed and threw his arm over your shoulders. “But seriously, Y/N/N. Yesterday you were ready to tear his head off, now you’re tearing his clothes off.”
You elbowed him in the ribs.
“Lay off, Jasper.” Bellamy said, suddenly at your side.
You stiffened for a moment before you hid your face in your hands. You complained to yourself, ignoring whatever the boys were saying around you, and wished to disappear. You peeked between your fingers and saw Jasper leave. Hoping Bellamy left too, you dropped your hands.
You were wrong.
“You feel okay?” Bellamy asked.
“Mortified, actually.” You answered. “But I didn’t kill my liver last night, just a headache. I’m fine, thanks…”
He gestured for you to follow and hesitantly, you did.
“You were pretty drunk last night.” He began as you fell into stride with him.
“Well aware, thank you.” You rolled your eyes. “I do appreciate you not leaving me on the ground. Can’t say I would’ve done the same for you, but…” You shrugged.
Bellamy laughed slightly.
“What?” You asked quickly.
“You don’t remember what you said last night, do you?” He smiled at you.
You were so taken aback by it, the true delight and shine of his smile, that you tripped over your own feet. You landed on your back and groaned, more in embarrassment than anything. Bellamy knelt beside you with an amused smirk and you threw your arms over your face.
“Kill me now.” You groaned. “What did I say last night?”
You wished you could melt into the floor.
“That you’re madly in love with me.”
You could hear the smile he still wore. You sat up quickly and nearly collided with him.
“I did not say that.” You defended quickly. You may not remember much of the night before but you sure as hell would’ve remembered saying that.
“I know, I was shocked. And then you said you just had to have me. You were pretty persistent.”
You squinted in suspicion but he feigned innocence.
“It’s true.” He shrugged.
You kicked his arm since you couldn’t reach his shins, but he just laughed.
“It’s alright, though. Wanna know why?” He smirked.
“Go on and enlighten me.” You rolled your eyes.
“Cause I might be madly in love with you too.”
“Might?” You raised your eyebrows. “So you just let any girl you might be in love with sleep with you?”
“Hey now. You tell people we slept together, they might get the wrong idea.” He offered you a hand to help you to your feet.
“Oh, please.” You scoffed. “It’s gonna take more than a few drinks and those pretty curls to get me in bed with you.”
His hands were suddenly on your waist and he pulled you flush against him.
“Worked last night.” He shrugged.
“Beginner’s luck.” You rolled your eyes. “Bet it won’t happen again.”
“You’re on.”
“And when I win?”
“When I win, you’ll be in my bed. If you win, I’ll be in yours.”
#bellamy x yn#bellamy blake x y/n#bellamy x you#bellamy blake x you#bellamy t100#bellamy blake x reader#bellamy x reader#bellamy blake fic#bellamy blake fanfiction#bellamy blake#t100 x reader#t100 fic#t100 fanfic#the 100#the 100 fanfiction#the 100 fic
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Hi! Where do you think Alastor's arc is going? Redemption or villainy?
Hi!
Thank you for the ask, I loved watching Hazbin Hotel and I am happy I can write for the series :)
As for now, I think Alastor will spiral and hurt Charlie very badly, but he will eventually redeem himself (probably in a key moment). That is because Alastor is framed as Charlie's Jungian shadow.
What is the Jungian Shadow?
According to Jung, the shadow is what a person represses, both positive and negative. So, it can be one's violent tendencies, but also one's potential and energy. It really depends on the person.
So, why does Alastor fit the Shadow Archetype? Well, first of all:
Alastor's powers make use of shadows. Not only that, but Alastor's own shadow is very expressive and shows the demon's repressed feelings. In other words:
On the one hand Alastor embodies the shadow, in the sense he represents what Charlie refuses to face
On the other hand Alastor himself represses his emotions behind a smiling face:
Alastor: Just because you see a smile, don't think you know what is going on underneath. A smile is a valuable tool, my dear. It inspires your friends, keeps your enemies guessing and ensures tha no matter what comes your way, you're the one in control.
This is a good characterization for a jungian shadow because the shadow grows stronger and more dangerous, when it's ignored. So, the most one refuses to face their feelings, the most these feelings fester and grow powerful and dangerous. This fits Alastor both when it comes to others and to his own character:
He takes advantage of an emotional unstable and vulnerable Charlie to strike an abimguous deal with her. Similarly, he uses Husk's gambling addiction to steal his soul. He uses people's weaknesses an unsolved problems to take over.
He suffocates his feelings, which symbolically manifest in his powerful shadow-tentacles. His design and abilities are representative of his psychological coping mechanism, which is nothing, but repression.
As written above, though, the Jungian Shadow can be both negative and positive depending on what one hides. This duality is shown in Alastor's two roles in Charlie's arc:
He is a demonic archetype (even moreso than Lucifer, the titular devil), as he waits in the shadows for a chance to manipulate Charlie
He is an evil mentor, as he genuinelly likes Charlie, sees her potential and wants to guide her towards greatness:
She's filled with potential that I could guide
This isn't a contradiction, but complexity. Alastor is chaotic and mixes negative traits and intentions with positive ones. Just like what people repress can be both bad and good, usually at the same time.
This is clear when it comes to the Princess of Hell:
Charlie to Alastor: What's that you said about smiles?
Charlie is similar to Alastor in how she represses herself behind her pollyanna persona and her smile. This doesn't mean she is faking her altruism and generosity, but that she is using these traits to hide something else:
Lute: The only reason you're still here is that Daddy gave you and your Hellborn-kind a pardon from an exorcist's blade. How does that feel? To know how little you matter.
Deep down, Charlie invests herself in the Hazbin Hotel project because she wants to matter. She feels powerless and unimportant, as a result of her parents' neglects and of Hell's difficult situation.
So, our protagonist has strong self-issues that she refuses to face:
Husk: Princess is a bleedy heart who wants to solve everybod else's problems, 'cept her own.
That said, this isn't the only thing Charlie represses. The Princess of Hell hides:
Every negative emotions she feels, like her self-hate or her anger at Vaggie for hiding her true identity:
Rosie: How does that make you feel? Charlie: Just... angry? Because we share everything! Because she always supported me, and my ideas, and now I don't know whether or not that was just more of the lies... Oh no, that's a horrible thing to think! Do I think that? Yes! No? Kinda?
Her most violent and aggressive side, which makes so she is unable to make full use of her powers:
Vaggie: Well, I mean... You're the princess of Hell, but you don't really use the power that comes with that. Mybe you can, I don't know? Command a little more... authority. Charlie: But that's so mean.
In short, by repressing her negative feelings, she also represses her potential. It is only by facing herself as a whole, that she can fully grow and bloom into her most powerful and complete self:
This is made clear in Charlie's quest in Cannibal Town. There, our girl is at her lowest, but she is pushing herself forward for the sake of her loved ones. She is trying to imitate Alastor by smiling, even if she is sour inside. However, things do not go well and it is only through her heart to heart chat with Rosie, that Charlie is able to pull herself together and inspire her people. Symbolically, she gets through them not with a 100% optimistic song like "Inside of every demon is a rainbow". Rather she opens her speech, by showing vulnerability and honesty:
It's a feeling like a rumbling in your gut That you could finally be faced with A billion needy faces I guess what I mean to say is For the first time in my life I might have to be ready for this Ready to be the one who's leading from the front Gotta come into my own Gotta come into my throne Gotta take charge and defend my only home And although I kinda feel unsteady Now I need to be ready for this
She affirms who she is and her willingness to grow into herself:
For the first time in my life Maybe I can be ready for this I can be the marshal leading the parade I can come into my own And I think I've always known My destiny could never be postponed When Adam brings the battle here I must appear like I'm ready for this
So, it is only by tapping into her own shadow that Charlie can be successfull. It is through expression and not repression that she can reach her goals.
What about Alastor?
He is the same, but so far he has been refusing to open up to others:
Angel: He's been here a while and he's still a big, creepy mystery.
That said, his time at the Hazbin Hotel has had an impact on him. He is forced to deal with others without killing them:
Vaggie: Pentious's eggs are all over the place. I need you to get rid of them. (...) Humanely!
He is shown cutting ties with a poisonous friend:
He openly admits he likes the people of the hotel:
Alastor: Ah, an enjoyable collective to be around. I admit one could get accustomed.
However, he still refuses to openly show vulnerability and ends up like this:
Let's highlight that Charlie and Alastor are foiled in The Show Must Go On song.
Both stand in the ruins of their homes/dreams.
The Hotel:
I took a hotel, and I destroyed it I know I could have done better Better, instead of letting you down
The Radio Station:
This place reeks of death There's a chill in the air And I barely escaped being killed by a hair
And both decide not to give up and to keep pursuing their objectives. However, Charlie is framed positively, while Alastor negatively. Why?
Charlie sings about her feelings openly and is supported by her father and found family:
Alastor sings about his pain privately and even then he barely shows his desperation before going back to his villanious mask:
Symbolically the moment Alastor reunites with the Hotel Crew, he sings:
And we're doing it with a smile!
He is back in control of himself, ready to hide everything behind his neverchanging smile.
So, Alastor is both Charlie's negative foil and Jungian Shadow. As her negative foil, he is bound to spiral. As her Jungian Shadow he is bound to be saved. Why is that so? Two reasons.
The Jungian Shadow can't be killed, but needs to be integrated with.
The main themes of the series are redemption and love, so it is improbable that Charlie won't help the person, who co-founded the hotel with her.
If anything, it seems that our princess is progressively asked to forgive, inspire and see the good in more and more complex cases.
It starts with Angel, who willingly stays at the Hotel. It goes on with Pentious, who infiltrates the Hotel, but makes no real damage. Then Lucifer, whom Charlie loves, but that has been absent from the majority of her life. Finally, Vaggie, who breaks Charlie's trust.
Each conflict Charlie has challenges her in a different way and helps her discover herself and grow. She is bound to meet new struggles when Lilith becomes a broken pedestal and finally when Alastor betrays or hurts her. Still, she is going to forgive and to understand them.
Charlie is going to see the good in Alastor and to better understand herself as a result. As a matter of fact Charlie's journey is one where she is slowly discovering a world, which isn't black and white:
If Hell is forever, then Heaven must be a lie If angels can do whatever, and remain in the sky The rules are shades of gray when you don't do as you say When you make the wretched suffer just to kill them again
Just like people aren't black and white. Just like she herself isn't black and white. By saving Alastor, she is gonna save herself too. Together with the whole universe.
And what about Alastor? Well, he needs to work on himself, as well. He too must integrate with his shadow, who is embodied by a certain character:
Husk is a powerful overlord, who lost his soul to a demon. Just like Alastor:
Husk: Big talk for someone, who's also on a leash.
Alastor and Husk are both on a leash. Still, Husk admits it and starts working on his shortcoming:
Husk: You're a loser, just like me
Alastor instead affirms his willingness to be in control and to pull the strings:
Once I figure out how to unclip my wings Guess who will be pulling all the strings?
Alastor is a loser, just like Husk. Just like all the characters in hell. Sinners vs Winners. And yet, he refuses to admit it. This is why he makes no progress. Similarly, he wants freedom, but enslaves others. This isn't going to work out, which is why I am fairly certain he will eventually set Husk free. Probably by doing so, Alastor will make the first real step towards his own freedom. He will start integrating his own shadow.
Thank you for the ask!
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel meta#alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#charlie morningstar#my meta#asksfullofsugar#anonymous
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I'll send a request for Dean first and later I'll send it about Sam. Because I have had this for a while.
Dean basically raised Sam, and took care of Sammy, and I think about this idea of the reader taking care of Dean while is sick, showing that Dean deserves to be cared for and loved too.
Sorry if it's confusing English isn't my first language.
🍉
Tender Care
Pairing : Dean Winchester X reader
Word count : 1.1k
Warnings: none
I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.
The bunker was wrapped in a calm stillness, there was nothing to do. Sam, Dean and Y/n came back from a hunt the night before and there were no potential hunts either. Y/n was in the library, dusting off the dirt that had accumulated on the further shelves, when Dean entered the open space with a mug of coffee in his hand. He didn’t speak, just took a seat on one of the chairs and admired his girl quietly.
The quiet of the bunker was broken by the sound of a loud sneeze. Y/n turned to look at Dean as he muttered a little ‘excuse me’. She nodded before going back to her work. She shrugged it off as a result of the dust filling his nostrils. He didn’t think much of it either.
Until a few hours later, he was sneezing constantly and his head felt heavy. His eyes were burning. His body felt weak and he felt cold. He groaned as the realisation dawned upon him, he was sick. He hated being sick. He pushed the thought aside and went into the garage to work on his Baby. Not before informing Y/n.
Y/n was in the kitchen preparing lunch when Dean entered the kitchen. She noticed something was odd in the way he walked. His nose was little red and so were his eyes.
“I’ll be in the garage if you need me.” He informed her. She noticed the change in his voice too. It was hoarse. She placed both of her hands on her hips and she observed him closely.
“Dean Winchester.” Was all he said and Dean looked like a deer caught in the headlights. He hated when she went full mother hen on him. And he knew it was coming. She took a step closer to him and touched his forehead with the back of her hand. “You’re burning up and you want to play mechanic?” She reprimanded him like a child. “Bed. Now.” It wasn’t a request. It was an order. And he was no fool to defy her orders when it came to this. He knew she would drag his ass to bed and chain him to the bed if needed.
“Yes ma’am.” Truth is, he could barely stand. He just wanted to distract himself by tinkering with Baby. But he could feel his illness coming to hit him with full force. She guided him towards their room with careful steps and laid him on the bed. She helped him out his jeans, getting him more comfortable and covered him with a blanket as she felt him shiver slightly.
“I’ll you bring some soup.” Y/n said but he grabbed her hand, stopping her from leaving.
“Don’t go.” He whined like a child which brought a smile to her face. He was cute when he wasn’t being all grumpy and a badass hunter. But he’s her grumpy badass hunter.
“I won’t be gone long, De.” She cooed at him lovingly. “I’ll get you some medicine too. I’ll be back before you know it.” She promised and he nodded reluctantly.
True to her word, Y/n came back fairly quickly. She had a tray in her hands which consisted of a soup bowl, a glass of water and some painkillers for him.
He laid in bed, looking pale and tired. His face was flushed from the fever, and he occasionally shivered despite being wrapped in blankets. A pile of used tissues sat beside him, evidence of his persistent coughing and sneezing. His nose was red and stuffy, making it hard for him to breathe comfortably. He felt weak and achy, with a dull headache adding to their discomfort.
She set the tray on the nightstand before sitting on the bed beside him. She pushed his hair away from his head. “Cmon baby, I brought you food.” She caressed his cheek gently and he closed his eyes leaning into her touch. “Dean.” She urged him to sit up. He sat up slightly and she adjusted the pillow behind him so he could be comfortable. She grabbed the bowl from the tray, she took a spoonful of soup and blew on it before feeding him.
Dean didn’t want to admit it but he liked being pampered by her. Even if meant getting sick sometimes. He hated being sick. All his life he had to deal with his sickness on his own. Even when he was a child. He took care of Sammy even when he was sick. And when Sam got sick he did everything in his power to get him better. Sometimes he wished, someone would do the same for him.
And when Y/n came into his life, she always took care him. She cared for him in more ways than one. Whether it was patching him after hunts, making sure he ate and slept adequately and taking care of him when he was sick. Sometimes he felt he was taking advantage of her kindness, that he didn’t deserve to be treated with such gentleness but she always assured him she loved him and felt happy taking care of him.
After the bowl of empty she passed him the tablet and he downed it with water. She helped him lay back and tucked him in the blankets. She got up from the bed but his voice stopped her. “Where are you going?” She placed a soft kiss on his forehead.
“Nowhere.” She replied getting up from the bed and turning the lights off. She rounded the bed and got into bed, laying beside him. He immediately rested his head on her chest and she started massaging his head. “Feeling any better?” She asked scratching his head lightly. He just hummed in response. He becomes a baby when he’s sick.
“Man, I hate being sick.” He mumbled after a few seconds of silence. He snuggled closer to her.
“It’s okay baby. I’ll nurse you back to health.” She replied holding him.
“Can you wear the sexy nurse outfit while you do it?” He grinned against her chest and she shook her head with a chuckle.
“Feeling better already, I see.” She remarked noticing he’s back to his flirty self. “Go to sleep, Winchester.”
“Yes ma’am.”
When Dean woke up he felt much better. His head wasn’t hurting anymore and his fever has subsided. And Y/n was still by his side. “Hey how’re you feeling?”
“Much better. Thank you for taking care of me.” He said throwing his arm around her waist pulling her closer.
“I’m just glad you feel better.”
With a content sigh, he pulled her into a gentle embrace, and they held each other, feeling the warmth of their closeness, as they enjoyed the simple comfort of each other’s presence.
Tags:
@spnfamily-j2 @galway-girlatwork @deangirl96 @queensilber
@s0urw00lf @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @deans-baby-momma @fullbelieverheart
@riah1606 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @hobby27
@starkleila @suckitands33 @m3ntally-unstable @kanekilovelove-blog @candy-coated-misery0731
#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#dean x reader#dean x y/n#dean x you#sam and dean#spn fanfic#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester x reader fluff#spn fluff#spn x reader#supernatural#supernatural fluff#supernatural x reader#supernatural fanfiction#jensen ackles#jensen ackles characters#nini writes
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tw porn link
mentioning of a age gap (everyone is 18+)
a bit dubcon
the age gap between you and Logan is quite large but it’s quite nice. the maturity is something you noticed when you started fucking around with him. When you would have sex with people around your age it was never good. There was always something that wasn’t pleasurable it could be people couldn’t find the clit or even not being able to finish at all and just picking up the pieces after. But with Logan, it was different a literal complete 180 compared to everybody else she’s been with. Logan knew Y/N wasn’t getting treated right sexually he could see it in her eyes and how she walked especially around him. He saw the longing in her eyes, the unspoken desire for something more, something that would push her beyond the boundaries of her mundane sexual experiences. Their first encounter was electric. Y/N felt a spark as their eyes locked, and a subtle smirk played on Logan's lips as he recognized the raw hunger within her. This was also helpful for Logan in many ways. He was essentially training her to keep up with him well also fulfilling something inside of him. He was never the date younger or at all for that matter, yeah he would fuck around and do stuff with people, but he was never really the type to commit. The only reason why he committed to you is because putting past everything sexual he needed you mentally and emotionally and a bit sexually. You were like a drug to him a breath of fresh air. With this newfound relationship, Logan discovered you had a thing for breeding. Usually, he would act very animalistic during sex, and it turned you on him growling biting being rough was a part of the appeal, but Logan was always smart when he would fuck you constantly using a condom, even though you said you were on the pill. In his mind, he wasn’t ready for kids. He didn’t even like kids and he would be damned if you got pregnant, but in the back of his head, he wouldn’t mind you being pregnant or getting you pregnant.
One day you were riding him after he came home from a meeting you could see how stressed he was lighting one of his expensive Cuban cigars and mouth-harassing it like he did your clit that morning before work. You couldn’t help with staring down into his brown as you bounce on his cock, feeling it, hit your cervix, practically abusing it. Logan looked up at you while breathy grunts left his lips. “Get off…if you keep doing that I’m going cum and I don’t have a condom,” he says breathlessly looking up at Y/N. He almost looked pitiful, but this was one of his softer moments compared to other times which Y/N enjoyed slightly. Y/N eyes roll back as her walls pulse around Logan’s cock signaling she was close as well “It feels so good. I just want you to fill me up like the dirty whore I am. ” Y/N moans as she grips Logan’s muscular arms tightly digging her nails deep into them. Logan growled in annoyance and pleasure before holding Y/N's waist guiding her body on his cock. “ You want me to cream pie in you I didn’t know you were such a slut. This is why you like old men filling you up with cum making you a potential mother. Huh, tell me, sweetheart.” Logan hissed as he placed his thumb on her pink puffy clit rubbing in its circles. It was almost like a flash of light while cumming all over Logan’s cock But with it feeling the warm and full feeling of Logan’s cum filling up her hole and leaking out of her like some overfilled Twinkie. Y/N slumps down onto Logan’s chest enjoying the orgasmic glow as cum pools out of her. “ You’re just a cum filled slut, aren’t you darling?” Logan said kissing her forehead and holding her close to him feeling the warmth between both of them.
#sykoangels#sykoangelssmut#logan howlett#logan smut#deadpool#wolverine#wolverine fanfiction#deadpool and wolverine#fanfics#smutty fanfiction#i need it#need that#hugh jackman
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Princesa
(FC Barcelona x reader)
Ona moved to Manchester United to get more minutes and to learn a new style of playing to eventually seek the opportunity to join Barcelona back.
On her first day after the diplomatic signing protocol, it was time to meet her new teammates.
Her new teammates were still in the pitch after having finished their training session. While she was greeting and getting to know everyone the academy players starting training. Immediately her eyes went to the academy’s player with the number 12, y/n l/n. She saw the smile on your face and your natural skills for the game, even if it was only a practice session she could see your talent.
The academy trained after the first team so every day she saw you training, she knew that Manchester’s playing style wouldn’t let your skills develop to their full potential and she knew that she had to do something about it.
After three months in MU, and after doubting if she should do it, she sent her national teammate, Alexia Putellas a text in which she talked about you, your skills, your playing style and about how your true potential wouldn’t be reached if you stayed in Manchester.
When Alexia received that message, she knew that you must be special, she knew that Ona wouldn’t have risked sending her that text if you weren’t. She asked Ona to find out the academy’s calendar so a Barcelona scout could go to see you play.
You loved playing football and you wanted to train even more time than the scheduled time with the academy so after asking for permission you were able to join the first team training sessions thrice a week.
As soon as you met Ona the click happened. She took you under her wing. As time passed, she subtly started teaching you some Spanish phrases.
Barcelona’s scouting team were delighted with you after seeing some of your games, they realized that what Ona told Alexia was true.
When your season with the academy ended, they contacted your parents as you didn’t formally have an agent. When you learned about their proposal you immediately knew who had “recommended” you.
The next time you saw Ona, you asked her about it and all she said with a smile was “Well nena, I might have sent someone a text.”
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
After MU accepted Barcelona’s offer for you you asked Ona travel with you during the summer to Barcelona so you could settle down.
After helping you to settle down in your new apartment she presented you to her family as her new “hermanita”. Her family immediately saw why Ona had “fallen” for you and told you that if you ever needed help with anything to contact them.
Before Ona had to leave Barcelona to full fill the second year of her contract, she gave you Alexia’s number. “Hermanita, if you need help with anything make sure to contact Ale. She already knows that I’m giving you her number so don’t worry about it.”
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Moving to a new apartment and in a new city with only 17 was scary so when the first day of training with your new team finally arrived you sent Alexia a text.
“Hola Alexia it’s y/n, Ona gave me your number. I was wondering if you could pick me up to take me to the training session.” “Hola y/n! No problem, Ona gave me your direction, so I’ll be there in 15 minutes”
When Alexia met you, she felt the need to protect you, to guide you.
She gave you a tour of the clubs’ installations, gave you tips and helped you in any way possible. If anyone for any reason was rude to you, they were quickly met with Alexia’s glare, everyone realized that you were under her protection.
The team loved you, when they learned about you joining them, they were a bit skeptical about it but after seeing some of your highlights with MU academy they realized why you were joining them.
Bruna, Jana and you quickly became the chaotic trio. Patri and Claudia became your annoying older sisters. Mapi, Leila, Jenni and Mariona your crazy/cool aunts while Frido and Ingrid became your sane aunts. Aitana became your best friend even with the age gap and Alexia your team mom.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Being homesick was the worst feeling ever. Alexia quickly noticed that you were feeling down and she took matters in her hands.
Alexia invited you over to her and Olga’s apartment. She asked Olga to buy some fish and chips for dinner.
After training Alexia took you to her apartment, shyly you greeted Olga and the dinner started. You realized that you were going to eat fish and chips, you knew that it was Alexia’s way to comfort you even if it was with the most stereotypical British dish her intentions really warmed your heart.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
A few months later the fans gave you the nickname of “La Princesa” not only because of your skills but also because someone did compilation video of moments between you and your teammates where Alexia babied you, Mapi got angry with a defender who had tackled you too hard, Frido was rubbing her sunscreen on your face before practice, a video where you asked for Ingrid’s help for your math’s homework and many other moments. Obviously, the video went viral, and you gained a new nickname.
You still FaceTimed Ona every day and in each talk, you told her about your every day in Barcelona. You couldn’t wait for her to join back the team.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
After a team bonding session at a restaurant, you were exhausted so Ale and Olga took you back to your apartment. Olga waited in the car while Ale carried to your apartment and used her spare key to open the door.
She changed you into your pijamas and tucked you into your bed. Before she left and closed the door, she gave you a kiss on your forehead and you sleepily mumbled “Bona nit mama”
When Ale heard those words, she couldn’t help but to grin and said “Bona nit filla” (good night daughter)
When she arrived back to her car she told Olga. “Amor, y/n just called me mama”
“How wonderful Ale, I know that you already see her as your daughter and took her under your wing. It seems that after all y/nn really is la princesa de Barcelona” Olga said before giving Ale a soft kiss.
"Amor, please remind to send Ona a thank you text"
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Part 2
#barcelona femeni x reader#woso imagine#woso x reader#woso fanfics#woso community#woso one shot#ona batlle x reader#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas imagine#barcelona femeni#fc barcelona femeni x reader
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Semiformal Kisses and Cat Fights
Art Cred: Kimmy_art0912 on Insta! Description: Among pulsating music, colorful lights, and a few girls who can't keep their eyes to themselves tensions rise, and your patience has finally run out. Happy Valentine's Day my loves!
The music is loud, blaring through the speakers, vibrating through the floor, multicolored lights spin, casting circles of neon colors across the walls of the bar. The smell of spilled drinks and perfume fills the air as you enter, your hand gripping Miguel’s bicep as you scan the room for Janey.
It’s been…a bit weird since your encounter in Miguel’s room a few weeks ago. At first, you were afraid you’d fucked up, that you had overstepped and ruined your friendship, but then it all kinda went back to normal. As normal as the tentative relationship between two people who almost kissed could be.
When you invited him to be your date for your sorority’s semiformal, on Valentine’s Day no less, you were so very afraid. What if he said no, what if everything you thought you saw, that you felt back in his room was all in your head? Which is why you said as friends right as he said yes. No going back then, so you—like a coward—played up the platonicness of it all, and tried to pretend like you weren’t avoiding eye contact.
Then everything got even weirder with the whole Ava thing. You swore up and down to everyone—except Mina—that you and Miguel are purely platonic, even when you gave him the cold shoulder and cried over him talking with his ex. Super embarrassing, no one but Miguel potentially believed you, and now you’re in a prison of your own making. You should’ve just grabbed him when he came to your door to apologize, should’ve kissed him when he stood in your room admiring his costume. Why didn’t you?
One of your sisters drifts by, bumping into Miguel, fluttering her eyelashes at him as she apologizes.
Right, that’s why, because you’re jealous and insecure and can’t stand to see other people flirt with him. So it’s better to just keep your distance so you don’t end up crying again.
Miguel’s bicep is solid under your grasp, so large your hand can’t even grip all of it.
The theme of the night was Great Lovers of History, which was a fancy way of saying dress like your favorite couple. It wasn’t hard to pick a costume, you, and Miguel both love the novel Dracula, even if it wasn’t as popular as the movie was. You had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from making some undignified noise when you saw how good Miguel looked. Those stupid huge muscles bulging, his broad chest, his toned back, he somehow made the ridiculous costume look impressive, and he even wore red contacts to get that perfect vampiric look.
You of course looked hot as hell, dressed in a flowy, but scandalously low cut white dress, hair curled and bouncy. Bram Stoker had never named Dracula’s Brides, but there was one, seemingly the eldest, that he favored over the other, so you decided to claim her role for the night.
“I don’t see Janey yet, she said she was already here.” You yell over the music, throwing a smile to one of your sisters as she passes by with her date. They’re dressed like Jim and Pam from The Office, it’s cute, a bit basic, but cute.
“Maybe she’s at the bar?” Miguel suggests leaning down to hear you better as he guides you through the crowd.
You can see people’s eyes on him, drinking him in, and feel another stab of jealousy. You know he looks hot, but he’s your date, not theirs. They can keep their eyes to themselves.
Janey and her date Eddie are dressed like Elizabeth and Mr. Darcey. You spot them immediately, right at the bar where Miguel suggested they might be.
You gush over Janey’s outfit, and she gushes over yours, and for a while that’s it. It’s a nice night, you drink, have fun with your friends, dance with Miguel, try not to feel insane over the number of times you have to remind someone that Miguel is here with you, and generally have a good time.
Then someone starts crying. It’s a new member, one whose Big is currently more interested in making out with her boyfriend in one of the bar’s booths than paying attention to her Little.
The new member, Addy, has tears in her eyes and mascara running down her cheeks as you usher her towards the bathroom, promising Miguel you’ll be back as soon as someone is able to break Danika away from her boyfriend.
You dry Addy’s tears while she tells you that she’s just so overwhelmed. That she brought the guy she has a crush on with her, but he seems more interested in one of the other girls in her new member class than her.
“And then Kaley said, ‘oh we have a class together, I was just saying hi,’ but like why don’t you just say hi then leave, why is she trying to dance with him?” Addy sobs, taking the paper towels from your hands and burying her face in them.
“I don’t know, sweetheart, but I’m sure he’s just trying to be nice and that’s why he’s dancing with her.” You coo, smoothing down her hair.
“And her boobs look so much better than mine.” Addy continues, flinging herself into your arms, and hiding her face in the crook of your neck.
“What? No, no way, you look amazing! And hey, if that’s why he’s dancing with her than he’s an ass, and you deserve better.”
“She literally brought her own date, and she’s been ignoring him! Spencer is a nice guy, we had Intro to Philosophy together last semester, and he took really good notes, so he would let me borrow them when I missed something or got sick. And, and he’s like super cute, I don’t know why she wouldn’t just stay with him.”
You bite your tongue to keep from laughing. “Maybe you should go talk with Spencer then, if your date is going to be an asshole, then there’s nothing wrong with talking to someone who isn’t. You don’t even have to dance with him, just go say hi. I bet he’s feeling the same way you are.”
Addy sniffles and nods, wiping away the last of her tears. “Yeah, Spencer has a really big heart, I’m sure he’s upset.”
You give her an encouraging smile and keep your hand on her upper back, supporting her as she walks past her date, who is very clearly staring at Kaley’s boobs.
Spencer pops his head up when he sees Addy, a smile spreading across his lips. “Hey Addy, you doing okay? I um…I saw you crying, I wanted to go over, but…”
“I’m okay, how about you? We’re kinda in the same boat, aren’t we?” She says, taking the seat next to him.
He scoots over so she has more room, his head dipping down to hear her better, his body language screaming I like you; I feel safe with you. It’s adorable, you feel like Cupid, as you watch the two immediately fall into a deep discussion about emotions and the philosophy behind them.
Now that Addy was taken care of, you roll your shoulders out and stop at the bar before heading back towards the dance floor. You don’t really know how it happened but two shots later and everything you’ve been drinking the whole night is finally catching up with you.
The only thing on your mind is Miguel, how much you adore him, how handsome he looks, how every fake bitch in this room has been eyeing him like a hyena eyes a wounded gazelle. You have to find him; you can’t leave your wounded gazelle all alone in this pack of jackals.
You find him, but he’s not alone. Your sister, though not one you particularly care for, is talking to him, well, trying to at least.
Dana is dressed pretty basic, red dress, and heels. You’re not sure who she’s supposed to be, and she doesn’t look bad, but the dress is too small, it doesn’t fit her right, and the color makes her skin look washed out.
“So, who are you with?” Dana shouts over the music, clearly unable to see you as you approach from the side, basically hidden by the other dancers.
“Y/N.” Miguel answers, eyes darting back to the bathroom entrance, your drink still in his hand, his discarded somewhere.
Poor thing, he didn’t see you leave.
“She left you all alone? That’s so mean.” Dana says, giving him an overexaggerated pout.
“She went to take care of a new member.” He says, always so quick to defend you.
She trails a finger down his chest, batting her eyelashes up at him. “Still, she shouldn’t leave a handsome thing like you alone.”
Miguel goes red, taking a step back, sputtering. “I—um, thank you, but I’m here with y/n, and—”
“Yeah, but y/n’s not here now, come on, live a little.” She takes your drink from Miguel’s hand. “This yours?”
Before he can say anything, she drains it, and smiles at him.
“That uh…that wasn’t mine.” Miguel says, taking another step back as she loops her arms around his neck and tries to pull him down to her level.
“Oh, too bad, and it looks like y/n still isn’t back, obviously you’re not that important to her, so why don’t you follow me upstairs?”
“Upstairs is blocked off.” Miguel says, so sweet, so oblivious. “And I’m waiting for y/n.”
He tries to gently push Dana away, but she hangs on. “Ugh, come on, y/n is so lame, don’t you want to have fun? You can have fun with me.”
You’ve had enough, blood boiling, you tap her on the shoulder, making both her and Miguel jump.
“Dana, your date is looking for you.” You say, saccharine sweet smile on your lips, your voice dripping with honey coated venom.
She untangles herself from Miguel, who looks like you caught him with his hand in the cookie jar. “Ugh, he’s so needy. Anyways, come find me if you need me, Miguel.”
The moment she leaves, Miguel turns to you, apologies spilling from his lips like water. “Y/N, I swear nothing happened, she just came up to me, and I told her I was here with you, but she kept going, and then she wanted me to go upstairs with her, and I told her upstairs is closed, and I was waiting for you and—”
You grab him by the neck of his costume and drag him off the dance floor, past the pitiful sign that asks people to stay away from the second floor, and up the stairs. Usually, the upper floor is open to the public. It’s a more secluded seating area with its own smaller bar and thick glass walls that block out some of the sound from below, bisected by cement pillars offering a modicum of privacy.
You’re tired of this, of watching everyone else get to grab him, touch him, flirt with him, he’s yours.
It’s darker on the second level, only a few safety lights, and the multicolored strobe lights flashing up from the first floor. It’s quieter as well, you can finally hear yourself think.
You keep walking until you find the corner booth and shove Miguel into it. Not for the first time you’re glad these damn booths are so big, Miguel can sit properly, facing you, without having to scrunch up. The alcohol in your system is making you brave, and a little horny, but mostly brave. You can see its effects on Miguel as well, the flush of his cheeks, the slight glaze in his eyes.
“Dulzura, please, don’t be upset, I promise, nothing happened, I wouldn’t—I’m here with you, and I know that we’re here as—as friends, but still, I wouldn’t…I didn’t—still don’t want to dance or spend time with anyone else.”
He looks so pretty, stumbling over his words, his hair all ruffled, his tone so sweet and pleading. You want him, bad. You know you shouldn’t. You were the one who said it was platonic, just friends, but when he’s here, looking the way he does, and everyone is circling around him like vultures, you just…
Fuck it.
You straddle him, grab his face, and kiss him.
Miguel short circuits, hands frozen in midair, body tense, and then it’s like a dam opens. His hands on your hips, pulling you closer, his lips moving in synchronicity with yours, warm, plush, the taste of tequila on his tongue, or maybe it’s yours, you can’t tell anymore. You’re practically devouring him with how desperate you are to finally, finally kiss him.
“Fuck, Miguel, I—I can’t be just friends with you, I can’t do it anymore.” You admit, breath catching in your throat when Miguel grabs your ass, his big warm hands hauling you even closer. “I need more, we have to be more.”
“We can be anything, anything you want.” Miguel says breathlessly, his glasses fogging up from the heat between you.
You tug his head back by his hair and attach your lips to his neck, biting down hard, intent on leaving your mark. “Don’t want other girls thinking you’re up for grabs, you’re mine, been mine since the first day of class.”
“Yes, yes, I’m yours y/n.” He whimpers, his hands caressing your body nonsensically, as if he can’t decide where to put them.
“Such a good boy for me, Miguel, looking so handsome, always so sweet, always saying just the right thing.” You continue your onslaught until his neck looks like a crime scene.
“Kiss me, please y/n, I need—please, please, I’ve wanted this for so long, please kiss me again.” Miguel begs breathlessly, looking absolutely wrecked.
So, you do, gladly, over, and over, and over again, until he builds the courage to tangle his hands in your hair, to venture under your skirt and grip your bare thighs, as he moans and squirms beneath you.
You can’t fuck him here, it’s too public, too rushed, especially knowing what you know, there’s no way in hell you’ll let Miguel’s first time be a drunken quickie at a bar. So, you pull back, cupping his cheeks, smiling softly when he whines and tries to chase after your lips.
You press your thumb to his lips, shaking your head. “We can’t, not here.”
“Why not?” He whines, pupils blown wide with lust, chest rising and falling rapidly, his grip brushing on your thigh and hip.
“Because I like you, and I respect you, so I won’t fuck you in a bar.” You tell him, pressing a chaste kiss to his kiss swollen lips before sliding from his lap.
Miguel pouts, actually pouts at you, and you nearly give in, but you steel yourself.
“Come on sweet boy, let’s go back to the party.”
He blinks at you as if he’s coming up from underwater, slow, liquid, then he bites his lip. “I um…I’m going to need a minute.”
You glance down and heat rushes to your face.
He’s hard, and huge, like massive, and your resolve starts to waver.
“What if I just?” You sit astride his lap and ghost your fingers over his covered cock. “Give you a hand?”
Nerd!Miguel Masterlist and the "part two" here
TL: @bat-bae, @nyctophilic0vitnir, @smokeywhalee, @obi-mom-kenobi, @prowlingforfood, @penggion, @crystal-crax, @oharasfilipinawife, @generalkenobitrash, @melsimps, @chrishy973, @farrowroyale, @palesatan, @scaryplanetdestroyer, @denzmallows, @36namey, @scoobysnakz, @ihateuguys, @idkbros-world @smartyren, @deputy-videogamer, @blackrose8425
#meg's writing#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel ohara x reader#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara x y/n#nerd miguel#nerd!miguel#nerd!miguel o'hara#college!miguel#college!reader#college au#that picture is so slutty and I want to just NMFGNVNSABVL
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Pairing: Yandere!Jingliu x female reader
Warnings: NSFW, reader has wings, transfem Jingliu, dubcon, dacryphilia, breeding, crying during sex, manipulation, nipple stimulation, mention of killing and blood, cutting of reader's wings.
Author's notes: I've had these requests from way before and I think the idea is interesting. Had second thoughts about this but... I've decided to serve it anyway.
MEN AND MINORS DNI
(dark content under the cut)
The creaking of the door always triggered anxiety, prompting you to hug your knees and wrap your wings protectively around yourself.
"Not even a greeting..." a cold voice pierced the silence, causing you to curl tighter. "But that's fine, you'll learn soon." The bed shifted as weight settled on it. "Show yourself, stop hiding." With reluctance, you moved your wings, reluctantly revealing yourself.
You saw Jingliu smiling at you so gently, but the sight of bloodstains on her made you feel nauseous. She moved closer, her hands working to undo the chains that bound you to the bed.
"Did you miss me?" she asked, extending her bloody hand to caress your cheek. Your breath hitched, and instinctively, you recoiled from her touch, causing her smile to vanish completely.
"Seems like you haven't learned your lesson..." she murmured. This time, she grabbed her blindfold, removing it and tossing it aside, revealing her red eyes. You've always been terrified by her eyes...
With a swift motion, Jingliu seized your hair, pulling your face closer to hers. "Looks like I'll have to teach you again how to behave towards me," she said coldly.
Panic surged through you, prompting you to grasp her arm, looking up at her while forcing a smile. "I... I missed you..." Your voice trembled, and your words nearly choked out, but upon hearing them, Jingliu released her grip on your hair.
"I thought so..." she said, her expression softening as she looked at you. "Now, come here." She opened her arms, signaling for you to hug her. Your gaze quickly shifted to the bloodstains on her body, but you concentrated on something else, trying to muster the courage to embrace her. Eventually, you wrapped your arms around her back, resting your chin on her shoulder.
Jingliu returned the hug, her hands tenderly caressing your wings, eliciting soft sounds from you. "You really are warm..." she murmured softly. Her other hand moved to the back of your head, gently patting you. Despite her comforting gestures, the scent of blood clinging to her made it difficult for you to relax fully in her embrace.
The hug persisted for a few more moments before Jingliu gently guided you by holding your shoulders, urging you to look at her face. "I love you..." she mumbled softly, leaning in slowly to plant a kiss on your forehead.
Her lips lingered on your skin for a moment before she looked at your face once again, her eyes filled with expectation, as if anticipating your response.
Feeling the pressure to reciprocate or face potential consequences, you attempted to gather the words to lie and say you loved her back.
"I... "as you tried to speak, you found yourself struggling.
"I... l-lo..." your voice faltered despite your attempts and the words you wanted to say simply wouldn't come out.
The shift in Jingliu's eyes from expectation to disappointment intensified the pressure on you to force the words out.
However, the rising anxiety within made it increasingly difficult to speak. Her disappointed gaze triggered memories of the distressing experiences with her—your cries for help while she violated your body, the echoing sounds of skin meeting skin, the feeling of her inside you, the sickening squelches—all flooding back vividly.
Jingliu grabbed your face, her eyes piercing through you. "Do you love me? Say you love me. Now!" she demanded through gritted teeth.
Love her? The sudden question echoed within you. There was simply no way you could love her, not after everything she had done to you.
She approached you, luring you into believing she was a decent person. She'd be filled with excitement recounting the heroic tales of your past accomplishments—a rare moment of joy, feeling appreciated when everyone else had forgotten.
You genuinely enjoyed your time with her, until another person saw you and recognized you... that's when it all began.
Jingliu loathed it—the way you smiled while listening to someone else's stories, the way they diverted your attention from her... she detested it all. So, she did the unthinkable—she killed that person right in front of you.
Jingliu viewed you as an angel, believing you shouldn't be tarnished by anyone deemed inferior. She perceived you as a celestial being meant solely for her possession.
You collapsed in shock upon witnessing someone you consider as a friend being brutally killed by someone dear to your heart, causing you immense distress.
Seizing the opportunity in your broken and vulnerable state, Jingliu took advantage and confined you in an unknown location—a cabin where you've remained trapped, unable to leave since that traumatic incident.
The thought of fighting Jingliu crossed your mind, but the thought of harming the first friend you made after years of loneliness and abandonment weighs heavily on you.
You tried to escape numerous times, but Jingliu always managed to catch you immediately, resulting in her teaching you a "lesson" each time you tried to flee.
"Last chance..." she whispered into your ear, her hands moving to your sides, gently caressing you. "Say you love me or I'll have to teach you another lesson... worse than the last one..." she added, her hands now delicately brushing over your wings, moving across the soft feathers.
You made the effort, trying your utmost best, but with Jingliu this close and with her gentle touches, speaking at all became impossible. Her mere presence felt suffocating, rendering you unable to voice anything in response.
Jingliu sighed deeply, leaning back to gaze at you. A trace of pity lingered in her eyes but swiftly shifted into lustful desire. "I'm doing this for you... all of this is for your sake. You have to learn." she said softly, gently caressing your face before pressing another kiss onto your forehead.
She pushed you onto the bed, causing your wings to flop onto the soft mattress. "Behave, hm? I don't want to hurt you." she said with a faint smile on her face.
"I'm... s-sor... ry..." you managed to choke out, tears forming in your eyes. You didn't even know why you were apologizing—perhaps hoping she might take pity on you and let you go, or maybe it was an apology for disappointing her. Your mind was becoming a mess, and you had no clear idea or thoughts anymore.
Jingliu just sighed, gently caressing your hips with a gentle smile. "Shh, it's okay. All you have to do is stay still and take all of it... and then I'll forgive you." she whispered, now moving her hands to lift up your shirt— the only piece of clothing she's allowing you to wear, exposing your breasts to the cold air.
Jingliu leaned down and kissed your stomach before licking her way up to your breast, licking your nipple before gently taking it into her mouth and making you grasp the sheets while moaning softly. Her other hand reached out and massaged your other breast with her icy touch.
"You're mine..." she mumbled against your sensitive nipple, making you feel shiver down your spine.
Soft whimpers escaped your lips as she continued licking and suckling on your nipple possessively, giving the same amount of attention to the other one until both of your nipples perked up.
Jingliu leaned back, admiring your body while you covered your eyes with your arms, tears starting to flow. The sight of you excited her even more. "Adorable..." Oh, how Jingliu relished the sight of your silent sobs, finding you in such a pathetic state. She desired to make you cry even more...
You heard a soft rustling sound, and as you glanced up, you noticed Jingliu slowly shedding her clothing, revealing her massive erection. It filled you with an overwhelming sense of terror and anxiety, causing your breath to catch in your throat.
The fear within you intensified even more as you thought about something so big claiming your body once again. Despite the fear, you cannot bring yourself to say no and push her away. Perhaps it's the fear of facing punishment if you deny her, or maybe... you've come to accept your situation. She's the only one you have, the sole source of comfort, the only person you can talk to.
"Now, let's become one, my angel..." She whispered huskily as she gazed down at you, her crimson eyes burning with unquenched lust. She gently held your hips while her other hand guided her massive erection toward your quivering entrance. Despite your relative dryness, she pushed steadily forward, filling you with an overwhelming sense of fullness that made you whimper in pain.
Her entry was slow yet insistent, stretching you wide enough that you feared she might tear you apart. You grasped her arms tight as your wings started flapping slightly as if your body is trying to push itself away, sobs escaping your lips as her size invaded you inch by slow inch. Jingliu sensed your distress and wrapped her powerful arms around you in a soothing embrace, humming softly in her chest as she kept moving deeper and deeper inside you.
Her cold embrace surrounded you, easing your suffering as she continued to comfort you. Her gentle whispers coaxed you through the pain and into submission. Your soft feathers flew around as your wings kept moving, your distress evident with every pained sob.
Moments passed and your wings started to droop down as you slowly adjusted to her girth, and though you were still in discomfort, your body slowly began responding to her presence.
"I've waited enough... now entertain me." With a low, husky growl, Jingliu lifted you up by the waist, bringing you closer to her lap. You couldn't help but let out a sharp gasp at the unexpected change in position, but she only smirked wickedly before pulling you down on her lap, burying her length even deeper inside you.
The new angle sent shivers racing through you as she filled you to the brim, her muscles flexing as she pulled you down harder, stretching you impossibly wide. She tightened her hold around your back, her other arm holding your waist firmly as she began a steady rhythm, pounding up into you with an insatiable hunger.
"Ah... haah... please, wait." You breathed hoarsely, attempting to push yourself away to catch your breath. But Jingliu was quick to anticipate your move, gripping your sensitive wings with a firm hand, making you cry out in response.
"Mmh, your wings are quite sensitive, aren't they?" She mused cruelly before yanking your wings more forcefully, drawing whimpers from you. "N-No... please, not my... hmnggh!" You groaned desperately, trying in vain to pull yourself away as Jingliu continued her relentless assault.
With each thrust of hers, she dragged you down onto her lap using your wings as handles, filling you more completely each time until you felt utterly consumed. You were at her mercy, helpless to stop her as she claimed your body, her grip on your wings only growing stronger and more insistent.
Feathers flew in every direction as you instinctually flailed your wings, attempting to free yourself from Jingliu's grasp. Her unwavering grip on your delicate wings only amplified your sensitivity to her every thrust, sending jolts of pleasure and pain through your entire body. "Still trying to escape?" she rasped darkly before crushing your wings even more tightly.
"You're mine... If I have to break you over and over again just for you to realize that, I will." Her voice grew thick with hunger as she plowed into you with renewed vigor, filling you completely and relentlessly pounding up into you.
Your anguished cries reverberated throughout the cabin as she mercilessly delved deeper into your depths. In torment, your hands scrabbled hungrily against her back, clawing deep furrows into her skin as you fought to preserve even a sliver of your remaining sanity.
Despite the pain of your nails piercing her flesh, Jingliu remained impervious, consumed by her passion, her focus solely on her relentless pounding. The blood trickling down her neck and shoulders only served to further fuel her desire.
Her powerful thrusts battered you from within, leaving you defenseless against the overwhelming rush of emotions. With your wings trapped and your body consumed by the intensity, your struggles eventually ceased.
Your wings drooped listlessly, your sobs fading into shallow pants as you struggled for air, your body going limp as you fell into a state of exhaustion. "I'm so close..." Jingliu purred, the sinister undertone of her voice belying the tenderness with which she held you.
"I'm going to fill you up so good, I know you love it when I do that..." she whispered, her voice low and husky. She shifted your position, forcing you to lie on your back before she continued her movements. Her thrusts grew harder, faster, deeper as she chased after her orgasm. You were powerless to resist, your mind filled with nothing but the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body. Your arms covered your eyes, blocking out the world around you as you tried to shield yourself from the intensity of it all.
You couldn't hold back any longer, your body convulsing as pleasure exploded within you. Your hips bucked off the bed, coating the sheets beneath you in warm, sticky fluid as Jingliu continued her relentless pounding.
As her climax finally broke over her, she cried out in a long, primal groan, her body shuddering violently as she emptied herself inside you. Her grip on your hips tightened painfully, holding you still as she rode out her orgasm to its bitter end.
Your insides warmed, slowly filling with her thick essence. She felt it envelop her length, a sensation that drove her to the brink, prolonging her own climax. Her hips slammed against your quivering body as she poured herself deeper inside of you, painting your womb white with her thick load.
Once her orgasm had ebbed away, Jingliu's thrusts gradually decreased until they came to an eventual stop. She took a minute to catch her own breath before leaning down to embrace your quivering, limp body, not even bothering to pull out.
"I love you..." she whispered lovingly, grabbing your arms and pinning them above your head to see your pathetic face full of tears. "I said, I love you." she repeated, her tone threatening.
Your vision blurred with unshed tears as you stared blankly at her, too exhausted to form words. The silence only seemed to intensify Jingliu's gaze, her eyes darkening as she watched you struggle for breath. She gripped your hips firmly, pulling out of you slowly, relishing the way your body whimpered in response. Your entrance quickly filled with her thick cum, oozing out in long, slow streams.
"I planned to stop after doing it once... but you're being disobedient." she mumbled and before you could even process what was happening, Jingliu flipped you over onto your stomach, lifting your hips up high into the air.
She leaned down, her breath hot against your neck as she whispered, "You'll learn to love me back. It's only a matter of time." And then, she plunged back inside of you, claiming your body once again, her thrusts growing harder, faster, deeper.
You gritted your teeth, feeling the familiar invasion of her thick length pushing in and out of your sore walls. Each thrust sent a shiver of pain through your body. You buried your face into the mattress, trying to muffle your moans as she pounded you once again. This time, her thrusts were rougher, more demanding, as if she was really trying to split you open.
She pulled you closer, her hand fisting in your hair as she forced you to raise your head. "Bad, bad angel..." she murmured, her voice a low growl. She punctuated her words with hard, punishing thrusts, each one forcing your cervix to kiss her invading length painfully. She held you tight, not letting you go even as you squirmed and writhed beneath her.
You let out heavy sighs, your throat raw and throbbing from all the moans and cries that had escaped you. You couldn't help but shiver as her other hand pressed down on the bulge her thick length was making on your stomach. Her words echoed in your mind, a dark whisper that sent chills down your spine.
"I'm the only one you have..." she whispered, her lips brushing against your ear. Her thrusts grew deeper, her hips slamming against yours, claiming you completely. "You've been forgotten... your heroic actions are now just forgotten tales." She kissed your neck, her breath hot against your skin. "But with me, you'll never be forgotten. I'll always be here to remind you of your place."
"No one needs you out there anymore... you've been abandoned by the people you protected." She whispered softly, a light chuckle in her voice that seemed to echo your innermost fears. The reality of her words hit you like a ton of bricks, tears streaming down your face unbidden as a wave of sadness washed over you. Your heart ached, knowing she was right. Who were you if nobody needed you anymore?
In that moment, she suddenly yanked your head forward with such force that you collapsed back onto the mattress, her body pinning you down. "Shh, hush now..." She spoke gently, her voice soft but commanding, "You belong to me now. You'll find purpose in being mine." You sobbed into the bedsheet, overwhelmed by emotion but strangely feeling safe within her protective grasp.
As she kept you pinned down, her hips continued to grind against your sore entrance, her thick length drawing a mix of cum and your fluids. "Do you understand now? We're just two forgotten people, our only place is in each other's arms." she whispered into your ear, her words resonated inside you like a realization you were seeking.
Despite being a hero to some once, you were now just a forgotten figure, much like her own forgotten existence. It seemed like the perfect match, two forgotten entities intertwined.
She pulled out almost completely before driving herself back in with a forceful thrust that made your body jerk forward. You couldn't help but whimper, feeling completely filled by her length. In that moment, it felt as if all you had was each other, forgotten by the rest of the world, united in pleasure, and bound by a shared understanding.
She gave you long powerful thrusts that made you cling to the sheets for dear life, your eyes rolling back as you gasped for air, overwhelmed by sheer pleasure coursing through your body. Your insides ached from her relentless barrage, yet somehow it made you crave even more.
"You're tightening... hah. Keep doing that and I'll give you everything I have." she rasped, her voice thick with desire. As she said the words, her hands shifted to your stomach, pressing hard on the thick ridge of her hardened length. It sent shivers down your spine as her pleasure overflowed into you.
She continued to ravage your sensitive depths, driven by the pleasure you were providing her, her hips pistoning with renewed fervor.
Finally, she let out a loud grunt, her whole body stiffening as an intense orgasm wracked her frame. You felt her seed bursting inside you, hot and thick, coating your inner walls as she collapsed on top of you, still pulsating deep within.
You bit your lip, feeling so full and exhausted. You took a deep breath, mustering all the energy you had left. "...love you..." you whispered, your voice so small it was barely audible. But Jingliu heard it, her whole body twitching inside you, her softening cock coming back to life at the sound of your voice.
She pulled back, a hearty chuckle escaping her lips and making you lift your head up to look at her over your shoulder, "Ah, there you go. You made me wait so long." She leaned in, kissing your lips hungrily, her tongue dancing with yours deliciously. She nipped at your lower lip, enjoying your soft whimpers.
Jingliu pulled away from you, looking at you with a mix of love and longing in her eyes. She carefully pulled out, your sore entrance oozing with a mix of your fluids. "I love you... I love you so much." she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
Her tone turned cold for a moment as she pressed her hand against your head, holding it down firmly. "You're not going to fly away from me anymore, right?" she asked, her voice edged with a hint of warning. You felt a shiver run down your spine, a nervous tension settling in your belly.
Suddenly, an intense coldness washed over you, a sudden chill that made your skin prickle with goosebumps. You couldn't look back, though - Jingliu was pressing your head against the mattress with such force that it hurt. You couldn't move, couldn't even twitch...
Jingliu's voice held a hint of cold cruelty, her words sending shivers down your spine. "You don't need these wings anymore..." she whispered, her breath tickling the back of your neck. You panicked, realizing what she was about to do. Your wings - your source of power, your connection to your past - were about to be taken from you.
But your body was too sore, too exhausted to even move. You couldn't fight back as she gently caressed your wings goodbye. Then, suddenly, you felt the cold, sharp prick against your skin. A scream tore from your throat as she began to slice away at your wings, feathers fell everywhere, dancing in the air like snowflakes. Every swing of her sword sent fresh waves of pain coursing through your body, making you grip the sheets tightly, pushing your face into the soft fabric of the mattress.
The agony seemed to go on forever, but eventually, the cutting stopped. You lay there, panting heavily, feeling the weight of your loss settling into your bones.
You lay there, looking lifeless, your eyes blank as your trembling body dripped with sweat and tears. You couldn't help but stare at the feathers scattered across the bed, your mouth hanging open with drool dripping down your chin. Jingliu approached you carefully, her voice soft and soothing, "Shh, shh. I'm here." She gently wiped away your tears and drool, lifting you up in her arms. "It's okay now..." she cooed, as if she weren't the reason for your pain.
When you woke up, you couldn't remember much; the bed had been cleaned, not a single trace of feathers remained anywhere. You glanced at your body, covered in bandages. "Finally awake..." Jingliu approached you with a gentle smile, her once-scary red eyes now seemed very comforting. "Mhm..." you replied with a faint smile, and Jingliu moved closer to kiss your forehead.
Despite feeling pain all over your body, there's also a sense of lightness, as if a burden had been lifted off your shoulders. Remembering every detail of that night— the pain, the screams, and the slow loss of your wings—you still find it difficult to be upset with Jingliu for what she did.
Jingliu diligently tended to your wounds until they healed completely, as though you had never possessed wings. However, whenever she has to leave, she still chained you to the bed, yet made an effort to return swiftly, bringing whatever you desired. Over time, you grew accustomed to the sight and scent of blood on her body whenever she came home to you.
You ceased attempting to escape from her, finding solace in the memory of your wings. Uncertain if they would ever grow back, you realized that even if they did, you would willingly let Jingliu cut them off once more if she desired. After all, you've come to accept that she's the only one you have and the only one you need.
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