#“Everything hurts when you realize the universe will continue without you”

[hawaiiparty2]

Some SELF-ISH oc doodly doodles because IM BORED AS FUCK AND I INDEED NEED TO DO SOMETHING WITH MY LIFE OKAY.

*cries*

Disclaimer: this was just a joke, Earl's eye is not a separate person or something like that

Hi pookie!!!

Dr.sunshine? More like, dr.sunSHIT hahahahah

hey... does that hurt, like, opening your face in half hurts. why is your face mostly a mouth. what are you eating for your mouth to be that big. and dont say your mama

[bobluvbot]

someone you loved

pairing: sirius black x f!reader  summary: your relationship with sirius hurt so much, that the only way forward was to forget. wc: 3k a/n: angst angst angst!!! lots of negative self talk and low self esteem, allusions to a bad childhood (not stated directly), implied emotional abuse & cheating, both sirius and reader are going through it.

snippets of his voice echo in your head like a haunting lullaby that doesn’t seem to end. its funny how the mind is known to block out the traumatic memories, but for some reason, yours kept record of the most painful ones that left his lips.

you’re just too much. 

i can’t love you the way you expect me to.

i’m ending this.

i’m sorry, but i can’t deal with this, with you, anymore.

it keeps repeating like a song once loved, now loathed left on repeat, and a stop button might be somewhere but you can’t bring yourself to turn it off. it reminds you of that habit you secretly developed when you had two large bruises on both your knees after a nasty fall, bone hitting pavement. nothing bled, which was a relief to the new babysitter as no bright band-aids would be blatant proof of her lack of attention on the kid she was supposed to keep watch on. blood kept within the skin, nothing left to do but to watch your body slowly take it back. you were curious of how the color changes each day, the angry reds bleeding into dark purples that resemble galaxies that you’d see on your astronomy books. one day spent examining your bruises again, you pressed on the reddish purple one too hard and tears spring up your eyes when the sting hits. but as it lingered and faded, a strange feeling of satisfaction replaced it, and you felt the urge to press on it again, curious to see if the same unknown feeling makes an appearance again. It does, and the fascination as you play in between the lines of pain and pleasure follows you as you grew up. Curious, you once read up on it from those muggle books, where you learn that the body itself releases pain-killing hormones that help relieve the perception of pain, leading to a temporary feeling of relief. 

you knew thinking about sirius’ words will never not hurt, will continue to bury you in a deepening hole that you have to fight to the nails to crawl out of, but you couldn’t stop. 

It gave deep seated satisfaction to that green monster in the back of your mind, responsible for only seeing the negative in each situation you find yourself in. ‘i told you so,’ it says in a tinny singsong voice, clearly pleased with each iteration of sirius’ words and the raw metal stabbing your heart each time.  

it also serves like a constant reminder of your failure. Failure to love like a decent person, failure to be the person that sirius needed, failure to gauge what was too much that the other person drowned without you knowing, failure to protect yourself and your dignity from being trampled on like nothing, and failure to just simply accept the fact that love just wasn’t made for people like you. 

being friends with lily made you forget a lot of things, fundamental parts that you realized so young. you knew better, should have after everything you’ve gone through, but somehow with her, anything seemed possible, achievable, tangible when you’re a kind person. marlene would always say, doing good things meant you can expect to receive good things back from the universe.

and for the most part it seemed to always work that way. you’d witnessed james nurture the simple appreciation he had on lily’s genuine smile at him that eased his nerves while they were in line to get sorted into houses throughout the years, growing as he’d gotten to know her innate kindness and wit, and finally erupting from him like rays of sunlight until he became brave enough to speak it out loud starting fourth year. 

Even though the marauders had acted questionably during their early years of exploring their pranking abilities, james had always been full of love. Never hesitating to share it to those he truly cared for. it took lily years to accept this, and more to gain courage and let herself experience it. 

by 7th year, you never believed a love could thrive like that whilst cradled with such young hands until you saw james and lily do it effortlessly. 

so what part of this could’ve made you think otherwise? 

were you to blame for believing in that fantasy, that something like this could be attainable for someone like you, too? 

you had always housed deep adoration and awe for sirius black, like many others, despite his wild reputation and scandalous rumors that seem to always follow when his name gets uttered.

why? Because he was once the raven haired boy who slipped the trolley witch a few sickles when he saw you return the pumpkin pasty after realizing you couldn’t afford it. 

it had been a gloomy tuesday. the trolley witch was supposed to go compartment by compartment, but the bumbling first years seemed to miss that memo and started piling up close to the cart to see what was being sold that she had to force them all in a line. you were quiet and unobtrusive as you stood patiently in line; which was nothing compared the boys’ raucous laughters and animated chatter behind you. sirius would’ve accidentally pushed or stepped on you if he didn’t see your figure. the train was loud and so was james’ mouth, so excited to be away from his parents and to have his first official Hogwarts friend, but sirius also stood close enough to you that he could hear your stomach grumbling and see your arms crossed over your midsection. he admitted once that he found the gurgling sounds funny (like an eleven year old would do) but he didn’t have the heart to poke fun at you because he remembered he’d hear the same thing from his own when his parents would send him to bed without eating. 

even before your turn, you were already overwhelmed at the amount of food and candy available, none of which sounds or looks remotely familiar to what you’ve had growing up. your heartbeat picked up when you heard loud sighs, feet tapping impatiently (both James) snorting and shushing (sirius), and just grabbed something that resembled bread, quickly apologizing to the witch that gave you a kind smile. you hadn’t eaten anything as you rushed to pack the mismatched, secondhand supplies that the headmaster had sent you, and you were dropped off to the station just in time before the train left. your fingers trembled in excitement to finally eat and in hunger as you fished out your coin purse. It took a few seconds before it sunk in that you don’t have enough to buy your pasty. How embarassing. 

You swallowed your tears back, willing the hateful voice in your head to keep quiet for a minute or two, just enough time to put back the pasty and run to your deserted compartment, where you could freely go to town beating yourself up for your stupidity. Just quick enough so no one will notice. 

It took three deep breaths before the dam opened, for the tears to run uncontrollably down your cheeks. You couldn’t even wipe it off because your hands were still clutching your stomach, trying to ease the growling, gnawing pain. Pathetic.

The compartment door opened and you didn’t even hear someone clearing their throat, only looking up when a hand dropped three pasties, a chocolate frog, and a bottle of pumpkin juice on your lap. Barely balancing it, you looked up to see who took pity on you, but only caught a glimpse of stark raven hair and alabaster skin.

you’d find him later during sorting, squeezed between three boys that couldn’t seem to shut up about what house they thought the other would go. not used to kindness, much less from a complete stranger, you hesitated approaching him. but fate always had a weird way of showing you it does listen to your wishes once in a while and you found yourself later on, scooting a bit to your left to make space for him on the bench of your shared house. you both exchanged a knowing smile, and you’d always remember him like that. The kind boy who gave you a feast even without knowing who you were. 

you’d remember that boy when the pouring rain had finally soaked through your thick coat as you waited patiently for him at madam puddifoot’s on your first Valentine’s day. Despite the fact that he was already two hours late and the cafe would be closing soon, you chose to wait. 

you’d remember that kind boy when some mean ravenclaw girls in class would pick on you for the most absurd things, embarrassment coursing through your veins as you looked back at him desperately for some reprieve, only for him to avoid your gaze and continue to guffaw at something James said, effectively ignoring your existence. 

You once asked him why. It was embarrassing how quick he figured out what you were really asking. In fact, he knew a lot of things: that he didn’t deserve your love (or anyone’s for that matter), that someone as pure and selfless as you shouldn’t even associate with the likes of him, and that he was aware of every single thing he does that shatters you whole. He knew that he should tread this conversation gently, to not let his claws rip further skin more than he already has, but the Black darkness has its way of slithering out of the deep recesses he tries to bury it in. 

Words leave him exasperatedly, like he’s not spouting words that cut through skin. “I’d been clear to you right from the start, of what I can give you and what I can’t. You knew what you were getting into, Y/N. you put this onto yourself.” 

He storms back into his dorm before he could hear your quiet sobs echo through the empty common room. 

—-

lily knew in the back of her mind that this wasn’t just a simple, silly request now, but more of an obligation to her closest friend. 

it’s been three weeks. three excruciating weeks to be handed and given and filled with so much love she didn’t need to ask for, whilst seeing her best friend chip away with the lack of, like a once-bright porcelain doll that was abandoned and exposed to the direct heat of the sun. 

you had finally gone silent by last week, like a shut door. refusing to eat, go to class, speak—- hell, lily bets, if you could also not breathe by choice, you wouldn’t. It’s like youre keeping everything you once had given to the world thoughtlessly, close. Dorcas thinks you were keeping close to heart the mundane things that make you alive, to remind yourself that you still are. She had said, like air to a balloon. lily cried herself to sleep that night, the thought of losing such a fundamental part of her life, you, inch by inch, day by day, in front of her very eyes was a haunting, damning thought. Something that she and you both thought would come so much more years later, with unsurmountable memories, many glasses of champagne and slices of cake, wrinkles and smile lines, more laughter and loving hugs exchanged. 

she had thought the silence was a welcoming sign of change. A necessary step towards acceptance and moving on. she was relieved when your crying stopped, tremors leaving your fingers, and there was a chance again for the redness to vacate the whites of your eyes. She held hope that she and the girls can start working on instilling your light back, hopeful that a few months from now their star can find its way back to its rightful place in the sky and everything could be okay once again. 

Lily looked forward to nights that were filled by snores and shuffling of sheets, not the unmistakable sound of your feet on the wooden floors, misjudging that everyone was asleep, the muffled creak of the dorm room door opening and closing, and your footsteps fading in the dark. She’d wait fifteen to thirty minutes (the longest was an hour or two on the first night) before she’d hear you return, footsteps still light but she could hear the slight drag in each step, almost as if it was taking so much of your might to even make it to the bed. the quiet whimpers would start, followed by muffled hiccups lily knew only happens when you cry too hard. it took so much of her to exercise self-restraint, to keep herself on her own bed and not lay beside you and hug you as if it’s something that could put you back together. 

She has to turn her back on you even if it felt like raw betrayal. 

Because that one time she didn’t, she couldn’t forget the look of horror, dejection, desperation, and pure unbridled embarrassment on your face when you realized she knew what you were up to late at night. She knew you came up to the boys’ dormitory, crawling into sirius’ bed, where you begged and begged for him to take you back, that you’ll be a better more doting and loving girlfriend this time around, that you won’t be too attached this time and will give him the necessary space and time he needs so he doesn’t feel suffocated, that you’ll be anything, do anything just for him to welcome you back into his arms and whisper sweet nothings in your ear until your throat was raw, and sirius has to physically take you back to the start of the staircase to your dormitory. 

this happened for days and days on end until the boys had to lock their door at night, or whenever sirius is in. 

james couldn’t meet lily’s eyes when he’d ask for her help to keep you apart from Sirius as it would do you no good. they had gotten into a fight because of this, because lily heard nothing but  ‘stop her from making a fool of herself’ and her best friend is the smartest intuitive empathetic kindest witch she had ever met; the farthest thing from a fool. 

But one day those very words came off your lips with a hollow laugh. “But I am a fool, Lily. No one in their right mind would even do half the things I do.” It would be hypocritical for lily to deny sneaking out at night and crawling into your ex’s bed and begging for him to take you back as something of a desperate fool would do. A girl once had chased and pined for Remus during the entirety of fifth year and the things she did to get his attention were laughable at that time. But she didn’t plan to see the same, even worse, done by her best friend, and she still couldn’t wouldn’t call you a fool.

After all, your only fault was that you loved. And that shouldn’t even be a fault because that’s what she did with James, marlene with dorcas, her father with her mother. even someone as selfish as petunia could find love and be loved right back. 

you of all people deserved to love and be loved right back after everything you’d been through, and james would say the same thing for sirius as well. 

but sirius was a complex person, lily could recite this on top of her head from endless times where you stood your ground, defending sirius’ honor like he’d see your great martyrdom and suddenly consider you once again worthy of his love and affection. Before, she knew of sirius as a friend and James’ brother— but she knew more than what she signed up for because you’d fill in the gaps for her when she’d try to beat some sense into you during the unacceptable treatment you’d accept from sirius. 

You’d say with such confidence “he loves me, he’s just going through a lot right now, especially after that howler his mother sent him a few days ago.”

You didn’t have to elaborate, lily remembered that day vividly, not because of the way sirius’ face fell when the howler began its assault had reminded her so much of how she’d react after getting bitter letters from petunia, but because that same day she saw sirius being manhandled by a hufflepuff, both kiss sick and all over each other, into a secluded broom closet. 

It was years worth of push or pulls, of moral dilemmas that would get the outspoken redhead to choke on her words, and dejectedly sweep them under the rug out of your sight. Because the beaming smile and flushed cheeks you’d sport when Sirius murmurs sweet nothings in your ear, the weight on your shoulders dissipating when tucked in his arms, the jump in your step whenever he’d kiss you on the forehead and wish you good luck for the day— Lily couldn’t bear the thought of robbing you with those moments of bliss, even when it’s all done in private. 

So in an empty classroom on a gloomy Tuesday afternoon, she points her wand at you, fingers trembling and tears trailing down her cheeks, but you don’t see any of these. Instead, your beautiful features wear a serene expression that weakens lily’s knees. Oh how she missed her dearest friend. She’d do anything in the world to get you back, hold your hand, and dance with you in the autumn rain. 

So she does the wand movement like she practiced for days and takes a breath. She pictures you and Sirius happily dancing barefoot during the yule ball, your blushed cheeks when you told her about the feel of his lips on yours for the first time, you on sirius’ shoulders as you carried the quidditch cup, both smiling big as remus snaps a picture from the muggle camera, you drifting off to sleep on sirius’ shoulder while your hands were laced as you rode the train back to hogwarts.

Before mumbling the incantation, obliviate.

[holy-amelie]

'You fell first but...' sfw (Sunday)

...he fell harder ˎˊ˗

·.༄࿔ characters: Sunday, you

·.༄࿔ pairing: Sunday x g/n!AE!reader

·.༄࿔ cw: no tw, fluff and hurt/comfort, non-native english author, written before 2.7, but contains spoilers/leaks, be careful! Can be ooc but this is how I see him at the moment. You are from the Astral Express here.

·.༄࿔ a/n: still need to remember how to write things properly qwq

You fell first, that's for sure.

It's even funny how quickly this young and charming Halovian found his way into your heart. It only took a polite smile at the first meeting to ignite this new, funny feeling deep inside your chest.

It seems there was a real reason people on Penacony spoke of him as the most eligible bachelor in this part of the universe.

Soft, calm, as if glowing from within. No wonder you were the one who got closest to him during the investigation. There was something special about Sunday that only attracted you more, beckoned you like a moth to a flame. Maybe it was the fact that you wanted to destroy his perfect shell, or the fact that you already saw through him.

All his little nervous habits, his quiet and a bit awkward chuckles, the way he pressed his lips together when he was unhappy with something, just to hide it all behind the facade of an all-forgiving and all-understanding host. And the way his eyes were sparkling when he was passionately talking about something important.

You saw glimpses of Sunday, not the head of the clan.

Of course, it's foolish to fall in love at first sight with someone you've just met and barely know. But you can't help your heart. Especially when his image doesn't leave your head for a minute and fills all your thoughts.

And, yes, it was even more foolish to expect him to suddenly fall in love with you in return. As the head of the clan, Sunday was always busy with more important things (even more important than it might seem at first glance). So all you had to do was quietly carry the burden of these irrational feelings inside you.

Did it get easier when Sunday revealed all his plans? No. Some things you did not agree with, some things you could understand yourself. Was it easier when he lost? Once again, no.

You seemed to be the only person from the Express willing to run after him no matter what. And you would have if Robin hadn't beaten you to it.

But... he fell harder.

For Sunday, life ended after he lost and lost everything: his position, his home, his sister.

Life is a rather ironic thing, so when he suddenly found himself on the Express, broken and lost, it felt like a cruel mockery. The people who were against him suddenly gave him a place he could consider his new home. Even if temporarily.

Among the entire crew, you remained the only person who didn't look at him with suspicion or even a kind of apprehension. Not at all. It was you and your unexpected concern for his well-being that helped him rise from the very bottom of existence.

Sunday was emotionally naked before you. He was choking back tears and begging for forgiveness, even though you had long since forgiven him. The once strong and reserved leader suddenly showed his true self - mentally tired, exhausted, so desperate for warmth.

That's when he finally realized that he craved your attention more and more. Sunday was willing to be alone with you for the rest of his life if it meant that all of his problems would finally fade into the background. He continued to live not only for the fulfillment of his and his sister's dreams, but also for you.

Aons, Sunday was willing to give up everything as long as your gentle presence continued to take away all his pain, to fill his hear with love and warmth, giving him new purpose.

No wonder your innocent and shy love finally started something new in the end.

Including his new life.

please, do not rewrite/copy/repost/translate my work without me knowing, you can always ask first, thanks

[levandright]

BEST FOR YOU ✦ P.SH

pairings : ex! sunghoon x fem reader ୨ৎ content / warning(s) : hurt with comfort, sunghoon gets closure ୨ৎ word count : 1.5k ・ archive

synopsis. sunghoon reflects on his past relationship with you, feeling the weight of your breakup and the distance that has grown between you. as he sees you move on, he is reminded of your shared memories and the love you once had. coming to terms with the changes in your lives, sunghoon finds peace, wishing you well as he lets go of the past and the connection you once shared. lev notes : this is inspired by the song best for you by slchld <3 i actually cried when i first finished writing the draft which was shorter (around 700 words) and this is my first ever angst!! hopefully it doesn't dissapoint >.> i genuinely had such a hard time writing some parts but i pulled through with the power of friendship!!

sunghoon sat in his room, the dim light of his desk lamp casting shadows against the walls. the air conditioning hummed softly, the only sound filling the silence of the quiet evening. he leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair as his gaze drifted to the window. the stillness in the air matched the quiet that had settled within him—a feeling he couldn’t shake, no matter how many times he tried to distract himself.

there was something about the loneliness tonight that felt different. it wasn’t just the silence that made it seem so heavy, but the creeping ache in his chest that had been growing for months, ever since your breakup. sometimes, in the middle of a busy day, he would forget that the person who used to be at the center of his world was no longer there. but in moments like this, when it was just him and solitude, the reality of it all hit harder than he cared to admit.

the soft glow of his phone screen illuminated his face as he unlocked it, absentmindedly scrolling through his instagram feed. it wasn’t like he was looking for anything specific—just trying to fill the emptiness in the room with something, anything. his thumb paused when he saw your post. you were smiling brightly, laughing with your friends at some outdoor café. the image felt almost surreal to him.

he had never been the type to go through his ex’s social media, not anymore. but today, something had drawn him in. he couldn’t help but wonder how you were doing, how you were living your life without him. it had been a while since you breakup, and he had been trying his best to move on, to accept that things were over between you two. but seeing you this happy, living the life you’d always dreamed of—it hurt.

your smile was the same as it had always been, bright and effortless. but now it wasn’t for him. it wasn’t because of him. that realization hit harder than he expected. his heart clenched, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe.

he continued scrolling through your feed, stopping at another post—a picture of you and him, taken months ago at the park. he remembered that day so clearly, the way the sunlight had filtered through the trees and made everything glow. it had been a perfect day, one that had felt like it would last forever. how naive he had been, thinking that nothing could tear you apart.

but everything had changed.

back then, you and sunghoon had been inseparable. high school sweethearts. you had shared everything with each other: dreams, laughter, and even the inevitable frustrations of growing up. you were each other’s safe haven. but life had a funny way of pushing people in different directions, of breaking apart the very things that once seemed unbreakable.

he remembered the late nights he’d stayed up studying, only to have you call him crying, talking about how much the distance between you two was weighing on your heart. and then there were the times he was too exhausted from his part-time job to really listen, too caught up in his own world to hear the desperation in your voice. he was juggling university, work, and trying to hold onto a relationship that was slowly slipping through his fingers.

sunghoon had never been good at balancing everything. he had never been great at handling the outbursts or the tantrums that sometimes came from the overwhelming pressure of your long-distance relationship. back then he had only been able to offer quick reassurances, tired words that meant little in the face of your pain. and when the break-up came, it felt like a punch to the gut.

the reason you drifted apart was simple, yet so complicated at the same time. you both had grown, and in that process, you had grown away from each other. the person he was back then, caught between uni and a part-time job, he had failed to truly see the depth of what you needed. and now looking back, he wished he could have done better.

"i should have tried harder," he whispered to himself. "i should have been there more."

but that didn’t change anything now. he couldn’t go back in time and fix his mistakes. all he had now were memories, and the reality that those memories would never become anything more.

the pain of that realization had hit hardest after the breakup, it felt like the ground had shifted beneath him. for so long, he had imagined his future with you. suddenly, he was adrift, lost in a world that no longer made sense. he remembers nights lying awake, replaying the last few months of your relationship, questioning what he could have done differently, feeling anger, confusion, and heartache twist together inside him.

eventually, he learned to let go of the resentment, to see things with a little more clarity. you both had grown, and sometimes people simply grow in different directions. even now, he knows that his feelings for you haven’t faded, that part of him will always love you in some quiet, unspoken way. but he’s come to accept that you’re better off without him, that he needs to let you go fully.

and then, one night, it happens. he’s scrolling mindlessly again when he sees it. a new photo—one that’s different from the rest. you’re standing next to someone, a guy with an easy smile and a warm, gentle presence. jay.

jay, sunghoon had heard about him from mutual friends. he was kind, thoughtful, everything sunghoon wished he could have been for you back then. and now, it was clear: you had found someone new. someone who made you happy. someone who could give you everything he couldn’t.

sunghoon sat back in his chair, feeling a lump rise in his throat. it felt like the final confirmation that you had truly moved on, that his place in your life was nothing more than a shadow now. he’d always imagined a future with you. he’d imagined growing old together, supporting each other through everything life threw at you. but now, all he had were his memories—and even those felt like they were fading, slowly but surely.

he looked at the photo again, your smile still as bright as ever, but this time, it wasn’t for him. it was for jay. and a strange peace settled over him. you had found love again. you were with someone who made you feel the way you deserved to feel.

sunghoon took a deep breath and opened your chat. he had been avoiding it for so long, unsure of what to say, but now he knew. he wanted to reach out one last time. he didn’t expect anything in return, but he needed to say what was in his heart. after all, he had never been good at letting go, but it was time.

his fingers hovered over the keyboard as he searched for the right words. they trembled slightly as he types:

“hey y/n… i saw your post. i just wanted to say, i’m really happy for you. you deserve all the happiness in the world, and i know jay will treat you the way you’ve always deserved to be treated. thank you for everything, for all the memories. i’ll always wish you the best.”

he paused, staring at the message for a moment before pressing “send.” a weight lifted off his shoulders as soon as he did, his heart heavy yet at peace. by saying goodbye in that simple message, he was letting go, wishing you well—even though he knew he’d never see your smile in person again.

sunghoon sat back in his chair, his eyes drifting back to the photo of you and jay, the one that had started all of this. for the first time in months, he wasn’t angry or sad. he wasn’t resentful. instead, he felt an odd sense of closure, a peaceful acceptance that the two of you were no longer meant to be.

his mind wandered back to the first time he saw you, in the school library. you had been sitting at a table, a pile of books in front of you, your head slightly down as you concentrated. when your eyes met his, you smiled shyly, and something in him had shifted. it was as if the world had slowed down just for that moment. that smile had been the first spark, the first flicker of something that would grow into an overwhelming love. that first smile had stayed with him, a memory he carried through every moment you shared.

“i fell for you right then,” sunghoon whispered to the empty room. “and i think, a part of me will always love you.”

he closed his eyes and leaned back, letting the memory of that smile wash over him. it was bittersweet, but in that moment, he finally understood. you had been his first love, and though that chapter had closed, it would always be a part of him. and that was enough.

he whispered a final goodbye to himself, letting the memory fade into the stillness of the night. with it, he carried a silent promise to move forward, even if it meant holding a small piece of you with him forever.

as he drifted off to sleep that night, he silently wished you well, hoping that wherever life took you, you would find everything you were looking for and more.

perm taglist. @honeychocos @honeybelleee @manaah02 (open!)

©levandright

[anki-of-beleriand]

A Heart Made of Glass ch. 18

Summary: Ten years ago you left Wanda and the Avengers to heal your broken heart. You never stopped being a hero, just as you never stopped being in love with her. But life had to go on.

Now, after all that time, she is back and with her is a young woman needing help and an enemy that may not be as afraid as Wanda to lay a claim on you.

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Powered!F!Reader - Scarlet Witch x PoweredF!Reader - Past Wanda Maximoff x Vision - CarolxF!Reader

Warnings: Angst, drama, mentions of cheating, fluff, violence, Switch!Reader, internalize homophobia, hurt, comfort, Wanda being a complete mess, anger management issues, jealousy, Requited/Unrequited love, idiots in love, swearing, mentions of alcohol. More tags as the story progess.

Author's Note: This story is a continuation of Dirty Little Secret I was really surprised at the response I got for the story. Thank you for the support.

Nothing ever eneds, I thank you guys for being with me to the very end of this story, I hope you like this last one!

Please, do remember English is no my mother tongue so forgive my grammar, spelling and funny mistakes.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Epilogue

Epilogue

The first snow of the season broke into the sky without a warning.

America wrapped her coat tighter around her body, she glanced around the hall rolling her eyes when her ears finally caught the sound of bickering down the airport bridge. The hand grasping hers called her attention, and she soon watched the same exasperation in Kamala’s face when the both of them found Yelena and Kate bickering all the way out of the plane with the stewardess watching them with relief.

 “Why are the fighting now?” Kamala finally asked dragging America away, “let’s go before anyone here thinks we come with them.”

America chuckled following Kamala down the bridge and into the airport, it had been this way since they decided to make the trip and go to Ulsteinvik for the holidays. Not something Mrs. Khan was happy about, and she had made it quite clear that was expecting a facetime with her daughter as soon as they got home, of this America was to make sure would happen without any delay.

They soon found themselves in a busy airport glancing at the signals around, before going for their bags. It had been almost six months since America had been home, and more than eight years since she had started the Young Avengers team with Yelena.

The world was a better place, but it was always expectant of a new threat that might as well come from the space as well as a different dimension. In all this time, America had lost friends, and had made new ones, she had found loved and had been part of a family that no one thought would be possible in this time and universe.

Kamala ran excitedly after the bags, speaking fast about all the things she wanted to do and see. America had always wondered how someone could speak so fast but she had gotten used to her girlfriend being a chatter more so if she was about to see her two heroes. America smiled happily when Kamala finally realized she had been talking alone while looking for the bags.

“Seriously? You let me rant all on my own so people would look at me as if I’m crazy.”

“I think you’re adorable.” America replied, Kamala rolled her eyes grabbing her hand and dragging her to the rental cars section.

“You’re lucky you can convince me with your sweet talk. Come, I think I hear the bickering from Yelena and Kate down this way.”

It took them at least one hour to get everything ready and to find a car that would take them down the road to their destination.

America glanced out of the window, and as it happened whenever she made the trip, she started remembering that first time Wanda brought her to Norway. She remembered how scared she had been, how lost and angry she felt at that time, and then how she found herself in the midst of more negative emotions that had threatened to just consume everyone around her.

A lot of things had happened since that fateful day and now America couldn’t be happier with the outcome. After a little more than an hour America could see the lighthouse coming into view, her lips broke into a smile and her stomach filled with exited fluttering.

“Gee, I think we made it just on time,” Yelena said glancing out of the window, “it seems as if a storm is coming over.”

“Well, it is just that time of the year, I’m just dying to get home and have bath, I don’t think I have one since we left New York two days ago.”

Kate wrinkled her nose nodding in agreement with Yelena, America rolled her eyes glancing at Kamala before they finally got a sight of the gate leading to the main entrance. America straightened up smiling, the house finally came into view completely and she found the many changes into the property that had happened in the last couple of years.

The small kiddie park to the sight was right now protected with a waterproof tent that protected the full structure and there was a couple of bikes tightly protected into the garage. Yelena parked the car and as soon as America stepped a foot out of the car she was jumped by a bundle of blue that came at her at full speed.

“America!!!” Tommy grinned at her, her arms wrapping tightly around her waist with his hair completely messed up, wearing a light shirt and pants.

“Tommy!!” America grabbed the five-year-old in her arms and lifted him high, he started laughing.

Kamala softened at the sight coming closer only to see another brown-haired kid watching from the entrance of the garage with a frown and a blue jacket on his hand. America carried the kid to the garage, with Billy still scolding at his brother lifting the jacket.

“Tommy! Momma said not out without the jacket!” Tommy pulled out his tongue hugging America tightly.

“Is that all you’re gonna say, little dude?” America knelt down, Billy hesitated before stepping in and hugging America still glaring at his brothers disregard of the jacket.

“Hi.” He mumbled, America chuckled kissing his forehead and pulling him up in her arms.

“It’s so good to see you again, guys.” America entered the place with Kamala and the others following them inside.

America smiled when she finally stepped inside the place she had called home inside her mind and heart. Her nose soon filed with the sweet aroma of fresh cookies, everything inside the house had been decorated for the holidays with a mixture of colours and lights that made the place looked quite homey. Everything inside the house had changed, the pictures that now decorated the main hall and the living room reflected and spoke of the stories that could be told about those changes.

Kamala found herself fascinated by the place, she had been to America’s home only a couple of times but this would be the first time she would spend the holidays with her family. The young woman made her way to the closest cabinet, and her eyes fell upon a picture of Y/N and Wanda smiling into the camera. They both looked completely happy, smiling while showing off the hand wearing the ring in their hands; right beside that one there was a picture of them in the Young Avengers lair with America right after the young woman had graduated from college.

Every single picture was taken at a special moment, and it was a continuity of stories the family had gone through over the years. Kamala let her eyes fell upon the last picture, her smile deepened when she saw Wanda the twins with America and Y/N on each side of the bed smiling tiredly to the camera.

“America?” You came right around the corner with your phone on your hand, your face broke into a grin coming over to the young woman and sharing a hug with her. “Oh, it’s so good to see you!”

America hugged you back, and you felt how the tension from the last couple of days left her body. The twins were talking in fast Russian to Yelena who was kneeling to make sure she did not miss a single word while Kate watched the scene with a lopsided smile. You chuckled turning to the room, your eyes gleaming happily at all of them.

“You guys are earlier! I didn’t expect you until tomorrow.”

“Yes, well, this is my fault, Mrs. Y/L/N.” Kamala said turning around, she blushed under your stare. “I just thought we should come earlier than planned because the weather has been worsening in some parts.”

“Always the thoughtful one, right?” You came to the young woman hugging her as well. “It’s good to see you too, Kamala, how is your mom?”

“She is fine, just a little upset I will be gone for over a month.” Kamal shrugged. “She did tell me to tell you that she expects you will come by next time.”

You nodded knowing how Mrs. Khan could get with the subject of her daughter and the family in general. You went to Yelena pulling her up to hug her before kneeling and grabbing the twins.

“You guys, I’m so happy to see you, now some things first.” You declared calling everyone’s attention. “Wanda is asleep she hasn’t felt well lately, so I expect you to be on your best behavious, understood?”

This time around you looked at Billy then a Tommy, both of them nodded squirming around in your arms until you put them back on the floor.

“Yes, mom!”

“Now, guys, remember what we practice?” The twins nodded their heads, Billy went to grab the jacket stretching his hand towards his brother who made a face but put the jacket on.

“Now, help America, Yelena, Kamala and Kate get into their rooms.”

You stood up winking at the young women, “the twins will help you guys settle down, you know for as long as you guys are here this is your home.”

America came to you giving you another hug, the both of you waited until everyone had gone back to the car and leave the both of you alone. The young woman stepped back, her dark eyes finally analysing the state you were in observing the bags under your eyes and the weak twitch of your lips.

“Is everything okay?”

You sighed shaking your head, “not really, Wanda has not felt well and I am out of ideas.”

America could tell you were really worried about your wife, she placed a hand on your forearm looking around then back at you.

“Have you guys talked to the doctor?”

“Yeah, he made some test and it all comes down to the fact that…” You trailed off shrugging, “they think the way the baby is just like Tommy and Billy.”

“they have powers.”

“Yep, and it seemed whatever powers they had it was taking its toll on her.”

The first time around no one spoke of the complications of pregnancy, no one had prepared you and Wanda to face a pregnancy with a set of twins that had powers whose energy sometimes was too much for Wanda to deal off alone. While it had been difficult, America had never seen the level of concern she was seeing in you right now back when the twins were born. You offered a weak smile shaking your head.

“Don’t worry, go get settle and I will wake Wanda so you can say hi.”

“Nah, don’t worry, I will do so when she is up. Don’t wake her up.”

You chuckled shaking your head, “you really have grown a lot, uh?”

“Of course, now that we are here we can help with the twins.” America heard laughter and something crashing into the ground, she winced turning towards the door. “I better make sure they don’t break anything.”

You watched America leave, standing there for a few moments you then turned around and made your way back into your room.

The place was dark, with a single figure resting on her side breathing in and out evenly. Your face softened almost instantly and whatever tiredness or worry you had felt dissipated when your eyes fell upon the figure of your pregnant wife. When you and Wanda had first come together, you had always wondered if a pregnancy was really possible. You wondered how the miracle worked and if Wanda was ready to face the fact that, perhaps, whatever child that was conceived might not be the same twins she had imagined at some point.

The world, the universe decided to prove you and her wrong.

As soon as you two started worrying about if it was possible or not, the miracle worked itself out and soon Wanda had gotten pregnant. The young woman had been terrified and she had cried her eyes out to Natasha because the last thing she wanted it was for you to doubt what was happening. She was so afraid to tell you her latest mood swing and crazy cravings along with the morning sickness had been an unexpected pregnancy.

Natasha had tried to mediate, but Wanda was terrified, she had tried to gather everything she had done in between the time of conception and the moment she found out about it to ensure she had proof of her fidelity to you.

You approached the bed remembering the day Wanda had told you about the twins. She had cried and you had laughed, you knew it was bound to happen. The other Wanda had told you the story, and all you had been doing was to wait. Wanda had been so relief, she just hugged you tightly promising to you she did nothing wrong and that her babies were yours.

The sleeping form on the bed shifted, you knelt in front of her your hand brushing away some strands of hair.

“Hey, sleepyhead, how are you?” You leaned in kissing Wanda on her forehead, the young woman fluttered her eyes open with her lips curling slightly.

“Hey, what time is it?” She asked groggily, you leaned in kissing her slowly melting into the lips until Wanda was putting you to her.

“America and the others are home.” You mumbled in between kisses, Wanda sighed offering a wicked smile.

“So we have a moment for ourselves?”  She wiggled her eyebrows and you couldn’t help but laugh at that, instead of taking into the offer you rested beside her kissing her face and neck.

“Mostly, the twins are in charge of settling them in but that won’t take too long.”  

Wanda pouted snuggling closer to you, her stomach pushing against yours making it difficult for you to actually hug her properly.

“I love you.” She said suddenly, looking up at you, you furrowed your brow never growing tired of her words.

“I love you too.”

This time around the kiss was a reassuring touch of lips, a simple promise of comfort while Wanda held onto your form with need. You broke the kiss, placing your hand on her stomach the little life growing inside her stirred restlessly.

“How are you feeling, love?” You nuzzled your nose against hers, Wanda sighed offering a comforting glance.

“I’m okay, just tired.”

“Soon, my love, soon the baby will be here and I will be able to help you more.”

“You’re doing enough, Y/N, stop worrying so much.” Wanda could tell these complications had affected your greatly.

This pregnancy had turned out to be quite the ordeal, Wanda never thought this time around things would be even more difficult than the first time. The baby inside of her had been consuming a lot of energy, and the young woman could sense just how restless the baby could get at times but mostly whenever Y/N was fuzzing over completely concern or helpless to help in the situation.  Wanda had tried to ease out your worries, but it was just part of your personality and part of who you were , and for that Wanda loved you even more.

“I worried enough.” You kissed Wanda again, needing for this moment to be special, for her to feel your love through the kiss while making sure your child was also aware of your protective nature. “I worried for you and the baby enough, I don’t want anything bad happening to either of you.”

Wanda cupped your face pecking your lips smiling, “nothing is gonna happen, now help me up because I want to greet America, I really missed her.”

You turned around standing up to give space to your wife, Wanda hid away her winced when she felt a pain on her side. When you turned to her she had already hidden her expression before grabbing your hand, squeeing it lightly putting you to her.

“Thank you.”

You blinked confusedly, “why?”

Wanda leaned back and the smile she offered you as enough to melt your heart all over again.

“For this.” She placed your hand on her stomach, then grabbed your other hand in hers. “For Believing in me, in us, for giving me this second chance. I love you so much.”

You furrowed your brows blinking slowly, your arms wrapped around her placing a kiss on her cheek.

“Baby, are you sure you’re okay?” This sudden outburst of honestly and love was not strange to you, but sometimes hearing Wanda voiced it made you think perhaps something had triggered such a reaction.

Wanda shook her head, grabbed your hand and dragged you to the door of the room.

“I just…I never get tired of telling this.”

You had been successfully distracted, Wanda could see the smile in your face while she tried to hide the pain in her abdomen. Making sure she held onto you she, follow you into the living room ready to greet America and the others while trying to forget her discomfort an enjoy the holidays with her family.

*****

In the next couple of days everyone seemed to fall into a light routine.

You loved having everyone at home, with Billy and Tommy growing up so fast and ready to use their powers, having some helped was always a welcome change. You and Wanda had been working around the baby’s room while making sure everyone was comfortable at home. Kamala and Kate had been ready to help you out while also loving the good share of stories you could share about either Yelena or America.

All in all, the holidays had become a real adventure and you couldn’t be happier to enjoy the time you spent with your family. In all that time, you had noticed Wanda had been quiet with just a few winces that she would brush off to continue spending time with America and the twins. You wished you could brush it off but the fact that Billy had been walking around her with that overprotective glint in his eyes told you there was something else going on.

You dropped on the sofa completely drained; the twins were on the TV room watching movies before getting ready to go to the city with America, Kamala, Kate and Yelena, while Wanda was taking a bath back in the room. You

“Honey! I’m home!!” Natasha entered the place looking around with her arms full of bags, she raised a brow looking around to see you sprawled on the sofa.

“Honey, I’m freaking tired.” You replied eyeing owlish at Natasha, the older woman snorted making her way to you dropping some of the bags on the sofa.

“So it seems. Where is everyone?” Natasha sat to your left, her hand playing with your hair while her eyes flashed concern. “You look sick.”

“Nah, I’m tired.” You replied sitting up while leaning against the older woman, Natasha was not completely sure about your words but for the time being she would let it slide.

“How was your flight?” You asked to Natsha who could only shrugged.

“It was okay, I was actually wondering if I would make it on time.”

In the last couple of years Natasha had been living in France, after he last mission and clear demands for her retirement she had made sure that no one, much less people from any government would find out where she had been leaving after getting off the grid.

“Good, I think you’re just on time, Wanda was getting ready just before we go to the Christmas market.” You straightened up nodding to the different bags now on your sofa. “Let me take you to your room, you can get ready because you are driving.”

“Oh, sure, put me through the torture of driving you and your wife while my sister and America deal with the twins.”

“You know that’s the only reason I invited you guys over, so someone can watch over them while I have my wicked way with my wife.”

You chuckled watching the face that Natasha was making at the moment, she picked up half of the bags while you helped with the other half.

“Please, keep those torrid details for yourself.” Natasha walked right behind you, her mind making a mental note to ensure you would actually have a good night sleep that day while watching over the twins.

“How’s Wanda? How far along is she?”

“She is fine, she just entered the eight month so she is huge and a little cranky about the whole thing,” You stopped death on your tracks turning to Natasha, “please don’t tell her I told you that.”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

You sighed in relief resuming your stroll, “I think she has been feeling some discomfort, but she is just to stubborn to say anything about it.”

“A discomfort?” This time around Natasha didn’t hide her worry, the last time had been difficult enough and this time around they had tried to make all the right arrangements to ensure the pregnancy was an easy one.

Tony had helped with that.

“Yeah, I don’t think is anything worth mentioning, but…” You hesitated, your mind was raising red flags, there was something bothering you about the whole situation but Wanda seemed to be fine. “I think the baby is taking up too much energy.”

“So, another powered kid?” Natasha snorted, though her eyes softened lightly. “Are you ready for another one?”

You chuckled shrugging, “obviously, I am not. But I’m just happy to welcome the baby into our lives, I love them already.”

Natasha smiled letting herself be told everything you had done ever since you and Wanda found out about the baby. She was happy to see she didn’t get it wrong the moment Wanda crossed the threshold of that very home to come and ask for help. Natasha had always known the hurt in your heart was deep, and that it would take years to heal, but at the end of the day, your loved for the other woman had been deep and pure enough to just work it out.

And now, after so many fights, so many heartbreaks and misunderstandings, happiness had come alongside peace for the both of you.

“Well, we’re leaving at four, so you ready to make the trip again? I wouldn’t mind if you stay…” You stated watching as Natasha yawned stretching around, the older woman winked at you.

“Don’t worry your little head, Y/N, I’m gonna take a bath and I will be there ready to leave.”

*****

It had become a tradition after the twins had been born.

They had been too small to remember those first times, but Wanda and you always remembered that first time. They were but babies wearing heavy coats and completely covered to protect them from the cold, Wanda had been walking side by side with you, her hand intertwined with yours looking around the town to see the Christmas Market already decorated and filled with decorations appropriate for the holidays. Every year decorations changed, and the Christmas Tree that decorated the main square was usually filled with crazy decorations that brough the attention of the children and everyone in general.

You wrapped your arms around Wanda, the brunette leaned back against your hold her lips curling into a content smile while Billy and Tommy grabbed the hands of Kate and Kamala. Everyone was enjoying the church choir, their voices filling the square with the smell of food and winter.

“Are you happy?” You whispered in her ear, Wanda tilted her head in a way that she could see into your eyes.

Her body relaxed into your embrace with a softening and a gleam you had come to associate with the state she was in. You smiled at her, and soon Wanda was kissing you slowly, the softness of her lips against yours danced for a while until the both of you broke.

“I never thought I would be happy again.” She whispered only for you to hear; you furrowed your brows but your wife eased out your thoughts. “And then you came into my life again and gave me the most beautiful gift ever. So yes, I am happy, Y/N, you are my happiness.”

You nuzzled your face on her hair, your arms tightening protectively around her frame.

“You are my happiness as well, Little Witch.” You pecked her cheek turning your attention to the twins, Tommy was looking back at you two furrowing his brows before turning his attention back to the chorus. “You have given me the most amazing gift anyone can give a person, my family.”

“My wife, such a romantic…” Wanda turned back to the choir clenching her jaw tightly holding her breath for a moment before easing in your arms to try and hide her sudden pain.

While you and Wanda were sitting in the back, America turned to Tommy who was grasping her hand rather tightly. She frowned seeing as the little boy was clenching his eyes close with a stressful expression crossing his young features.

“Tommy, are you alright?”

Billy perked up at the question, he turned worriedly to his brother grabbing his hand frowning at the obvious discomfort coming from his brother.

“Tommy?” Yelena put a hand on Billy’s shoulder to stop him from shaking his brother, Tommy had tears in his eyes lifting his head to America.

The young woman could see the distress behind his brown eyes, his face was contorting into a rictus of pain and confusion.

“Billy…” America started but soon the young boy turned around sharply lifting his hand.

“Mommy!” He exclaimed letting go of America’s hand and running towards Wanda.

The four young women and Billy followed Tommy’s actions, Kamala was the first one to react placing a hand on her mouth her eyes wide open when she realized Wanda was almost on the ground with red mist surrounding her body.

“Shit, what the hell…” America stood up and ran towards them while Kate held onto Billy before he could run towards his mothers.

“Wait, Billy, let’s go slowly…” Kate held onto Billy who was not really struggling against her hold.

Some of the onlookers had also realized that something had happened, many had tried to put their phones out while Kamala lifted a single protective wall around the woman. She and Kate exchanged looks making their way to Wanda.

You should have known that Wanda was not doing okay.

She had erupted into a fit of shivers, before exuding some of her magic and then falling with a hand on her stomach. Natasha was holding her from one side while you were holding the other one; Tommy came right away kneeling in front of Wanda.

“Mommy…” You glanced at your son then at America nodding at her, the young woman grabbed Tommy holding him in her arms.

“Mommy…is fine, baby.” Wanda said through gritted teeth, Tommy shook his head.

“Mommy, the baby…” Tommy started, your eyes open wide in terror when Wanda let out a scream holding her abdomen and crying.

The burst of energy coming from her was almost burning you, Natasha winced almost letting go of Wanda while locking her stare with yours.

“We need to go to a hospital, Love,” You started, Wanda grabbed your hand looking paled.

“Y/N…”

“Mommy!” Tommy struggled against the hold of America, watching with tears as his mom screamed again.

“Damn, I don’t think we can’t move her…” You hesitated lifting your hand, your eyes locked onto your son’s ones. “Tommy, can you help me?”

America put the boy on the ground and he came right towards Wanda, you smiled at him though it came more like a grimace. Tommy didn’t dare to touch Wanda, so he turned to you with big eyes.

“Baby, how is the baby? You can feel them?”

Tommy nodded looking half terrified, half powerless.

“Tommy, is mommy too weak?” You asked again, the boy glanced at Wanda then at you shaking his head.

“Baby, I need you to be strong, you will be with your big sister and your aunty and you and Billy will reach us in the hospital, okay?”

Before Tommy could protest Wanda screamed again, you twitched your hand in the air and the shadows consumed you, Wanda and Natasha. Tommy hugged America tightly, his tears were falling freely getting America’s cheeks and neck wet.

“Mommy.” The little boy whispered, America hugged him tightly lifting him in her arms, she turned to see Billy was now holding onto Kate.

“What the hell happened?” Yelena was as confused as the rest, America leaned back trying to make Tommy lift his eyes.

“Tommy, you know what happened?” America asked softly, the group was already making their way to the car.

“Mommy was sick. The baby was not feeling good.” Tommy mumbled, “she wanted out.”

America stopped death on her tracks, she glanced down at the boy furrowing her brows.

“She?” As far as America knew, you and Wanda had decided to keep the sex of the bay a secret.

No one knew about it, and thus so far all the colours in the room had been neutral colours, or those each one of the family favour. Tommy was crying softly, nodding.

“She is scared, she wants out.”

“You mean, the baby?” America asked once more, Tommy nodded.

“Is mommy okay?” Billy asked, the four women looked at one another then the continued their walk to the car.

“Yes, Billy, she is going to be okay, and your little sister as well.” America tossed the keys to Yelena who wasted not time to go into the car and start the engine.

The hospital was quiet, America and the others came rushing in until one nurse put a finger on her lips glaring at them. America was about to fight, when a hand on her shoulder distracted her. She turned to the source to see Kamala offering a softening stare, America huffed nodding walking towards the reception.

“Hello, good night,” she started in her most diplomatic tone, “I was looking for someone.”

“Of course, tell me…”

“America!” Natasha was coming right in, her pants had some blood on it and the older woman was looking tired.

“Natasha, what happened?”

“Where is Wanda?

“Where is Y/N?”

Natasha lifted a hand, she glanced at the receptionist then back at the women and the twins, she cocked her head signalling a waiting room at the other side of the hall.

Tommy and Billy were holding onto America and Kate respectively, America was comforting the boy in her arms while looking at Natasha waiting for her explanations.

“Well?”

“They are fine, right now they are in surgery.” Natasha explained, she lifted a calming hand to the sudden outburst of inquiries. “Wanda has been feeling the discomfort for quite some time, she didn’t say anything so Y/N or anyone would get scared and Christmas would be ruined.”

“That’s stupid! We wouldn’t care if the baby decides to come first! She could have told us and save us this heart attack.” Yelena crossed her arms looking away. “This is so stupid.”

Natasha let her hand rested on Yelena’s forearm, the young Widow huffed though she leaned closer to the touch. Tommy and Billy were holding hands, the came closer with their eyes filled with tears and their little faces showing the emotions going through them. There was a palpable tension in each and every single person in the hall, the sound of people coming in and out of the hospital alongside the voices of the staff were soon forgotten in favour to Natasha holding the twins.

Kamala grabbed America’s hand leaning against her frame, while Kate hooked her arm with Yelena’s one. The stood there for a moment, America berating herself for not being more attentive and letting those little discomforts pass instead of raised the alarm with Y/N and Natasha and Yelena.

“Is mommy okay?” Billy asked in a thin voice, he cuddled closer to Natasha who nodded briefly.

“Yes, Billy, she is fine.”

“Is her tummy hurting?” Tommy mumbled wiggling the fingers of his hand, “mummy was sad and her tummy was making pum pum pum and not bum bum bum like always.”

Natasha creased her brows at the explanation, she knew Tommy was the sensitive one and he was the one showing magical abilities that would be similar to those of Wanda. You had told her several stories in which the boy would be the first one to know exactly how others feel, and he was always ready to help. He had been the first one to sense something different in Wanda, and was always overprotective of his mother as soon as he found out he was going to be a big brother.

“Tommy, did you see something different about mommy?” Natasha finally asked leaning back, the little boy crossed stares with Billy before nodding.

“Mummy is always shinning,” here Tommy stretched his arms with big, brown eyes, “and she is warm, but…”

“She is gloomy and cold.” Billy ended having heard his brothers theory.

“Is mummy sick because of me?” Tommy’s eyes filled with tears, “I try to be good big brother, auntie Tasha, I swear.”

“Oh, baby no, you’re not to blame.” This time around Natasha hugged the twins tightly. “Mummy is just pregnant and these things can happen to anyone, you did so well protect mummy with Billy.”

“That’s right, Little dude, it’s just that your sibling wants to be born now, it is nothing else.” This time around it was Kate the one saying this, she knelt placing her hand on Tommy’s back.

“You guys are amazing, and right now that baby is going to be the luckiest one having such brave big brothers like the both of you.” Yelena continued placing her hand on Billy’s head.

The twins seemed to calm down under these words, both of them holding onto Kate and Yelena who decided to take them for a little walk to the hospital cafeteria. Natasha waited until they were far away before turning to America, the young woman had the same concern stare as the twins thought she was tyring to hide it behind a façade of faux bravery.

“How are they, really?”

Natasha sighed pointing to the closest chairs leading America and Kamala there.

“Wanda was in pain, her blood pressure dropped and by the time the doctor could do a quick checkup he decided the best option was for a c-section.”

“How is Y/N? Can we see them? What about the baby?” America was bouncing on the chair, her left leg was raising rapidly as she tapped the ground with her heel.

Kamala placed a soothing hand on her leg, leaning closer with her eyes on Natasha. America leaned into the touch dropping her eyes while taking a deep breath, Natasha saw as the young woman started taking deep breaths glancing at Kamala while offering a weak smile.

“Wanda is in surgery right now, they allowed Y/N to be there.” Natasha leaned back, she took a deep breath placing a hand on her eyes. “The doctor said this is normal, and that up until two weeks ago everything was just fine with the pregnancy, I guess having a powered child is really far too much sometimes.”

“Is she gonna be okay? What about the baby?” This time it was Kamala the one asking the questions, Natasha dropped her hand turning green eyes to the young woman.

“They are going to be fine, but we will have to wait.”

*****

 It was past midnight by the time you finally could sit down on the hospital chair.

Your arms were holding the small frame of your daughter, a beautiful baby girl that was fast asleep with a crunched-up nose and closed fists. You held the baby closer to your chest, tears in your eyes while Wanda slept; you had never be so scared before that moment. The fact that Wanda had hidden her pain, and then the news that the surgery could be a dangerous ordeal and probably stressful for both, the baby and Wanda, left you powerless to do anything at all.

It had taken less than a couple of hours for you to almost lose your baby and your wife.

Your heart shrank painfully inside your chest, the heavy void that settled in your abdomen was still tingling inside your body.

“You gave us quite the scare, baby girl.” You whispered poking the kid on her nose, softening the moment she wriggled her nose but kept sleeping in your arms.

There was a knock on the door, but before you could say anything at all the door opened and you could see your friends and family coming on. Your eyes lit up watching as Billy and Tommy came to you rubbing their eyes, their steps were tentative and their eyes were searching around until they found the bundle in your arms.

“Where’s mummy?” Tommy asked in a groggy voice, you glanced at Natasha then at Tommy and Billy.

“Mummy is still with the doctor, baby.” You leaned forward nodding to the twins. “You guys wanna meet your baby sister?”

The boys nodded eagerly coming closer to you, both of them leaned forward being careful in their movements. Their eyes went big, and soon their mouths drew a smile while glancing at you and the baby.

“She is too small!” Billy said with his hand twitching at his side.

“She is.”

“What’s her name?” Tommy asked cocking his head.

“Well, baby, since mummy and I didn’t want to name the baby until they were born, we haven’t decided.” You winced sheepishly lifting your face to the adults in the room. “I guess she would be Baby Girl Maximoff until I can talk to Wanda.”

America approached you, her eyes showing not only how tired she felt but the tears she had shared moments ago with Natasha under the stress of the night. You nodded at her lifting your arms, in a silent offer for the young woman to carry the baby. America didn’t waste any time running to another chair and getting ready to hold the baby.

“You guys didn’t choose a name? Really?” Yelena finally asked watching from afar, while she loved the twins and she had helped raised them, when they had been born she had been the last one to pick them up. They had been so small she was afraid of hurting them.

“Well, we did think about it, we just…” You trailed off letting out a heavy sigh, your hand went to the back of your head scratching softly. “I want to do it with Wanda.”

Natasha gave you a hug, whispering in your ear.

“How is she?”

“She was not doing fine, they took her to the ICU for observation. The baby, she was so healthy and so full of energy…” You hugged. “The doctor thinks is because of her particularity, we still haven’t figure it out and he said if we want he could sent some samples to Stark Industries for further investigation…”

“You want them to dig into it?” Natsha inquired but you shook your head.

“I know my babies are special, Tasha, not because of their powers but because they are ours.” You replied looking while the four women all dotted on the baby talking with Billy and Tommy while making fun of America and Yelena’s childish behaviour.

“I guess at some point we will need to find out if it is too much, but for now everything is just as it should have been…Wanda was just spending too much with the baby and since she didn’t say anything…”

“I know.” Natasha hesitated before grabbing your hand. “You can go, I watch over them and the baby.”

Your face broke into a grateful smile, you leaned in kissing Natsha on her cheek.

“Thank you.”

With one last glance to the baby and the twins, you turned around and left to make your way to the ICU.

This was the quietest place in the hospital.

There were cubicles big enough to hold a bed with the multiple machines necessary to keep a person alive. It smelt strongly to antiseptic mixed with blood, the nurse station was lone but you didn’t need anyone giving you directions, you knew exactly where you wanted to go.

Wanda was paled, with bags under her eyes and her hair sprawl on the pillow. She was fast asleep, tired after the ordeal he had suffered early in the evening. You approached the bed, your heart ripping away at the sight; when your hand grabbed hers your blood turned cold. She was freezing.

With fear gripping up your throat, you leaned in placing a kiss on your wife’s forehead.

“Hey, Little Witch, how are you doing?” You held back your sobs, brushing your lips on her forehead. “You were so brave today, love. Our baby girl is so strong, she is with our family and her big brothers right now. We all are waiting for you.”

You lifted her hand to your lips, placing a single kiss on her knuckles you rubbed the single hand in yours trying to share some of your body warmth through the massages. You wished there was something else you could do, that there was something else you could say but at the moment you were just lost.

Never before did you imagine you would see Wanda like this. Bringing over a chair to be as close to Wanda as you could, you placed another kiss on her hand smiling through your tears you started talking to your wife making sure she knew you were waiting for her.

Wanda felt her body stirred painfully.

She knew she should be worried about, though she was not completely sure what it was.

She opened her mouth trying to grasp the air while her eyes were struggling to be opened. There was something holding her hand, it was warm and comforting, she stirred once more and with some effort made herself open her eyes.

“Ugh…” She let out a moan closing her eyes before blinking away the blinding light of the lights above her head.

“Wanda!”

Wanda knew that voice, without thinking too much she opened her eyes and sure enough they you were. Whatever fear or uncertainty she felt moments ago, it disappeared as soon as she registered your voice and saw your frame through blurry glances.

“Y/N…” Her voice sounded rough, unused, and her heart jumped wildly in her chest when you placed a single kiss on her lips.

“My Little Witch, you’re awake.” There was some commotion she could catch with her ears, she wanted to talk and ask what had happened, but the drowsiness was overwhelming and soon she was falling into a pit of darkness.

The second time she woke up, the light of the day was filtering through the blinds. She opened her eyes slowly, first making sure she would not hurt herself or that her body was actually hers and no more side effects of a drug were affecting her senses. Once she had made herself conscious of her body, she went to remember what had happened.

Like a jolt of electricity her hand went to her abdomen and she went to sit up right away.

A pair of hands on her shoulders stopped her from doing a brusque movement, and it wasn’t until then that she saw your face bringing over a peacefulness she only allowed around you.

“Y/N.” This time around the name came dry, but it was clear.

“Hey, Little Witch.” You stood up bringing over a glass of water with a straw. “Here you can drink just a little to wet your mouth and throat.”

Wanda did that, her eyes moving frantically around the room.

“Y/N, the baby…”

She gauged your expression, and while there was sadness there Wanda could tell you were just relief. You grabbed her hand putting some strands of hair out of the way, leaning in to place a single kiss on her forehead.

“The baby is fine, America and the others are watching over her.”

“Her?” Wanda asked confusedly, you nodded and this time around you couldn’t hide your smile.

“We have a baby girl, my love.”

Wanda sighed in relief, she lifted her head and you understood her need right away. When your lips closed around hers your heart soared with relief and love for the woman you thought you had lost. You kissed Wanda with the emotions that had overwhelmed you in the last couple of days.

“What happened? Are you okay? The Twins?”

“Hey, it’s okay, I will tell you everything and it is going to be fine,” you stated raining kisses all over Wanda’s face, “you don’t know just how much I love you, and how happy you make me every day, Wanda.”

“Y/N, what is it? What happened?” This time around Wanda couldn’t hide the concern in her voice, your actions were making her worried but you just kept placing kisses on her while grabbing her hand in yours.

“Just…give me a moment, please? I need to know you are okay, that you are here.”

“I am here, love, I always will be.”

You smiled before wrapping your arms around Wanda allowing the tears to fall, the fears that had consumed you in the last couple of days finally dissipating under the embrace of your wife.

__________________________

New Years Eve came with a light snow, and the glimpses of a cold wintery sun above the sky.

Wanda sat by the window of the baby’s room.

She was sitting on the nursery glider feeding the baby while everyone got ready to welcome the new year. The last couple of days had been a total rush, with everything happening in the blink of an eye without giving time to anyone to process the events. Wanda had woken up in the hospital after being unconscious for a week, the doctor had been monitoring her case and they had made sure she had everything she needed it to improve her condition but, at the end of the day, everything seemed to be up to her to get along with the recovery.

When she finally woke up, she found herself scared for her baby and her family. He could see the devastating effect the situation had on you, the lack of sleep and the deep pain this caused in you was still visible from time to time in your eyes. It had taken some time, bit after a full check-up and two days under medical observation, Wanda was free to go home.

Christmas had already come and gone, and now she was just waiting to start a new chapter in her life with you and her family. Wanda softened her stare when her eyes fell upon the form of her baby girl. She had been a miracle child; a part of Wanda had already sensed just the power residing inside her. It was all consuming at first until it was finally getting into tune with Wanda’s powers and energy. A part of her had always brushed it off mainly because she thought it was supposed to be that way, but after the scared all of them suffered she realized she should have said something about it.

“You’re gonna be a troublemaker, I can see it now.” Wanda whispered poking the baby’s nose lightly, the little girl opened her eyes watching her with innocence before snuggling closer to her mother.

“I surely hope no, I can already see the kind of trouble she will bring when she starts dating.” You were leaning on the wall watching Wanda in silence, the young woman smiled at you.

“Are you thinking about that already? She is just a child!” Wanda giggled when you approached her, your lips had always been a source of comfort and tenderness, your kisses made her heart tingled and her soul soared with love.

“Our child.” You whispered without breaking the kiss, Wanda sighed leaning against you holding the baby tightly. “How are you?”

Wanda could tell the traces of concern shinning in your eyes, she lifted her hand to cup your cheek offering the most tender smile she could muster you with.

“I’m amazing, love, thank you for always worrying about me.”

You mirrored her smile placing a hand on top of hers, “I don’t know what I would do if you were not in my life, Wanda. After we found one another again, you and the children became my everything.”

“I know, love. You are my everything, you and our family.” Wanda lowered her gaze where the baby was fast asleep. “Elizabeth.”

“Uh?” You furrowed your brows turning to Wanda.

“Elizabeth.” She repeated glancing from you to the baby. “A couple of months ago you started talking about baby names, and this one got you so excited at that time.”

“It has a lot of history, you know?” You replied rather shyly, Wanda chuckled nodding. “It is a beautiful name, I just…you meant it?”

“Yeah, you like it?”

You blinked a couple of times before answering, “welcome to the family, Elizabeth Maximoff.”

The baby was still fast asleep, but Wanda felt her heart melting under your words. She could feel your love pouring right out to her and the baby, your lips bringing comfort before you lifted Elizabeth in your arms placing her on her crib. A flash of doubt passed through Wanda’s eyes, but you grabbed her hand putting her to you, your left hand on her hip and the right hand holding her left hand.

“She is going to be okay, I will watch over her with my shadows and we can go and see what you sons have been working on in the last couple of days.”

“Oh, God, Tommy and Billy,” Wanda exclaimed ready to leave but stopped when you held her back offering a comforting smile. “I forgot about them! I don’t think…”

“They are big brothers now, Little Witch, they understand what you have been doing lately.” You nuzzled your nose against hers. “We all understand. They are going to be out there waiting for you.”

Wanda slowed down her breathing closing her eyes while melting away in your arms.

“I don’t know what I did right to be back in your life, but I just…” Wanda had tears in her eyes, you chuckled kissing her eyes softly.

“A part of me knew you were my happiness, Wands. It took time, and heartbreak but…we are here, together.”

“Do you regret it?” Wanda asked out of the blue, you blinked a couple of times before shaking your head.

“I don’t regret a single thing in our past, Wands.” Wanda furrowed her brow ready to argue but you put a single finger on her lips. “I don’t. Whatever happened, however it happened, it brought us to where we are today, if it hadn’t been because of this you and I would have never found our paths again and would have never understood the importance of being who we are, of always being honest…of never give up.”

Wanda didn’t mean for the tears to start rolling down her cheeks, but it happened. You cupped her face in your hands, your eyes completely locked with hers.

“We got together at the right time, and we came back to each other when we were meant to. Now, we have a family, and a life full of love and adventures, a life away from the dangers of the world.”

“I thought you missed it, that perhaps…” Wanda sobbed hugging you tightly. “I love you.”

You chuckled hugging her back, your arms wrapping comfortingly around her. You knew about her fears, she had told you everything about them in her moments of weakness. You were always there listening to her and comforting her making sure she knew she deserved to be happy and that, whatever bad had happened in the past, shouldn’t be replicated it in her future.

“I love you too, Wanda. With all my heart. You and my family are all that matters to me now.”

“You are the very beat of my heart, Y/N. Thank you for giving me my family, thank you for being my family.”

You kissed her with all the love you held for her. Your lips moulding with hers, your hands mapping her form while putting her closer to your body; Wanda smiled into the kiss her arms wrapping tenderly around your shoulders. You pressed your forehead against hers, her eyes gleaming contentedly as they looked into yours.

“Are you planning on the fourth child, Mrs. Maximoff?” You asked earning a light-hearted laugh from Wanda, the woman winked at you breaking the contact while grabbing your hand and dragging you towards the door.

“Perhaps, are you ready for another one?” She asked coyly, you chuckled shaking your head.

“Oh, I am, though I was thinking we could…you know? Have some fun first.”

“Patience, my love, patience always pays, right?”

You grinned nodding, “it always does.”

______________________________________________________________

Author's Note: So, this is the end.

This story was everything to me, and it happened in a moment of my life in which I have to live a lot of things. I grew so much, and I really love the final turn it took. I hope you guys like it as much as I love writing it, and I will see you in the next adventure!

[ayumigotabittoolonely]

Is there someone else?

Pt 3(Gojo Satoru x reader fluff)

Pt 1

Is there someone else?

Satoru had waited.

Days bled into weeks, and though the world kept moving, his own felt like it had stopped the moment you walked away from that bench. He had gone through battles, missions, and meetings, but nothing compared to the war raging inside him the war of missing you.

You had asked for time, and he had given it. But every second without you felt like punishment, like the universe was making him pay for the pain he had caused.

And then, one evening, as he stood outside the school watching the sun dip below the horizon, his phone buzzed.

A message. From you.

“Can we talk?”

His heart nearly stopped.

He didn’t waste a second.

You were waiting for him at a small café the same one you had hidden in that night, when your heart had been too heavy to carry alone.

The bell above the door chimed as Satoru walked in, his usual confidence muted, his hands stuffed into his pockets as if that could stop them from shaking.

When his eyes met yours, something in his chest cracked open. He had missed you. God, he had missed you.

You gestured for him to sit, and he did, cautiously, as if afraid one wrong move would shatter whatever fragile thing was holding this moment together.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The café buzzed with quiet life around you, the clinking of cups and muffled laughter a stark contrast to the storm of emotions between you.

Finally, you broke the silence. “I needed time to think.”

Satoru nodded, gripping the edge of the table. “And?”

You sighed, looking down at your hands before meeting his gaze. “And I realized that I still love you.”

His breath hitched.

“But,” you continued, “loving you doesn’t mean I forgot what happened. It doesn’t mean I wasn’t hurt.”

He swallowed hard. “I know. And I won’t ask you to forget. I just-” He exhaled, shaking his head. “I just want the chance to prove that I can be better. That I want to be better.”

You studied him for a long moment. His usual mask of arrogance was gone. In its place was something real, something raw.

“I don’t need perfect, Satoru,” you said softly. “I just need you. But I need all of you not the half that’s too scared to let me in.”

His fingers twitched against the table before, slowly, hesitantly, he reached across the small space between you.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t pull away.

Your hands met in the middle, fingers tangling together, warm and familiar. His grip was gentle, as if he was afraid you’d disappear if he held on too tight.

“I’ll give you everything,” he promised, voice thick with emotion. “No more running. No more distance. Just us.”

You squeezed his hand, a small smile playing at your lips. “Then let’s try again.”

And for the first time in weeks, Satoru breathed.

Not because he had won some impossible fight, not because he was the strongest, but because you were here, choosing him despite it all.

Because love, real love, wasn’t about winning or losing.

It was about holding on, even when it hurt.

And this time, he wouldn’t let go.

@a-s-illustrations

[fatuismooches]

fabulam diu oblitus - first interlude.

synopsis: The tale of the raven and the sparrow has long been forgotten by most, but some will always remember.

includes: dottore w/ gn! reader

notes: This is the second part of a multi-chaptered Dottore fic, please read the prelude before reading this one. Your and Dottore's life continues to be told via a fairy tale crafted by the one and only Dendro Archon. Mostly fluff this chapter but the last two will not be so nice. Obligatory @kaixserzz mention and all my anons who inspired me to write this! (🎐 anon <3)

prelude. first interlude. second interlude. postlude. sequel.

“But one day, a miracle happened. The bird woke up from their eternal rest, utterly confused and lost.”

When you woke up, everything was hazy. Your eyes were open, but you couldn’t see anything. Rather, you could not process what you were seeing. It was a strange state. Everything felt fuzzy… but then the light from above glared suddenly right into your eyes, and you instinctively moved your hand to block the blinding light.

You were wide awake now, blinking your eyes and rubbing them. And though you had just woken up from a good nap, you quickly realized nothing made sense. Everything was eerily quiet, to the point where you could hear a pin drop. The grand and expensive room, the large plush bed. This wasn’t the hospital! And it looked absolutely nothing like the Akademiya either, not even the architecture! When you moved to stretch your arms, that’s when the biggest discovery finally hit you. 

Attached to your arms was an alarming amount of wires, hooked up to machines and whatnot.

Okay… now you had gone from mildly confused to kind of scared. You weren’t dead, right? Nope, pinching yourself still hurts. And- ouch, the random sharp pains you suddenly got in parts of your body were most definitely real. And these clothes, they weren’t yours, but they looked like something you’d wear. But… why were you like this? And more importantly, where was Zandik? You remember your beloved quite clearly… you were waiting for him to visit you again… hmm. And for some reason, you felt… a lot better than what you remembered? You felt super tired in that hospital, but now, you think you got a bit better. That was weird. But anyway, you had bigger issues. It was even weirder how you were no longer in that drab, busy hospital.

There was no other option than to go find Zandik and learn where you were. However, you had to get rid of these wires first. Without putting too much thought into it, you pulled one off your arm.

Horrible idea.

Before you could even blink, a loud alarm suddenly started blaring inside the room, scaring the shit out of you. What the hell? As any frenzied person would do, you began to pull off even more wires from your arm rapidly before finally all of them were off. The alarm merely kept going off which was obviously quite disturbing to you. Were people going to burst through the door at any moment and incapacitate you again? Wait, were you kidnapped? Oh, you just wanted Zandik to be with you right now, you thought as you pulled the heavy blankets off your body. Surely he’d know what to do. And then the door to the room slammed open, immediately beckoning your attention as you snapped your neck to see who it was. 

And lo and behold, it was Zandik. 

Your Zandik, draped in the Akademiya’s robes. Those red eyes and blue hair that you loved. Suddenly you could forget about your current abnormal situation and block out the noise, solely focused on your heart positively soaring as you gazed upon your love. 

But you quickly realized that he did not share the same expression. Not in the slightest. Rather, Zandik was looking at you with surprise, shock, astonishment, whatever you wanted to call it. It made you feel wholly uneasy. Why was your love looking at you as if you were from another universe? Like you had come back from the dead? Before you could question him, another person barreled in through the door. Another mop of blue hair. Another pair of red eyes. Another Zandik. 

Your heart stopped for a moment. 

Who were these people, and what have they done with your Zandik?

It only got worse when yet another Zandik look-alive entered. Only this time he was wearing bloodied clothing and gloves. You were too shocked to scream, and now all the other blue-haired people were panicking at your fearful expression and began fighting amongst themselves.

“Why would you come in looking like that?!”

“How was I supposed to know they had woken up?! It’s been centuries, I thought a wire detached by accident or something!” The one with the bloody coat and pink bow tie snapped back. The bickering continued but that was the least of your worries right now. You glanced around the room, trying to see if there was another escape route.

The windows. Yes, they would have to work. You didn’t know what floor you were on, but you’d have to take a gamble. You inched towards the end of the bed and swung your legs off the edge, hoping to bolt to it quickly. You placed one foot on the ground, putting all your force into it to sprint and-

Instead, your legs buckled and you fell pathetically to the floor, squeaking in a mixture of pain and surprise. You tried to heave yourself up with your arms, but your legs felt too weak. It was as if your legs wouldn’t, or perhaps couldn’t listen to your demands. You wiggled them around a bit, but it seemed as if they didn’t have enough strength to stand up on their own. You didn’t understand. Even though you were quite sick before, you could still walk a bit. This, however, was an unfamiliar sensation that filled you with dread. And now the Zandik clones’ attention was back on you.

“Oh fuck,” one of them mumbled, running his hands through his hair. You gulped, but they seemed reluctant to come near you judging from their nervous expressions. Well, you were going to take advantage of that, so you continued crawling toward the window. “Go get Prime. Now,” he hissed. A clone rushed out of the room but that was the least of your concerns. It was slightly humiliating to be watched as you crawled, but you persevered anyway. Thankfully, there was a table near the window, so you could use it to pull yourself up without using your legs too much. How were you going to escape with virtually no legs? Well, that was future [Name]’s problem. 

The clones, on the other hand, seemed incredibly antsy about your hand on the curtain, ready to pull it away. It seemed as if they were trying to speak but didn’t know how. But without any more delay, you yanked the curtain to the side to reveal…

A completely white background. Snow that certainly was more than knee deep, that clung to the windows and weighed the trees down. You had never seen anything like it before. The mere sight of it made you dizzy and a nauseating feeling came over you as you stumbled back and landed on the floor again. Wherever you were, it was not Sumeru. And even if you could escape, you would certainly freeze to death in a few seconds. The reality of the situation made your skin crawl and overheat. You looked back at the fake Zandiks and noticed they were a bit closer than before. Your rapidly beating heart was not a good combination for the major headache that was beginning to grow. 

“Don’t… don’t come near me,” your lightheadedness made the words come out more of a mumble than a command, your throat now dry and clogged. Not being able to defend yourself was a horrible feeling. Through your blurry eyes, you think the clones felt sorry for you… which really made you feel worse, to be honest, actually to the point of feeling like you were going to pass out from all of this stress and pain.

… And you did pass out. But not before a pair of hands caught you before your head hit the floor.

—

“Meanwhile, the raven could not contain his excitement. Finally, after four hundred years spent alone, his beloved was back. Despite all of the power and knowledge he basked in, he was admittedly… lonely without them. If the raven had never met them, he would have been fine. But the sparrow had relentlessly pecked a hole into his formerly impenetrable heart, one that they vowed to fill for eternity as an apology. But… they were not here to fill it for so long, creating an indescribable void in him.”

When one of his segments burst into his office without even knocking, Dottore was initially irritated. He did not like to be disturbed, especially in the middle of his own personal research. But 02 only had to say one word for his attitude to flip dramatically. Your name. He didn’t even wait for the clone to finish his sentence before he quickly made his way to your room, multiple possibilities running through his mind as to what could have happened. Surely it wasn’t possible for your condition to get even worse, right? He gritted his teeth and increased his pace until he saw the crowd at the door of your room. He didn’t bother questioning any of them as he stepped into the room, expecting to see your body still lying on the bed. But it was empty… because you were awake, wide-eyed, and a bit terrified, but awake nonetheless.

Even the wise doctor couldn’t help but be frozen in shock. Four hundred years of emptiness, of silence, of nothingness. A stagnant eternity had passed in front of his eyes. You had remained ever so still for so long, but now you finally were moving and speaking in front of him.

Would he call this a miracle? No, he would not because the scientist did not believe in miracles. He didn’t believe in anything that the Gods supposedly granted. He knew you would wake up, it was just a matter of when, and however long that was, he would wait. Contrary to what many people thought, Dottore could be a patient man. Perhaps it was because all of the people in the Fatui were witnesses to his short fuses and a low tolerance for inability, but he could be extremely patient with the proper circumstances. Now, all his waiting had finally paid off, Dottore thought as he caught you in his arms. Indeed… everything had finally paid off.

Dottore wondered how you would react when you woke up again. How much would you remember? Would you recognize him? He already had a multitude of notes and plans written for when you woke up, but it would depend all on you. You, you, you… yes, he would go to astonishingly and morally dubious lengths just for you.

—

“The butterfly had come to realize that their beloved raven had changed while they were sleeping. The raven had draped himself in fox fur, no longer the same from hundreds of years ago. The butterfly was not too bothered, as they were changed too, but they could not help but feel that they were left behind.”

When you woke up once again, the ceiling looked different and the bed you were in was much more plain and stiff than the previous one, as if no one used it. Though the out-of-place blanket and pillows looked as if someone threw them in out of consideration for you. You raised your hand to your temple and gently rubbed it. Somehow, your oncoming headache was gone, which was good. You began to observe the room. This one was a stark difference from the other one. It was mostly plain and boring, and much smaller. It literally only had this bed and a desk which was crowded with piles upon piles of paperwork, and you could faintly make out the writing. It was hard to read and bore a resemblance to… Zandik. Instantly your curiosity was piqued.

You don’t know what happened during the time you fainted, but somehow your legs seem to have gotten a bit stronger. In fact, there seemed to be a new bandage on your leg. Did someone inject you with something while you were sleeping…? You swallowed the unease before you hobbled over and quickly took a seat on the chair, eyes sweeping over the multitude of papers. You began reading the one on top.

“Experiment 23 has failed me once again with their utter uselessness. No matter how many times I modify the drug, their body keeps rejecting it leaving me only with a mess to clean up. What a pathetic waste of my time.” Alright, that was… something. You pushed that one to the side and began reading through more, but they were mainly the same gist. “Subject 14 died today. I must tell one of the segments to take care of it. Perhaps we can still get some use out of the body… A test subject attempted escape today. That was the first one in a while, but it was handled quickly.” More experimentation on different subjects, all labeled with a different number. It was no doubt horrifying but… oddly interesting to you. But one thing that stuck out to you was the name signed at the bottom.

Il Dottore. Il Dottore? What kind of name was that? You kept flipping through the papers, many falling to the floor when you noticed the desk also had some drawers. Pulling them open, there were a few notebooks inside. But that’s not what bothered you. It was the fact that each of them had one word on the cover.

Your name.

This day could not get any creepier. The theory of you getting kidnapped by some crazy person was starting to seem a lot more plausible. Though you hesitated at first, you just had to know what was inside, picking up the notebook on top. You flipped open to the first page. It had nothing but the same few words repeated over and over, divided by lines as the day changed. “No changes in [Name]’s condition.” Alright then… strange. Your eyes flicked over to the date written at the corner of the entry. Month, day, year, yes…

Wait. That year. Your eyes nearly popped out when you looked at it, for it simply could not be true. Because it was… extremely far into the future. A horrible feeling sank into you as you began rapidly turning the pages. Maybe it was just a mistake, you begged no one but yourself, but it was the same over and over again. And that’s when you got to the page that made you dizzy. “Today marks four hundred years since [Name] fell asleep.” The sheer shock of that sentence could have made you faint again. 

Gulping, you grabbed the next notebook in the pile. The dates of these were before those of the first one. Yet again, one of the pages stated, “Today marks three hundred years since [Name] fell asleep.” And then the next notebook said, “Today marks two hundred years since [Name] fell asleep.” The last journal in the pile ended with, “Today marks one hundred years since [Name] fell asleep.”

In that one, the first page started with, “Today marks the first day since [Name] fell asleep.” The date on this page was very familiar to you. It was the year when you got sick. Trying to calm your unsteady breaths, you read the writing.

“I would have never thought things would have turned out like this. This possibility is one that I never thought of. That was completely foolish of me. I should have been more practical, more realistic. If I had planned for and acknowledged the possibility, perhaps I would have been able to prevent it. But it is too late now. I will write here every day to keep track of [Name]’s condition. If all goes accordingly, they will wake up in due time.”

You placed down the book and put your face in your hands, contemplating what you just read. So… if you were understanding this correctly… you’ve been stuck in a coma for over four hundred years, only now waking up. And this person, it had to be Zandik. He was the only one who would do all of this for you. But that didn’t explain why there were multiple copies of him running around… Oh… but the fact you were asleep for four hundred years… was that even possible? Was this real? A wave of fatigue at this information rolled through you again.

Not only did you miss over four hundred years of life… that meant you weren’t exactly human, were you? Or perhaps you were and you simply had your lifespan increased? So, so many questions. What happened to Zandik during this time? What happened to you? Were you even okay? How had your body survived such a thing? You felt like crying. How could this happen to you… you were about to actually start weeping when the door opened, giving you a start.

Another Zandik - or perhaps this was Il Dottore - stood at the entrance, hand frozen on the doorknob as he looked straight at you. You instinctively backed into the chair. You couldn’t help but still be uneasy after everything you just went through.

“[Name],” your name spilled out of his lips almost unconsciously, his face still expressionless, but that quickly changed as he broke out into a large, pointy smile. “[Name],” he said again, though much louder this time before locking the door behind him. “[Name]... you’re truly awake.” The way he reveled in your name seemed almost mad and obsessed. The man then noticed the disarray of his desk and grinned even further, striding up to you.

“Ah, ever the inquisitive one, are you? Seems like your curiosity has not changed. And you can still read my notes… good, good. Better than what I expected.” Zandik’s(?) voice only grew more delighted. You remained silent, to which he looked slightly disappointed, but he seemed to have expected this reaction as well. He bent down on one knee, placing one hand on his chest while the other intertwined with your own hand. He didn’t externally show how he felt when he did so, the sheer excitement he felt when your hand was no longer deathly cold, instead some warmth running through it now.

“Do not look like that, [Name]. You know who I am, do you not?” The scholar looked up at you expectantly, the pleased smile never leaving his lips. His touch, though it was through gloves, was so familiar. The voice, that was deeper than how you remembered it, made you feel a certain way. Your free hand reached out to his face, fingers tracing the mask he wore. Slowly, you began to remove it to see if he would object, but he did not even flinch. When you looked at his uncovered face, you just knew deep down it was Zandik. It was your Zandik who belonged to you. Though his face now had scars, it was him. Your beloved. You brushed your fingers against the scarred skin, and this time he nuzzled into your touch as if you were some kind of divine being.

“Zandik… Oh Zandik,” you murmured, staring right into his brilliant red eyes. “It’s you, isn’t it?” Zandik moved your hands closer to his lips, before biting down on your fingers with those sharp teeth of his.

“Indeed I am, dearest, but these days they tend to call me The Doctor.”

After that, you wouldn’t let go of Zandik, or rather, Dottore, as he came to explain. He answered your barrage of questions, one by one, which only blew your mind each time. After you fell into a coma, he was recruited by the Fatui. With their funding and support, he was able to keep you stable and also advance his own research, even reaching the high position of the Second Harbinger. Il Dottore, The Doctor to be exact. And those other people you saw, those were his segments. Segments from different periods of his life that he made… You were stunned by those accomplishments.

For hundreds of years, this went on as you remained stagnant… until now. Now, everything had changed, and Dottore was entirely fascinated with you. He ran countless tests, poked and prodded at all parts of your body, all while dumping so many things on you rapidly and excitedly. A recollection of all the things that had happened during your slumber. There were a good amount of words that you didn’t understand too… the language of Teyvat had surely changed a lot. It was quite reminiscent of the old days when he would keep you awake in the dorm with his rambling, but this felt oddly… different.

Dottore was a completely different person from the Zandik you knew. Though the old Zandik wasn’t a good person, Dottore was… different. Very different. There was no boundary he wouldn’t cross for his research, ignoring the laws of Teyvat and life itself. And he was wearing a fucking harness too… but… he did look quite attractive in it so… it was an upgrade for you. Though what really happened while you were asleep? He was different, so so different - powerful and intelligent enough to rival even the Gods, among numerous other feats. It felt like he was a completely different person.

Meanwhile, you felt as though you were stuck as that useless, weak student whose purpose was dwindling by the day. And that wasn’t really a lie to be honest, as you soon learned you still were quite ill. You had only woken up from a coma. You weren’t cured. Your body was still frail and fragile, needing medicine and lots of rest otherwise there would be consequences. And your legs, they were able to get a little bit better from the shot Dottore gave you that worked since you were no longer unconscious, but you still wobbled a lot. You still had a lot of pains in general from this mysterious illness as well. So all in all… conscious and alive, but not very well. But, you were still grateful. You had over four hundred years worth of life you missed out on… you wanted to catch up desperately.

Of course, there was also the number one desire to spend countless hours with Dottore now. And you had to get used to his new personality… No longer was he the snarky, snappy, and irritable boy you once knew. Now he was effortlessly cunning and charming, so above others as their opinions could not mean anything to one akin to a God. And while he had always been possessive, Dottore seemed to ramp it up out of nowhere. In a way, you understood, because if you had to be consciously separated from Dottore for that amount of time, you would have gone crazy a long time ago. 

You were possessive too, but Dottore somehow was much more comfortable with physical and verbal affection than his old self from over four hundred years ago. You remember you’d have to beg and plead to merely sit on his lap before, but on the first day you awoke, he hoisted you there and refused to let you leave. He nipped at your ear and sensitive spots teasingly with no hint of embarrassment, all within a few hours after you woke up as if he couldn’t wait another moment. His hands were so big and they seemed to know every part of your body, he seemed to know exactly what to say to push your buttons now, all so different from when the positions were reversed a while ago… Of course, you still knew him quite well too, but still, you felt as though maybe he was partially a stranger now… Only time would tell you how much he had changed. You just hoped you were still good enough for him.

—

“Over time, the raven had divided himself into numerous others, each with a unique personality. The butterfly was initially scared by these new creatures, but eventually, they warmed up to the new ravens.”

It had been only a few weeks since you’d woken up, and although Dottore presented you with your own grand room in the lab, you hadn’t touched it much. Who could blame you? You were still jittery and nervous about all the new things in this world, and how to adapt to your new life. So he had gotten used to you crashing on his bed now every day. No, he wasn’t upset in the slightest. After all, he still had a lot to talk to you about. It would probably take a few centuries to tell you every little thing that happened during the last few centuries.

Dottore had shown you so many new wonders of Teyvat, things that could have never existed centuries ago, in all subjects and areas. It made you feel a bit scared and almost disheartened to know the world changed so much in your absence. But… there were some people in the lab to help you.

Dottore’s segments. 

You had learned that the numbers went up to 24, but there weren’t actually 24 segments. They were numbered in the order of creation, and not all of Zandik’s created segments were successes so it jumped around at times. For example, there were no 11, 12, 17, and so on. Even with all of Dottore’s expertise in making clones, he didn’t guarantee success. And yes… their names were merely numbers.

Although the segments hadn’t hurt you in any way, you were still a bit… scared. Hearing that your lover now had copies of himself running about was one thing. Accepting it was another thing, and you tried to cling to your Zandik as much as possible. But the clones were always scattered throughout the laboratory, so you usually ended up bumping into them. Or perhaps they were following you on Dottore’s orders. He probably thought it wasn’t safe for you ever to be alone, especially right now. But you were trying your best to warm up to them, because, after all, they were still Zandik, no? Their love for you stemmed from Zandik’s overwhelming love for you. They were really a testament to how much you were cherished. And so, they were obviously worthy of your love and attention. 

01 was the spitting image of Zandik when he was in the Akademiya. The last person you’d seen before you fell into a long sleep. Every time you looked at him, your heart hurt a little bit. He still had that snark you remembered so well, especially towards other people. And he still had that subtle softness afforded only to you, that you also remembered.

The bloody one who gave you a fright was 02. He had a pink bow tie and also donned a suit. You honestly weren’t sure what kind of phase Zandik went through during that stage of life to dress and act so drastically differently compared to his other clothes but it was… cute. You liked 02. He was a stark difference from the composed nature of the other clones, but you liked his laugh. Whenever you responded favorably to one of his long tangents, he sometimes hee-hee-ho-ho-ed loudly. 02 was also the most likely to bite you unprompted.

You had yet to meet 10, which was surprising because all the other segments were jumping at the opportunity to merely be in the same room as you. All Dottore had said was that he “needed some time” before he decided to speak to you. You weren’t sure what that meant, but you didn’t question it further. There were other segments as well, like 04. He was a serious and stern segment. The others were especially cautious around him. You were too, seeing his demeanor, but thankfully, he seemed to cool down around you. And 18 had a noticeably softer tone than the other segments and longer hair that embroidered his face nicely. He was also the one who seemed to smile a lot. This segment would always wave hi to you as well, funnily enough.

Meanwhile, 24 seemed to be the strongest of the segments and the highest-ranking one. The others didn’t seem to like him very much, but in the end, they always had to listen to him. He also seemed to be the boldest, and the most greedy. You distinctly remember your first meeting with him. It was something alright.

24 had raised your hand to his lips and kissed it, the smile on his face never leaving. “I have been waiting a long time to finally meet you, [Name].” Your words almost got stuck in your throat from the blatant display of affection. None of the other clones were ever so daring, instead settling with awkward conversation and fleeting glances of longingness at you. 

“Oh… well, it’s nice to meet you…?” You waited for his name.

“Twenty-Four.”

“Ah. Nice to meet you then, Twenty-Four.”

“No, the pleasure is all mine,” he hummed before releasing your hand. “If you ever need something, by all means, feel free to tell me. I shall see it done, far more efficiently than anyone else.” You ignored the subtle remark thrown at his other fellow segments.

“Thanks, Twenty-Four,” you smiled slightly, not sure what else to say after that.

“Of course. I do look forward to our further conversations, [Name]. I imagine they will be quite enlightening,” his deep voice chuckled as he walked away. Well… that was certainly something. You swallowed your throat that had gone dry, still feeling a bit fuzzy from that kiss. His lips felt soft against your hand.

Well, regardless of how you felt about the segments, you had to warm up quickly as they were starting to be with you for almost every task. Though Dottore had solely administered your medicine at first, you learned that his Fatui work kept him far more busy than you anticipated… he really was different now, huh? No longer the student you could bother all day. 

So instead, the clones had begun to share the responsibility of taking care of you, whether that be medicine, shots, check-ups, general tasks, or anything really. Nothing was off the table, considering how much you still struggled sometimes. You felt awkward at first, asking them for help, seeing as you felt embarrassed asking people who you didn’t know well, but they always seemed pleased to do it. Especially if you asked them specifically rather than another clone. So it would only be fair if you returned the energy to them.

You began with conversation. They reciprocated. You moved on to small touches. They liked that. You decided to give them each a kiss on the cheek. You probably should have thought some more about how that would affect them because there was no going back after that. Once you had shown so much interest, there was no way they weren’t going to take you up on your offer. Let’s just say it never ends with just one kiss. It ends with too much to count. So… nowadays it wasn’t unusual to find yourself on the operating table after a check-up, a segment on each side of you fighting over your attention. Perhaps one arm wrapped around your waist and another resting on your thigh… yes, very normal.

However, dealing with your health concerns wasn’t the only purpose of your beloved segments. They also had to teach you other things. 01 was on academics, as you would assume, him being the Akademiya clone and all. Well, it was less academics and more like relearning how to write properly and Teyvat’s new language. It was really hard, to be honest, to have your brain try and keep up with the sudden onslaught of new information, and for you to steady your hand from shaking so much, but surprisingly enough, 01 didn’t lose patience as quickly as you thought he would. You thought he would, considering how snappy you remember Zandik being in the Akademiya. 01 noticed your curious stare.

“What?”

“Nothing… I was just wondering why you haven’t said anything remotely snarky yet,” you hummed, leaning into the segment with squinted eyes. He rolled his eyes.

“You act as though you want me to yell.”

“Well…” you giggled at his incredulous expression before quickly retracting your statement. It was fun to tease him. And you already had a suspicion as to why he was so patient with you. That was… nice of him.

And 02… well, you weren’t exactly sure what 02 was supposed to be teaching you. He would just… talk a lot, about many different things, pace around the room as he did so, long coat fluttering after him, periodically fixing his bow tie. At the very least, he was quite knowledgeable and had experience journeying in other nations. Yes, that was what intrigued you the most out of all his rants. Especially when he spoke of his exploits in Mondstadt.

“You’re saying… you slayed a dragon? Like, killed it? It’s dead? All by yourself?”

“Indeed, I did. Though it’s a shame that-” Before 02 could finish his sentence, you could not help but jump up and clasp his hands in yours, beaming with excitement. Because really, how could you not be ecstatic at something like that? If one of Dottore’s clones could use such strength easily, it only further boggled your mind as to how strong Prime was.

“That is so, so, so amazing! I had no idea you were so strong!” Your eagerness to hear more was easily noticeable in your tone of voice. 02’s expression went blank for a few seconds, seemingly processing the sudden physical contact and how close you were to him, along with your words, before erupting into loud laughter, his very pointed teeth gleaming in the light. It suddenly occurred to the segment that this would be a perfect opportunity to unabashedly display his brilliance to you.

“Hahaha, if that story pleases you so, then you’ll be far more interested in what I have to say next. That was nothing really, hehe,” 02’s razor-sharp grin did not leave his face, nor did his hands release yours. Let’s just say 02 has a lot of tales to tell. Some were… not for the faint of heart, but you still loved them!

Though, all of the segments’ general duty was to help you regain what you’ve lost. Even the simplest things were not easy anymore. You had to come to terms that your stamina wasn’t the same. Yes, you even had to practice learning how to eat and cut up your food again. Your tongue had to adjust to the flavors of cuisine all over again. Deal with the suddenness of feeling very cold to suddenly hot. Shaking fingers and hands. You had to understand that you had stricter limits now, no longer being able to run or do certain tasks that would overexert yourself. Or sometimes you simply didn’t have the mental energy. Bathing, changing clothes, brushing your hair. Resolving yourself to get out of bed when you knew nothing you could do would amount to anything special. But… the segments helped you with everything. Every morning. Every night. And you were thankful for that.

So, all in all, your relationship with the clones was going pretty great! It's not like it couldn’t, considering how much they all adored you, to be honest. Yet, you still had not met the segment named 10. At first, it didn’t really cross your mind, but the more time you spent with the clones, the more you pondered about who the mysterious segment could be. When you asked 01, you were met with a scoff and eye roll. Hmm… guess they weren’t really a fan of him. However, your curiosities would be remedied soon enough, for there was a quiet knock on your room door a while later. 

It was so quiet as if the person was unsure about whether they wanted to knock or not. Was it one of the segments, trying to slack off work again to talk to you? You quickly opened the door and were met with… nobody. You furrowed your eyebrows before a timid voice sounded from below. 

You tilted your head down and there he was, a young child with blue hair and red eyes… that was startlingly similar to some people you knew… Then, everything seemed to click, and you instinctively knew who this mysterious child could be. It was 10. The one segment you hadn’t seen yet, the one Dottore told you not to worry about. Well, he was here now, but… that meant 10 was a clone of Zandik from when he was a child.

You were, quite frankly, shocked, because never did it cross your mind that Dottore would ever clone his child self. You couldn’t think of exactly what purpose that would serve, considering how the kid couldn’t do the same tasks his adult versions could. His perspective, perhaps? But you knew what happened to Dottore during his childhood. You clearly remember the night in the Akademiya when you told you. He didn’t want your pity, your sympathy, he spat. Despite his protests and attempts to push you away, his words were smothered when you held him close to your chest that night.

But nevertheless, it was time to put those feelings away for you must put your attention on the child in front of you, who was now fiddling with his clothes and fingers in silence. His eyes flicked back to you and the ground, his mouth opening to speak but closing it again before any words could escape, so you spoke first, crouching down to his height.

“Hello, little one. You must be Ten, am I right?” The boy perked up at the mention of his name.

“You know me?”

“Of course I do,” you smiled. “I’ve been eagerly waiting to meet you.” Those few words made 10’s face light up. It seemed like he enjoyed attention. But he still looked nervous. Based on what you knew, you guessed that he’d been hurt by adults and people in general far too much than he should have been, so he was wary about you for a while despite Dottore’s and the older segments’ adoration for you. Of course, you wanted to help him feel safe and reassured around you. And that would only happen by spending time with him.

“Would you like to come in? I have snacks we can share!” You gestured to the inside of your room, and the child looked intrigued, but still on the verge of indecision. “... And I can also read cool stories for you!” That was something kids liked, right? Well, it looked like you guessed right because 10’s whole expression changed as he nodded and suddenly invited himself into your room. It seemed like 10 wanted to trust you badly… and trust you he did.

10 was absolutely precious, more than words could describe. During the first few days, he was quiet, preferring to listen to you read the books he brought you. Sometimes you caught him looking at you, perhaps studying you. But once you continuously showed him kindness and love, the child transformed into a brand new person. He was glued to your side, and all the segments knew about it too. 10 always wanted to be near you. 10 liked the other segments, he really did, but you were the only one who was so nice to him. Ruffling his hair whenever he learned something new. Always indulging his silly little requests, drawing and coloring with him. Showing you his favorite hiding places around the lab. You were sad you couldn’t carry little 10 in your arms, but holding his hand as you two walked together was more than enough.

There was just something about 10 that was so endearing, that felt like he was healing your soul, even just a little bit. He was also extremely openly worried about you, scared that you would get winded over the simplest things. Which was a valid concern, but you reassured him you were stronger than it. It was quite sweet to see him run in front of you to open the doors for you like a gentleman, however. You also learned not to underestimate him, because 10 could truly give some of the most crushing hugs ever. In a loving way, of course. If only you didn’t need the ability to breathe, you’d let him hug you like that whenever. In other words, 10 was your baby.

But, in a way, it was strange to know that Dottore was once a child as simple as they come, although with his own eccentricities and curiosities. A child who did child things before he was deemed a monster. A child who just wanted to be held and reassured.

Regardless, lately, you've been thinking about something. Thinking about the segments’ names, to be exact. You really did love them, and so now you were starting to have an issue with calling them random numbers. They were clones, but they were still people to you… their identity was more than a number! Especially 10. You really did not want to refer to the sweet child as 10.

This had been resting on your mind for a few days and the segments noticed your contemplative expression. It was one of those days where you would just sit in the lab and watch them as they scurried about, doing their duties. It was interesting to watch. But you were caught in a daze more than normal when a voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Do tell me [Name], you seem to be in deep thought lately. What plagues your mind so?” It was 24, his deep voice resonating in your ears. It was then you realized all the other segments’ attention was on you too. Oops. Perhaps you were daydreaming too much.

“Oh… it’s nothing really,” you wondered if they would think your idea was stupid. After all, they didn’t seem to really care about being called a number.

“Nonsense,” 24 shook his head. “Speak your mind.” Well, here you go.

“How do you all feel about your name?” You asked, addressing the other segments as well. “About being called a number, I mean.” The segments looked at you a little strangely.

“I don’t really care,” one of them spoke.

“I care,” another huffed. “Why does Prime get to be called Prime while we’re nameless?”

“That’s a stupid question. It’s because he’s the creator, and we’re merely the segments.”

“It is annoying when someone mixes up our numbers and then something gets messed up with the operations. But nothing major.”

“Why do you ask, [Name]?”

“Well… I was thinking of not calling you guys numbers anymore. I just don’t like how it sounds, considering how much I know you all now, you know? I was just wondering if maybe I could give you all real names instead. But if everyone likes it the way it is now then that’s fine too.” When you finished speaking, the lab was uncharacteristically silent.

“Um… hello?” You chuckled awkwardly as you looked around to find the clones with blank looks on their faces before they all started speaking the same thing at once.

“I want the name.”

“I would like one as well.”

“Me too, dear [Name].”

“To think you would be the one to bestow me with a proper name. How fitting,” 24 smirked. Shit, even he was on board with this.

“Huh? Didn’t you all just say you didn’t care too much about it??” You could have laughed at the dramatic switch-up.

“I’ve changed my mind. Being called a number is actually quite a hindrance.” (That was mostly a lie, this segment didn’t want to admit he just wanted to own something that was given by you, and what bigger honor could be given by a name?)

“Indeed, having a real name would surely be beneficial for many reasons.” (The many reasons being that he could be happy that you gave him a new part of his identity.)

And now, all of a sudden, you had many pairs of eyes directed towards you, waiting expectantly, and you felt extremely unprepared now. What would you name them? For one, you really weren’t that good at names. And you didn’t want to name them something weird either. They were Dottore’s segments after all. It had to fit them… Think, [Name], think… think of something good right now or else you’ll disappoint these poor segments who look so pleased over a name. You then remembered a book you had skimmed through while practicing with 01, that held the letters of a certain alphabet. And suddenly, a brilliant idea popped into your head.

“I’ve got it!” You jumped up and exclaimed to the room. And then, with glee, you swung your hand and pointed it to 01. “From now on, you are no longer 01. You are Alpha.” Alpha blinked at your declaration. 

Then, you moved onto 02. “You, my dear, are Beta. And you,” your finger moving to every clone in the room. “you’re Gamma. Delta. Epsilon. Zeta.” The more you went on, the more they predicted what their name would be. “Eta. Theta. Iota. Sigma. Phi. And lastly, Omega.” You grinned pretty widely after that. That was pretty smart of you, wasn’t it?

“I see… using the letters of that alphabet also corresponds with the numbers that we were given… hehe, how clever,” Beta grinned to himself, enjoying the first few seconds of being Beta.

“And they are short and easy to remember,” Omega hummed. “Good, very good indeed, [Name].” Omega’s hands brushed your cheek, always the possessive one, while the other segments looked on in jealously. You cleared your throat.

“A-Anyways, make sure to tell everyone your new names!” And soon enough, everyone in the lab was aware of the replacement. Even Dottore, as you had made sure to tell him right after. Initially, he thought you were joking, but nope, you were one hundred percent serious. Alright then, he’d let you have your fun. He didn’t know you were this bored, to be honest. 

But it wasn’t until previously named 24 corrected him with only the word “Omega” when he referred to the segment as a number that he realized that you really did change all of their names. Well, Dottore didn’t care too much for names or numbers regarding them, it was all the same anyway, but he’s been letting you spend too much time with the clones… he’ll have to force you to sit on his lap for a while when he’s stuck doing paperwork. He’s the only one who should be the center of your attention.

There was still one last segment you had to name - your dearest 10. You were most excited to name the little boy, having wanted him to have a name to call his own the most. But, there was something that didn’t feel right. Sure, you could just give him another letter of the alphabet but 10’s one had to be… different. The child just had that much of a special place in your heart. And so you pondered and pondered until you came to a decision.

Zandy was the one who would quite literally run behind you and cling to your leg whenever another segment was near. Zandy was the one who would sit in your lap and ask you to read and explain big words to him. Zandy was the one who wouldn’t let go when he softly spoke about the nightmare he had with his hometown.

He was Zandy.

—

“Although the flightless butterfly found great company and love in Dottore and his segments, they still longed for the companionship of others. Thankfully, they managed to make a few friends - a friendly orange fox, a lovely white dove, and a sly snow leopard.”

There was no one that you loved and cared for more than Dottore. That was a fact that would never change no matter what he did or how much blood stained his hands or morals. His presence was one that brought comfort to you, which obviously would sound like a deranged lie to anyone else considering the kind of man Dottore was. But so be it. No one would ever understand your relationship.

But… it would also be a lie to say you didn’t long for the camaraderie of others. It had been a while since you woke up, and the urge to have a friend or two was much stronger than in the Akademiya. Perhaps the loneliness that came with your illness was getting to you. You knew you could tell anything to Dottore but… it would feel nice to have someone to chat with every now and then about mundane, funny things, to get your mind off other stuff, and not to bother your lover so often. It seemed luck would be on your side this time (how rare) because you got exactly what you wanted.

Childe was the first one who had found you first, and it was wholly a chance encounter.

You were simply going back to your room when suddenly a voice called out to you. (Speaking of, you began living in your own room instead of hogging Dottore’s one all the time. You liked it there, you really did… but it was too boring and bland, and your bed was way more comfy than the brick that was Dottore’s bed. And you were starting to adjust to life a lot more now.)

Regardless, the voice certainly wasn’t Dottore or the segments. Turning to look, it was the unfamiliar face of a blue-eyed ginger-haired man. Your eyes nearly popped out of your skull.

Practically no one knew of you. The few Fatui assistants there who happened to come across you merely thought of you as another experiment, perhaps one he favored more than the rest. You didn’t talk to them, and they didn’t talk to you. Dottore’s order of others to leave you alone was understood as just another one of his cruel ways of isolating you.

Of course, this wasn’t his intention. If you want to talk to others, then you should do as you please (within reason… no one else shall be hogging your attention besides him.) He respects you. But at this point, it was simply far too risky. Even with the clones, it could be dangerous for you. And of course, not only as a scholar but your lover, he must take into account all possibilities. If there was the slightest chance you’d be hurt, he wouldn’t do it. So you were resolved to be lonely for a while.

Until now. The tall man continued walking towards you, donning a gray suit with a contrasting red mask and scarf, Hydro Vision hanging off his hip. His smile seemed friendly enough and he even raised a hand to greet you, but you were stuck with your hand on your doorknob.

“Hello, comrade. How are you doing?” He was awaiting a response but you were just stuck in the same blank expression, completely unmoving as you gaped at him.

“Are you alright?” He noticed and inquired. Oh dear. This was growing far too embarrassing for your liking. No one had ever prepared for you for what to say in these situations. Should you respond? Or leave? You decided to go with the former, opting to simply nod your head in confirmation. The ginger chuckled, playing it off as you were probably being intimidated by his Harbinger ranking, unbeknownst to him the fact you had no clue who he was.

“I was wondering if you knew the way to Dottore’s office? The segments gave me directions, but every time I come here, I always get lost. This lab is never easy to navigate,” he sighed, scratching his head. 

You raised an eyebrow at his comment. This hallway with your room was specifically hidden within the lab, woven deep between many twists and turns. You genuinely wondered how lost he had to be in order to find himself here. But more importantly, you were faced with the question of whether you should help this man or not. Surely it was okay, you were just giving him directions after all. You would be irrelevant in his mind soon enough. It wasn’t like you were craving some human interaction even though you were a bit scared of talking to people.

Decisively, you turned around and pointed forward. “Go down that way,” you began softly, “and then take two lefts, then a right, another left, then straight, and finally one more right.” You knew the way like the back of your hand, after all, you went there frequently when you were sad, happy, in pain, whatever. When you looked back, the man looked as if you had just spoken another language.

“...Thank you, comrade. Hopefully, I find it, then!” You smiled at him. He was pretty nice.

“Of course. It’s not as long of a walk as you think, too.” The man chuckled in response.

“Whatever distance is fine with me. I always welcome the extra training!” With that, he waved you goodbye and began walking in the direction you pointed him to. Ah, you didn’t ask him his name… but you probably wouldn’t see him again anyway. But he did have a Vision so he was probably fairly strong… oh well. When you were all comfy between your blankets you’d soon forget about it anyway. 

And you were right. You did forget about it once you were tucked in with a nice book to read. Until there was a knock on your door. You thought nothing of it, thinking it was a segment at your door for whatever reason. A snack perhaps. Or one of them snuck away from their duties to visit you. Or maybe even Dottore himself! Regardless, you opened your door without hesitation ready to greet them. Unfortunately for you, it was not a segment. It was not Dottore. It was the same ginger from before, standing at the entrance to your room, with that same smile except it was more apologetic this time.

“Hi there again. You see, I did follow the directions you gave me but I was unsuccessful. So I’m back here again,” the man laughed and rubbed his neck. “I was wondering if you could take me there yourself? You seem to know this place pretty well.”

Your throat went dry as you had to hide your incredulous expression. Seriously, what kind of person did he have to be to end up here not once, but twice? Though he didn’t seem to think anything of it, which was good. But it was then he took notice of the environment behind the doorway, a brief surprise flickering across his face.

“Wow, quite the room you have there.” His stature made it easy for him to peer into your room. Since there was not much for you to do with your illness, you had a lot of fun designing your room (which came out of the “Regrator’s paycheck” according to Dottore.) Your room was decorated and tailored to your preferences, whether that was posters on the wall or hanging lights, shelves lined with your special interests and hobbies. It was easily the most “normal” room in the lab like someone actually lived there. Quite unlike the clones’ room which was literally just a bed and desk. Zandik’s wasn’t much better, but you bought stuff from your room and left it in his in hopes of making it more comfy for him. Instinctively you closed the door further in.

“Maybe you should just go back and ask one of the segments,” you murmured, trying to escape the situation and inching the door closer and closer in.

“I could, but those guys would probably ignore me and give me the same directions again. They aren’t very fond of me.” Well, even you couldn’t really deny that. They didn’t really like anyone… besides you of course. “And then I would end up back here, bothering you again. And finding another agent to assist me would take even longer. And Dottore doesn’t like to be kept waiting, you know.” 

He did have a point… really, it wasn’t like you minded taking him, you were just worried about if it would have any consequences. But, when you finally got a good look at the ginger, for some reason, you didn’t feel like anything bad could possibly happen. Plus, it wasn’t like the segments had to know… maybe, just maybe, you could trust him and finally have a real human conversation with someone besides your lover and his segments. Before you could change your mind, you agreed to his proposal with newfound confidence. 

“Okay, follow me then.” Then you locked your door and the man began to follow you. Thankfully the dull-eyed man had no problem starting the conversation first.

“By the way, I don’t think I’ve got your name.”

“I’m… [Name].” For a brief second, you contemplated giving him a fake name but couldn’t think of anything good. “What is your name?” He raised an eyebrow in surprise.

“You don’t know me? I’m Tartaglia, one of the Fatui Harbingers. But you can just call me Childe.” Childe. Childe. That name sounded vaguely familiar. Childe… that was one of the guys Dottore always complained about.

“Oh, I think I’ve heard of you from Dottore.”

“Plenty of bad things, I assume. But I can promise you, I’m not as bad as he says.” You giggled a bit at that.

“Well, I’ll trust you on that.”

“But I am curious. You don’t seem like one of Dottore’s experiments.”

“Yes, I’m not.”

“So are you a Fatuus?”

“Well, I guess you can say that.” Does being Dottore’s lover make you a member of the Fatui by extension? 

“Most members of the Fatui know who the Harbingers are, you know.”

“Err, well, I’m one of his personal assistants,” you lied. “So I don’t know much about the organization itself, since he makes me stay here all the time. You know how he can be. Haha.” You didn’t know what kind of bullshit you were spewing but you just hoped it made some sense.

“Oh, you’re one of his assistants? I haven’t seen you around. I thought he goes through assistants like nothing.”

“Yeah, he does, but… I have special… skills that he likes.” You hoped that would be enough. Childe seemed to nod in understanding.

“Your clothing doesn’t seem to be one of an assistant, though.” He was referring to your casual and comfortable daily outfit.

“As I said, I am special. You know, I have privileges.” That wasn’t a flat-out lie, at least. Childe looked amused.

“How interesting.” And then the conversation moved elsewhere. Childe was still definitely a bit suspicious of you. You could tell by the way he looked at you. But he was a seemingly friendly and easygoing man. If he asked a question that you couldn’t answer, he steered the conversation elsewhere. He was a great conversationalist in general, allowing you to open up a bit despite having just met him. Childe spoke about many things, his training, some battles, his cooking (he even shared with you some new Sumerian recipes you never heard of!), and most interesting to you, the world beyond the lab. Time flew quickly and soon enough you two were outside of Dottore’s office. And you couldn’t help but admit, that was incredibly pleasant.

“Well, here we are, Childe. Dottore’s office.”

“Ah, you were right! That wasn’t as long as I thought. Thank you for your help, [Name]. I’ll go in now.” He sent you a final smile before turning around but you quickly interrupted.

“Oh! Um, by the way, it would be for the best if you kept the fact you met me a secret. Please.”

“Alright then, I will. No one will know.” You beamed in response.

“Thank you! Now, I guess… good luck with the meeting!” And then you two went your separate ways. 

You liked Childe. He was fun to talk to. And it seemed like your wish would be granted because the next week, there was a familiar knock at your door. It was Childe. Although he knew the way better now, he still wanted you to guide him “just in case.” And of course chat with you along the way. Perhaps the latter was the true purpose of his visits, but regardless, this was the start of a secret friendship between you and the Eleventh Fatui Harbinger. Childe’s visits to Dottore were sporadic and you couldn’t predict when he would come, so it was a nice surprise whenever he did come around. And no one, not even Dottore himself knew. You didn’t like keeping secrets from your beloved, but it was too good to stop. But of course, all secrets are revealed in the end…

You had once again fallen asleep in Dottore’s office, refusing to leave his side and actually sleep in a proper bed. So he was carrying you back to your room to tuck you in so you wouldn’t whine to him about cramps and sores later. You’d probably complain to him about how you wanted to stay with him but he was used to it.

Dottore didn’t need to worry about being seen as these hallways were specifically hidden and practically couldn’t be found unless you were perhaps looking for them. And no one would look for them as no one besides he and his segments knew of their existence. So Dottore took the time to gaze down at you as he walked. There you were, sound asleep without a care in the world. A part of him still found it amusing how knocked out you were in the arms of a person like him. Weren’t you even the least bit concerned about what he could do? (Of course, the answer was no, because you knew he would never hurt you.)

He continued to your room with an uncharacteristic softness that would almost appear disturbing to others. At last, he reached it, without any-

… Problems, is what Dottore would have liked to say, for at your door was the Eleventh Fatui Harbinger, hand about to knock but now frozen, the two Harbingers standing silent as they stared at each other, almost comedically unmoving. Childe immediately took note of how Dottore held you in his arms bridal style, your head nuzzled into his chest and arms bunched together there as well. The soft rises of your chest signaled that you were peacefully asleep in the Doctor’s arms. There were absolutely no signs of discomfort or fear as any normal person would have around the mad doctor.

Unconsciously, he gripped your body tighter. As much as Dottore would have liked to know why and how the fuck Childe managed to get here, and somehow want to knock on your room of all doors, he was absolutely beyond the point of questions. 

“Tartaglia.” From his tone only, Childe knew he had stumbled upon something he should not have seen. “Speak of this to anyone, and not even your title will save you.”

After that little encounter, when you woke up, Dottore confronted you about what happened, and immediately couldn’t help but spill everything that happened over the course of the past few months. When you looked up at his expressionless face, you were internally scared that he would be angry with you, the silence after your confession driving you crazy, but thankfully he wasn’t. The only thing he did was sigh at your pleading face and then thumb your cheek.

“Perhaps I’ve been too harsh on you. I do remember how you liked to talk to others back then,” he hummed, which was the complete opposite of his younger self. You buried your head in his chest and looked up at him with imploring eyes. 

“So can he come over again?” Of course, Dottore’s first instinct was to reject this proposal for he didn’t want that fool to be even six feet near you, but the helpless expression you were giving him made him waver.

“I shall… think about it.” That was enough for you as you kissed him on the cheek. “At least it wasn’t the Third or the Ninth. They would be insufferable.”

“Those are the other people you always complain about,” you giggled.

“Yes, but you needn’t think about them. They won’t be coming around here anytime soon.”

Unfortunately for Dottore, it was already too late.

A few days later, there was another knock at your room door. It was almost comical at this point, you thought when you saw a young woman with numerous white accessories and a man as tall as Dottore wearing an unreadable smile at your door. Hell, you should just host a sleepover at this point.

“Well, it seems that Childe didn’t lie after all. Now I know who Dottore spends my precious Mora on behind my back,” the smiling man seemed more amused than angry if anything. Oh, so this was the guy who funded Dottore…

“You know, it was quite a challenge to get here, dear [Name]~ It’s not that easy distracting so many segments.” The girl also seemed amused and giggly. Both of them had their eyes closed with only smiles… it was an odd combination that worked.

“Um… are you Miss. Columbina and Mr. Pantalone by any chance?” You managed to piece together the names and rankings by paying more attention to the segments’ rants. The two most “nosy and annoying” people that Dottore has the displeasure of working with, apparently.

“Why, did you hear that, Lone? They know our names already! Perhaps our dear Dottore has been talking about us more than we think,” Columbina laughed, treading her fingers through her long hair, to which Pantalone chuckled along.

“Indeed, though I wonder what kind of tales he has told this one. [Name], may we come in?” The banker tilted his slightly to the side, and you had no reason to refuse. You just hoped Dottore wouldn’t be too mad. (Poor him, his dear darling being corrupted by the likes of the Damslette and Regrator. Oh well.) 

Regardless, the three of you hit it off immediately. The conversation flowed naturally, a lot of it being stories of Dottore that you had no clue about. You were surprised by how naturally everything came. Of course, the two powerful people still largely had their guards up, but it was still… nice. Fun. Perhaps the Harbingers have a little more humanity in them than most people think.

Columbina found herself around you the most. You were surprised at first - she was the Third Harbinger - surely she had much more important things to be doing besides hanging out with you. But she always laughed airly, reassuring you. She had known Dottore for a long time, she said, but never knew about you. And she would like to learn more about her newfound friend. Especially to see the annoyed expression of The Doctor when she steals too much of your time. (She loved to irritate him.)

Pantalone valued your intelligence. For some reason, he began asking you for your opinion in matters, nothing confidential of course, but still, it was notable. You were no Dottore, but the difference was that you were always willing to assist, much unlike The Doctor and his segments. And, you were greatly helpful in deciphering the confusing words of the segments and Prime himself, so Pantalone ended up taking a strange liking to you. You weren’t sure if it was because you were useful to him and his endeavors, or if he just found you amusing, or if he genuinely thought of you as a friend or just probably just an acquaintance, but no matter the reason, it was… nice to be around him every now and then. So long as Dottore wasn’t there. Otherwise, the calmness would quickly become tense instead.

Childe too, was like a little brother to you. You didn’t know why you felt that way, but you just did. He was arguably the most “normal” out of all of them (as normal as a Fatui Harbinger could be) and he was just… pleasant to be around. He was knowledgeable in the more “ordinary” aspects of life, having his own family which he loved dearly. You liked that about him. It felt silly talking to Dottore about such simple things, but not with Childe.

At the end of the day, your friends made you happy. Whether it made Dottore and his segments happy, seeing these three idiots invade the lab more often than they liked, was something you already knew the answer to. But your lover wouldn’t do anything too harsh. Not when you looked so joyful from this. So perhaps this was a small price to pay, considering how miserable you looked in the beginning.

And really, you always would belong to him, after all. Nothing would ever come in between.

—

“Though not everyone liked the butterfly. In particular, there was a fierce cat that always seemed to swipe at them whenever the two met.”

The Balladeer was someone whom you were used to seeing in the lab every now and then. You didn’t really care much for him in all honesty, but he certainly had taken some kind of interest in you, at least enough to say some not-so-nice things to your face. The puppet had seen you with the clones, with the Doctor himself, and the adoring looks you sent to them… he was disgusted by the notion of love to say the least, especially between you two but… he was intrigued. Scaramouche wanted to at least have a glimpse into the person who would make the Doctor leave in the middle of his beloved experiments to check on.

What he found was nothing spectacular. You were so fragile, even frailer than the young child he met all those centuries ago. You were weak, so weak. In fact, even an insect would be harder to kill than you. Useless too, he thought, and it was as if you knew it too because he’d see you beg the clones to just give you something to do, something to occupy your hands and mind. And… he found the personality and looks of all humans to be unexceptional so that didn’t help your case either. Scaramouche was practically convinced you were nothing more than a source of amusement for the Doctor, the doting only a form of his usual cruel manipulation. Again, you didn’t care for his theories, but his voice did grate on your ears.

Though, this time, the Sixth Harbinger had caught you on a bad day. There was no particular reason why you were having a bad day. It was just one of those days, where everything seemed to bother you. Not to mention you felt your illness was acting up more than usual… going on a walk around the lab’s endless corridors always seemed to free your mind up though.

Though of course, you were accustomed to things not going your way.

“Well well, look who we have here. The Doctor’s little plaything,” Scaramouche mocked. Oh, it was just your luck. Out of all the deserted halls, he had to be in this one. You decided to try and simply ignore his words, yet in an instant, the Harbinger was in front of you.

“I really don’t see what he sees in you,” he narrowed his eyes at you. “What kind of amusement does he use you for?”

“... I would appreciate it if you left me alone.” Scaramouche scoffed in response.

“Maybe you don’t want to admit it, but the Doctor has no capacity for feelings or emotions. Anyone close to him will meet a nasty end. Do you really think you’re any different?” The Balladeer smirked.

“...” Normally you would just turn a blind eye, but you were just so annoyed with everything today.

“What’s wrong? You’re usually so lively and talkative-”

“Look,” you finally interrupted, “just because you’re pissed with the world doesn’t mean you have to bother me with your delusions,” you snapped, fed up with his bickering with you. Hell, your life was no sparkles or rainbows but you didn’t go around making everyone miserable because of it. “At least my lover didn’t abandon me for crying, unlike someone else’s mommy.” It was only after the words had come out of your mouth that you realized what you said.

For a few seconds, there was a tense silence in the corridor. The expression on the puppet’s face made you stiffen. Oh fuck.

“How dare you, you insignificant-” Before the Balladeer could hurl any more insults at you, a stern voice interrupted him.

“I suggest you speak to them in a more respectful tone, Scaramouche.” The sudden intrusion made both you and Scaramouche jump. Neither of you had sensed the Doctor’s presence, who seemingly appeared out of nowhere as he loomed over Scaramouche. “Any further language will not be tolerated.”

For a split second, Scaramouche froze but quickly regained his usual demeanor, his ever-present scowl and balled fists returning. “Whatever,” he flipped around mumbling some more curses under his breath, the back of his hat swaying with every movement. In no time, it was just you and Dottore in the hallway, and he was staring right at you.

“How long?”

“Well-” you were going to try and blow it off as nothing important but the look he was giving you made you realize that he wouldn’t take that as an answer. “A w-while now,” you admitted. Dottore was silent for a few moments before he spoke.

“He will be dealt with accordingly,” Dottore promised as he cupped your cheek.

“...Okay,” you murmured, leaning into his touch. You knew that this wasn’t exactly right. You knew that later today you’d hear the screams of the puppet echoing throughout the lab. But as the warmth of Dottore’s hand permeated your cold skin, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

—

“The butterfly’s life seemed to be going well. A partner who loved them along with multiple segments. Friends who spent time with them. But in reality, life was much harder and dim for them than they outwardly showed sometimes. In fact, the butterfly found themselves plagued by dreams. They weren’t nightmares, but when they woke up, it certainly felt like one. Or when they did have genuine nightmares, they felt the same unease and wept about their unfortunate situation.”

Ah. Nahida was at this part of the tale. Though she would always disapprove and be the enemy of you and the Doctor, the kind God couldn’t help but feel a little bit of sympathy for you. In all of her wisdom, even she had no information of your illness. Not to mention your loneliness… she too, was lonely once, when she was trapped all by herself in the Sanctuary. But at the very least, she was able to visit others through dreams.

You, on the other hand, had no such escape. Trapped forever in your own body, with not much to be done… your own dreams serving as torment instead… how tragic, Nahida admits. But nonetheless, the Dendro Archon gets herself ready to continue the fairy tale she’s crafted.

[enbyfvcker]

"Come back home."

𝙒𝙖𝙙𝙚 𝙒𝙞𝙡𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙭 𝙇𝙤𝙜𝙖𝙣 (𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙩!𝙬𝙤𝙡𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙚)

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 2k

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮/𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩: a part two continuation from this from @psychohoneywhiskey because it rented a whole fucking condo in my head.

𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙨: Hurt/comfort, angst, fighting, fluff, kissing, happy ending, Wade needs a hug, Logan needs a hug.

Wade only got home when the sun was already rising. His suit was all torn up, and some wounds still healed from the fight he just had with some stubborn criminals.

He expected to see Logan sleeping on the couch, but he didn't.

Well, maybe he decided to sleep in his bed?

He walks to his bedroom with expectation but also finds it empty.

Actually, not entirely empty.

In his bed layed all the clothes Wade bought Logan folded. All the little thoughtful gifts he gave him. Everything that Wade got him to say through actions that he's wanted.

Looks like the message didn't land.

His heart tightens, tears welling in his eyes as he realizes that Logan left him.

Left after being willing to sacrifice himself for Wade. Left after making this crack house he lived in into a home. Left after letting Wade convince him to stay sober after decades. Left after stealing his way into Wade's heart, his life, his family.

And just like that, 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴. Without nothing with him but his suit.

Honestly, Wade doesn't think he should be surprised for this. He knew it was going to happen. He knew Logan was just waiting for an opportunity to get rid of him. Who would ever put up with him? God, if he could escape from himself sometimes, he would. He tried many times, too.

So could he even blame him, really?

In that moment, all the words Logan spat at him in that Honda Odyssey at the middle of a god forsaken void came back into his mind. They have been constantly in the past weeks.

He did feel like a ridiculous sad joke. He wanted nothing more than to be able to die alone because at least it meant he would just 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺. That his attempts wouldn't just be self-harm anymore and that when he tried blowing himself up, he wouldn't just regenerate back.

He couldn't keep his job. Couldn't keep Vanessa. Couldn't keep Logan. If it weren't for Logan, he wouldn't be able to keep his fucking universe.

He'd never be an anchor being. He'd never make a difference or matter, so why would anyone stay?

He sobbed as he held one of Logan's shirts, burying his face into it and desperately trying to smell any remaining scent of him.

Mary Puppins walks in, her tongue out as she turns her head to the side, looking up at Wade with sad eyes.

"What's all that damn noise? Did you stub your toe again?" Al walks in wearing a sleeping robe and her sunglasses, apparently having awakened from Wade's ugly crying.

"Hey, Al..." Wade just sniffles, his voice broken as he just chooses to ignore her question.

"What happened?"

"Logan left..."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Guess I'm that insufferable that he couldn't stand spending another minute with me."

"He spent whole months with you, Wade."

"Sure, but did he even have a choice? I basically kidnapped him and threw him in a fucking new universe. I'm like an old creepy guy in a van. He was just waiting for a chance to run off. And he did."

"Come here, let's get you some tea." Al gestures for Wade to follow her to the kitchen, and he does, taking the shirt in his hands with him.

"Actually, I could use some cocaine right now. And you could use the cure for blindness to see how heartbroken I am for tea." He remarks, following behind her, dogpool following Wade. "Try not to break any cups this time."

Al puts sets a kettle in the stove and turns it on as Wade sits on a chair, all droopy and his eyes red.

"Did he take anything with him? Any money? Clothes? How do you know he won't just come back?"

"No, nothing. He must be wandering the streets like a lost puppy right now. And I just know."

"I think you boys are just too stupid to communicate properly. If you talked about this shit-"

"Oh, he talked plenty, believe me. He ran his mouth about how much of a joke I am."

"Oh, cut the self-loathing crap. That was before then. You two have been acting like an old married gay couple for the last months, don't give me that. You don't see the way he looks at you."

"Oh, and you do?!"

"I don't have to see it to know that guy would throw himself in the fire for you. If he ran off, then it's probably because the idiot read your sad little kitten act like a sign he's not welcomed."

"What-"

"Shut up. Now, if you don't grow a pair of balls for once and try to find him, I sweat to god-"

"I wouldn't even know where to look. And I doubt it he'd even want me to."

"So you better start right away. Go."

"What about my tea-"

"Go."

...

The last few days were rough. And that's saying something, considering all Logan went through in his universe.

He didn't have a place to stay anymore, so he just wandered around and got from bar to bar. He didn't have any cash on him, so he would flash his claws out to the barman as a threat when he was asked about his bill.

He felt like a goddamn monster, so why not act like it. He's not proud of it, but it's been months he didn't have a drink, and all he wanted was to drown the overwhelming feelings eating at him.

He got banned from multiple bars, always hopping to the next one. Getting drunk, getting in some fights, wandering around...

He felt like he was back in his universe. He felt so fucking stupid to think maybe he could change. That maybe here he could turn the page, start a new life with Wade.

Turns out the place it's not the problem, he's the fucking problem. He's a disease that destroys everything he touches, and he should know better than to try and have any connection with anyone.

He failed everyone. He failed the X-men by not being there. He failed Charles by going into a murderous spree. He failed Laura by not being the right guy. He failed Wade by being the complete jerk he is.

He wasn't sure how many days it had been since he left. He's smelling bad, and his hair is mess, but all he cares right now is finishing one more bottle. Then, one more, and one more, and...

He feels something - someone - poking him. Logan thinks it may be the barman or the manager, so he pulls his claws out. "Look, bub, I-"

"Heya, Peanut. Gosh, I'm getting deja-vu. Ain't ya?" Logan's eyes focus to see Wade standing next to him wearing his suit and mask, and his heart races quickly. "You're a hard one to find, honey badger. And I'm a mercenary, so-"

"The fuck are you doing here?"

"You know the answer to that."

"Save it, bub. I gave you an easy way out. You should have taken it."

"Come on, let's just talk-"

"Not in the fucking mood." Logan grumbles, suddenly feeling his chest too tight and like the walls were closing on him. He stumbles while getting off the chair and heading outside with heavy steps, hearing an angry voice behind the counter as he leaves without paying.

He walks out of the bar, rushing somewhere through the empty street, nightly darkness everywhere. Where? Where the fuck was he rushing to?

He hears a bell noise and other footsteps behind him.

"Fine! I get it, alright?! I'm the worst damn piece of crap that you could possibly be stuck with! You were right, ok? I'm everything you said I am. I'd run off, too." Wade shouts, his broken voice making Logan halt in his steps. "But at least let me return the favor of you saving my universe. Let me try and find you somewhere where you don't have to deal with me-"

"It was never about that." Logan grunts, his heart aching like it was about to break.

How could Wade possibly think it was about that?

"What?"

"I'm poison, bub." Logan sighs, finally turning around. "I destroy everything I touch. I hurt everyone around me, I hurt you. I don't deserve you taking me in. I don't deserve your affection or your family. I shouldn't have thought that there was more to my life than being the miserable monster I am and living with the consequences of my own actions. You got the worst you could possibly have, Wade. I'm just doing you the favor of retracting myself before I fuck everything up beyonde repair." Logan could feel his throat tight like a knot as he fought back stubborn tears.

Wade was stunned, silent for a few seconds before he took off his mask and gave Logan the most puppy dog eyes he ever saw, his eyes glossy with tears matching his own.

"You're an fucking idiot." Wade simply stated, a sad smile in his lips. "You're not a monster. And you're far from the worst I could have. I owe my whole world to you. I know you think I'm a joke, but I couldn't ask for a better-"

"I don't think you're a joke." He interrupted.

"But... in the Honda Odyssey, back at the void..." Wade replies, hearing a chuckle that held nothing but sadness.

Fuck. It never came to Logan's mind that what he said that day actually stuck to Wade. He is an idiot. Those words felt so distant, so different from what he felt now for the merc. After all those months they lived together, getting all domestic and shit. Wade crawled into his heart that had felt dead for years and got a space there.

"That was before, bub. I didn't even really know you, of course now I don't think that shit I said."

"But you did... Back then." Wade looks down, his voice low.

"I'm sorry..." Logan says, the words feeling foreign on his tongue. "You didn't deserve that. I was a jerk. I still am, but... You make me want to be better, bub. It's stupid, but... You kidnapping me was probably the best thing that ever happened to me in years, and I was just... so scared I fucked it up too, like everything else."

Wade chuckles, and his eyes brighten as he looks at Logan, his heart feels lighter at hearing those words.

"You didn't." Wade gets closer, his hand resting at Logan's shoulder. "You're wanted. Loved."

The care and gentleness in Wade's touch melts Logan, he leans closer too.

"Come back home."

Those words alone broke him.

For so long, he didn't have a home. How could he have ever taken this one for granted?

"Alright, bub."

It was like clockwork when their lips met in a soft, gentle kiss, them holding each other closely as if they both feared the other would disappear into thin air any second. It felt so natural. Their hearts were calm and frantic at the same time.

Suddenly, there were fireworks sounds and colorful lights surrounding them, and they could hear people chanting happily in the background.

𝘖𝘩.

So it was New Year's already.

They kept their lips together for a few seconds as fireworks popped and formed colorful patterns in the sky. When they pulled away, their eyes were filled with longing and pure affection.

"You're stinky." Wade comments with a smile even though he keeps Logan close. Logan chuckles.

"Yeah, sorry."

"Come on. Let's get you home and make you a nice warm bath, peanut. Blind Al and Mary Puppins are missing you." Wade says while putting his arms around Logan's waist as he guides him their way home.

"Just them?"

"No." Wade replies. "Not just them."

[xechu]

[Devour] Chapter 2: Yearning

Pairing: Ryomen Sukuna x fem!reader

Word count: 4.5K

Warnings: please read my blog's rules before interacting. 18+ mdni, angst, eventual smut, hurt/no comfort, explicit sexual content, undertones of misogyny (because the 'olden days'), mature themes, depiction of gore and violence, mentions of pregnancy and abortion. Please note that these warnings pertain to the entire series as a whole, and not just to this specific chapter.

Tags: mini series, angst, smut, Heian Era, true form Sukuna

Summary: Sukuna brings you back to a temple, where he resides. There you also meet Uraume. You begin to doubt if running away was the best idea, but then, Sukuna offers to be your ally. Unbeknownst to you, he has his own ulterior motives for helping you.

A/N: It's here! Not going to lie, I struggled a bit with this chapter. Since this is a mini series, I would say we're already about 35% through the story, things will progress quickly in the upcoming chapters. Based on my planning, I'm looking at about four more chapters. I don't have an exact release date for Chapter 3 like I did with this chapter, but I'll post an update when it's almost complete! If you would like to be added on the tag list for this series, please let me know/leave a comment here. Thank you so much for reading and stay tuned. x

Masterlist: < Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 >

Sukuna had always deemed love meaningless. It was a feeling that held people back, making them irrational and reckless. Over the years, he had witnessed the greatest kingdoms burn and the strongest men fall, all in the name of 'love.' But the tragedy lay in the fact that, after all was said and done, that love seldom lasted. At the end of the day, people were weak and fickle, rendering love volatile. He often wanted to ask those who sacrificed everything for love: Was it all worth it in the end?

In order to attain his height of power—to become the strongest—Sukuna had given up everything, including his humanity. He had mastered the art of detachment, for attachments only served to tie one down. Letting go of all things was the inevitable cost of power, but it was an easy and insignificant sacrifice for someone like him—who had nothing to lose in the first place.

Yet, despite the King of Curses' strong convictions, there remained one glaring contradiction in his life: you. No matter how hard he tried, he could not detach himself from you. Even after all these years, his burning desire for you was a flame he could not quell, and it only seemed to grow hungrier with time.

Throughout the years, Sukuna had conditioned himself into believing that you were always going to be an unattainable dream—a fantasy that was never meant to become reality. It was better that it remained this way. You deserved to live a peaceful life, and he could continue to live out his days as the King of Curses without restraint.

But what should he do—now that his dream had become reality?

For someone with a wretched life like his, he never believed in any gods. But for the first time in his life, the King of Curses acknowledged that this reunion must have been the universe's divine will—a preordained fate. It seemed that the two of you were destined to be together.

Yes, he thought to himself, since the universe has willed it, then you shall be his exception.

He vowed that as long as he kept you by his side, you would not be a source of his weakness.

At this realization, a dark possessiveness took over him.

This time he would stake his claim.

---

Though you were no longer the little girl Sukuna had once met, he couldn't help but notice how small you were under his hold. Some things didn't change; you were still his little flower.

“It’s me, flower,” he said, urgency creeping into his voice as if he were calling into your subconscious, imploring you to remember.

You trembled in his embrace; the adrenaline coursing through you made it difficult to think straight. His words did not register as you struggled to gather your chaotic thoughts, while your mind screamed at you to run.

You remind me of flowers. The voice suddenly echoed in your mind.

“R-Ryo?” you gasped, finally making the connection.

With shaking hands, you roamed his figure, seeking confirmation in the darkness. Your fingertips softly brushed over his features. Was this a dream? Had you already died? How was it that after all these years, he was finally here—especially in your most dire moment? The surrealness of this situation felt too good to be true.

“I-It really is you,” your voice quivered with emotion. “I-I can't believe it. All this time... I thought I would never see you again."

“I'm here now, flower,” he said, capturing your hand in his. “Come with me; it’s not safe.”

Before you could utter another word, he effortlessly scooped you up, and you instinctively held on to him, tightening your grip, afraid that if you let go he would slip away again.

Sukuna traversed the forest at an inhuman speed. He seemed to know the terrain well, navigating it with ease, but for you, all you saw was unending darkness; the gust of wind threading through your hair was the only sign that you were moving. Your heart raced as he cradled you against his strong body; you could feel the heat radiating from him, evoking a warm and familiar feeling within you—a feeling that you have yearned for so many years.

Moments later, you found yourself in a clearing. Under the clear night sky, vast greenery and towering mountains loomed around you. At the foot of one mountain, a grand tree stood beside an ancient temple. Sukuna gently set you on your feet, and now that you were out in the clearing, you could get a better look at him. Standing before you was no longer the little boy from your memories; he had transformed into a formidable man—perhaps the largest person you had ever seen. He wore an oversized kimono, his bare chest exposed, and his muscular build attested to the life he had lived throughout the years. Your gaze was then drawn to the unmistakable bloodstains on his clothing.

“Are you hurt?” your brows furrowed in concern as your hand ghosted over the stains.

“Nothing worth fretting over; they do not belong to me,” he said, a smile involuntarily curving his lips at the concern you displayed.

Sukuna lifted your chin to meet his gaze. In the moonlight, he could see you with much more clarity.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, a hint of longing evident in his eyes.

Heat rushed to your face at his touch, but you were grateful that the night concealed it.

“How did you know to find me?" you quietly asked.

“The forest and the mountain are my domain,” Sukuna replied, brushing his thumb over your lower lip, as if he was trying to engrave your features into his memory. “You were lucky I found you before something else did.”

Something in your gut told you it couldn't have been mere coincidence, but you decided to keep that thought to yourself. It wasn't the time nor the place for interrogations.

"I see," you smiled wearily. "Thank you... you saved me yet again."

Your words stirred a nostalgic memory within him.

As you continued to stand there in silence, the brave facade you had been putting up began to crumble. All the events that had led you to this moment settled within you, and the feelings you had long suppressed surged to the surface—grief, resentment, confusion, fear, relief, yearning—a tempest you could no longer keep at bay.

“All these years, I’ve been searching for you,” your voice cracked, tears brimming in your eyes.

"I know," he replied, his tone low and hushed.

“Y-You did?"

Sukuna nodded.

"Then why, Ryo? Did you not want to see me?” Your chest tightened at his admission, and tears began to roll down your face.

“It was for the best.” Sukuna's jaw clenched. The sight of you crying evoked a sense of dread within him.

“The best for who?”

A brief silence hung in the air, heavy with unspoken words.

“That no longer matters, flower. We're here now, and I won't let you go again,” he said, gently wiping a stray tear from your face.

You knew he was hiding something from you, but that mattered little right now. Your body reacted before your mind, and you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace.

---

Wooden floors creaked beneath you as you crossed the threshold of the temple, and an inexplicable wave of energy washed over you. It was intense yet comforting, like the warmth of the sun—like him.

The temple was small and modest, but it felt peaceful and comfortable. It was also evident that the wooden interior had been well-maintained despite how ancient it was. The air was filled with the soothing scents of incense and cedarwood.

The earlier conversation with Sukuna loomed over you, leaving so many questions unanswered. While you could still sense a semblance of the little boy within him, he also felt unfamiliar and distant; after all, so much time had passed. You longed to know everything about him, to fill in the gaps, but perhaps that would have to wait.

As you took a closer look around the main hall, your eyes wandered to the beautifully crafted sliding doors at the back, which were fully open to reveal a serene garden that captivated you with its lush greenery and vibrant flowers.

“It’s so beautiful,” you breathed.

Sukuna looked at you under the soft glow of the candlelight illuminating the hall, and your heart began to race under his gaze amid the intimacy of the setting. He watched you intently as if he could hear the intense beating of your heart—

“Sukuna-sama, you’re back,” a gentle voice cut through the air.

You turned to find a young person standing there. Their gender was ambiguous, but their appearance reminded you of winter's first snowfall. They exuded a calm and serene presence.

“Uraume,” Sukuna acknowledged, gesturing toward you. “She is with me. Draw her a bath and prepare some fresh clothes. I’ll get a fire started.”

“Yes, Sukuna-sama,” Uraume replied, hastily leaving for the back of the temple.

You watched as Sukuna stripped off his kimono, revealing his muscular upper body adorned with tattoos.

“Ryo, where are you going?” you asked, trying to mask the fluster in your voice.

Sukuna turned back to look at you with a smile. “I’m going to hunt some game. We’ll fill our stomachs before going to bed.”

---

The warmth of the hot spring quickly melted away the stress of the day. You still could not wrap your head around the uncanny turn of events; it felt like a nightmare turned dream. Instead of being married to Lord Yamamoto, you were now reunited with the one person who had always occupied your thoughts. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you reached for a washcloth to gently remove your makeup. You knew that there would be other matters to address later, but for now, you wanted to savor this brief respite.

Sinking the lower half of your head into the water, you blew small bubbles, and images of Sukuna and the man he had become flashed in your mind, sending a warmth throughout your body.

Sukuna's renown had been spreading in recent years, and you were acutely aware of his reputation. Whispers surrounded him, calling him the King of Curses—the strongest jujutsu sorcerer of the era. There was much debate over whether he was merely a man or a deity, while others believed him to be a demon in disguise. Your village, having a strong aversion to jujutsu sorcery, viewed it as more of a curse than a gift and seemed to believe he was nothing short of a demon.

Regardless, you had only ever known him as Ryo, so you never gave much thought to the rumors. Man, deity, or demon—whatever he was, you would have accepted him unconditionally. Despite the time apart, you still felt an inexplicable tether to him.

I won't let you go again.

Those words stirred an emotion within you when he had initially spoken them, but doubts and hesitation lingered in your mind. Had it not been for your current predicament, you would have been more inclined to stay with him.

You held your breath and submerged yourself entirely beneath the warm water, hoping to silence these chaotic thoughts—even if just for a moment.

---

Feeling refreshed as you stepped out of the temple in a new set of clothes, you noticed that a fire had already been started and that Uraume was preparing some vegetables.

“Uraume-san,” you smiled as you walked over, “is there anything I can help you with?”

“Y/N-san,” Uraume exclaimed, a gentle light in their eyes. “All the preparations are nearly complete. Why don’t you sit by the fire first? Sukuna-sama should be back soon.”

You hesitated and looked to see if there was still anything to help with, but noticing how there was not much else, you acquiesced and made your way to the fire. You watched in awe as Uraume skillfully finished the last touches of their work. Soon after, they settled down beside you. It was a comfortable silence between the two of you, accompanied by the crackling of the fire.

“Have you and Ryo always lived here?” you tried to make conversation.

Uraume nodded, their expression thoughtful. “We’ve lived here for quite some time. I owe him my life.”

You looked at Uraume, curiosity piqued.

“I was at death’s door when he found me as a child,” Uraume confessed softly. “He took me under his wing.”

“He’s always been kind.” You smiled contemplatively.

“Yes,” Uraume agreed. There was a brief pause. “He…has also mentioned you before.”

“He has?”

Uraume nodded. “He said there was once a girl he met who lived in a village not too far from here. She was as kind as she was beautiful, and she reminded him of flowers. When I saw you, I knew you were that girl.”

It warmed your heart to know that he had spoken about you, but it also felt bittersweet.

“Ah, he’s back,” Uraume remarked, glancing behind you.

Your eyes widened at the spectacular sight before you. Sukuna had a deer slung over his shoulder, effortlessly making his way toward the two of you; he trekked as if the deer weighed nothing.

Sukuna dropped the deer by the fire, and Uraume instinctively got up, ready to prepare the meat. You watched as Sukuna slashed the deer's throat, collecting the blood in a bowl. A wave of queasiness washed over you, and you looked away, unable to face the brutal sight. Sukuna settled down beside you while Uraume got to work, efficiently cutting up the rest of the deer.

“Drink every last drop,” he commanded, handing the bowl to you.

“I—I don't think I can,” you put your hand out in defense, the metallic stench making your stomach churn.

“You are malnourished,” he said, grabbing your wrist to examine its size. “Have you not been looking after yourself?”

“I have,” you insisted, attempting to wiggle your wrist free from his grasp. His touch felt searing against your skin.

“You will drink this, unless you would like me to feed you,” Sukuna insisted, handing you the bowl once more, the intensity in his eyes leaving no room for argument.

You took the bowl in both hands, trembling slightly. As you watched the thick red liquid swirl inside, you held your breath and brought it to your lips, tilting it ever so slightly and allowing the liquid to slip into your mouth and down your throat. Just as you were about to lower the bowl, Sukuna's hand clasped over yours, tilting the bowl upward to ensure you finished everything.

“That’s it, flower—every last drop,” he said, his voice low and steady. When he was satisfied that you had consumed all of it, he released his grip and took the bowl from your hands. You gagged at the aftertaste, coughing as a trickle of blood ran down your chin. Sukuna's eyes grew dark at the sight; he wiped the blood from your chin with his thumb, then licked it clean.

“Ryo—!” you gasped, teary-eyed. “N-no more of that, please.”

“That will depend on how well you eat,” a hint of playfulness threaded through his voice.

“Do you drink this too?” you asked, clearing your throat.

"Of course, the blood of a deer is a highly nutritious delicacy. Did you know in some places, it is a drink shared by a married couple on their wedding night?" Sukuna smirked.

You shudder at the thought. This blood drinking experience was something that you hoped would be your first and last. But the slight implication that Sukuna made at the end also made you a bit shy.

Uraume handed a plate of skewered meat to Sukuna, and you marveled at how quickly they had prepared it. You watched as Sukuna stabbed each skewer into the ground by the fire, your attention lingering on the flames that seemed to beckon you.

"I should have whisked you away from the village earlier, had I known you were not being fed properly." Sukuna intently watched you with one of his eyes, sensing your tension.

"Well, why didn't you?" you muttered. The words escaped your mouth before you could stop it.

You were sure he had his reasons for staying away, yet you couldn’t hide your disappointment in him for keeping his distance. So much precious time had been lost, and so many what-ifs lingered in your mind.

It was juvenile, but you often dreamt of how the two of you would grow up together—an inseparable duo, the best of friends. Then, when you came of age, he would have asked you to follow him, and you would have gladly followed him anywhere. The two of you would travel all over the land, experiencing the world side by side. Perhaps, somewhere along the way, he would have asked you to marry him, and you would have said 'yes' without skipping a beat—

"Come now, don't sulk, flower," Sukuna said, breaking you out of your thoughts. "You're here now. We will make up for lost time."

"You speak as if I'm going to be staying here for good," you couldn't help but challenge him a little.

It might have been your imagination, but you thought his expression darkened for a split second.

"It sounds like you have somewhere to go then."

"I—well, I didn’t have too much time to think details. But I planned to make my way to a far out village, where no one will be able to find me."

"That would be difficult," Sukuna hummed.

"It’s worth a try… better than yielding to the fate I was subjugated to." You hugged your knees.

"Enlighten me, what was someone’s bride doing in the middle of the forest?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

There was a hesitation in telling him about your plight, but you knew it was also an unavoidable topic—after all, he had saved you, so an explanation was due at the very least.

“I ran away… from a marriage I wanted no part of.”

“How bold,” he chuckled. “It’s very like you.”

“It’s hardly a laughing matter, Ryo,” you huffed, anxiety evident in your voice.

“But you've successfully escaped. Should this not be a cause to celebrate?” he cocked an eyebrow.

“I don't know if I would consider it successful just yet," you narrowed your eyes. "I didn’t just run away from any man; I ran away from a lord. My village hoped to leverage my marriage with Lord Yamamoto for aid. There will be repercussions for my actions.”

Sukuna listened as he rotated the skewers.

"Hm, I suppose that is quite the predicament. Whatever shall you do then?" His question came out more like a taunt than a show of concern.

"Are you mocking my situation?" You frowned, your expression dropping as self-doubt crept in. You had to admit that you'd been reckless with your decision, and you didn't exactly have a reliable plan. You wouldn’t have even made it out of the forest had it not been for Sukuna.

“Of course not. Don't look so defeated," he softly tsked, smoothing the crease between your brows with his fingers.

You looked at him with a mixture of surprise and hesitation.

"Is there any reason for you to worry if I am going to be by your side?" he returned your gaze, a burning confidence in his eyes.

“It’s not so simple, Ryo. I don’t want you to be caught in my problems—”

“A mere lord and your measly village is not a problem,” Sukuna replied, passing a skewer to you.

You reluctantly accepted the skewer, your fingers momentarily brushing against his hand during the exchange. As divine as the meat smelled, you couldn't bring yourself to eat; your worries and anxiety loomed large over your head.

"It's not going to eat itself if you keep staring at it," Sukuna sighed, crossing his four arms and giving you a stern look.

Taking a tiny bite, your eyes momentarily lit up. It tasted even better than it smelled. Before you knew it, you had devoured the entire skewer, and Sukuna was already handing you another one. Perhaps you were hungrier than you had thought, but his pleased expression did not escape you—he cared, and that alone filled you with immense happiness.

"Do you not wish to stay here?" he asked, breaking the silence.

"It's not about what I want," you shook your head. "What if something happens to both of you because of me?"

"You needn't worry about us, Y/N-san; we are more than capable of dealing with Lord Yamamoto," Uraume smiled at you. Their gentle reassurance only seemed to amplify your guilt.

"We can't be sure of that—"

“Are you not aware of what they call me?”

You sighed, a sense of apprehension filling your chest. "I am..."

“Then if you know my reputation, you should understand that even if Lord Yamamoto and his entire arsenal, along with your village, were to descend upon us right now, they would not stand a chance.”

Sukuna seemed adamant about helping, but that only served to heighten your uneasiness. It wasn't that you doubted his capabilities; but you also understood that your actions would have dire consequences. A runaway bride of Lord Yamamoto wasn't a matter that would be overlooked so easily. Surely, the four men who had escorted you had reported back to their lord that you had escaped. Even if Sukuna could easily deal with them, he would be branded a criminal—forever having to be on the run. He had endured enough hardships in his life, and it felt like you were only adding to his strife. You didn't deserve this kindness from him; his life was fine before you came along.

"This will be your home. You will be safe as long as you stay by my side. So stay here, Y/N.” An unexpected possessiveness laced Sukuna's voice.

You looked up at Sukuna in surprise; you had never heard him call your name before. His eyes silently pleaded with you to stay—shattering your resolve.

"Tell me you need my help, flower," Sukuna urged, looking into your eyes with an intensity that made your breath hitch.

A lingering silence filled the air, broken only by the crackling of the fire and the rhythm of your heartbeat.

"Help me, Ryo…" you finally said.

---

You hadn't felt so full in a long time. Sukuna had ensured you ate your share of food before retiring to bed. Following behind him, you were led to your sleeping accommodations, and to your surprise, he took you into his chamber, which overlooked a small private garden and hot spring.

The temple was modest in size, containing only two bedrooms. It didn’t feel right to intrude on Uraume's private quarters, especially since it was Sukuna's decision to keep you, but he also couldn’t deny he had other intentions.

Before crawling into bed, you turned to meet Sukuna's gaze.

“Ryo… I don’t know how I could ever repay you. If there's anything I can do for you, you must tell me," you said earnestly.

“Hmm,” he paused, feigning contemplation.

You looked at him eagerly, trying to anticipate what he could ask for.

"Anything?" he drawled, rubbing his chin.

You nodded.

“Alright," he smirked, "swear yourself to me.”

Your eyes widened. You weren’t exactly sure what that entailed, but you trusted him implicitly. He most likely needed an extra hand with taking care of the temple and doing some extra work around here.

“A-are you sure that’s all you want? That hardly seems adequate, I am troubling you after all.” You fidgeted with the hem of your sleeves.

"You undermine yourself, flower."

“Oh, well, I do have many skills I could offer, and I promise to be useful around here. I’m quite knowledgeable about plants, herbs, and flowers. I may not be as good a cook as Uraume, but—”

"Staying by my side is enough," he interjected.

There was a sincerity in his voice that was new to you, making your heart do flips inside your chest.

"Ryo..." you spoke quietly, clasping your hands tightly. "I might misunderstand if you're so kind to me."

Oh, what a delight you were. Sukuna felt an intense urge to smother you.

“Well, what if I wanted more than just your domestic skills?” he asked lowly, taking a lock of your hair into his hands.

Your heart raced, and suddenly the room felt hot as you understood his implications.

“Is that… what you truly desire?"

"And if it is?"

There was a brief pause.

Just this morning, you were still in utter despair, wholly expecting to be wedded to a monster. But now, in this moment, it was not Lord Yamamoto before you, but rather the man of your dreams—the only man you had wished to marry. He had long claimed your mind and heart; what more was your body?

"Then take me," your voice was barely above a whisper.

Sukuna’s eyes darkened, but why did he feel so disappointed by your response? It almost rolled off your tongue too easily.

"You would just give yourself to any man, so long as they ask?"

"N-no, you misunderstand!"

Sukuna remained silent, the look in his eyes demanding you to elaborate.

"If that were true, I wouldn’t have ran away from Lord Yamamoto. You're not just any man to me, Ryo. I—" love you. The heat crept up to your ears.

Your timid confession sent a chilling thrill through his body, awakening a primal hunger within him, he could no longer resist.

“Do you truly wish to be mine?” he asked, tucking your hair behind your ear. You felt dizzy under his touch and gaze.

"Yes..."

"Look at me and say it." He hissed.

"I'm yours, Ryo. I want to be yours." You met his eyes and gently took his hand, placing it over your heart, hoping he could feel how violently it was beating against your chest.

“You didn’t need to ask me to swear myself to you; I would have gladly followed you anywhere. I've felt that way ever since we were children.”

Sukuna was rarely caught off guard. The first time he recalled was when you approached him as a child, and the second was this very moment. You had just confessed your feelings for him and expressed a desire to stay with him of your own volition. Nobody else had ever been able to elicit these feelings from him, and the dominion you unknowingly held over him was both terrifying and thrilling.

"Then I will take you, flower—your heart, body, and soul."

Without sparing another moment, he wrapped his hand behind your head and crushed his lips against yours in a searing kiss. The world around you fell silent.

For once, it felt as if the universe had smiled upon his wretched life.

Writing © xechu - please do not redistribute, translate, or repost any of my works.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the pictures used for the banner.

Taglist: @paradisestarfishh @ssetsuka

[venus-haze]

Secret Identity!Homelander x Reader Headcanons

Note: Gender neutral but mildly fem-coded reader, and no descriptors are used. This is inspired by the throwaway line from season 1 where Homelander mentions having a secret identity, but not keeping it for long, so I imagine it’d have been in the 2000s when he was in his 20s. My brain really latched onto the idea, and this is the result. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Warnings: Voyeurism, relationship under false pretenses, obsessive and disturbing behavior. Do not interact if you're under 18.

• Your new neighbor moves into the apartment next door seemingly overnight, but luckily you have a box of brownie mix and some powdered sugar tucked away in your cupboard and decide to make some as a ‘welcome to the building’ gesture

• His name is John, and he apologizes in advance if he wakes you up with his coming and going since he works odd, inconsistent hours as a crime reporter for a small, independent newspaper

• You notice the Indiana University logo embroidered on his sweatshirt and cheerfully say, “Hey, you’re a Hoosier! I’m sure you’re already working on your March Madness bracket.” He nods along as if he understands what the fuck you’re talking about. The two of you continue small talk until you make your leave back to your place. He goes to his computer, groaning at his choice of Indiana as his home state when he doesn’t know anything about basketball, let alone March Madness and brackets

• Over the next week or so, he realizes just how unprepared he is for living on his own, but luck’s on his side, because he hardly has to worry about doing much cooking or cleaning himself when you’re constantly inviting him over for dinner and offering to bring his clothes over to the laundromat with yours since you “know he’s so busy with work”

• Sometimes he has trouble keeping his backstory straight, though he is at least able to bullshit his way through your questions about college and basketball. That doesn’t faze you at first, as he keeps you enraptured with his inside scoop on crime in the city. You’re none the wiser as to how he knows the intimate details of some of the cases, under the impression that he’s just a great reporter

• He keeps tabs on you from afar, Homelander doing quick fly-bys of the area where you work just to make sure everything’s okay. He was raised to be a hero, after all. When you’re alone in your apartment, however, he has no shame in looking through your walls and listening in on what you’re up to. He knows everything about you, the type of music you listen to, the TV shows you watch, the food you go for when you wake up for a midnight snack, that you call your best friend every Thursday night at nine, no detail is too minute for him

• One evening, he decides to take a closer look at your place while you’re in the shower, until he looks through the bathroom wall and feels his mouth go dry at the sight of you. He slips his hand down his pants, and, well, what you don’t know won’t hurt you. It becomes a habit, his guilty pleasure of getting himself off whenever you’re naked in your apartment

• To you, though, he’s still your hot neighbor-friend John, who your coworkers have been pestering you to make a move on, telling you that it sounds like he’s straight from a Hallmark movie. You’re reluctant, but you start to consider something with John when you mention wanting to get rid of some of your older, worn-out furniture and buy new stuff and lament having to pay a company to move. He volunteers to help you during the weekend

• It’s almost funny how he pretends to struggle to move the furniture when he could rearrange your entire apartment without breaking a sweat. He seems to be a good actor, though, because he notices your forehead creased with worry as you watch him move a couch himself. He likes your eyes on him for a change, and though he flexes his muscles every chance he gets, the concern awakens something in him. It’s nothing less than calculated when he “accidentally” drops the couch, pretending to hurt his arm in the process

• You’re frantic as you rush to his side to inspect the damage. Of course there’s no bruising, a truck would have to land on him for that to happen. Still, you gingerly touch his arm and he pretends to hiss in pain. You disappear into the kitchen, only to return with a bag of frozen vegetables in your hand and guilt etched across your features

• “John, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?” you ask, brushing his hair from his face, and it takes everything in him not to lean into your touch as he assures you he’ll be fine. The furniture moving project is over for the night, and you order a pizza and let him pick a movie to watch. Your movie collection is almost foreign to him, having been raised on a carefully curated selection of propaganda and clean American classics. He picks Dirty Dancing on a whim, and it proves to be a good choice as you gush over how much you love the movie

• For the first time in his life, he indulges in greasy junk food and cheesy movies, feeling that pang in his heart again as he watches the romance unfold on screen, the one weakness he could never quite get over, loneliness. He notices how as the movie progresses, you end up curled up against him. He furrows his eyebrows, wondering to himself if it’s actually a date all along, and from the way you keep glancing at his lips, only to bashfully look away when he catches you staring confirms that

• He can hear your erratic heartbeat and decides to just go for it, stealing a kiss from you in the middle of the movie. From then on, you’re dating, and suddenly this persona of his becomes far more complicated than he anticipated. You make him happier than he’s ever been in his life. He wants to keep you incredibly close, both of your respective free time consumed by each other, even while he’s Homelander, unbeknownst to you

• John may as well be your dream boyfriend in the beginning of your relationship, attentive and romantic, bringing you to a nearby park on your first official date for a picnic and to try the famous Dirty Dancing lift scene. “Let’s at least try!” he insists. “I’ll catch you.” Despite your hesitations since he’d hurt his arm moving your furniture just a few days ago, he catches you with an almost unbelievable ease on the first try, to your delight. “I’ve always wanted to do that!” you laugh as he sets you down, pulling him in for a kiss

• He buys you elaborate floral bouquets and increasingly expensive gifts, to the point where you wonder how the hell he has that kind of money as a reporter unless he gets paid off by the same criminals he’s supposed to be reporting on. Sometimes he’s troublingly jealous or says things that unsettle you, but you assume it’s because of the line of work he’s in, being exposed to the worst of people. Besides, whenever you get even the slightest bit nervous by his words or actions, he seems to know just when to swoop in and calm you down

• Definitely has no concept of personal space or normal sleep schedules. You’re the first non-Vought affiliated person he’s ever had any kind of relationship with. It’s intense and things move pretty fast, like "I love you on the third date" fast. He idealizes you a lot. Emotionally you’re stretched thin by having to fill the role of lover, parent, best friend, confidant silly rabbit

• Date nights at your place are comforting and domestic, but going out is always an adventure with him. His lack of knowledge of generally getting around New York is downright strange since he reports on crimes all over the city. Not to mention, people do double-takes when they see him, as if they recognize him from somewhere but then figure otherwise. It happens way too often to be a coincidence, though

• Sex with John can also be unpredictable, passionate and loving to intense and almost painful. He’s into some weird stuff and doesn’t have the best etiquette when it comes to his kinks. Not to mention his stamina is almost inhuman, and when you comment as much after he fucks you the fourth time in under two hours, his response is strange, to say the least. You chalk it up to years of sexual repression that he maybe didn't get out during his college years

• Still, he supports and adores you, so you can deal with the frustration and emotional exhaustion when he knocks on your door at eleven at night, letting out a dramatic sigh as he flops on your couch and you take the cue to ask him how his day was. You know there’s something he’s keeping from you, but you decide not to push it. He’s just as interested in your everyday life, hell, he wants you to bother him with the mundane stuff. That’s what boyfriends are for, anyway. You have no idea of what his true identity is, yet you still love him 

• It can’t last forever, though, because you work late one evening, so he decides to check up on you, just to be safe. The scene he descends on is almost too perfect, the type of scenario he’d seen played out in the Vought-branded Payback cartoons he watched growing up. Still, seeing the man so much as pointing the knife in your direction as he demands you hand over your money and valuables almost makes Homelander lose control

• He lands in between you and the man, who takes a nervous step back. “Not so brave now, huh, buddy?” Homelander scoffs, grabbing the man’s wrist and snapping it, the knife falling to the ground as he screams in pain, clutching his broken wrist

• The situation becomes even more nightmarish as you watch America’s fresh-faced hero push your attempted assailant onto his knees, a cruel gleam in his eyes and sneer on his lips as he grabs the man’s head and twists. You can’t bare to watch, gagging when you hear a distinct snap followed by the crunching of bones

• Homelander turns to you, taking you into his arms for what’s supposed to be a comforting embrace, “It’s alright now. You’re safe with me, babe” 

• Your brain pretty much short circuits as you realize your boyfriend John is actually the most powerful superhero who ever lived, and you just witnessed him break a man’s neck like it was a toothpick

• Naturally, you pass out, right into his blood-covered hands. He presses a kiss to your forehead and takes off for Vought Tower. No need to pretend anymore, right?

[hippolotamus]

can nobody hear me? (i've got a lot that's on my mind)

some EddieKaren thoughts that have been rolling around my brain since the end of S7 🫶

“How did you do it?” Eddie asks, staring into the wine glass loosely held in his grasp. “Do what?” Karen raises a brow at him before taking a sip of her Pinot Noir.  Eddie decides that’s a good idea, too. Something he can do to stall while the full bodied liquid bursts with flavor on his tongue. Earthy, oaky, all the little nuanced notes Eddie’s never been able to discern quite like other people. He knows hops, summer ales and IPAs, but tannins or detecting Napa versus some remote region in France? Not really his forte.  “The empty room,” he finally supplies. “When-"  He doesn’t finish his sentence - can’t finish it - but he doesn’t think he’ll have to.  “Oh.” Karen slowly lowers her glass to the coffee table and folds her hands in her lap.  “The first night-“ She fixes her gaze on a spot by the door, as if she expects to relive the nightmare all over again at any moment. “The first night without Mara was absolute hell. We sat in her room for hours, me and Hen. Like worried parents waiting up for someone we knew wasn’t coming.” She continues to stare, clicking her thumbnails together. “In the morning it was almost worse. To wake up and remember all over again. To realize nothing had changed except the position of the sun. Our daughter was still gone. Ripped right out from under us.”  He watches as her jaw ticks and she swallows down the bitter memories. She finally looks at him, her face painted with compassion and a watery smile. “But life didn’t stop. No matter how much we wanted it to. We still had Denny. He reminded us that we weren’t the only ones hurting.”  Eddie shifts uncomfortably in his chair, wanting to hide from her subtle insinuation. The way she always sees through him. “It was him and trying to figure out how to get Mara back. How to get our family back. That's what kept us going. What kept us from giving up on everything else.” A tangle of emotions sits in his chest, barbed wire slowly ensnaring his heart and lungs. He doesn’t have another kid to keep him afloat, or a villain councilwoman to fight. Only himself. Well, him and his demons. The voices in his head telling him he should have died in Afghanistan. Or on the sunny streets of LA. The insistent whispers that he should have skipped the step where he dared to hope, that he should have conceded Chris to his parents in the beginning. He wishes fixing this was as easy as convenient body cam footage.  “Hey.” Karen lightly touches his shoulder, just enough to remind him she’s still there. “He’ll come back.” It’s meant to be a comfort, he knows that. Except it feels like a platitude, the way people say ‘remember the good times’ when someone close dies. A part of him wants to throw the wine, to ask how she can say that. Because she doesn’t know. Just like Eddie didn’t know he would ever have to be without Chris again. A different piece of him wants to throw a tantrum. He wants to be the one screaming for once and making demands of the unfeeling universe.  Instead, he gives her a tight nod. “I hope so.”

[cultofdixon]

Falling for you…wasn’t meant to hurt

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • The two of you grew close because the universe thought you were meant to be. But Daryl agreeing to let you help him find Carol’s daughter, he didn’t expect anything bad to happen • ANGST/SFW • TW: Impalement / Injuries / Anxiety / Restlessness

Requested by: Anon

“If you’re gonna go search for the kid, don’t go alone.”

“Fine” Daryl made his way toward the camp outside the farm house as Rick gave him a confused look.

“Who are yea takin’?”

“Y/N” He states without a second thought in mind as Rick quickly grabs his shoulder stopping him.

“You sure that’s your best option?”

“I trust her more than you, Rick. She’s more than the best choice” Daryl retracts from the man continuing his way over to the tent city they have going on as Y/N’s was on the side closest to Daryl’s.

________

“Who’s that?” Merle elbows his brother to look at the woman seated on top of the RV.

Daryl looked over trying to get a good look at her face but when he couldn’t. He gave up and told Merle not to go there knowing damn well his brother was going to holler at her.

Then later in the night, Daryl went over to the camp fire they always have going when dinner was made from whatever he and Merle caught. He went to get him and his brother some dinner only for the woman from the roof of the RV to hand him two prepared plates before he could ask somebody to.

“It’s Y/N by the way”

“What?”

“My name. I’m the “who’s that” from the other day” Y/N gave him a small short lived smile before looking down at the book laid in her lap.

Daryl stood there a bit awkward while holding the plates as he cleared his throat to get her beautiful E/C eyes to look up at him.

“Daryl”

Her smile shot back instantly making his heart beat quicken.

“Don’t be a stranger, Daryl”

________

“Do you trust Rick?” Y/N asks Daryl as he was getting one of the Greene’s horses strapped with a saddle.

“Don’t know yet, more than Shane if it came to that though”

“Ugh. In those terms I agree…I just. Don’t understand how he’s so blind to their nonsense” Y/N frowns looking over to the camp while Daryl did his thing but his attention seemed to always fixate on her when she didn’t seem alright.

“Ready. Least I think I got this shit on right”

“You ride a horse before?”

“Uh. No, shouldn’t be too hard”

“If we had the resources like the old world, I’d tell yea to wear boots. So your feet wouldn’t slip from the stirup” Y/N stared watching Daryl get on with ease extending his hand for her as he kept his cool when her smile practically shot him. “Don’t do anything too crazy, cowboy”

“Wouldn’t dream of it” Daryl chuckles lightly as his mind was running miles at everything she did, even if it was the smallest thing of wrapping her arms around his waist. “Alright, let’s get”

God I really hate horses Y/N thought as she held onto Daryl for dear life wishing they went on foot.

I can’t focus On the other hand, Daryl’s mind raced having her this close.

But a good thing can’t last forever in the end of the world.

________

Daryl cared, but he also didn’t. In the moment he didn’t care about anybody else except her when he returned from Atlanta to find out a herd was crashing through.

Not that she needed any help given every walker that came toward her, met the short end of the stick.

Once the horror show came to an end and many were mourning, Y/N dropped her axe before falling to her knees and trying to wrap her head over all the happened. Her mind was flooded until she felt hands carefully take a hold of her face. Her eyes instantly locked onto his piercing blues.

“Are yea bit?” Daryl frowns waiting for her to answer as she shook her head, bringing a whole wave of relief. “Alright, c’mon. Let’s get yea cleaned up”

________

They can handle anything

Daryl jolts awake in a bit of a haze feeling the pain in his side realizing he was impaled by his own arrow. But given the racing situation at hand, it didn’t remain in his side as he quickly pulled it out while scrambling to get his crossbow in order to shoot the walker getting dangerously to Y/N’s unconscious form.

The second he landed the shot, Daryl dropped his crossbow rushing the best he could over to Y/N and rolling her onto her back noticing the branch embedded in her side.

“Fuck” Daryl frowns removing his shirt wincing when he agitated his injury and wrapping it around her middle to secure the branch. “Wake up, wake up, WAKE UP” he didn’t meant to shout so loud at the last part but it got her to jolt awake wincing in pain immediately. “Sorry. I’m sorry”

“W-…What a way….t-to wake a dying p-p…person” Y/N scoffs wincing more feeling the branch move when she took a breath.

“Y-Yea ain’t dyin’”

“H-Hurts…though” Y/N finally got a deep breath in, exhaling slowly feeling his fingers press against the pulse point on her neck. “Mm still here…”

“Yea better be by the time we get back”

Y/N couldn’t even wrap her head around that thought. Of making it back alive. She thought she was going to die there or on the way back, but given how hard Daryl was trying and the anxiety laced in his voice. Even with how much he’s talking…she’s not going to feed into the seeds of doubt and let him try, hell…she’s still trying.

“Can’t move yea too much…gonna have to go the long way”

“H…How’d we even…?”

“Stupid goddamn h-horse” Daryl winced to his pain when he tried to get up so he could help her up. Y/N carefully pressed her hand to his injured side getting another wince out of him and when she removed her hand she saw the blood.

“You can’t die for me” The first clear thing she’s said since the fall and Daryl didn’t know what to say. The anger that always laid dormant in him at times, started to peak out when his mind raced to the conclusion that he’s not going to listen to her if she starts talking about leaving her behind.

“F-Find something”

“What?”

“F-…Find ah…” Y/N laid back again in the dirt looking around locking onto the walker he had killed to keep her from getting bitten. “S-Stop the bleeding. T…Ta…Take his s-shirt”

He would listen to her direction but find himself yelling at every moment she closed her eyes. They were both weak, but he’s the only one capable of getting them out of there.

Daryl took the shirt and secured it to stop the bleeding on his side. Then he decided to take the dead’s pants thinking if he could climb up from where they fell while Y/N was wrapped to his back, then they could follow the same tracks that got them there instead of trying a whole new route. But that meant having to cut the branch shorter and warning her was the easy part.

Feeling her nails dig into his arm as he used his knife to shorten the branch on either side…listening to her scream in agony and the blood continued to seep through his shirt that was supposedly secured around her. He was in hell.

Y/N tiredly watches the creek disappear as Daryl carries her on his back taking his sweet ass time climbing.

“Gonna get Hershel, to check on yea.”

“You…”

“Me? Me what? Me too? Yeah no shit. None of’em out there are gonna let me walk around bleedin’”

“…s-someone needs to care”

Daryl was reaching the last stretch in climbing when she said that. He was confused on what she meant but when he finally got onto the main path pulling the rest of her up and beside him. Y/N had gone unconscious again. She wasn’t finished and he wasn’t happy seeing her eyes closed.

“Come on” Daryl shakes her at first, trying to keep the yelling at a minimum because the only thing it’s going to do is draw more sickos toward them. But he wasn’t getting anything immediately. “Y/N?” His fear started to get him as he gently brushes the hair out of the way of her face shaking her head carefully. “Please. Please. I can’t lose you. I can’t.” His voice cracked, his tears were threatening to spill over.

It took a second but she tiredly opened her eyes reaching forward and grabbing a fist full of his tank top.

“Tired…” She sighs feeling his hands rest on her face. “Sorry”

“You’re not allowed to die, alright? I’ll kill yea if you do”

Even in a weak state she couldn’t help but laugh to such.

Soon they were on their feet, Y/N’s arm draped over Daryl’s shoulders as he kept her up the best he could while they made their way back.

“Walkers!” Andrea yells catching everyone who was outside’s attention.

As Rick, Shane, Glenn, and T-Dog grabbed their guns and made their way to the walkers given there was only two. But Andrea decided to take the hunting rifle and get ready to take at least one of them out.

“Andrea don’t”

“Shut up Dale”

Y/N groaned touching her side to see the fresh blood coming out as she gave Daryl a worried look while he kept a stern one. He wasn’t stopping. Then her anxiety got the best of her right when the four approached them aiming their gun.

“That’s the second time you aimed that thing at me” Daryl huffed.

“Oh my god Y/N” Glenn frowns noticing her injury then they all were startled by both Y/N shoving Daryl off and her falling back when the shot rang through. “Holy FUCK!”

The group that rushed over surrounded Y/N as Daryl weakly looks up from his fallen position noticing her unmoving form. He couldn’t quite pick out what they were saying as he tried to get himself off the ground. Eventually T-Dog approached him with an extended hand.

“C’mon man. We gotta get you checked out”

“Is she—-“

“She’s still breathing” T-Dog reassures him as he got Dixon back on his feet bringing his arm around his shoulders. “The hell happen?”

“Goddamn horse” he scoffs feeling his anger bubble inside himself when watching Shane carry Y/N sprinting toward the house.

Daryl found himself at the dining room table letting Maggie do his stitches while the room that once had Carl, now had Y/N being worked on by Hershel with help from Patricia. He anxiously waited and winced every now and then when Maggie pulled a bit too tight on her stitches. She’d apologized immediately.

“Yer dad is good right?”

“Yes. For someone who originally only worked on animals” Maggie states applying the bandage as Daryl immediately got up leaving the house and approaching the camp.

“Who the fuck fired?”

Everyone grew tense with the tone he took as it was obvious given her avoidance to eye contact when he brought it up.

“Who. Shot. Their. Gun.”

“Andrea” Glenn blurted as Dale smacked him in the arm. The guy was nervous. He wasn’t about to lie for her.

“I’m sorry Daryl! You two looked awful and from afar—like walkers. I had to protect—-“

“FOUR OF YALL CAME TOWARD US. WE DIDNT NEED SOME TRIGGER HAPPY BITCH TAKE CARE OF IT” Daryl snaps as Rick stepped between them pushing him back gently keeping mind of his own injuries.

“Look. You’re upset. We all are. We’re worried about—-“

“Nah. She wouldn’t have gotten hurt if you had just trusted me to take care of business by myself. I shouldn’t have taken the one person I care about in this goddamn apocalypse” Daryl clenched his jaw moving his gaze to the floor. “I’m leavin’ if I lose her” he whispered.

“Daryl”

The two quickly turned to Maggie as she kept a relaxed expression but the tension in her shoulders struck Daryl’s anxiety.

“We need you”

Daryl quickly ran toward the house and barging into the room noticing the branch was still in Y/N’s side.

“Why the fuck haven’t—-“

“I stabilized it but she woke up, screamed at us wondering where you were—-“

He didn’t say anything all he did was instantly to go to her side noticing the color that left her face from the blood loss, and the bullet graze on the side of her face.

“D-Daryl. It h-hurts” She whined with tears streaming down her face as Daryl held her hand trying not to fall apart.

“He’s gotta take it out and access yea, sunshine”

“P-Please. Don’t leave”

“Wouldn’t dream of it” Daryl states giving Hershel a look for him to get started as he watches the doc move the bandaging showing the branch that still needed to be pulled out. His heart was pounding in his chest holding Y/N’s hand knowing in a split second he’s going to have to hold her shoulders.

Which happened to be now. Hershel started to pull the branch out and Y/N tried to fight Hershel wanting him to stop but he kept repeating “almost there”. Daryl brought his hands to her shoulders pinning her down as Patricia held her legs down to keep the movement at a minimum. She clawed at Daryl’s arms crying in pain as he knew he would be hearing her screams whenever something went wrong in the future.

Once the branch was removed, the blood poured in new places that weren’t where the clamps were. Leading Hershel to apply pressure immediately while Patricia scrambled to get what they needed. Daryl relaxed but tensed instantly when Y/N’s breathing slowed…slower than normal.

“Goddamn it” Daryl frowns holding Y/N’s face shaking her slightly. “Come on come on come on!” He shouted startling everyone as Hershel took notice and quickly checked her pulse while Patricia kept the pressure.

“Son, you know CPR?!”

“What?! Nah. No she don’t need it. She’s just—-“

“You need to do it or she’ll die”

Then the sound went out in his head. Daryl instantly started to do CPR and tried his best not to instantly break her ribcage with the pressure he was building up to. His shoulder was grabbed when Hershel finished his work and checked her pulse. He did good. Daryl did good.

“She’s gonna be unconscious for a while” Hershel states, about a few hours later as it was now the evening. Daryl hasn’t left her side and he mainly said that in hopes he’d get up to walk around a bit. But he didn’t want to face anybody. “She lost a lot of blood and it’ll take a while—-“

“Use mine”

“Pardon?”

“I’m fucking universal. Take some of mine to help her”

________

“He seriously did that?” Y/N questions Daryl as the two were sitting alone in the room they were sharing at the CDC.

“Got a lot of money out of it”

“But that’s not safe. Taking three pints? How did you not go into shock?”

“Who said I didn’t?”

“Daryl, I’ll fucking kill you if you ever gave me your blood”

“Huh?” Daryl was confused on what she meant and Y/N was getting at, if the situation asked for it. She wouldn’t want him to bleed himself just for her to live. “You ain’t gonna lose a fuckton of blood. Won’t let it happen”

________

Three pints. Fucking moron.

But Hershel only took one a day and gave it to Y/N, letting Daryl take the couch in the living room to recuperate after each transfusion. He had to be a human blood bag, Hershel couldn’t calculate a pint so he had a cut off period. Meaning 3 pints could’ve been less than what was taken.

Daryl didn’t have to give anymore and found himself back in the chair beside the bed staring blankly at the window seeing the group take advantage of the luxury of the Greene farm. Part of him knew it wasn’t going to last. Something in him was leaning toward that, but he wasn’t going to lose her if something bad were to happen.

He flinched to feeling something as he brought himself to cross his arms turning toward her thinking it was just a breeze. But when he noticed her open eyes and extended hand, it was her.

“Holy shit. Holy SH—“ Daryl cut himself off when Y/N brought her finger to her lips to shush him as he leaped out of the chair dropping to his knees directly beside the bed dropping his head onto the bed. She instantly wrapped her arm around his shoulders as her other hand carefully reached over to run her fingers through his hair. “Thank god. Thank fucking god”

“Dar…your arm is bruised”

“Don’t…don’t worry about it, sunshine. I had to do what I had to do”

A sigh escaped her lips making him turn his face toward her as she gently caresses his face watching him relax to her touch.

“I’m always going to worry about you”

“Y/N…you almost died” His voice cracked as her expression saddened gripping the back of his shirt tugging at him. Daryl got the idea as he pulled himself up letting Y/N wrap her arms around him as they both kept in mind their injuries.

“I’m not going anywhere…has to take a lot to take me away from you”

“I love you…I loved yea since I first met you…”

Y/N held onto him with the strength she had feeling Daryl hide his face in the crook of her neck.

“Falling for you, wasn’t meant to be literal” She giggles feeling him pull away so he could get a good look at that smile of hers that he missed so much. “I love you Daryl”

The tears came back when he brought his lips to hers feeling her gently wipe away his tears not breaking the kiss they shared. She returned her arms around his shoulders parting from him to bring him close once again.

“I ain’t letting go, sunshine”

“Good…”

[euphoricdr3ams]

Untitled

Y/N and Felix have always been inseparable—best friends who shared everything from gaming marathons to dreams of the future. But as their paths begin to diverge, with Felix chasing his K-pop dreams in Korea and Y/N heading to university in Melbourne, the unspoken feelings between them start to surface. What begins as a playful dare at a high school party turns into a kiss that changes everything, blurring the line between friendship and something deeper. As they navigate the chaos of growing up, long-distance, and their own insecurities, they must decide: is their bond strong enough to survive the changes, or will the weight of their dreams pull them apart? A story of first loves, missed chances, and the bittersweet beauty of growing up.

genres: written, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, angst,unrequited love, senior year (highschool), felix and Y/N are aged up to 17, pre-debut,

Trigger Warning: underaged drinking for now

Word count: 5,000

Authors Note: let me know what u think, I may continue on with this depending on the interest

Circa Late 2017

“How many times are you going to spam the same move?” Y/N complained, her tone a mix of frustration and amusement. She was knee-deep in the world's longest stock-battle stalemate with one of her closest friends.

“I’ll keep at it until you’re as good as dead. I’m not just going to hand you this win,” Felix teased, a smirk on his face as his Pikachu sent her Toon Link flying dangerously close to the edge of the map. 

Both of them were focused, their palms sweaty, eyes locked on the screen. The usual banter and light teasing that typically filled their sleepovers and competitive match nights faded into the background. All that mattered now was winning—something both took very seriously in their shared passion for gaming.

Y/N and Felix could never really pinpoint the exact moment when their friendship had become so close, when they started to latch onto each other like koalas. If you asked, you'd get two different answers, but the overall theme was the same: when they were together, the noise of the world stopped. Nothing mattered outside of each other. 

It had started with casually sparring at the after-school gaming club, but their connection grew far beyond that. She showed up to his Taekwondo competitions whenever she could, cheering him on from the sidelines, and he supported her at her art competitions. Soon, their families knew each other well, and their worlds began to merge without either of them realizing it. 

“YESSSS! I told you!” Y/N practically bounced in her seat after landing the final blow, finally claiming a win after several failed attempts.

Felix rolled his eyes, grabbing a fistful of pretzels from the snack bowl his older sister, Rachel,  had left out for them. The living room table was cluttered with an assortment of junk food—chips, candy, soda—the works for any gaming night.

“Whatever, this game sucks anyway,” he muttered, though his competitive streak was clearly wounded. He dipped deeper into the pretzel bowl, sulking in defeat.

Y/N, still laughing from the high of her victory, nudged him playfully. “Don’t get salty, just get good,” she teased, grabbing her own snack of choice: gummy bears. 

Felix groaned, feigning indifference. “I need a break. My hand hurts.” He switched off the game, pulling up Youtube  instead. The familiar tunes of his favorite group, SHINee, began to fill the room.

Ever since one of his cousins from Korea introduced him to K-pop, Felix had been hooked. The choreography, the passion, the sheer talent—it was mesmerizing. And lately, he’d been practicing more than just his dance moves. His dream of auditioning for JYP was becoming a real possibility. 

“You’ve been practicing your pronunciation, right? Wanna keep going?” Y/N asked, noticing the slight tension in his voice. Felix had seemed more focused, more driven lately, but underneath that ambition was uncertainty—a vulnerability she hadn’t seen before.

Felix hesitated, but before he could answer, Y/N added, “Oh, wait! I need to show you my new painting.” She grabbed her phone, scrolling to the latest photo of her work in progress.

It was a lotus flower, blooming from the depths of a muddy pond. Felix stared at it for a moment, appreciating the symbolism. A flower that represents rebirth, resilience in harsh conditions. 

“I really like this,” he said finally, his voice soft with admiration. “Your brushstrokes are so detailed… it's amazing. I know that competition money is yours.”

Y/N beamed at the compliment, feeling a warmth settle in her chest. “Thanks. Any little bit helps. Trying to get as much free money for college as possible,” she joked, lightening the moment.

Felix chuckled, though the tension from earlier still lingered in his expression. He opened his laptop, playing around with his pronunciation notes. “Honestly, I thought I knew how to speak Korean pretty well, but when I listen to how fast the locals talk, it’s so different. But I have to try… I really want this.”

The uncertainty in his voice was palpable now. His dream of becoming a trainee at JYP was more than just a distant goal—it was an uphill battle, and he knew it. The doubt crept in despite his best efforts to stay confident.

Y/N’s eyes softened as she watched him. “You bring so much to the table, Felix. They’d be insane not to recognize your talent.”

A small smile tugged at his lips, a blush creeping onto his cheeks. He wasn’t used to showing this much vulnerability, but Y/N had always been the one to see past the walls he built. That’s why he cherished her support—it was real, unwavering. 

“Thanks,” he muttered, the tension easing just a bit as they shifted into their joint practice session. Y/N, though adopted, had always wanted to connect more with her Korean heritage, and learning the language alongside Felix had become one of their shared goals. It was a comfort, knowing that no matter what happened next, they were there for each other, even if they didn’t fully realize the depth of their bond just yet.

Felix took a deep breath, glancing at Y/N. There was something about her presence that calmed him, that made him feel like everything might just work out. At least, for now.

You paused for a moment, glancing over at Felix as he focused on his screen, his brows furrowed slightly as he corrected your pronunciation. It felt so easy, so natural, to be in this moment with him. But something about the ease made your chest tighten, a sudden awareness that this might not last forever.

That underlying fear haunted you both in ways you’d rather ignore. Things were bound to change; time would only push those changes forward. It was naive to think otherwise. Like seasons, you and Felix would grow, shaped by new experiences and separate paths. Still, it was a reality you both pretended didn’t exist.

Late-night gaming sessions became your escape. You fantasized about visiting him during the trainee program, imagining he’d somehow find time to indulge in the college life you both knew he’d never get to live. You clung to the delusion, and so did he, until reality began to shift, pressing its weight on your shoulders.

A week later, the shift became real.

“You got into the University of Melbourne!” your aunt screamed from the living room, her voice echoing down the hallway as she rushed to your bedroom doorway.

“That’s great…” you replied, nervous, your voice flat. Your gaze barely lifted from your laptop, where you scrolled through Pinterest, saving inspiration for your next art piece. Watching creative content creators passionately pursue their dreams only made your mind race. Was this the start of something great—or the beginning of a path leading to a bitterly unsatisfying life? Worst-case scenarios flashed through your mind, each more vivid than the last.

“Love, what’s wrong? Your uncle and I are so excited for you, but you don’t seem that way.”

“It’s not that, Auntie. I’m happy. It’s all I’ve been working for. I’m just… thinking about what I have to do to get there.”

“I understand, sweetie, but let’s take a step back and enjoy this moment. This is a huge accomplishment! Sit in it. Celebrate!” She placed a plate of fruit in front of you—her way of showing care, via strawberries. “I’m going to call everyone and tell them how amazing my love is! Going to the best school in the country to become a lawyer—how proud we all are!”

Before you could correct her, tell her you planned to double major in Law and Art Studies, she’d already scurried off. You wanted to shout that you didn’t dream of courtrooms and corporations fighting over copyrights. Your dreams leaned toward helping others, blending the creative skills you’d spent years honing with a career that made a difference.  If you conformed to what your aunt wanted, you’d likely end up defending multimillion-dollar companies that wouldn’t care if you lived or died. Instead, you want to become a public defender—a career that's emotionally satisfying but doesn’t promise a high quality of life.

Instead, you sighed, counting to five as you stared up at the ceiling, willing your nerves to calm before the anxiety could fully take hold.

Ding.

Lix: Sooooo… Did you hear back?

You: Yeah, I got in.

Lix: This is great! Why are you texting so cold? Lol, you should be proud. What’s on your mind?

You: It’s just so much. My aunt and uncle are great, but I’m thinking about everything I need to get done before I start, and I’m stressed already -_-

Lix: Hey, hey, hey, trust me, I get it. But we can only worry about what’s right in front of us. One day at a time, right? Right? I know I’m right, lol. Why don’t we just hop online and forget about all of this? You can lose again in Smash XD

You: You say that every time, Mr. Lee, and EVERY time I prove you wrong. Lmao. Ok, give me like 10, and I’ll get on Discord.

You smiled, setting your phone down. Felix had a way of pulling you out of your spirals, always knowing what to say to make you laugh—or at least distract you. For a moment, it worked.

But as you stared at your gaming setup, the heaviness crept back. Melbourne was your dream school—not just for its law program but for its vibrant arts community and the chance to live out both sides of your passion. Still, the thought of leaving behind the comfort of your life, and the people in it, especially Felix, was terrifying.

You couldn’t shake the fear of how it would change things. And yet, for now, you clung to the one thing you knew wouldn’t change: Felix would always be there for you.

Two weeks later 

The moments leading up to the audition were some of the most stressful Felix had ever experienced. This opportunity meant everything—a chance to change his life in an instant. Yet, doubts crept in like uninvited shadows. He knew how competitive the entertainment industry was. Thousands auditioned every year. Why would they take a risk on someone like him—a foreigner who doesn’t fit in with the natives?

He let out a heavy sigh as he stood outside the audition venue, his heart pounding against his ribs.

“Felix, listen to me,” Rachel, Felix's older sister, said, her voice steady, offering a small squeeze to his shoulder. “I know you’re nervous, but you’re ready. You’ve been working for this for so long. You’re not just some kid hoping for a shot—you belong here.” She gave him a soft but firm look, as if her words could wrap around him and hold him together. She had always been able to read him, her intuition cutting through his quiet exterior. Even when Felix couldn’t articulate his fears, Rachel could sense them.

Felix ran a hand through his hair, eyes on the building in front of them. “I know. It’s just... There are so many people here, and only a handful get chosen. What if I’m not enough?”

Rachel’s brow furrowed. “Stop overthinking. You’ve got the talent, the drive, and you’ve got yourself—something that no one else can offer. Go in there and show them why you’re our Sunshine.”

Felix tried to nod, but his nerves only seemed to heighten. The choreography he’d practiced relentlessly blurred in his mind. The moves, so ingrained yesterday, felt foreign now, as if his body had forgotten them entirely. He clenched his fists and closed his eyes, exhaling slowly.

This was his dream—his ticket to something greater than the predictable rhythm of Sydney life. He wanted to see the world, to experience everything life had to offer, and to channel that hunger into his newfound passion for dance. But standing here, under the weight of his aspirations, the pressure felt unbearable.

His phone buzzed.

Y/N: Good luck today! Show them the great person I already know you are. Let your light and warmth shine—that’s what will set you apart. I’ll talk to you later when we hop on Steam :D

He stared at the message, reading it twice, then a third time. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He could almost hear your voice, steady and encouraging, breaking through the storm in his mind. Those words quieted the chaos, grounding him just enough to take a step forward.

The audition itself felt like a blur. The music started, and for a moment, he was paralyzed. Then, like clockwork, the moves came back—sharp, deliberate, and confident. His body knew the choreography better than his mind gave it credit for. By the end, his chest heaved with exertion, but his heart swelled when one of the judges complimented his pronunciation during a short Korean self-introduction.

The waiting afterward was agonizing. Felix paced the holding room, his thoughts looping endlessly. What if he hadn’t done enough? What if this was the end of the road? Yet, there was a quiet reassurance that lingered—the memory of your words. You always seemed to pull him out of the mental traps he built for himself, giving him a clarity he struggled to find alone.

“Congratulations, Lee Felix. Please come to the back room to discuss the details of the trainee program.”

The words hit him like a bolt of lightning. He nearly leaped out of his chair, relief and joy coursing through him in equal measure. He couldn’t believe it—he’d done it. He was in.

Later, in the car, his parents’ cheers filled the air. His mom pulled him into a tight hug, her pride evident even as tears shimmered in her eyes.

“Felix, my son, I’m so proud of you,” she said, her voice choked with emotion. “I’m happy for you, but I’m going to miss you so much….”

Felix could feel the weight of her words in the silence between them. He knew what this meant for both of them—his dream was coming true, but it meant stepping away from everything he knew. His family. You.

He didn’t want to leave, not really. But he had no choice. He had to chase this dream.

When he finally got home, Felix felt the weight of the new reality sink in. He picked up his phone and typed a quick message to you.

Felix: You might as well have been my good luck charm. I got in. Details later :)

For now, Felix chose to live in the moment, holding onto the happiness of his success—and the steady presence of you in his life.

With just four months left before everything changed, there was a sense of urgency in the air, but tonight, the world still belonged to you both. The future was looming, but for now, it was all about enjoying the last moments of freedom before things got complicated.

Felix’s voice crackled through the phone, the tiredness evident in his tone. “I don’t know, Y/N. With everything going on for the trainee program... I don’t have time for this kind of thing.”

You leaned back on your bed, staring at the ceiling as you held your phone to your ear. “Felix, come on. You’re not gonna have many chances left to be irresponsible. This could be the last era of your life to just... let be. You deserve it. Plus, I’ve got leftover liquor from last time. You can pregame with me here.” You smirked to yourself, knowing your words might push him just enough.

Felix sighed, the sound almost exasperated. “I don’t know... I have so much stuff to do for the program. I’m so stressed going out would just add to it”

You rolled your eyes. “Ok. lol. Sounds like another day in your life. No offense. What’s one night? You’ve been working your ass off. Don’t you want to enjoy life while you can? I’m not saying we go crazy, but one night won’t ruin your future. You need to relax.”

There was a long pause on the other end, the only sound being Felix’s deep breath. “Okay, fine,” he finally said, with an almost reluctant chuckle. “You’re right. I need to live in the moment, right? Alright, I’ll come. Let me just check on Liv first, and I’ll be at your place around 10:30.”

“I knew you’d come around,” you teased, your voice light and playful.

A few hours later, after too many shots between the two of you, the night had spiraled into a chaotic, unforgettable high school party at Crystal’s parents’ condo. The place was packed with people, most of them barely legal, all drinking cheap beer and dancing offbeat to Kesha. You and Felix stuck together, navigating the crowd, laughing at the awkwardness of it all.

Felix’s voice came through the phone again, a slight smirk in his tone. “Is this really what we’re going to remember about high school?” he asked, glancing at the crowd.

You grinned, holding your cup up to the phone. “Maybe. But I think it’s the people, not the party. You’re not going to remember every stupid thing that happened, but you’ll remember the faces—the ones that were here for the ride.”

Felix sighed, his voice quieter now, as he watched the madness unfold. “I guess... I just keep thinking about how everything’s about to change. It’s hard to imagine how this will look in a couple months.”

You could hear the shift in his voice, the weight of it. You decided to take a different approach, trying to lighten the mood. “Hey, nothing stays the same. And that’s okay. That’s what makes moments like this so important. You’ve got to soak it all in while you can.”

Felix let out a soft chuckle. “You’re right. Yeah, I guess it’s kind of nice to know that we’ll have this to look back on.” His voice turned a little more serious. “Thanks, Y/N. For getting me to come out tonight.”

You smiled softly, even though he couldn’t see it. “Anytime. We’ve got to enjoy what we’ve got while it lasts.”

Felix’s voice softened. “Yeah, we do.”

The party was in full swing, the music blaring, drinks flowing, and chaos everywhere. You could barely hear anything over the chatter and laughter of your friends, but the tension between you and Felix was palpable. It had always been there, but tonight, it felt different.

Mike, drunker than most, slurred his words as he pushed into Felix. “When are you gonna finally make a move on Y/N?” He laughed, oblivious to the shift in the air, pushing Felix in your direction.

Felix rolled his eyes, but it wasn’t the usual playful response. There was something different in his gaze, something more thoughtful than you were used to seeing. The teasing continued, relentless.

“Sure, sure, I bet you won’t ever make a move at this rate,” Mike teased, turning his attention to you now. The conversation quickly shifted, and you couldn’t help but feel the eyes of everyone on you.

“You should just make the first move at this point. What do you have to lose?” Mike’s words hung in the air, and for a moment, everything seemed to freeze.

You hadn’t really thought about kissing Felix, not like this, not seriously. But in your drunken haze, Mike’s challenge hit something inside you. Maybe you should kiss him. After all, what was the harm?

Felix chuckled nervously, shaking his head. “No way, man,” he muttered, but there was an edge to his voice that told you he was conflicted. The idea of it seemed to hang in the air, pulling at something inside both of you. Something you hadn’t let yourself acknowledge.

Without thinking much further, you blurted out, “I’ll kiss him now. It’s really fine.”

Felix choked on his drink. The words left your mouth before you could stop them. Felix’s eyes widened in shock, his mouth slightly parted as if trying to process what you had just said. “Wait, what? You’re kidding, right?” His voice was tight, but there was an unmistakable flicker of something in his eyes, something that hadn’t been there before.

“You just said it,” Mike teased, a sly grin on his face. “Do it. You’re friends. It’s no big deal, right?”

Felix’s mind was spinning, and for the first time, he saw you in a completely new light. The way your dress hung from your body, the way you’d always laughed around him, but now it felt different, like everything was amplified. Felix blinked, his pulse picking up. He didn’t know what it was—whether it was the alcohol, or the way you’d teased him, or how suddenly everything felt so intimate—but he couldn’t deny it.

Felix shifted uncomfortably, suddenly hyper-aware of the space between you. His eyes flicked to yours, searching, but you were already moving closer. The alcohol dulled his usual caution. His mind raced, his heart pounding as your hand reached up to cup the side of his face. Everything in the room felt like it had stopped moving. His eyes landed on your lips for a split second, and in that instant, it was too late to turn back.

The kiss was soft, tentative at first, but it was enough to send a jolt through both of you. Felix’s hands instinctively found their way to your waist, pulling you closer. Something inside him—something he’d buried deep—flooded to the surface. It wasn’t just a kiss. It was everything you hadn’t admitted to each other. The way he felt about you, the way you’d felt about him for a while now, but never dared to say.

Your lips deepened the kiss, and the world outside of you two seemed to vanish. The other people in the room fell away. You were both lost in the moment, but it wasn’t just the alcohol that made your head spin. It was the way Felix kissed you, the intensity of it. The way your heart raced, not just from the thrill, but from the realization that this meant something more.

As you slowly pulled away, your face was flushed, your head spinning. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol, or if it was the fact that Felix had just crossed the line between friends and something else, something you didn’t know how to name.

“See? No big deal,” you laughed awkwardly, trying to cover the pounding in your chest with casualness.

Felix, still caught in the aftermath of the kiss, looked at you for a long moment. His voice was quieter now, almost hesitant. “Yeah... no big deal,” he echoed, but the way his eyes lingered on you told a different story. He wasn’t sure what had just happened, but he knew it had changed everything.

You both tried to go back to normal, but the tension between you was thick. You couldn’t help but notice the way Felix kept his eyes on you the rest of the night, his gaze occasionally flickering to anyone who seemed to show too much interest in you. You were too drunk to notice the subtle possessiveness in the way he glared at the guys who came too close. Felix assumed you only kissed him because it was him, and that was something he wasn’t ready to share with anyone.

As the night wore on, the games continued—Mario Kart, Super Smash Bros.—but the energy was different. Your competitive banter was laced with something unspoken, the kind of charge that buzzed between you both every time your eyes met. You tried to act like nothing had changed, but you could feel it in the air. So could Felix, though he didn’t dare to bring it up.

Eventually, the night ended, and in a blur of too many drinks and too many moments that felt too real, you ended up at your parents' condo. They were away for the weekend, and there was no way Felix would let you walk home alone—even if you weren’t drunk.

As you stumbled toward the door, Felix’s hand lingered on your back, guiding you with a care that was almost too gentle for the way he had acted earlier. The unspoken words still hung between you, thick with everything that had shifted between you two in a matter of seconds.

And somewhere deep down, you both knew that everything would be different now. You just hadn’t figured out if or how to deal with it yet.

Stumbling into your room, you both lazily kicked off your clothes and changed into your pajamas before slipping into the bed. The room was spinning less now, the alcohol haze from the night lifting, bringing some clarity to the situation. Felix lay beside you, feeling the overwhelming weight of the kiss, his mind spinning with thoughts he couldn’t push away. He felt guilty, especially if you had only kissed him because of peer pressure.

He tried to distract himself by doom scrolling through social media, but his head was still racing, and he just couldn’t shake it. The thought of losing your friendship over a stupid dare seemed like too much to bear.

“Hey…umm…” Felix sighed, turning to face you. “You didn’t have to do that.”

You glanced over at him, noting the distress on his face. “Do what?”

His heart was pounding, his voice tight. “Kiss me. You didn’t have to, you know? I just want to make sure… I don’t want to mess things up.”

You smiled softly, your gaze steady and reassuring. “Lix, if I wasn’t cool with it, I wouldn’t have done it. You know how stubborn I am.”

Felix hesitated, his chest still tight, unsure of how to respond. “I know… I just want to make sure, because I…”

You cut him off gently, your voice quiet but firm. “I hear you. But I enjoyed it.” You paused, your mind replaying the moment that felt frozen in time. “My only complaint? It was too short.”

Felix’s demeanor immediately softened. That magical ease you always had with him worked like a balm for his frayed nerves, the racing thoughts in his head calming at your words. He had been terrified that he might have ruined five years of friendship with a single reckless kiss, but now—now things didn’t seem so impossible.

“Well,” Felix said, a small chuckle escaping his lips, “I guess I owe you a second kiss one of these days.”

You smirked, inched closer to him, and whispered, “Why wait? Let’s make it ‘one of these days’ right now. YOLO, right?”

Felix laughed nervously, his heart doing a strange flip in his chest. His mind was still caught between the confusion of his emotions and the weight of the consequences of crossing this line. What was the point of pushing the envelope? Things were already changing in both of your lives; maybe you should just leave your friendship the way it was.

But all that went out the window the moment your lips met his again.

This time, there was no pressure. Just the two of you, lost in the moment. Your lips danced together, slow and intricate, matching each other’s pace. Before either of you knew it, you had shifted on top of him, straddling his waist, his hands finding their place on your hips, his fingers brushing against your bare skin.

Felix had touched you before, but never like this. The sensation sent electric waves up both of your spines, and the world outside of the two of you seemed to disappear. You pulled away slowly, your breath quiet in the stillness.

“That was nice…” Felix whispered, his voice barely audible as he pulled you back down beside him.

You snuggled closer, your voice soft and sleepy. “Yeah. It was. Can we do that again?”

Felix didn’t answer with words. Instead, he kissed you again, and again, and again, each kiss a little deeper, a little more heated than the last. Slowly, you both relaxed into each other’s embrace, falling asleep tangled together, content and peaceful.

Just two friends, sharing a moment, and nothing more….right?

______________________________________________________

Just temperature checking if people like this... If this is something that intrigues you. leave me an message in the ask box.

[silentsneezes]

Heyy me again… ahahah

Do you have any silco with allergies hc’s or maybe a k!nk Silco/Vander Zaundads fic?

Totally asking this with normal intentions, completely not obsessed or anything!

(Im gnawing at the bars of my enclosure i love your writing)

thank you anon!! trust me when i say i'm also gnawing at the bars of my enclosure... so here's almost 3k of sick v/ander and kink s/ilco

i'll probably continue this in the future, but between university and life things i haven't had as much time to write... so we'll see

anyways, this is set pre-everything in the show. you could read it as an au if you want!

The Last Drop on a Saturday is no fucking joke. Vander knows that full well, always double checking his list of opening tasks to ensure things run smoothly. Only a few hours after opening, the dimly lit, smoke-filled haven is already filled to its capacity. Earlier that day, there had been a boxing match held in a nearby arena, and it’s safe to say people are still riding that high. Vander picks up on arguments over bets that were won or lost, prideful drunkards boasting about how they’d been rooting for the champion all along.

The bar practically roars with the infectious excitement, only encouraged by the drinks the patrons continue to slam back. Vander doesn’t mind, he’s quite pleased with how popular his bar is, especially on nights where boxing matches occur. Everyone needs a good drink after a match, he supposes. Plus, the influx in business never hurts– people typically become more generous tippers the drunker they get. 

Vander works mindlessly as he pours drink after drink, zoning out to the sounds of raucous laughter, the clink of glass against wood, and the quiet kshhhh of the keg. The conversations are nothing more than a full-on-chorus, which has its pros and cons. 

On one hand, it allows Vander to zone out to the constant noise, letting himself work without second thought.

On the other hand, Vander feels like fucking shit. He’d been coming down with something the past couple of days, but he’d figured it wasn’t anything a few DayQuil couldn’t fix. Now, he’s beginning to realize that he was sorely mistaken in his initial dismissal of the cold. His usual charming grin doesn’t come as easily tonight, and when he wipes his brow, it’s not just due to the heat of the room. His skin is coated in a feverish sheen, his cheeks uncharacteristically flushed as he forces himself to work through his rising fever. 

The frequenters of the bars notice– at least those sober enough to– but they’ve seen this before. Vander’s tough. He’s the kind of guy who keeps his bar open for better or for worse, so when he’s sick, they just give him a look of silent understanding: he’ll be fine, he always is. 

As ‘fine’ as Vander might be, his movements are dulled by fever. He keeps moving, keeps working—filling mugs, passing shots, refilling drinks– functioning as if he’s on autopilot. His work is only interrupted as he hears the familiar drawl of his friend’s voice. 

“Is anybody home?” Silco asks with a slight smirk, looking Vander up and down as he takes a seat on the barstool closest to the sick man, observing his absent expression. Vander opens his mouth to reply, pausing momentarily to clear his throat before gruffly responding, “very funny, Silco,” sarcastically. He starts making Silco’s drink wordlessly, knowing exactly what the other likes. Vander doesn’t bother filling the silence between the two of them, letting the steady roar of auditory input wash over him. 

“Long day?” Silco questions, frowning as a nearby customer lets out a howl of laughter at his own joke, “I’ll bet you 20 gold coins he soils himself by the end of the night.” 

Vander finds it somewhat amusing how Silco always seems to take issue with the other patrons of the bar, as if he finds himself somewhat above this crowd. “I’d be an idiot to take you up on that,” Vander says with a tired grin, his lips barely curling upwards as he leans in, resting his weight on the bartop. He places the drink in front of Silco with a heavy thud, the glass almost too solid in his grip, as if it’s an anchor to keep him from slipping under the noise and fatigue. “You know how they get after boxing matches.”

“Oh, do I,” Silco replies, the words clipped, his voice carrying an immense judgement of those customers who lack any semblance of manners or public decency. He doesn’t like them, doesn’t trust them, but he does like Vander. 

Vander struggles to think up a response, his usual charm and banter replaced with a steady painful thrum threatening to become a migraine. The noise of the bar presses against his skull like a vice, and just as he finally manages to think up an adequate response, he feels it coming. A tickle in his nose, faint at first, but enough to make his breath catch as it buzzes through his sinuses. 

At first he tries to fight it, swiping at his nose roughly with the backside of his hand. His other hand searches his pockets for a rag, a handkerchief, anything. Unfortunately for him, the sneeze builds quickly. His eyes are forced to scrunch shut as his chest swells with an urgent, “hhHHHH-” and for a half-second, everything around him goes blurry, the pressure in his sinuses making his head swim, “hHHRRZZSCHHH’HUw!!”

Vander turns away from the bartop just in time, snapping forwards into his elbow with a resounding sneeze, one that grates his throat enough as to where he has to blink away a few tears. Silco watches with rapt attention, his abdomen pooling with hot attraction as he observes Vander’s broad frame nearly bend itself in two with the force of the sneeze. 

“Bless you,” Silco purrs, his voice low and sultry. The blessing practically rolls off of his tongue, and yet Vander knows it’s not just out of politeness. You see, Silco doesn’t just bless anyone. For him, offering a blessing is somewhat of a privilege, something one earns through continuous affection, and he and Vander are nothing if not affectionate. 

“I’ve got the whole damn package today—head full of cement and a nose that thinks it’s spring,” Vander mutters, barely able to keep the irritation out of his voice. Had he not known about Silco’s kink, he would’ve been entirely fed up with his body's need to sneeze. Except there’s a sliver of him that can’t help but relish the fact that he can make Silco squirm so easily. If he has to feel so utterly miserable, someone might as well enjoy it, right?

And he is miserable, nothing short of it. Silco, however, seems to be basking in Vander’s sickness, finding it difficult to resist the sight of his friend turned fuck-buddy turned… whatever it is they are now. 

“Why is it you insist on working when you’re sick?” Silco questions, knowing full-well the stubborn answer he’s about to receive– it’s the same every time. 

Except Vander doesn’t answer, letting Silco’s question hang in the air as he raises a hand to his nose. It’s back again, that bothersome, tantalizing itch that’s been wreaking havoc on his nose all night, “hhHHH’uh-”

At the sound of Vander’s hitch, Silco prepares himself for the imminent sneeze. Vander has never been one to have dramatic build ups when he’s sick– though allergies are an entirely different feat�� rather, his sneezes come on quickly with one to two hitches beforehand. 

Unable to find a rag in time, Vander settles for cupping a broad hand over his nose and mouth, “hHHMMPH’DSSXCHHhew!” The sneeze is barely muffled against his palm, and Vander can feel moisture threatening to slip through his fingers. He pinches his nose between his thumb and his forefinger, gathering the residual mess and moving to wash his hands. 

When Vander returns to the bartop, he sees Silco, his gaze intensely focused, waiting with that unsettling calm, as if he could pounce at any moment. Had the countertop not been separating them, Vander is certain Silco would be draping an arm around his waist and pulling him close. And god does he want that. 

Just as Vander moves to prop himself against the bartop again, he hears a drunken, “Oi! Vander!” and groans internally, straightening up and snapping out of his exhausted haze. The woman, a regular frequenter of the bar, leans against the other side of the counter with a casual air, “Get me something strong, but nice. I’ve got a lady to impress,” she says with a smirk. Usually, Vander would have the energy to engage in some sort of playful banter, perhaps asking the customer as to who she’s pursuing tonight. Instead, he rattles off a few drink options, giving her a sideways glance as she chooses the strongest of the drinks he’d proposed, “You sure? It’s got one hell of a kick.”

The customer dismisses his warning with a wave of her hand and a chuckle, “I’m feeling lucky today.”

“Liquid luck,” Silco tuts almost inaudibly from his seat, though it goes unheard by anyone aside from Vander, “what a foolish concept.”

Vander’s lips curl into a slight smirk at the sound of Silco’s words, but he forces himself to maintain focus. He has a job to do. With a sigh, Vander grabs a glass, still feeling the steady ache that only a cold can instill. As he’s about to start mixing, he feels that nagging sensation in his nose return, the familiar tickle building once again. He grimaces, trying to hold it back for the sake of not sneezing into a customer's drink, but his body has a different plan. His breath hitches involuntarily, forcing him to pivot away from the countertop without even setting the glass down first. He draws in a final, urgent breath before snapping forwards and spraying the tiled floor with an uncovered, “hHHRRRSSXCHHHh’eHw!” 

As the sneeze fades, Vander stays still for a moment, eyes squeezed shut, his body still catching up with the sudden burst of pressure. He forces himself to stand upright, tending to the moisture clinging to his septum with his sleeve. He’d usually have a bit more decorum when it comes to covering and utilizing his sleeve as a tissue, for the sake of germs moreso than any feeling of embarrassment, but he’s too fucking tired tonight. 

“Salud,” the woman blesses absentmindedly, watching as Vander composes himself enough to make her drink, “you look sick as a dog,” she comments. Vander just continues mixing the drink, replying with a halfhearted, “that’s never stopped me before.”

“Touche.” Luckily, the woman leaves the conversation at that, exchanging the drink for a few gold pieces and making her way across the bar back to the person she’s trying to impress. 

“She’s right, you look terrible,” Silco says matter-of-factly, drawing Vander’s attention back to him. His fingers trail along the rim of his now empty glass, his expression smug as he receives an eye-roll in response. 

Vander doesn’t have time to reply as another customer approaches the bar, and he internally curses as he turns away from the one person in the bar he actually wants to see right now. His head throbs, the dull ache in his throat turning into a tight, bothersome burning sensation. As he prepares a round of shots, every movement feels slower than his last, his limbs growing heavier as the evening progresses. 

Finally, after what feels like hours, there’s a lull in drink orders, and Vander has the opportunity to return to his conversation with Silco. He doesn’t bother with pleasantries, instead saying, “you’ve got a handkerchief, no?”

“I always do,” Silco replies effortlessly, a slight smirk tugging at his lips as he registers where this is going. Vander extends his hand wordlessly, becoming increasingly frustrated with his nose running like a faucet. 

“Use your words,” Silco tuts, though his eyes flick between Vander’s outstretched hand and his nose, reddened and irritated after being berated all day. 

“Silco,” Vander huffs huskily, evidently too exhausted to tolerate any sort of teasing, “give it here.”

“That’s no way to treat a customer.”

“Bullshit, you’re not a customer.”

“Hm, then what am I?” Silco asks, enjoying this far more than he should. His hand slips into the inner pocket of his vest, extracting his crimson red handkerchief from its resting place. He keeps it hidden in his lap, waiting for the perfect moment to submit to Vander’s request. 

“A brat.” 

Vander’s hand remains outstretched, waiting for Silco to drop the dominant act and give in. Fuck me Vander mentally curses as the itch swells in his nose again, forcing his wide nostrils to flare in protest. It’s like Silco was waiting for this moment—the vulnerability of Vander, flushed and slightly out of breath, his hitches almost an invitation. 

“I know you always hhhHave one on you. Give it to m-hHHH-me dammit,” Vander’s previously annoyed tone is replaced with one of urgency. Both he and Silco know damn well he can’t hold back for shit. 

Silco watches, waiting until the very last second before pressing the handkerchief into Vander’s palm. His fingers brush across the calloused skin of Vander’s hand, which is nearly twice the size of his. Vander clutches the handkerchief, turning on his heel and doubling over as a sneeze tears through him, “hHHHGGSXCHHH’Hh’ugh!”

“Bless you,” Silco purrs once again, silently cursing the countertop separating him from the sick man. He can feel his arousal making itself known, pressing against the tight confines of his pants, “You’ll be making that up to me, you know I don’t share–” he begins, but Vander cuts him off. 

“I’ve been pudting on a show for you all nighd. Don’d be so greedy,” he mumbles huskily, the congestion in his voice dulling certain consonants. Vander gives his nose a strangled blow. It’s unsuccessful at first, eliciting a huff of frustration from the man. With both hands holding the handkerchief over his nose, he takes a deep breath, steeling himself for the next attempt. The second noseblow is much more productive, clearing his airways as best they can be with a cold ravaging his nose.

“That’s better,” Vander acknowledges, tucking the– already soiled– handkerchief into his back pocket and moving to wash his hands again. Silco, having been observing Vander’s every move, shifts to relieve some of the pressure in his pants. 

“It’s a shame you have to work,” he comments idly, knowing full well that Vander could’ve called someone in to cover his shift, “I’ve heard a good fuck is quite the cure-all for colds.” 

Silco’s bluntness never fails to catch Vander’s attention. People typically shy away from expressing their kinks, especially one as bizarre as sneezing, but Silco treats it as he does anything that can bring him sexual gratification: without shame– though don’t be mistaken, he’s eager to indulge in humiliation when given the chance. 

Vander knows exactly what Silco is alluding to, weighing the benefits of closing early or calling someone to take his place. His stubbornness and grit can only last so long, it seems, as he leans heavily against the bartop again. 

Grinning as he recognizes the slight defeat in Vander’s expression, Silco presses on, “Would it be so terrible to take a night off? I’d stay, of course, to attend to your needs.”

Vander looks up, his eyes traveling from the smirk on Silco’s face to his slightly unbuttoned top– had his chest been so visible before, so appealing? His view of Silco’s slim waist is blocked by the counter, but he’s almost certain Silco’s hard to some extent; it really only takes a few sneezes to get him going. After all, Vander’s are his favorite. 

“Fine,” he agrees stubbornly, glancing at the clock. Typically, The Last Drop would stay open well into the night and through the earliest hours of the morning, but it’s only 11:30 and Vander feels like dead weight. He leans down, searching for the bar-phone he keeps next to the especially expensive liquors. Upon finding it, he dials an employee's number despite the guilt ringing through his mind. He’s not one to give up easily, and he’s certainly given one hell of a fight to make it through this shift, but the promise of a quieter room and Silco’s attention is enough to sway him. 

“Jay? I’m sorry to ask, but–,” Vander pauses as his breath hitches, the itch suddenly returning with a vengeance. He holds the receiver as far away as possible, ducking to the side and clamping his other hand over his nose, “hhHHHGDTSCHHH’huew!” 

Apparently, Jay could still hear the utter desperation of the expulsion from over the phone– and was left to imagine the mess it made, and trust, it was messy– and is quick to say, “I’ll be there in twenty. Try not to drop dead by then.”

TBC…

as always, any reblogs, tags, and comments are very much appreciated!! i experimented with a different writing style with this fic, so any feedback is appreciated as well :3

[yeonmuse]

ᥫ᭡ f!reader x yang jungwon ── 𝒢enre. Uni au. fluff, non idol enha. feats. ot7 [reqs are open] ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓁ibrary 🎧

authors 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈 I honestly have no idea where this came from I just thought of anti social Jungwon and Anti social reader coming together and this is where it got me. This is part of admins Enhypen university Series

ᦓynopsis Jungwon is a film major that finds honestly complete captivated by an antisocial girl with a love for the stars and a passion for music

TAGLIST CLOSED FOR THIS SERIES

The final score

Today was the final day which Jungwon and yn would spend together working on the project together. Needless to say he wasn’t sure what would happen after this, yes the two of them had become closer but he had his doubts. Would she still want to hang out with him after tonight? He sat silently tapping his pencil against the table as the ticking of the clock continued to wind. His nerves screaming at him to for once go against his thoughts and go for what he clearly wanted.

His thoughts were interrupted as yn slipped into the room like always, she held two drinks in her hand just like the last night they worked with one another.

“It’s so cold out.” She places the drinks on the table before taking off her coat, Jungwon realized it almost immediately and he hated that he did, but she was avoiding his gaze.

“So I already recorded the tracks. Should we start by working on their placements?”

“Look at me yn.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” He caught her, she couldn’t look at him, not after last night. It would only make things worse for her, it would only solidify the way she felt for him after last night.

“You haven’t looked at me once since you came inside yn, please.” His pleading made her heart hurt her chest, she sensed a hint of hurt in his voice but she couldn’t get herself to face him. So without a second thought Jungwon took it upon himself to turn her head and make her look at him.

“Better.” Her breath caught in her throat as she was forced to now face him, unlike her he didn’t shy away from her gaze, he stared directly into her eyes.

“Um, so the soundtrack.” She clears her throat before returning her attention back to the task at hand. She remained like that with him for the rest of the night. Stealing glances at him or chasing the subject when he talked about anything other than the project at hand, they worked at it for hours until they had perfected it. Then there was nothing more to discuss once the final adjustments had been made.

“Why do I feel like you’re trying to push further and further from me no matter how much closer you try to get?” The question caught her off guard, but it wasn’t like it was something she could avoid.

“What do you mean..?”

“The entire time since the day we met we've been trying to get closer to you, Sunoo became friends with you faster than I ever could, you grew accustomed to the others in just an hour..but with me..”

“Jungwon..”

“What about me is different from them?”

“You make me feel how the stars used to make me feel..” It was clear by Jungwons expression that he was completely confused.

“When I was younger, I fell in love with stargazing. It was calming on nights where all I could do was overthink or bombard myself with useless thoughts. It became an ongoing thing, listening to music and writing beneath the stars and I felt, I felt happy..like I wasn’t alone. I could look at them and hope for things I'd never hope for on a normal day, but at some point the sky became void of them.” Jungwon had no idea where she was going with this, but everything in him was more than sure she felt the way he did.

“The way I would feel when I look at them, is how I feel with you, calm, Seen, heard, like I'm not alone. But you also make me feel things I've never in my life experienced with Jungwon. You make me nervous. I’ve never ever in my life felt like this towards anyone before because I always made sure that I was alone. With the others it's so easy…but with you, I don’t want your friendship Jungwon, I like you.”

Jungwon had no idea what to say, he was completely stuck, he had never expected for her to be sitting right here confessing to him that she liked him.

“I like you too.”

Previous part | Next Part | Series Masterlist

🔖@jwonistic @jiamini @sol3chu @vixialuvs

[drowning-in-paragraphs]

may you please make a part 2 to drunk call??🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽 I can't end like that😔

PART TWO

jude bellingham x exgf!reader

PART ONE DRUNK CALL

PART THREE DRUNK CALL

a/n: this was (and took) sooo long that I had to make another part! And thank you for requesting the second part, I had so much fun continuing the story!

Jude never called.

You waited, even though you knew it was foolish. You waited through long, empty days, staring at your phone like it held the answer to all the questions you couldn't let go of. Wondering a lot of things, all of them having to do with Jude.

The first day after that night, you barely slept, listening to every quiet sound in your apartment, convinced that maybe, just maybe, you’d hear his knock at the door. On the second day, you kept your phone in your hand, glancing down every few minutes, your heart leaping at every notification, every small vibration. And by the end of the week, you found yourself laughing bitterly at your own persistence, at how much you’d let yourself hope, even when you knew better.

You had been telling yourself, every morning as you woke up, that that day would be different. That you wouldn’t let your mind wander to that quiet promise he’d made, his voice so soft you could still hear it, could still feel the warmth of his hand in yours as he’d said it. You knew it wasn’t true even as he’d said it—knew he wouldn’t call, couldn’t call, because that’s what breaking up meant. Still, hope clung to your heart, relentless, like some foolish thing.

So you waited.

You waited through the hours that turned into days, each one bringing fresh reminders that he was moving on, that his life was a current pulling him further and further from you. You’d check your phone, not expecting to see his name but hoping all the same, holding your breath every time it buzzed. And each time, your heart sank a little deeper.

But you waited still.

Jude didn´t call.

You tried to text him. Countless times. In those late, lonely hours, your fingers would hover over the screen, struggling to find words that could hold even a fraction of everything you felt. It was always something casual, something lighthearted, as if you could fool him—and yourself—into thinking you were fine, as if you didn’t feel like your heart was breaking all over again each time you realized he was really gone.

"Hey, just wanted to check in. Hope you’re good." (Delete.) Too casual.

"Miss you. Just… thought you should know." (Delete.) Too vulneable.

"Hi, I saw your last game, you were amazing!" (Delete.) Too nice?

Every message felt hollow before it even left your fingers. What good would it do, anyway? He’d made it clear in his silence. You’d both known it couldn’t work, that your lives were pulling you two in opposite directions. He’d warned you as much, his words gentle but firm, saying things like, “We’ve got so much ahead of us, love. You’ve got your path, and I’ve got mine. If life wants, we´ll find each other again.” But he’d said it like it was for you, like letting you go was some form of love you weren’t supposed to understand.

And as the days turned to weeks, you started to believe he was right.

Honestly, you didn’t even know how to feel. Sad, angry, disappointed, embarrassed?

Each emotion tangled into a painful knot in your chest, and you couldn’t tell which feeling hurt the most. Sad, because you missed him with an ache so deep it felt like part of you was missing. Angry, because he’d let you go so easily, without a single call, without even trying. Disappointed, because you had clung to the quiet hope that maybe he still cared enough to reach out. Embarrassed, because despite everything, you’d allowed yourself to hold on, to wait like a fool for something that would never happen.

Yet, the world wouldn’t let you forget him. Every corner you turned, you saw him—on billboards, in match highlights, in advertisements... He was everywhere, as though the universe itself had made a cruel joke of your pain, forcing you to watch him live on, shining as bright as ever. You saw him laughing on a teammate’s story, his smile warm and carefree. You saw him in interviews, composed and confident, speaking about his achievements and his ambitions as if nothing else mattered. He looked fine, perfectly whole, like you’d never been a part of his life at all.

Each day, the silence grew louder, the hope dimmer, until your patience twisted into bitterness, then resignation. You had to live. You had to let him go, even if every part of you was still holding on. And so, with a heavy heart, you made the only choice you could: you blocked him, a decision that felt both too small and impossibly final. Then, you went to your contacts, your thumb hovering over his name, the one you still couldn’t bring yourself to eliminate. This time, instead of calling him, you did something different.

With a deep breath, you pressed delete, erasing the last way of contacting him you had. You knew his number by heart, every digit burned into your memory, as if letting it go would somehow let him slip further away. But maybe that’s what you needed—to let go, truly let go, so you could finally breathe. Even if you tried to call him or add him again, you had several figures to let you rethink before committing a huge mistake.

Afterward, you sat alone, staring into the silence of your tiny apartment, feeling the weight of the finality settle around you. You ran a hand over your face, feeling the exhaustion from pretending, from hoping, from clinging to a future you could never have.

On the other side of that silence, Jude felt your absence as a steady, relentless ache that he couldn’t shake. In the quiet spaces between training, in the dead of night after a long game, he felt it most—the weight of your absence, the hollow space where you’d once been. He knew he should call, that he should reach out, hear your voice one last time. But he couldn’t bear it. He knew you´d wait for him if he gave you even the faintest reason to. And it terrified him, the thought that you’d hold onto him, sacrificing parts of your own life for the sake of his.

So he let you go, telling himself it was the right thing to do, that this was the most unselfish choice he could make. But every time he tried to believe it, he felt like he was betraying himself, betraying the love you’d shared.

He tried to lose himself in his career, in the game that had always been his one constant. But no victory, no goal, no applause could drown out the emptiness he carried inside. He wanted to tell you, to let you know that his silence wasn’t indifference, that his heart was breaking just as much as yours. But every time he picked up his phone, he’d set it back down, the words he wanted to say sticking in his throat.

He saw the world as a series of checkmarks and achievements, but none of it felt as bright, as warm, as real as those quiet moments he’d had with you. Those nights lying together, the way you’d laugh and roll your eyes at his bad jokes, the way you’d look at him as if he were more than he believed himself to be. He missed you in a way he didn’t know how to explain, in a way he didn’t know how to live with. But he’d made a choice, and he’d told himself he would stick to it.

Months passed, and you did your best to move forward, carving out a new life, piece by piece, in the wake of his absence. You kept yourself busy—classes, late-night studying, juggling shifts to cover tuition. It was exhausting, but you almost welcomed the tiredness; it kept you grounded, kept you from lingering in the past. While studying, to pay your debts, you worked in a prestigious catering company, the kind that only served high-profile events, but even as your skills sharpened and your responsibilities grew, your heart never felt as full as it once had.

You’d see glimpses of Jude’s life in the rare moments you allowed yourself to look. Despite blocking him, it was impossible not to know what he was up to—his success was plastered everywhere, his goals, his accolades, his bright future. Each headline was a bitter reminder that he was out there, rising, while you remained here, trying to pick up the pieces.

One day, your manager pulled you and your coworkers aside and briefed you about an upcoming event, hinting at its significance. “It’s one of the biggest events we’ll handle all year, so be at your best. We’re talking global importance,” she said, eyes alight with excitement. She was sparse on the details, but the way she spoke made it clear that this wasn’t just another upscale gathering. You nodded along, more focused on memorizing the itinerary and service details than wondering who would be there.

The day arrived, and you went about your work, clad in a crisp uniform, doing your best to stay professional. The space was dazzling—high ceilings, crystal chandeliers casting a warm, golden glow, and tables meticulously set with silverware that gleamed under the lights. You were given a tray of fizzy and sparkling drinks, instructed to serve as the event unfolded.

That’s when you felt the electric buzz in the air, a shift in the atmosphere that suggested someone important had arrived. You saw a few of your colleagues exchanging glances, eyes widening as if they’d just spotted a celebrity. Curious, you glanced around, only to see a coworker hurriedly approaching you, eyes wide and speechless as he leaned in close.

“It’s Real Madrid,” he whispered, and your heart dropped.

Real Madrid.

Your hand tightened around the tray as your mind started racing. Real Madrid was here, in this very room. Which meant…

You felt your heart stutter, panic settling deep in your chest as the weight of that realization washed over you. You knew Jude would be here. He had to be. It was a big event, a high-profile event, one he wouldn’t miss. And now, after all those months of silence, after all the nights you’d spent waiting, he was right here, closer than he’d been in what felt like a lifetime.

You felt your feet move as if they were no longer your own, your body frozen between the urge to stay and the overwhelming need to flee. You tried to steady your breathing, tried to tell yourself that it was just another job, that you’d handle this as professionally as any other event. But the mere thought of seeing him again, of standing so close that you could hear his voice, see his face—how could you possibly prepare yourself for that?

Your teammate’s eyes were on you, watching the shock that must have painted your face, and you felt a sense of dread twist in your stomach. You wanted to say something, to ask if he’d seen Jude specifically, if you’d have to serve him. But even opening your mouth to speak felt impossible, the words caught in your throat. Instead, you swallowed hard, pressing your lips together as you took a shaky breath.

Somehow, you had to power through this.