#( //. sorry for the wait! i hope this is okay beloved!

[justme315]

Family 4/?

First part:

Previous part:

⚠️WARNING⚠️

Fear, mention of trauma, gore (in a memory!!), panic, curse words

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Mark sat there quietly, looking down at Lizzie, still thinking about her brother. It hurt him deeply to imagine a teen-, well barely a teen looking after his little sister all alone. Mark also had an younger sister and couldn't imagine the same scenario for himself.

James tried soft talking to Lizzie from the distance while making some food. He decided to prepare a salad, it sounded the most reasonable, since he didn't really know what Lizzie could eat - lettuce and some other light vegetables didn't sound like something that could harm the poor little girl. His head was filled with thoughts as well but he didn't want to make it obvious.

Lizzie didn't answer any of James words, as she held the plush toy tightly and raised her timid ocean blue eyes up to Mark from time to time, only to look away as soon as she cought eye contact with him.

She was really afraid of him. She liked James better.

She secretly prayed that her brother would come very soon to take her back home. Well, the humans didn't seem as bad as the stories made them look but she knew that must have been a trick! She was a big girl and she knew that she couldn't be fooled!

"Mark, please call my work and let them know I can't come today" James repeated his request to his husband.

"Oh, yeah, right" Mark mumbled as he was roused from his reverie. He stood up too quickly which triggered Lizzie and made her flinch and hug the toy elephant more tightly.

Marks eyes widden slightly and he looked down at the girl with pity.

"Sorry little one" he whispered in a soft voice. It sounded unnatural, he had such deep and masculine voice that when he tried to sound soft and gentle it just sounded so forced and.. fake.

Lizzies eyes never meet his, nor did she answer. He waited for a secound, hoping that she would acknowledge that it was okay or something but after a moment he realized that would never happen. He just looked at his husband, hoping for his support but James was too concerned on making the salad and didn't pay him much attention. It only made Marks heart sting more. The man left the room to go call his beloveds work and make up some lie about him being sick.

Lizzie held back tears as the bigger, taller, more scary looking (and sounding) man left. She didn't want the humans to see how scared she was. She was big and brave! She knew her brother would save her! Right..?

She couldn't help but let out a sob. She didn't like being anywhere without Cain. Where was he?! She was terrified of the humans and hoped that it was all a dream. Well, more likely a nightmare.

James whole body stiffen when he heard the incredibly quiet, tiniest sob. His heart shattered again. He turned around to look at Lizzie in less that a secound.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" He spoke in his usual sweet voice as he stepped closer to the table. Lizzie raised her tiny eyes filled with tears and looked up at him.

"Oh, honey.." he signed, as he sat down on the chair "It's alright, everything will be okay".

James tried to comfort her the best way he could but he had trouble doing so without wanting to reach out to her and hold her in his arms (or rather palms).

Lizzie felt so alone. So scared. So tiny. She just needed some comfort. Any comfort. Any at all.

James seemed friendly enough, she thought. He didn't seem like a monster. He was.. nice. And she needed to be comforted.

She reached her hands up like a toddler wanting to be held. She hoped James would understand the gesture.

He did.

James moved slowly, not wanting to startle her any more than she already was. His heart beat fasten as he reached down to the girl. She flinched once his hands touched her but she didn't back away. She stood still with the same gesture, obviously scared but non the less needing to be held and comforted.

The humans fingers slowly grabbed her small body and raised her up from the table. James mind was a mess, he was so scared that he would do something wrong, that Lizzie would be even more terrified, that he wouldn't be gentle enough and actually he could hurt her. It didn't change the fact of how happy he felt at that moment. He knew Lizzie was scared, he knew she thought of him and his husband as monsters and yet she trusted him enough to want to be held by him.

Lizzie tried not to let more cries out as she was raised from the table, being held tightly by fingers that were literally her size. She was scared to look down, the fear of falling growing inside of her. Her whole body trembled and she knew there was no point in hiding that - the giant must have also felt it. Her mind created scary scenerios, like from the stories Cain would tell her. She started to regret making the decision of asking to be held when-

James brought her to his chest, hugged and comforted.

"It's alright Lizzie, I've got you. You're going to be okay, I'm here" he spoke so softly that it was almost too nice sounding to be true. Lizzie remembered the same feeling, though she didn't remember where was it from. She remembered someone holding her just like that and singing her tunes. She snuggled closer into her fa- into James' chest and began to calm down. Before she knew it she was asleep.

James couldn't help but smile once he realized that Lizzie had fallen asleep on his chest. He was really happy that she trusted him enough and felt comfortable enough to let her guard down. He could have sat there, holding her for all the enternity. She was his little angel send from the heavens. She needed him. And now he was completely sure, since the first time he held her when he helped her get untangled - he needed her.

He was rushed from his thoughts when he heard Mark calling out for him.

"James! Help me!" Mark yelled form a different room just a secound after there was a bang.

"He broke the drawer again, didn't he?" James signed quietly with a tired expression. He stood up but soon realized that taking Lizzie with him would surely wake her up. He lowered her on the sofa. Once his fingers had to get away from her they felt empty. As if something, or rather someone was missing. James wouldn't have said that out loud but he started to care for the little girl way more than he should.

He left the room, going to help his husband.

Soon enough, this was Cain's chance.

The boy didn't really know what was happening outside, in the kitchen but he knew damn well that his sister was in danger. The human beans have left. This was probably his only chance at getting his baby sister back.

He rushed out from the walls and looked around, trying to spot Lizzie. As soon as he did his heart sank.

She was laying there, not moving, eyes closed on the sofa.

Cain's breath quickened, his hands trembled and his eyes widen with horror.

He immediately remembered the scene..

Little Cain and Lizzie were with their parents. They were happy.

"Take care of your little sister, while we go borrowing Cain" his father told him.

"We will be back soon" his mom said, while she hugged him.

"I will take care of her, I promise I won't dissapoint you daddy" Cain looked up at his dad with a smile. The man putted a hand on his sons head and messed his hair a little.

"That's my boy."

Hours passed. Mommy and daddy weren't coming back. Lizzie was crying from being hungry and tired. She never could fall asleep without her dada singing her tunes and without mommy's goodnight kiss.

Cain was starting to worry. Where were they? They never borrowed for such a long time. He didn't know how to handle Lizzie. He needed his parents!

Finally, when Lizzie was so tired that she fell asleep from exhaustion, Cain decided to go and check on his parents. It was still some time before sunrise, the human must have still been asleep.

Cain knew the tunnels. His daddy tough him already two times how to borrow! He was a big boy, after all. He needed the skill to help his parents.

He ran to the counter, but stopped as soon as he heard the humans voice.

"Fucking pests!" He yelled out angrily "If they weren't so damn struggling I could have sold them and now what?! I have to clean all this mess!"

Cain didn't understand what was happening. Why was the human up? What pests? There were no pests in the house. Where were his mommy and daddy? What the hell was this monster cleaning up after? WHERE WERE MOMMY AND DADDY?

The boy waited untill he heard the humans footsteps getting further away. His heart was racing, his eyes started to fill up with tears.

"Momma? Daddy?" He whispered, peaking out from the tunnel. What he had seen.. was undescribable.

The little boys eyes widen as he saw that the whole countertop was painted red. He knew that this wasn't no paint nor leftovers of some food. The countertop was stained with blood. His heart skipped a beat.

"Momma..? Daddy..? Where are you..?" He sobbed out. He thought he had already known the answer but he would have not accepted it. He had to find his parents. Lizzie needed them. He needed them.

He rushed to check if his parents were maybe hiding somewhere around the countertop. His body trembled and he almost puked once his shoes were stained with blood.

His parents were not there.

Finally, he went to the edge of the countertop. Maybe they hid on the floor? Away form.. whatever had happened there.

It was a mistake that he had looked down.

There was a giant trash bin just below him. It was filled with paper towels stained with blood. There was also..

"DADDY?!" Cain sobbed out as he was unable to hold back tears now.

"No, no, no, no, no!!" The little boy cried out as he looked at the crushed corpse of his father. The man was missing 3 of his limbs. His face was deformed. He was dead. Daddy was dead.

The scary part did not end there. Right next to the boys father there were parts of his mommy's body. It was not complete. Her head was missing. Her fucking head!! Her favourite sweater was all covered in blood and her own organs. I will spare you the terrifying and heartbreaking details.

Cain could have done nothing but puke and cry. How could that have happened?! How could they have been cought?! He needed them! They had to be alive! This had to be a nightmare! It had to be!

Looking at his daddy's, crushed, deformed, lifeless face he knew that it was all too real. That it was the humans that were responsible for.. this..

"I'm so-sorry d-daddy.. I won't d-diss-dissapoint you, I'll pro-protect Lizzie" he promised the corpse of his father, remembering their last conversation. Daddy was supposed to come back home. Mommy was supposed to come back with him.

The little boy heard the footsteps of a human reappearing into the kitchen.

"I l-lo-love you.. Goodbye m-mommy, goodbye daddy" he sobbed out the last time, looking at the devastated corpses, running away back into the tunnel.

He run as fast as he could back to Lizzie, crying, whimpering, occasionally vomiting. His shoes left red stains in the tunnel.

"I will protect Lizzie" he promised to his parents.

Cain stood there unmoving, his heart beating heavily as he started at Lizzies body, lying on the enourmous sofa. It couldn't have been too late. He needed to protect her. She had to be alright.

He rushed with his another hook onto the floor and run as fast as he could. He couldn't loose his sister. She was the only one he had left. He promised he would protect her. He fucking promised.

He was shaken. His head started to create scary scenerios as he ran. His eyes filled with tears but he couldn't loose hope.

He threw his hook onto the sofa and started climbing as fast as he could. He reached the top in no time. As soon as he did he ran to his sister.

When he saw that she was breathing a weight was lifted from his chest. He shook her to wake her up.

"Lizzie! Wake up! We need to get away from here!" He yelled out, scared that the giants could come back any moment.

Lizzie opened her eyes uncertainty and when she saw Cain she hugged him tight.

"You came!" She grabbed onto her brothers chest "I'm sorry I took your hook! I will never leave again!" She spoke.

Cain didn't have time for this nonsense now. He grabbed her onto his arms.

"Not now Lizzie. I'm not mad. Let's get outta here" he spoke to her, petting her head.

"Get on my back and hold on tight" he commanded.

As soon as James came back into the kitchen he knew something was definitely wrong. He didn't yet know what, but something was.. off.

Soon he figured out that it must have been two tiny children on a rope hanging from his sofa.

"Holy moly.." he whispered with wide open eyes. Lizzie looked at him for a second and them looked away with shame, while the bigger boy had fear and anger in his eyes. The borrowers got onto the floor before James could have had any reaction. They ran under the sofa.

Cain's heart was beating fast. That was close. They had no tunnels under the sofa. They had to get away quickly somehow! They had to get away before the humans get to them and they will spare their parents fate. He held his sister close to himself, trying not to show how frighten he actually was.

Soon enough Mark accompanied James in the kitchen door.

"Why are you standing like that? Where's Lizzie?" the bigger human asked his husband who was visibly shocked and stunned.

As Cain heard the humans voice under the sofa he looked at his sister with rage. His eyes showed her of how much he dissaproved of the humans knowing her name.

"She's.. under the sofa. With her brother, I suppose.." James answered his husband in almost a whisper, never taking his eyes away form the furniture.

"Then let's move the sofa and get them out form under it" Mark said, rushing to get closer to the sofa.

"Wait!" his partner had stopped him "Those are kids. They're hiding because they are scared. If we force them out we will only play into their fears more"

James' reasoning made Mark stop in his trucks.

"Yeah, your probably right.. So what's your plan?"

"You should go to work, I'll handle it, I promise" James kissed his husband's cheek, pointing out at the time. Mark was frustrated at the fact that he couldn't have an impact on how the story with the tiny kids continues untill 5 pm but he knew his husband was better with kids anyways.

"Love you" he said.

"I love you too" James answered.

James though for a couple of minutes before sitting down at the floor, still leaving plenty of space between himself and the sofa.

"Lizzie? Are you alright?" was his first question. He spoke in his soft voice, hoping that Lizzie trusted him enough to.. come back to him. Or at least answer.

Cain listened carefully to all the humans words before, but emotions blurred most of them out. He held his sister close as they stood next to the wall, hiding. He was still mad that the humans knew his sister's name. Once he realized that one of them left he signed with a little bit of relief. It was easier to get away from one human rather than two, but it still was a unfair fight.

As he heard the human speak directly to Lizzie his blood boiled. The human was cruel enough to joke about caring about the little girls well being. As if he wasn't a freaking monster.

Cain gestured to his sister that she can not answer.

James sat there quietly for a moment, knowing that it would be a hard day for him.

Winning childrens trust is a unfair battle.

"It'll be a long day" James signed.

---------------------------------------------

Thank you for reading and waiting for this part! After over a year, you get the promised update. I hope you enjoyed it and can't wait for the future parts!! Love ya 💙 (especially those who really waited for this for a long time (sorry for that))

[writing-the-stars]

Moonlight Miracles

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Fem!Reader

Summary: On the night of your escape, you lose the love of your life. Or so you thought.

Warnings: Angst (Nothing's changed), Hurt/Comfort, Fluffy Ending, Typical Vampire Diaries Violence, Death. Let Me Know If I Forgot Something

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: I have been working on this story for TWO YEARS!!! I'm honestly just relieved to have it finished finally. The title admittedly sucks, but I believe the story makes up for it. Thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoy. Have a wonderful day!

Masterlist | TVDU Masterlist

The fabric of your underdress billows at your feet as the crisp night air washes over you. You cling closer to the trunk of the towering White Pine– the rough bark tugging at the fabric of your garment. You hope to shroud away in the depth of the forest, hiding from the unwanted gaze of your village in the shadows of the looming trees. Your hair wafts gently in the breeze and a shudder travels down your spine as the chill of the night seeps into your bones. 

You wait, patiently, for your betrothed in the same location you met him every night for the past four full moons, hiding in secret as you exchanged solemn vows and acts of romance– planning for this day to arrive. Your deerskin bag rests at your feet, filled with the goods you plan on bartering for your passage into your new life. Away from the cruelties of Elijah’s father and the prohibitory life your father has arranged for you. Away from the danger of the men who turn into beasts who have taken so much already. You have lived through 20 winters– it is time you take your life into your own hands. 

“Hello, my love.”

The silence that encapsulated you is suddenly broken– a sharp gasp breaking through your lips. You turn swiftly, finding your beloved with an endearing smile gracing his lips– looming in the shadows of the trees. A smile adorns your face at the sight of him. 

“Elijah, you frightened me.”

He emerges from the shadows– the pale moonlight illuminating his porcelain skin. The unobstructed view of your betrothed robs the smile from your lips– something was wrong. While he appeared to be the same man, there was a chilling air of danger around him– one that was never there before. 

“I’m sorry,” the brunet apologizes, gliding over to you, “I did not mean to alarm you.” 

His hand is frigid as he places it against the downy surface of your cheek– the alarming contrast of temperature making you flinch away from the very touch you used to crave. 

“Elijah, your hands are freezing,” you proclaim to the Mikaelson, attempting to gather his large hands into yours to provide them some warmth. You are confused to find the usual rough texture of his calloused hands has now been made smooth as if he had never labored a day in his life. 

Elijah’s laughter pulls you from your musing and the warm familiarity of it eases your concern. You would never grow tired of the sound of his joy– it is a sound that has comforted you through many sorrowful evenings. It is a sound that reminds you, despite the struggles the two of you face, everything will be okay. 

“What?” you inquire, curious of the moment’s motivation for your favorite sound, but he simply shakes his head, knowing how useless your endeavor is. His body will never be able to emit warmth again. 

The Mikaelson looks down at you with his keen eyes, studying all the details he was unable to perceive before. The unique blend of color swirling your eyes, the distinctive pattern of strands that design your hair's texture, and the subtle lines and contours that create the structure of your face. A chill creeps up your spine as he examines you– the pools of chocolate brown shine with an intensity, a darkness lurking within their depths. It unsettles you. Your hands, instinctively, retract from his, your feet placing a small amount of distance between you. A frown draws on Elijah’s lips at your sudden shift in attitude. 

“Y/N, beloved, what’s the matter?”

There is a sharpness to his voice– one that holds a lurking threat, sending shivers down your spine. You are conflicted about your next course of action. All of your body is on high alert, telling you to run from the danger before you, but your heart urges you to stay– only seeing the man that you love so dearly. Elijah takes a step toward you, attempting to close the distance you have subconsciously put between you, but you continue to add more to that distance. The Mikaelson grows frustrated with your newfound prudence of him– the darkness within growing stronger. 

You watch, fearfully, the animalistic nature in which he moves toward you– a predator stalking its prey– as you finally come to a disturbing conclusion. The man before you is not the man you fell in love with many moons ago. There is a dark evil living inside of him now, consuming every fiber of the man you knew before. Adrenaline courses through your body, tears painting your cheeks, as you realize the danger that you are in. You run. As far and as fast as you can– desperate to escape the creature taking over your betrothed’s body. 

You run to your home– the same place you were desperate to flee mere hours ago– only to be stopped by Elijah’s sinister figure, suddenly in front of you again. Eyes widened, you come to a halt, astounded by his swiftness. You step back, in an effort to get away from him; however, your foot catches the skirt of your underdress and you stumble back, landing on your rear.

Elijah approaches you menacingly– eyes blood-red, shining in the moonlight while tiny black veins dance underneath. A gasp of horror escapes you at the sight. In all of your winters, you have never seen anything as terrorizing as the display before you– whatever your beloved is now, it certainly is not human. 

“W-what are you?”

Something breaks within the Mikaelson, seeing you tremble in utter fear at his feet. It pains him to watch you, the great love of his life, be absolutely petrified of him. 

The monster subsides, retreating back into the depth of his soul and, for a moment, you see the man you fell in love with break through the darkness. Your heart softens as you stare into the tender umber eyes that stole your heart moons ago. You slowly reach out to him– frightened that if you move too swiftly, your beloved will disappear and that creature will resume its place. 

Your hand never meets him as a guttural cry tears from his lips– face contorted in the most grisly display of abject agony. Elijah falls to his knees, the blood-soaked tip of a blade piercing through his chest. You scream for him as if that will somehow undo the act that has been done.

“What did you do,” you cry out in horror as you look to your sister who stands horrified– hands shaking feverishly. 

“Y-you weren’t in the room when I woke, so I-I grabbed Father’s blade for protection and went to look for you. When I found you, y-you seemed frightened, so I thought he was attacking you. I-I did not…,” your sister stutters through her tears, realizing the gravity of what she has done. Her first reaction to your danger was to stop the thing that was hurting you; however, she did not want to kill the Mikaelson boy.

A sob rips through your throat as you cradle his pallor face in your hands. His blood seeps into the garments of your dress, horrifyingly warming your body from the crisp chill of the night air. 

“I am sorry,” your sister cries, bile rising in her throat, “I thought I was protecting you.”

Another sob wracks through your body as you clutch his lifeless body to yours, willing life back into him. You know it’s a useless endeavor, but you have to try anyway.

“Leave,” you command your sister, unable to stand her presence any longer. She took the love of your life away from you and had the audacity to grieve. 

“Y/N, I-”

The sickening sound of your father’s blade tearing through Elijah’s body once again as you pull it from his chest leaves your sister silent. The action makes your stomach churn as you shove the hilt into her chest, “Just go.”

Your voice is dark– heavy with the hatred you now hold for her. Because, in spite of the creature Elijah had become, you still loved him with every fiber of your being. To you, he was still the same man whose winsome smile charmed you the moment he wielded it on you. The same man who always strived to make the impossible happen for you just to see you smile. The man who was willing to leave the family that he loved and the life that he knew just to be with you. He was absolutely devoted to you and you were to him, willing to give him everything you have, everything he could ask of you. Now he is lost to you forever– the hole in your heart being the only remnant left of the love you shared. 

-*-

You stand in front of the Mikaelson home, unaware of how you came to be before the residence. You are certain you walked the distance, but you have no recollection of leaving the forest. Nor are you aware how long you have been standing in front of the wooden dwelling.

“Y/N,” a voice calls to you, luring you from the dazed state you found yourself in. The figure of a man appears before you, one you soon recognize to be Klaus. Concern is etched into the features of his face at your disheveled state. The tear stains blemishing your face and your soiled, bloody garments not signifying a good thing. 

“He’s gone,” the words push past your lips, your voice dry and void. A numbness courses through your veins robbing you of feeling anything else. You believe it to be a blessing from the gods above. The nothingness is preferable to the torment of mourning him.  

“Who?” Klaus inquires, hands grasping your shoulders in an attempt to keep you steady. You appear seconds away from crumbling, only adding to his unease.

The silence intensifies as you struggle to force your mouth to shape those dreaded words.As the silence grows heavier, the more indefinite the Mikaelson’s worry for you grows. He knows of the secret love affair you have with his brother. Initially, he was adamantly opposed to it; with your families being rivals, he knew the fury his father would unleash if he discovered the betrayal. But as he observed you, his perspective began to shift. Witnessing the gentle way you treated his older brother—the tenderness, the unwavering care, and the joy you brought into his life—Klaus realized that you were the best thing for his brother. He came to cherish you as he does Rebekah, and seeing you in such profound despair deeply unsettled him.

You can only shake your head, paralyzed by the weight of the unspeakable truth that clings to your tongue, refusing to be voiced. The fear of solidifying such a grotesque reality makes you hesitate. The blond gazes past you into the darkness, his eyes searching for some trace, some hint of what has transpired. 

“Y/N, where is Elijah? Did he meet with you?” Klaus questions once he has confirmed there is nothing hidden beyond you. 

Your lip starts to quiver as the dam holding your emotion begins to break. With a shuddering breath, you manage to utter, “He’s dead.”

The words hit you like a physical blow, and your knees collapse beneath you, unable to bear the crushing weight of your sorrow.

“Elijah. He’s dead.”

You sob as the second coming of your grief crashes over you with a force even more devastating than the first. A raw, piercing pain tears through your chest, shattering your heart with the finality of the truth. The sobs that wrack your body are deep and relentless, leaving you utterly inconsolable. Lost to the world around you, you are entirely engulfed by the consuming abyss of your sorrow. 

The third eldest Mikaelson son stands in disbelief. His mind struggles to comprehend the meaning of your words. How could his brother be gone? That shouldn’t be possible. It defies all reason, especially given the curse that should protect them. Yet, the raw, palpable intensity of your grief casts a shadow of reality over the implausibility of the situation.

Klaus gathers your trembling form into his chest, his heart aching with each ragged breath you take. He desperately wishes he could offer you an explanation, something to ease the unbearable pain that clutches at your soul, but he's unsure if he can. Unsure of the nature of vampirism– doubtful of its functionality altogether, given the depth of your sorrow. The Mikaelson is at a loss for how to comfort you, grappling with the profound helplessness of the moment. However, he is certain of one thing. If his father were to see you weeping in his arms, his wrath would be uncontrollable. So, Klaus carries you back into the woods where he lets you sob until every tear is spent and you have nothing left to give. As he holds you, he scans the shadows of the towering pines, almost expecting his elder brother to emerge with one of his infuriatingly calm reassurances. But the forest remains silent, offering no solace beyond the embrace of the darkened woods.

Until. 

“Y/N.”

The achingly familiar voice pierces through the suffocating silence, cutting straight to your heart and freezing you in place. You hold your breath, paralyzed by the fear that this fleeting sound might be an illusion—your mind’s desperate attempt to soothe the unbearable ache constricting your chest. Yet, despite the gnawing doubt, your ears strain with desperate hope, yearning for any sign, any hint of the voice’s reality, clinging to the faintest possibility that it might be real. 

“Y/N, my love.”

You release the breath you have been holding— eyes drifting to the blond Mikaelson, seeking confirmation of the impossible. When you find Klaus’s gaze fixed beyond you, you know that this must be real. That he must be real. 

You turn to face the man you lost mere hours ago, stunned by the miraculous sight before you. There, bathed in the gentle glow of the moonlight, Elijah stands as impeccably whole as he did before the night's horrors unfolded. His chest, the place where your father’s blade had torn through him, now unmarred. His eyes, which had once struck fear into your heart with their cold, sinister gleam, now hold a profound, unwavering love.

Klaus releases you gently, allowing you to approach his brother. 

“Elijah?” you call for your beloved— voice barely a whisper. You fear anything louder may cause him to disappear. 

He takes a step towards you, the movement graceful and deliberate, “It’s me,” he replies, his voice steady and reassuring.

You reach out tentatively, still uncertain if this is merely an apparition. But as he draws nearer, his hands grazing your skin— his cool touch leaving a wake of sensation in its path— the sheer reality of his presence overwhelms you. A sob of profound relief and unspoken hope bursts from your chest as you envelop him in a desperate embrace, clinging to the tangible warmth of your beloved.

“You’re here,” you cry out, pressing Elijah as close to you as physically possible, uncaring of the discomfort of the fabric digging into your skin. You cling to him with an unwavering grip, anchoring yourself to the Mikaelson and vowing not to let him slip away from you once more.

“I thought you were gone,” you cry into his chest, your voice muffled by the fabric of his tunic, “I thought I lost you forever.”

Elijah's arms encircle you with a tenderness that matches your own desperation, holding you just as tightly. “I’m here, my love. I’m here,” he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm to your shattered heart.

You pull back just enough to gaze up into his umber eyes, your voice trembling with disbelief, “How—how is this possible?”

Elijah's lips curl into a gentle smile as he brushes a strand of wind-swept hair from your face, relishing the chance to hold you close once more.

“I am stronger than you know,” he says softly.

You stare at him, your mind a whirlwind of confusion as you struggle to reconcile the living, breathing Elijah before you with the haunting image of his lifeless body. Your fingers roam over his face, his hands, every part of him within reach, desperately seeking the tangible reassurance that he is truly real.

“Elijah, I… I saw you… You were dead,” you stammer, your voice quivering with confusion, “How can you be here?”

His expression is one of gentle understanding, “I know, my love. I am not entirely sure myself, but I promise you, I am here. I will always come back to you.”

Klaus observes the reunion silently, a rare smile touching his lips. “It seems the universe isn’t ready to part you two just yet,” he says softly, his eyes reflecting a depth of unspoken emotions.

Elijah turns his gaze towards his brother, gratitude shining in his eyes. “Thank you for looking after her, Niklaus.”

Klaus nods, stepping back to grant you both some much-needed space. “Just make sure to keep her safe, Elijah. Father won’t be pleased to learn of this.”

Elijah’s eyes return to you, his resolve unshaken. “I will,” he promises with unwavering certainty. “We will find a way to be together, my love. No matter what it takes.”

You feel the warmth of his words seep into your bones, dispelling the lingering chill of the night. You rest your head against his chest, the steady beat of his heart reassuring you that this is real, that he is real. You allow yourself to fully embrace the reality of the moment, embracing the hope and love that Elijah’s return has rekindled within you.

Taglist: @catmikaelson20 @jennyamanda8 @tsukilover11 @gamarancianne @hazgold @devotedlycrookeddonut

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[rita-repulsa-ke]

flowers for agatha pt2

follow up to this

“Tada!”

“Wow, more flowers, that’s…fantastic.”

“Look closer.”

“…”

“Wellllll?”

“….belladonna, wolfsbane, nightshade…lilies, those are a nice touch, foxglove…that’s actually kind of…”

“Take your time.”

“…sweet. Thank you.”

“Ags, you’re blushing.”

“I am not.”

“Okay, if you say so. But you like the bouquet?”

“I do. I mean, it’d be better to have access to the full plant, but this is still actually…”

“Go check the garden.”

“…oh.”

“Mmhmm. Well, I am the original green witch. The least I can do is grow my love her choice of deadly plants.”

“I, uh. …good job.”

“Aaaagatha.”

“…love you.”

“That’s better. You know, I like it too. A garden of Death.”

“I hope that wasn’t a pun. ….You know we’re eventually going to get run out of town again, right? And by eventually I mean, in a few days?”

“Why in a few days?”

“Oh, you know how people get about two unmarried women living alone. We’ll end up getting blamed for milk going sour or calves being born with two heads, that sort of thing.”

“…and those things might happen because…?”

“Ritual side effect.”

“Right. …You know, sometimes I’d like to stay somewhere longer than a week.”

“Why?”

“You know, beds, laying around in bed—roofs are nice too—“

“For a personification of the natural order, you’re strangely hedonistic. Anyway, I like traveling.”

“You mean you hate sitting still.”

“Same thing. …I do really like the garden, though.”

“I can make you another one.”

“…you know, the ritual would probably be stronger if I waited until the summer solstice…”

“That’s not for a few weeks.”

“Yeah.”

“…oh, I see. …I’d like that?”

“Mm.”

“Hey, Agatha, you’re doing something nice.”

“…don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“Yes, love. …It is very sweet though.”

“Rio, stop.”

”Sorry. It’s just so rare.”

“…thank you for the flowers.”

“You’re welcome, beloved.”

For something romantic, read A Dance With Death or for something older and a little silly, consider rain check

[testing-tranquility]

Trass.

hi :)

[doodle-girl]

OH MY GOD I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS??????? LET'S GO?!?!?!??!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!!!!!!

[dvrast]

@averrse. . . continued.

he thinks kaz might actually hit him if he starts humming. they're supposed to be hiding, after all, quiet as mice and twice as subtle, tucked high above their mark's meeting place for, oh. . . two hours now ? see, jesper knows he can be a bit restless. dramatic, even, sometimes, but other times the constant thrum beneath his skin hurts to keep buried ; torn - fingernails - shredded - knuckles kind of hurt, and it just sits there, right under his sternum. thu - thump, thu - thump— trying to bounce your leg without making a single sound is quite difficult, isn't it ? he stills.

a glance at kaz, the perfect picture of composed, always, though jesper doesn't miss the way he shifts his bad leg every now and then just shy of imperceptible. jesper starts gnawing on his thumbnail again. he tastes blood. he needs— he just needs to—

lesser men might flinch at the first heavy sound after hours of silence, swallowed hard as a stone, but jesper only blinks, gaze pulled back in the other man's direction as if called to heel, ripple to ripple. the words take a moment to sink in. [ some part of him is watching, waiting for more when there isn't any. bad habit. ] a frown begins to burrow its way into his face, careful, wary, still waiting, but jesper doesn't need to be asked twice to fill the silence. “   alright ?   ” he says, slow, and— what is this ? is this a test ? now ? “   another night in, then.   ” as if there were many more. the smallest shake of his head, turned down and away, back towards the still - empty space below them. begging for an interruption, an excuse. “   if there is one. . . you don't think there's anything to be had here, do you. you— you know, i spend my money on more than just card games. you know that. and you're welcome, for keeping the tables spinning, and all the little the pigeons pecking their little beaks into your club, by the way. ”

[sistertotheknowitall]

Danny is Some Guy with a not so secret admirer.

Part four? Post #four? I don’t know, none of these are exactly in order. Post one, post two, post three.

——

By the time Tim opened the door, Danny had his coffee made and handed to Mia at the register. He resolutely ignored her smug face and went back to making the other orders.

Tim had been a regular long before Danny had started at the coffee shop but it was three days into Danny’s third week when Tim had stumbled in at eight a.m. and did a double take upon seeing Danny. A very obvious double take followed by intense staring before Mia had cleared her throat. The blush that lit up Tim’s face was only rivaled by the one on Danny’s.

He had never had anyone openly stare at him before.

Mia had been insufferable ever since.

It also didn’t help that shortly after their first meeting Tim had started taking his breaks at the little coffee shop. It’s been three weeks, nearly a month and Wayne Enterprise’s CEO went from a bi-weekly regular to an everyday one. (Danny wondered if he should be concerned for the man’s caffeine intake but he only had the one cup every time so probably not.)

Originally, Danny had no plans to talk to Tim. It seemed obvious the guy had a crush on Danny if the constant looks over his laptop were anything to go by and Danny didn’t want to encourage it. Danny barely had time to make new friends let alone start a relationship.

There was also the added problem of what was quickly becoming his bat stalkers. How do you explain to someone that you were being watched by Gotham’s vigilante’s for no reason? (Or worse because he had made a poorly timed sleep-deprived comment.) Danny didn’t think you could without seeming suspicious.

Incidentally though, Danny’s plan went out the window when on a slow afternoon as he was cleaning tables and passed behind Tim. Once he saw the article the other man was reading he snorted.

Bruce Wayne and The Batman? Could This Be A New Romance For Gothams Most Beloved Billionaire?

It was one of those gossip rags that printed things like: Elvis: alive and well and Superman: a mild mannered farm boy? It was all nonsense.

Danny asked Tim why he bothered with the site and Tim responded that he found it amusing to read and that his family had a group chat where they sent the articles to each other.

“Okay. But Batman? Really? Your dad could do so much better.”

“You don’t like Batman?” Tim asked. Danny had slid into the chair next to him and shrugged. “I respect what he does but for as intimidating as he is, he also seems a little silly.”

Tim had given him an incredulous look and Danny hadn’t given him time to ask for an explanation, “and his kids can be just as rude. Like that flying monkey one.” Tim choked on air and Danny politely waited for him to calm down. “Kids? Wait - flying monkey one? Which one -?”

“The one always doing back flips with the blue bird symbol. He’s also a dick that gives hypocritical lectures about fighting.” Danny wouldn’t say he hated the guy but he wasn’t sure how many more lectures he could endure before going ghost and fighting him.

Tim had turned to Danny completely and was watching him with a look of disbelief, “you mean Nightwing?”

“Is that his name? Imma call him Dickwing.”

Tim had started choking again, this time Danny patted his back hoping to help. Yet it was all for not once he kept talking, “I think I’ve only had positive interactions with the one who looks like a walking red flag.”

“Red flag? Do you men hood-?”

“No, although he is definitely a red flag, I mean the other Red one. I’m sorry, I don’t know all these peoples names yet.”

“Danny!” Mia called.

Danny stood and patted Tim, who looked a little shell-shocked, on the shoulder. “Well work calls, see you later Mr. Drake-Wayne.” As he walked away he heard Tim mutter “it’s just Tim.”

(Tim for his part, placed his head in his hands and thought, well at least I have his name now.)

After that first interaction Tim stopped playing the lurker and started to actually talk to Danny and vise versa. Danny never asked if he still had a crush on him, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

Unfortunately, their growing friendship had only encoraged Mia as she happily sang “your boyfriend’s here!”

Danny, very maturely, did not stick his tongue out at her. He did however flip her off under the counter like an adult.

[milksnake-tea]

━━ fear not the road untaken .

Sunday hadn't spent long with the Stellaron Hunters before boarding the Express, but the memories he'd made with them were priceless. One quiet day in the Express's cabin, while reflecting on his experiences with the Hunters, you appear to visit him.

astral express!sunday x gn!stellaronhunter!reader

contains: sunday used to be a stellaron hunter, teasing, FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF THIS IS THE CUTEST THING IVE WRITTEN SO FAR, SUNDAY IS DOWN BADDDD AS HE DESERVES TO BE BITES FIST I MISSED THIS SO BADDDDD, not established relationship sunday just has a massive crush on you

word count: 2.06k

a/n: happy drip marketing yall. you all get a sunday fluff piece. as a treat. also yes i am completely and totally sane. (THIS IS THE MOST SELF INDULGENT FIC IVE EVER WRITTEN I AM SO SORRY GUYS)

taglist: @sh0jun , @themoderatelyawesomeninja , @xphantasmagoriax , @rainswept , @lucensei , @akutasoda , @naraven , @scribs-dibs , @apathicace , @flurrina , @tragedy-of-commons , @cakechase , @kiiyoooo

“Sunday, we’re going out to Belobog for a bit. Wanna come with?”

Heeled boots still in the midst of a step. Feather-like hair shifts and tousles as he turns his head. At the invitation, gold melts, sapphires glitter, and a gentle smile warms his lips.

March is a blessing, he thinks. She is bubbly, kind, and always manages to light up whatever room she steps into - in that regard, she is not too unlike his beloved sister. Although her ability to plan ahead leaves much room for improvement, he cannot deny that it was her presence that made his transition into a Nameless much easier than it would’ve been.

Although, truthfully, he’d expected more resistance from her - out of everyone, she seemed to be the most traumatized by the Charmony Festival Disaster, and she also had more of a distaste for Stellaron Hunters than the others. But surprisingly, she’d come around to him, and welcomed him into the Express with open arms - and a lot of food. He swears, every time she’s come back from a trip, it’s another sweet or drink shoved into his arms - not that he’s complaining, though.

“Thank you for the invitation,” he begins, then rests a hand over his chest as a reflex. “But I’m afraid I’ll have to refuse. The last expedition has left me rather exhausted - and as you know, I don’t fare well in cold weather.”

Dan Heng nods in understanding. He’s never been a man of many words, and for that Sunday appreciates him. He rather likes straight-forward people, who aren’t afraid to say their mind - perhaps that’s why he’s grown to adore both the Express and the Hunters so much.

“Is there anything you want us to bring back?” pipes up the Trailblazer, dog-like eyes shining as they lean over March. “Like, sweets or whatever?”

Sunday bites back a chuckle. Somehow, word had gotten around that Sunday had quite the sweet tooth. He doesn’t know who started it or how they found out (he has his suspicions on March), but ever since the trio has been dragging him around to various planets and encouraging him to try the local desserts.

He wonders if he’s gotten cavities yet. He hopes not.

Maybe he should check again, at a later time.

“That Rye Bread Iceberg you brought last time was rather enjoyable. I’d like to try it again.”

March and the Trailblazer brighten at his words. “Okay, on it!”

Dan Heng only hums his acknowledgement before turning to leave the parlor car. “Let’s go,” he advises the others. “You know Seele doesn’t like to wait.”

Sunday has never personally met this Seele (the Trailblazer describes her as a crass but kind-hearted warrior), but her fury is enough to whip both March and the Trailblazer into shape. It isn’t long before the trio is waving him goodbye as they descend into the frozen planet, and he also bids them farewell.

And then it is just him, and the conductor.

A small sigh leaves him as he sits down on one of the many couches. He wasn’t lying when he said he was exhausted. Fighting - or any physical activity, for that matter - isn’t exactly his strong suit. Even during his time with the Hunters, he’d stayed behind the front lines, acting as a pseudo Kafka with his carefully crafted words and tuning abilities.

That’s one of the few things about the Hunters that he prefers over the Express - they didn’t force him to hike through deserts and jungles and mountains and Xipe knows what else. All they did was throw him off a skyscraper in the name of the script (he’s pretty sure Elio just wanted to see if he’d actually fly or not).

Sunday blinks, realizing just what had just passed through his mind. Then he sighs with a smile, leaning back into the red plush of the couches.

Only a few months since his fall, and he’s already beginning to think as weirdly as the rest of them.

“Sunday, are you alright?”

Sunday glances down to see the conductor waddling by his feet.

Pom Pom is… strange, no doubt - for whatever reason, Dan Heng fears them and has advised Sunday to not anger them at all costs. Their past is shrouded in mystery, but Sunday finds himself drawn to the conductor. Perhaps living most of his life in a fever dream like Penacony has warped his perception of what is normal and what is not.

“I’m fine, thank you.” He shifts on the couch to make room, but the conductor shakes their head.

“Are you sure? Pom Pom saw you laughing to yourself,” they fret, tapping their nubby hands together anxiously. “Have you been sleeping enough?”

Sunday crosses one leg over the other, and rests his hands over his knee. “If you’re concerned about my transition from Penacony to reality, be at ease. The Hunters have practically beat a proper sleep schedule into me.”

Pom Pom yelps in shock. “B-Beat?! They beat you?”

“Not literally,” Sunday hastes, instinctively reaching out a hand to calm the conductor. “It was more akin to… ominously threatening checkups. Although, there was this one time-”

He sees the look on Pom Pom’s face, and decides to stop it there. He fears they might break out sobbing if he continues.

“Nevertheless, rest assured that I am sleeping at an appropriate time,” he finishes reassuringly. His practiced smile pays off as the conductor gradually calms down, albeit worry about the Hunters’ methods still lingers.

“Alright, if you say so, Sunday.” They look around uneasily. “Do you want anything to drink?”

Sunday waves his hands hastily. “No, I am alright, thank you-”

“He’ll have some tea.”

Pom Pom jumps with a shriek and Sunday’s wings puff up. A familiar laugh ghosts his ear, and immediately Sunday’s face brightens.

“What- What are you doing here?!” Pom Pom quickly hides behind one of Sunday’s slender legs, hugging it like a lifeline. Sunday places a hand on their head to calm them as he turns to the hologram with a warm smile.

“At ease, conductor, they’re a friend.”

Your holographic form glitches in and out of reality. There’s a thin blue filter over your appearance, but other than that, everything is the same as he remembers.

“Hey, angel,” you coo, leaning your elbow on his shoulder as you sit besides him. Its weight is not the same as it would be in reality, but the presence is enough - a small, barely noticeable tingle that has his heart fluttering and his wings following in suit. “How’s life as Nameless? Do you miss us yet?”

Sunday laughs gently. “It has only been two weeks since I left the Hunters. I’m afraid I haven’t had the time to miss you all.”

You pout playfully, sticking out your tongue.Even though parts of you chip away and reappear, and your form isn’t stable, Sunday can’t help but be as captivated by you as he was when he was still among the Hunters’ ranks. Where the projection fails, his tinted memory fills in.

“Silver Wolf misses you, although I doubt she’d actually say it,” you say, taking a lock of his hair and twirling it around your finger. “Has she visited you yet?”

Sunday stutters a bit before weakly batting your finger away with his wing. “No, I’m afraid she hasn’t.”

“Hm.” You smile at his attempt to brush you off. Letting go of his hair, you instead opt to tug lightly at his cheek, earning a squeak from the Halovian. “That’s weird. Maybe she was too shy to speak up.”

“I-” Sunday rubs his cheek when you finally let go. Embarrassingly, his wings jump to shield his face, an unfortunate reflex he’d yet to curb. “I suppose she was…”

He hears you hum, and he lifts a wing to peek at you. His cheeks feel hot - no, that’s an understatement, the entirety of his body feels as if he’s in a fireplace.

“Give her my regards,” he finally breathes out, thanking the Aeons for his training in keeping his composure. Sure, it ultimately fails whenever he looks at you, but at least he’s able to fix himself quickly enough… or at least, he hopes that’s what it looks like.

“You didn’t answer my question though.” Propping your elbow on his shoulder again, you rest your cheek in your palm. “How’s the Nameless life treating you?”

“It’s chaotic,” Sunday admits with a fond sigh. He relaxes into the couch once more, feeling himself sink into the plush. Briefly, he’s tempted to lean his head on your shoulder, but given that you’re a holograph, he holds himself back. “But it’s fun. The Nameless have been kind, and the planets I’ve visited… It’s nice, to see the universe as someone other than a wanted criminal.”

“Wow. Thanks.”

Sunday would apologize, but considering that it’s you he’s talking to, he doesn’t feel the need to. After all, you’ve said worse to him, and him to you.

“You know what I mean,” he chuckles. “To be honest, though, the Express and the Hunters aren’t so different.”

He hears Pom Pom squawk indignantly, and again he ruffles their fur to calm them. Turning ever so slightly to your hologram, he gazes at you with adoration and fondness swelling his heart.

“To the both of you, I am forever grateful. If it weren’t for your kindness, I’d be rotting away in an alley somewhere. I wouldn’t be where I am today.”

All distaste for the Hunters fades from Pom Pom as they giggle bashfully. “Aw, Sunday… You don’t have to thank us. We were just doing what the Nameless do.”

You nod in agreement, reaching through his wing and poking his cheek again. “Conductor’s right. No need for thanks, birdie.”

“Still-” Sunday makes a sound like a startled bird as you poke his cheek harder, squishing it against the rest of his face. Underneath his coat, his primary wings strain with the urge to flutter and twitch, while his secondary wings are held back by sheer willpower. The only sign that they want to flap so badly is with the tiniest of tremors.

“None of that,” you chide him gently, tapping him lightly on the plush of his lips. “We’re just glad you’re happy - right, bunny?”

“Who’re you calling bunny?!” Pom Pom protests, steam puffing out of their head while steam threatens to escape Sunday’s face for completely different reasons.

Before you can reply, however, your form begins to glitch out, flickering in and out of reality at a higher frequency. With an annoyed click of your tongue, you stand up.

“Looks like Silver Wolf isn’t happy,” you comment, brushing off imaginary dust from your clothes. Taking one step so that you’re fully in front of Sunday, you lean in so that your projected nose barely brushes against his. “I have to get going now. You have my number, so text me if you need anything, okay? Or if you want to catch me up with your travels, you can always call me.”

Sunday’s voice feels lodged in his throat. With a subtle gulp, his Adam’s Apple bobbing ever so slightly, he manages to speak with an even voice.

“Okay,” he whispers, his voice almost a whimper. He wants to explode.

You smile fondly, and duck in to peck at the corner of his lips. The buzzing of your holograph morphs into electrifying lightning, surging into his veins, puffing up his feathers and making all of his hairs stand up and sending his already tapping heart into a frenzy. His body freezes into a statue, and all coherent thoughts melt away into a haze that is both ecstatic and shocked.

By the time you pull away, his wings are flapping erratically and his entire body is dyed in a rosey red. His mouth opens and closes like a fish, but all words die on his tongue and he is left blabbering like a fool.

You laugh again, eyes crinkling so beautifully he swears he’s ascended.

“If that’s how you react, I wonder how cute you’ll be when it’s the real deal.”

And then you’re gone, vanishing like a sweet dream in a flurry of pixels, leaving Sunday there to dazedly touch his lips, and then where you’d kissed him.

And then he smiles, giddily, and his halo practically glows as soft, love-stricken giggles begin to leave him.

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[cloneboywonder]

I LOVE SUMMER I LOVE CRAFTS

[ghostradiodylan]

I know I always choose to spend extra time with people I’m not interested in, like I’d definitely go with them to a deserted office to charge our cell phones, like no other outlets exist in the entire lodge. And smile at them when they tell me my favorite podcast is for perverts (probably the same one we’d have listened to in the van, through my earbuds that I offered to share, which would mean we’d have to sit really close to each other and the person I don’t like at all could critique my favorite things while we listen). And I’d definitely predict the jokes they’re about to make before they make them. And go to a party I said I wasn’t going to because they want me to. And look at them with soft, twinkly eyes whenever they talk. And kiss them during Truth or Dare. And tell them they can hold my gun if they’re nice to me and about my ass’s bank account. And make them specifically go with me to do potentially dangerous stuff. And yes-and them by calling myself ‘Ryan-Ryan’ when they refer to themselves as ‘Dylan-Dylan.’ And ask to be signed up for a class for them to teach me about technology. And disregard my own innate skepticism and level-headedness to cut their bitten hand off because they told me to. And tell them AND ONLY THEM that everything is gonna be fine. Those are all things I would certainly do with someone I’m not interested in at all.

But hey, he says one line about maybe not liking anyone IF you choose the path for that to happen. So yeah, that certainly outweighs any other canonical evidence. It’s definitely the Rylan shippers who are projecting and no one else.

For those who say that Ryan is clearly uninterested in Dylan:

Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

[rockingbytheseaside]

omg, I am quite literally in love with your work.

pls I cannot tell you how frickin ecstatic I am when I read your stuff 😭 like I’m Fr Rolling on the floor and stopping every five secs bc of the butterflies-

AND! I saw that your asks are open!! (If I misread/misunderstood then I’m so sorry and just ignore this) I was wondering if you could do Harbingers x reader when they find reader quietly weeping- like reader thought they were alone and didn’t wanna burden them :3 romantic if you would !!

no pressure ofc!!!! fr I love ur stuff sm like I’ve been reading ur stuff OVER AND OVER😭😭😭

(bshdhsgdhagjds Okay, let me just hold in my tears- that’s so kind of you anon! Sorry for making you wait, I hope this is something similar to what you wanted) 

✦ How they comfort you when you cry

Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche, Pantalone, Childe

Sometimes, your days might feel bitter, and sometimes the weight of your inner struggles can accumulate into a somber heap of self-doubt. Whether it was a minute inconvenience that resulted in your dampened mood, or stressful memories of the past – the reasons behind it fade into insignificance. Because next thing you know, you feel your shoulders slightly shaking, and your hand reaching to conceal your silent weeping. Thus, when talking becomes a burden and your breath runs short, your beloved is the first to listen to your sniffles.

✧ Pierro’s already icy gaze becomes unreadable. Is it fear? Is it astonishment? Or is it the readiness to unleash hell upon anything that compelled you to shed these silent tears? He sees you hugging yourself, trying to shield yourself away from him. His gloved hands cautiously reach for your form, like a blanket wrapping itself around your shoulders. 

“My divine one, why hide your tears away from me? Why conceal the sadness in your eyes when you silently weep? Please, grace me with your gaze and look at me.” 

His voice is careful despite its deepness, suppressing his boiling temper at the sight of your sadness. He reaches for you tenderly, and when you turn towards him, you allow yourself to cry further into his chest. He cradles you silently, never once wasting breath on simple shushes or admonishments to cease crying. No, The Jester will hold you, let his lips press softly to your forehead, and let you cry as much as you need. He'll personally worship and wipe every teardrop off your cheek. 

Yet despite his gentle arms, you sense him shaking. His gloved hands hold you securely, yet subconsciously gripping. Because pray to the archons above, he will not rest until the source of your sadness is annihilated. 

✧ Il Capitano never saw you cry before. He saw you as an equal in matters of battles, duels, and personal life. Through ups and downs, your best and worst. And yet the imposing, mighty Captain never witnessed his beloved’s face slowly scowl and emit those saddened sobs as you're doing now. 

“No… who bestowed such sadness onto you, my cherished? What sorrows are you fighting?” 

He asks, half in disbelief and worry. The Captain kneels down, the back of his armored hands gracefully meeting your face. He makes sure you’re not physically in pain, his touch asking permission for the simplest caress. You might feel embarrassed to explain why you're crying, but the Captain will coax you to talk only if you bestow him this honor. Otherwise, he never mocks or admonishes you for crying – “This is not a sign of weakness, but a sign of humanity in your strength.”

To soothe you, he'd drape an arm around your shoulder, bringing the side of his coat to shield you. If you desire, he'd immediately discard his coat entirely and wrap it over your shoulders. And if you desire neither this or that, he'd silently kneel, asking for permission to pick you up in his forearms, so you may rest on his shoulder while he carries you away. 

✧ You cannot conceal your sorrows from Il Dottore. He suspects you are feeling dejected before you even realize it. Should your shoulders quiver and tears well in your eyes, he'll be the first to perceive it. His already tense countenance will harden, and in short, murderous intent, he’ll ask:

“Who did this to you?”

His first suspension is that someone foolish enough dared to hurt you, and his next task is to seek out that moron. And stars above, if someone did ruin your day, the Doctor will have a new cadaver on his lab table. You'll have to physically restrain the Harbinger in front of you by putting your hands on his shoulder and explaining hurriedly that no one did anything harmful. 

Il Dottore won't quell his inner rage so easily though. As you shake your head, and rub your eyes, it will require much persuasion to convince him that it’s not as dire as he suspects. Nonetheless, Dottore will keep a tight hold on your form. If he won't murder someone in rage, then he'll prepare a soothing beverage and wrap you up in a comfortable seating so you may rest your weary head. He’ll have to personally drag you to sit by his lap so you won’t desolate yourself into a depressive fit again. 

“Wasting your breath and energy on crying is a futile endeavor. You'll only tire your body out… so rest in my arms before your mind starts weaving more puny sentiments.” 

✧ The ever-prideful and strict Scaramouche would find himself faltering into silence when the unfamiliar sound emanates from your being. The hiccupped sounds of choked cries are not foreign to him - he recognized them very well and was personally acquainted with the physical pain of crying. But seeing the closest being, the one he calls most cherished, to unexplainable weep was a new form of pain he had never experienced. 

“... Are you-? What's wrong, are you hurt? Did something-!”

An expression of shock and fear bestows the Balladeer, his hands are reluctant and afraid to cross your boundaries when you cry in front of him. His first instinct is to believe that he has erred, that he has hurt you or spoken insensitively. Anguished, his fist tightens, dreading your stern rejection. Yet, all it takes is a gentle shake of your head and a soft reassurance - no, he hasn't actually done anything wrong.

His brow will remain furrowed, and only under your permission, he would glue himself to you in a reassuring embrace. It's only after he's assured of your safety and well-being that the Harbinger begins to ease up and scoff. Maybe, just maybe, he will go and bring your favorite sweets afterward. Regardless, his hands kept cupping your face, thumbs gently wiping your tears.

“Ha, you’re that sensitive that you’d weep at the most minor inconvenience? Fine, I’ll stay here. But don’t get too comfortable. And you better stop apologizing for crying. You should never say sorry for something like that. It’s in your right to cry… Just come to me when something’s troubling you, alright?”

✧ You cannot recall a single instance when Pantalone's captivating smile ever wavered. The man has perfected his charismatic, million-mora smile that only you can discern if he’s being genuine or not. But to witness it dropping completely in a cold stare while you cried was chilling. You felt scared, as the Harbinger grew eerily silent with each slow step, he demanded:

“... Give me names and I will make sure they will disappear permanently.”

You jolted. This was bad, and it sure didn’t quell your sobbing as you hurriedly shook your head. Pantalone took a deep sigh, his brain forced to flip a switch and change to a more tender tone so he wouldn’t scare you further with his sinister rage. He will deal with the causes later. What mattered now was your shaken state. Hence, like the dotting lover he is, he softly inquired whether you wish to talk or have some privacy. 

If you willingly welcomed his physical touch, then prepare yourself for a day filled with him enfolding you tightly. He will draw you near, letting you cry your frustrations out until you get fatigued and rest against his lean chest. The Regrator always fulfills his pledges, gently rocking you back and forth. He will vow to spoil you on the next shopping spree and purchase everything you desire - luxuries, clothes, perfumes, or fancy meals, all of it is yours with a snap of his fingers (even if you reprimand his indulgence). His embraces are tenacious, endless kisses raining down on your face until you plead and whine to be released from his insistent hugs.

"My heart, how can I possibly release you when you should be adorned with kisses instead of tears? I am afraid I won’t be so easily reassured until I see your smile again."

✧ Tartaglia’s highlight of the day is mirroring your luminous smile; hence when he first heard your sorrowful sniffles, it felt like a sudden dark cloud washed past him, pouring cold water to wipe his smile off in an instant. Without hesitation, his hand found itself on your shoulder as he guided you to sit first.

“Hey, hey… What’s wrong, darling? I’m here, it’s alright.”

He observes your attempt to explain the root of your troubles, but as you try to elaborate, your tears only intensify against your own will. Kneeling in front of you, his gaze was resolute - he now had a mission. He will immediately soothe your mood with tender words of endearment, lighthearted banter, and the occasional joke here and there, anything to make you crack up with that sweet smile he so adores.

Tartaglia will remind you that first and foremost, he is your Ajax - the one who will bring laughter through his playful teasing and delightful humor during your times of melancholy. The one who will cook you the best Snezhnayan Bliny better than any pancake restaurant. And the one who will always be there so you can lean your head on his shoulder and just feel his heartbeat as he embraces you deeply. In any other circumstances, he is the 11th of the Fatui Harbinger who will work and bloody his fists for your safety. However, for now, you shouldn’t occupy your thoughts with such concerns.

“Hey, it’s alright… You don’t have to feel embarrassed for crying. We all have bad days from time to time. How about this, leave today’s dinner on me. I shall cook your favorite even better than you could imagine! Or else what sort of boyfriend would I be if I’m not spoiling my darling.” 

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

Family Wrath

( Implied SA, not actually SA, POV outsider misunderstandings )

Okay I want all the misunderstandings!

Misunderstandings galore my beloved!

Anyway!

For this intrusive thought that decided to hit me as I was minding my own business-

Danny is the baby that Stephanie gave into adoption when she was young.

Obvi trans Danny,

So after Stephanie realizes just who Danny is she investigates (You can't escape the Bat paranoia training)

But here are the misunderstandings: Ellie and Dante (de-aged)

" Oh my God guys I'm a grandmother! "

But wait there's more!

Danny is how old?! With kids, that are very much not newborns?

" So who's the other parent? "

" Oh some fruit-loop named Vlad, he was obsessed with my mom when they went to college together but she wasn't interested at all & now he's obsessed with me. He really wanted the 'perfect' son but I told him to fuck off not that he cared about what I wanted. So yeah, sorry for rambling-are you okay you look a little pale, is the heat bothering you? "

Danny forgets that peoples first thoughts aren't " Oh yea clone! " Or timeline shenanigans

So what these concerned people heard was " Yea this adult man wanted my mom and when he saw that that wasn't an option he targeted me as a child "

Dante & Ellie are just enjoying the show intentionally creating more misunderstandings and havoc, they hope someone will finally go beat Vlad since they're now too small to beat him.

~

Dante: " Pappa practically died when I was born. "

Ellie: "Yea I almost killed him too! "

They're technically not lying just using what actually happened in a different context

~

Alfred after hearing what's going on grabbing his shotgun: " I still have good aim."

~

Jason/Stephanie: " A little murder is fine, as a treat "

~

Just more and more misunderstandings happening around Danny with him being none the wiser.

~

Feel free to add to my nonsense, I love it, it's fun to read what people come up with

~

Just an (Intrusive) Idea

[livelovelizz]

you make you so easy

dick grayson x reader / fluff

“Stop following me.”

“Oh, did you want me to walk beside you? Hold your hand?”

You abruptly stop walking and shoot a glare up into the shadows of the nearby alley. You currently can’t see him, but you know he’s in there somewhere.

“I am trying to go home. After a long day,” you reply, “Alone.”

Nightwing melts out of the shadows, lips in a pout. “Come on, babe,” he whines, “I said sorry!”

You just shake your head and continue walking. “Stop following me, Nightwing. I wonder what the media would think, a vigilante stalking an innocent civilian and not leaving them alone?”

Some clicking and a whoosh of the air lets you  know he’s on the chase again. Gotham has never been a particularly safe place to walk alone after dark, even after the Bats rose to the occasion. The goons and villains made it hard, for sure, but the crumbling infrastructure of the city was just the icing on the cake. Buses and the train don’t run late, leaving a long walk in uncomfortable shoes after being stood up on a date.

“The media,” comes the reply, voice dripping with pride, “would simply see one of their beloved vigilantes doing their job! Nothing wrong with that.”

God, you hate he isn’t even out of breath keeping up with you. Not like you’re walking that fast, but still. You hope he trips.

“Maybe if the media knew what a dick you are, one that stands up their partner on a date they’ve been planning for months, specifically to not be interrupted!” You snap, unable to keep the simmering anger down. Fuck, if you weren’t angry about it, you’d cry. Inhaling slowly, you curl your hands into fists with determination to not make a scene. You stomp on.

It’s silent for a moment. For two. You would have thought he left if you didn’t know any better.

When Nightwing speaks, his voice is heavy. “Look, I know. I was looking forward to tonight too, but—”

You shake your head. When you breathe out, all the fight you had left. “I get it. I do. I just— let me be upset about it. Okay?”

You don’t get a reply or hear anything, but you know he’s still keeping pace. It’s nothing he can refute anyways. The both of you kept this day clear for months. It’s not often your dates can be more than a relaxed one at home, or spur of the moment. Not that you didn’t love those kinds of dates, of course you did, but it’s nice to dress up and show up for each other. You continue on your path on the crumbling side walk, only thinking about how nice it’ll be to be out of these shoes and in comfortable pajamas, maybe drink a glass of wine or two while ignoring your idiot of a partner.

As you pass through a darker portion of the street, a figure flips down in front of you. You stop abruptly lest you crash into them, but it doesn’t matter when you trip on a stray pebble and tumble right into waiting arms.

The arms curl around you tighter, rather than letting go.

“I’m sorry,” Dick murmurs into your ear. “I’m really sorry. I told them not to call me in but, fuck…”

You stand still as he digs his face into neck. A small crackle distracts you, talking too muffled for you to make anything out, though you know what this means. A hefty sigh runs through your body and you lean your head onto Dick’s shoulder briefly before prying him off.

“Duty calls,” you say softly, staring into lifeless white lenses. You look over him. He’s tense, body standing firmly on his feet in a way you know means he’s going to be stubborn. Suddenly, he clenches his jaw and looks away from you, yet he still doesn’t leave.

Lifting a hand, you softly trace his jaw up to his mask. With a small smile, you whisper “Go.”

“I’ll be as home as soon as I can,” Dick kisses the palm of your hand, and then like a tornado, flips away in a flurry off to whatever disaster is wrecking Gotham this time. You shake your head softly and start moving again.

Before you know it, you’re in bed, eyes blinking blearily as you turn on your phone. 4:43. Why’re you—?

“Did I wake you?”

Hands crawl over your waist, gently tugging you back into a chest. You can barely register the kisses on your neck before turning around to face Dick to croak out “D’ya j’s git h’me?”

You aren’t even sure your eyes are open, but you can still see Dick Grayson through the low lighting. Even while exhausted, he radiates light. He stares at you, hand brushing hair out of your eyes. “Go back to bed.”

“Hm.” is all you can manage before darkness takes over you.

The next time you wake up, a dim light shines through the blinds and you feel significantly more awake. You yawn and stretch out your body. Sitting up, something catches the edge of your eye. You look over and jump. Leaning against the doorway with coffee in hand, stands Dick Grayson. Oversized shirt, sweatpants, barefoot with eyes still half-closed, he looks beautiful.

You narrow your eyes and look to his side of the bed. Empty. You look over at the doorway. Dick. Bed. Doorway. No Dick. Dick. “You,” croaking, you point to the figure, “Who are you and what did you do with my boyfriend?”

Dick only raises and eyebrow and walks over, hand brushing messy hair of of your eyes. “Am I not allowed to get up early?”

You shake your head. “Absolutely not. You’re supposed to still be in bed until noon,”

“Well,” he smiles before pushing a thumb on your forehead, tilting your head backwards. You straighten up and give him a look. “Get up. We have somewhere to be,”

Standing up, you reach your hands above your head and stretch. “Is it important?”

You wander to the bathroom, flipping the lights on and yawning. Dick drifts over and watches you brush your teeth from the doorway as he takes another sip. “Super important. I have a full day of making up to do with my very angry partner.”

The statement makes a wave of butterflies go through you. Washing your mouth out, you look at his reflection in the mirror. “Are you being serious?”

Dick’s reflection nods. “Very serious,” he replies, bright grin overtaking his features, “Funded by Bruce, too. As an apology.”

Now that statement makes you smile. You quickly turn around, affection bubbling within you and threatening to spill over. Stepping towards Dick, you gently push the coffee out of the way and capture his lips in a long kiss. Just as it starts to get serious– invoking a different kind of butterflies– you pull away.

Dick stares at you with a dazed expression.  “I’ll be quick,” you promise.

“I mean,” he mumbles, leaning towards you presumably to finish what you started, “We don’t have to leave right away… We could take a minute—”

A peck cuts him off. Dick immediately tries to deepen the kiss, but you just pull away and push him out of the doorway so you can close the bathroom door.

“Save that for later, Grayson,” you smirk. Just before the door shuts, you lift on eyebrow. “By the time I’m out of this bathroom, you better be ready to go. I’m not wasting a single minute today.”

The door clicks shut. You hear him chuckle and call out an affirmation. Turning back to the mirror so you can finish your morning routine, you look at yourself. Bright eyes, blushed cheeks, wide grin. You weren’t lying to him, you weren’t going to waste a single minute today. That included after you get home from your outing together. Dick definitely needed a punishment after yesterday, and you intend to make him learn his lesson all night long.

Well. You better get ready.

fin.

[sqtorux]

standing on tiptoes.

୨୧ summary. just as what the title suggests, you get on your tip toes to give satoru a kiss! gojo is completely lovesick and down bad, early stage in the relationship. its gojo's first too °u°

୨୧ desc. sweet sweet tooth rotting fluff because we all need this. 0.7k words from me to you beloved <3

satoru thinks life has been gracious to him lately and he can't pinpoint what he did exactly to deserve this but he hopes he keeps doing whatever it is because he wants you around a long, long time.

satoru wouldn’t call himself a sentimental person but he can't help the soft feeling that pools in his stomach and spread through his chest when you look at him with your oh so mesmerising eyes.

even now, walking back home after a long day with both your hands intertwined and the gradient of the sunset painting the sky, his gaze still shifts to you in small glimpses, red spreading his pretty cheeks all the way to his ears.

“so i was absolutely… toru? are you listening?” satoru swears he was, he was listening to your voice so soothing to him that he forgot to comprehend the words that it formed.

“sorry, what was that again?” his hand found the back of his head sheepishly.

“is everything okay? something on your mind?” a worried expression finds itself on your face and satoru's eyes can't help but dart to your lips that were slightly pouting in confusion, a habit he notices you have.

“y-yeah… yeah no, everything's fine” he forces his gaze to look into your eyes but he couldn't help another glimpse at your soft lips, thoughts of kissing you clouding his mind.

would it be weird if he asked to kiss? are you supposed to ask? how early can you kiss someone in a relationship? would he be good at it?

satoru hadn't realised he was so obvious with his thoughts until he heard you giggle and if he thinks he can't get any more redder than he already is, he was wrong.

“are you sure?” your tone was clearly evident that you were teasing him and the way your head tilts to meet his wandering gaze sends his heart into a frenzy of thumps that he fears were loud enough for you to hear.

“yeah sure, very sure” satoru looks at everywhere but at you because he thinks he would either combust across the next planet or melt on the spot, he wasn't sure but something embarrassing would happen. that, he was sure.

what he didn't expect was instead of teasing him more, you closed the little distance that separated the both of you and slowly rised on your tiptoes, eyes focused on his soft lips. your right hand that were still intertwined with his left, stayed as they are while he waits for the contact of both your lips that never comes.

“help me out a lil won't you?” you chuckle. it wasn't your fault you still couldn't reach his lips even when you're on your tip toes, why did he have to be so tall anyway?

satoru chuckles back as he gets overcome with a sense of confidence at your own blushing cheeks. he leans down and wastes no time to place a chaste kiss on your lips.

your face crinkles in disappointment at the ghost of a peck on your lips and satoru thinks he accomplished the greatest thing ever knowing you wanted more of him.

he realises he would give you the world if you so ever asked. his hand find its way to caress your cheeks softly, completely lost in your eyes and hopelessly so in love.

he leans in and closes the infinity between the both of you, finally finally having a taste of your lips. it was as perfect as he imagined it to be, if not more.

he follows after your lips as you pull away, a soft whine leaving his plump lips you just kissed and you would have kissed him again if you weren't in public doing this.

“i think we've garnered enough stares and annoyed remarks” you laugh, he does too.

“hm i wonder where we can do this without any of that” satoru teases earning another chuckle from you. he thinks he can keep hearing it on repeat for the rest of his life.

“i don't know, you tell me” you shrug as you pull him by your hands that he realised haven't left his, it was so natural. everything was so natural with you.

in the comfort of your home, you in his arms and giving him all the kisses he could ever ask for, satoru thinks he's the happiest man in the world, even as far as the galaxy and expanding even further.

[heeliopheelia]

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐒/𝐎 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌

genre: fluff, established relationship

word count: 1.9k

a/n: guys it's 2am but i finally finished editing this... whatever that is. it's been a while since i posted this type of a fic so i hope you like it just as much as the previous ones!! 🤍

masterlist

LEE HEESEUNG

"I'll be right back, baby. Just give me ten minutes, okay?"

These were the words your boyfriend said to you twenty minutes ago as you patiently sat on the wooden bench in the empty locker room. His basketball team just won their first game of the season and now you wait for him to finally finish showering, so that the two of you can go back to his place and catch up on the much needed sleep. Much needed as he's the one who has deprived the both of you of it last night when he made you watch him practice nearly until morning.

So it's no surprise that as another minute goes by, you find your eyes growing heavy. Leaning your head back on the cool locker, you start dozing off when familiar footsteps finally approach your tired figure.

"Aww, sorry I kept you waiting, baby. I'm ready to go now, though," he says softly as his hand goes to swipe some hair away from your face. He grins as you blink slowly at him before slinging his bag over his shoulder and kneeling down in front of you. You don't have enough strength to question his behavior when he turns around and wiggles his fingers at you and looks over his shoulder. "C'mon, hop on. I'll carry you."

You manage to somehow climb onto his back and when your hands wrap around his neck securely, he hooks his arms under your thighs and lifts the both of you off the ground.

"Up you go," he grunts quietly, adjusting you in his arms before making his way out of the locker room. "Let's finally get my sleepy baby home, shall we?"

PARK JAY

Throwing his bag on the ground, Jay tosses the keys to the cupboard and feels his shoulders relaxing at the thought of seeing you after such a long day. Even though it's late at night, he knows you'll be stubbornly waiting for him like you always do, so instead of heading to the bedroom, he directs his steps to the living room.

And he was right – there you are, slumped over the arm rest of the couch, mouth slightly ajar because of the palm you're holding up your face with.

Jay snorts quietly, mind running back to all the times you've denied the possibility of ever falling asleep while waiting for your beloved boyfriend to come back home. He takes a mental note to remember that and tease you in the morning.

With a sigh, he crouches down in front of the couch and reaches his hand out to brush your cheek gently. The feeling of his cool fingers against your skin almost instantly wakes you up and you jerk underneath his touch, eyes blinking rapidly to adjust to the dim lighting. When your eyes meet Jay's, you straighten your back and send him a guilty smile as if you've been caught committing a crime.

"Oh, you're back," you mutter tiredly, letting his fingers run over your eyes to wipe the sleep away from them. "I was so not sleeping, you're just tweaking."

Jay chuckles before standing up and pressing his lips to your forehead. You wrap your arms around his neck and close your eyes back again, feeling content now that he's finally back. Sighing, you softly kiss the crook of his neck before nuzzling your face into it.

Jay's hand is caressing your hair gently. "Let's get you to bed now, hm?"

SIM JAKE

"Well, aren't you just cute?" Jake huffs under his nose as the first thing he comes across of is you laying on the couch, face buried in one of the green cushions you bought on your last Ikea trip. He giggles quietly, heart feeling full as he looks at you with such lovesick eyes, you'd definitely be left blushing if you ever caught him like this.

He decides on not waking you up, realizing how tired you must've been if you actually fell asleep while waiting on him. So instead, he slips underneath the blanket right next to you. He turns to his side so that you're laying face to face and he smiles at the way your lips are slightly pouted. He leans forward and presses his forehead to yours, draping an arm around your waist as you subconsciously curl up to his body, seeking for his warmth even in your sleep.

Jake softly presses his lips right above your eyebrow when your eyelids slowly flutter open. You look at him with your foggy eyes before wrapping your arm around his neck and wordlessly pulling him even closer to yourself. You bury your face in his chest instead of the cushion now and slowly start dozing off again when his hand sneaks underneath your sweater and caresses your side gently.

"I'm glad you're home," you mumble into his skin, nudging his neck with your nose before leaving a butterfly kiss on the same exact spot. "Been waiting for you."

Jake feels his stomach tickle funny at your sleepy affection and he buries his smile in your hair. "Yeah, I know. You can go to sleep now. I'm not going anywhere."

PARK SUNGHOON

"How many times do I have to tell you not to wait for me this late, you idiot," Sunghoon scolds you as he adjusts your half-asleep body in his arms and carries on up the stairs.

You mumble an incoherent answer with mouth muffled by the warm skin of his neck. You hold him tighly, arms slung around his shoulders as you hang onto him like a baby monkey. Sunghoon has to bite his lip to prevent himself from snickering right then and there.

"What was that?" He asks, leaning his face a little closer to hear you better.

"You're so warm. Makes me even more sleepy."

Sunghoon can't help the chuckle that leaves his mouth anymore and he opens the door to your bedroom with his foot. He carries you straight to bed and places you on the soft mattress, only to quickly change into a pair of sweatpants and slip underneath the covers right next to you.

Your body moves almost automatically as you shift closely to your boyfriend and cling onto him once your arms make contact with his skin. You shuffle and twist in your place, somehow unable to find a comfortable position, because no matter how close you get to him – it's just simply not close enough tonight.

So you climb on top of his body and use him as a mattress instead, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder.

"I wanna get inside your skin. Lemme," you mumble tiredly and feel his chest vibrate with laughter.

His hand makes its way to your hair. "Some of the things you say when you're sleepy are quite concerning, sweetheart."

KIM SUNOO

Sunoo is greeted by the view of you and Riki chilling on the couch in their dorm. More precisely – Riki playing some videogame on playstation and you sprawled out by his side, the white controller laying on the carpet below you as you sleep soundly.

"What time did she get here?" Sunoo asks as he drops his training bag somwehere on the floor and approaches the two of you. He crouches down in front of you and picks up the long forgotten controller.

"Two hours ago maybe," Riki responds, eyes glued to the TV screen. "She wanted to wait for you but she fell asleep like half an hour ago. Made me lose my damn game."

The older one only sends him a glare paired with a scoff before turning his attention back to you.

"Y/N, wake up."

You peak one of your eyes open as another tap lands on your shoulder. When the first thing your met with is your boyfriend's pretty face, a smile spreads on your slightly chapped lips and you lift yourself up in your seat.

"You're back," you croak out, rubbing your eyes quickly before nuzzling your face in his chest. "Sorry for dropping by without giving you a warning. Jus' thought you'd be home."

Sunoo presses his lips to the crown of your head. "Don't apologize for things like that. You know I always like having you around."

You nod slowly, reaching your hands up until they're circling his neck. Turning your head to the side, you place a small kiss to the side of his jawline. "Can we go cuddle now?"

"How can I say no when you're this cute, huh?"

YANG JUNGWON

Jungwon tries, he really tries to be quiet. It's really not his fault that his clumsy nature made him bump his hip into the cupboard and cause the keys to topple down to the ground with a clank that probably could wake up a hundred year old half-deaf granny.

You open your eyes and lift yourself from the table you've been laying on top of, startled, head spinning from the sudden movement.

"Shit, I'm so sorry, angel. I didn't mean to wake you up," Jungwon apologizes as he rushes over to you from the other side of the kitchen.

You watch as he crosses the space quickly and plops down on the chair next to you, then wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you to his lap instead.

"No, it's okay," you say quietly as you clear your throat, lifting your head up to smile at him softly. "Was waiting for you anyways. I made you dinner. Just kinda fell asleep after cooking."

Jungwon giggles at the dissatisfied scrunch of your nose. He leans down to press a small kiss to the tip of it.

"Thanks for waiting for me, baby. And for cooking for me. That's really sweet of you, you didn't have to," he mutters, lowering his tone to match yours as he rubs your noses together. "Well, now that I'm finally here, how about I try some of it, huh?"

"Yeah, that's a good idea I suppose." You smile at him and bring your hand up to stroke the short hair at the back of his head. "Can we stay here a little longer, though? I missed you today. Wanna cuddle you."

He chuckles warmly at your words before leaning down and laying a kiss on your forehead. "Of course. We've got all the time in the world, angel."

NISHIMURA RIKI

"Baby?"

Silence.

"Baby."

Still nothing. The only thing Riki can hear is your slowed down breathing, slightly muffled by the fuzzy blanket you've pulled right above your nose.

"Y/N."

Now that finally wakes you up and you blink your eyes to adjust to the dim lighting of your living room. You lift your gaze to look at Riki standing in front of the couch you're laying on, a small smile playing on his lips.

"There you are," he huffs, slightly amused. "C'mon, let's get you to bed."

A grunt leaves your throat as you bury yourself even further into the back rest of the couch. You open your arms and lift the blanket a little as an invitation.

"C'mere. 'm too comfy to leave," you mumble groggily, barely managing to keep your eyes open.

With one more pleading look of your foggy eyes, Riki sighs and shakes his head at your stubborness.

"Tsch, fine." He clicks his tongue before standing up and laying down on the tight space right next to you. You don't waste a single second and wrap all of your limbs around his tall body, snuggling up to him with a content sigh.

"Perfect," you whisper as you press your face into his warmth and fall back asleep the moment that his arms wrap around your waist and pull you closer to his chest.

permanent taglist @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @satoruskitchenrag @ramenoil @jenjnk @jaylaxies @yoongspi @nichoswag @s00buwu @dazzlingligth

© heeliopheelia 2023 // ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. DO NOT copy, translate or repost any of my works on any other social platforms.

[karlachismylife]

Writing Russian-speaking characters

So I have once again been chuckling at some adorable clumsy Russian in Nikolai and Nikto fics, and thus I decided to make a little list that might be helpful for fellow COD writers here. And yes, please, feel free to reach out to me if you need any proofreading of your Russian phrases, I would be glad to assist since google translator can butcher it in ways non-speakers won't be able to notice.

I would really appreciate if you guys shared this post and helped it reach people that might need it, I put way more effort into it than I expected myself <3 Also, I might make a followup with some more words and/or phrases that can be useful, so please feel free to request some, since here I am mostly focusing on terms of endearment.

I will write down Russian words, their (approximate and wonky, sorry for that) transcription/transliteration and what part of speech they are (keep in mind that adjectives can be used as nouns when used to address someone) and provide according translation and use.

Keep in mind that in Russian the gender of the word is important!!! I'll write down them in following order: he/him (он/его) version/ she/her (она/её) version/ they/them (они/их) version. However! They/them is NOT traditionally used as gender-neutral pronouns, it's plural only. Some queer and younger folks do use they/them (myself included), but it does sound wonky as it's direct copy from English. Unfortunately, Russian is not very suitable for gender-neutral writing, but there are ways to go about it (I'll try to note some of that too).

*however, since Nikto is sometimes using plural they/them to describe himself, that would be okay with him since it's plural. I hope that makes sense, lol.

So if you're putting an adjective with a noun (example: милый котик) you have to use an adjective in the correct gender form FOR THE WORD! If the noun (котик here) is masculine, you use masculine adjective form EVEN if you're referring to a person with she/her pronouns.

What is love?

The main thing I noticed is that y'all use a direct translation of the word "love" - "любовь" [l'ubov'] (n) to refer to a person. As in "how are you doing, love?". However, that's wrong. "Любовь" is either a word to describe the feeling, or a name (short version would be Люба [Lyuba]). If you wanna use an affectionate pet name, consider one of the following!

дорогой/дорогая/дорогие [dorogoy/dorogaya/dorogiye] (adj) - means "darling". Often used between spouses. Mostly used to refer to person directly, sounds a little quirky if you use it to refer to them in third person (as in "my darling went out to buy some strawberries").

любимый/любимая/любимые [l'ubimiy/l'ubimaya/l'ubimiye] (adj) - means "beloved/loved/loved one" and is probably the closest to "love". You can use it to refer to person directly or to talk about them in third person (as in "can't wait to see любимую". Also yes, the endings are changing depending on the case and I'm not entirely sure how to explain this concisely without going deep into grammar lol).

милый/милая/милые [miliy/milaya/miliye] (adj) - the word means "cute/cutie", but is also used as a general terms of endearment, like "sweetheart". Mainly to refer to someone directly, using it in third person is a little old-fashioned I'd say. Also commonly used by people outside romantic partnership, a kind old lady can definitely call you over with this one asking to help her read expiration date on a milk bottle or something.

любовь моя [l'ubov' moya] (n + adj/pronoun) - okay, I kinda tricked you saying you can't use the word "love" to refer to a person. If you say this (means "my love"), you can! It's pretty romantic and I am actually the one person that uses this daily, otherwise it's either very romance-novel/old-fashioned sounding, but there are moments when it's perfectly suitable. Have that fairytale moment! Also please note, that while "моя любовь" [moya l'ubov'] (adj/pronoun + n) is grammatically correct, it sounds kinda weird if you use it to address the person directly (like in a phrase "my love, you shine brighter than the stars"). While Russian doesn't have particularly strict rules about word order, it does matter to some extent, and this is a prime example: people just use one order way more often that the other.

Pocket-sized

I've already told somewhere here my favourite Nikto fic moment: the sweetest, romantic moment, interrupted by him calling reader "детёныш", which means "cub" as in baby animal. And while my parents do use this word affectionately, I can assure you, most people don't, and it was clear that this was a result of a clumsy translation of "baby" or something like that. So here are some variants for words like baby, little one and such!

малыш/малышка [malysh/malyshka] (n) - I'd say this feels more "little one" than "baby" to me, it's a tad less sexually charged if you get what I mean. Also, you call "малыш" a person of any gender/pronouns, while "малышка" is strictly for she/her. Obviously can be used for kids too.

детка [d'etka] (n) - this one is definitely "baby" or "babe" as a term of endearment, calling a real kid this would be WEIRD if you're not a really old granny. I would also say that it's more commonly used to refer to female partners, but that might be just my perception and experience. It's still okay to use both ways. Also this word can be very much used if you need a little bit of sleazy/catcalling/bad pickup line energy, like someone shouting after a girl passing by on the street. Yuck.

маленький/маленькая [mal'en'kiy/mal'en'kaya] (adj) - this just means "little" or "small", I'd say it's used less commonly and usually in this form "маленький мой/маленькая моя" [mal'en'kiy moy/mal'en'kaya moya] (adj + adj/pronoun). I will expand on this a little later here! Can be used to refer to kids too.

All kinds of fauna

While poor детёныш is reserved for furry freaks like yours truly, there are some animal nicknames that are very widely spread! Here are some that I think would be most useful for y'all. Granted, some people think that these are a lil' bit cringey, but I think it really just depends on what you're used to hear around you. So if I think calling someone a cub is cute, and bunny is cringe, that probably says more about me :D

котик [kot'ik] (n) - this is a term of endearment for a cat. NOT same as kitten, mind you! Mostly used to refer to men (since the word is of masculine gender) - in my experience.

котёнок [kot'onok] (second o here is like ö in German) (n) - now THIS is "kitten". I would say this is more gender-neutral than the previous one, but the word is still masculine gender.

зайка [zayka] (n) - I believe this would be an equivalent to "bunny", although it's actually a cute word for a hare, not a rabbit. Definitely used for all genders (also the word can be both masculine and feminine gender), also is okay to use referring to kids (even teachers that are into endearing nicknames can call pupils this and it's not weird. well, in elementary school). You can also say "зайчонок" [zaych'onok] (n) which is a word for baby hare, even cuter.

рыбка [ribka] (n) - a term of endearment for a fish. I think it's viewed as a bit old-fashioned and thus only used jokingly nowadays, but you know what? Nikolai could pull this off 100%. Bonus points if it's "рыбка моя" [ribka moya] (n + adj/pronoun). Only used for women and the word itself is of feminine gender.

медвежонок [medv'ezhonok] (n) - now, I actually have never met someone who would call their partner this, but I myself would (and I definitely saw it in some media, but that's obv not too reliable). It's a word for a bear cub, so I think it's cute to call a huge ass bear of a military man this word. It's of masculine gender, but I would say it's okay to call a she/her person this too. ALTHOUGH there is a grammatically incorrect (but this only adds to cuteness as it often happens) word "медвежонка" [medv'ezhonka] (n) - this would be a female bear cub. My family uses this word, I use it, no, it won't be in a dictionary, but everyone will understand what you mean. Is okay to use for kids too.

щенок [sh'enok] (if it helps, щ is like German "schtsch", like in Borschtsch, like sh but soft) (n) - now, this actually is not used as a term of endearment, it's "puppy" and it's suitable for degradation. The word is of masculine gender, but you can call anyone this to be honest. You can tell Nikto he's "глупый щенок" [glupiy sh'enok] (adj + n) (silly puppy) and that man will either bark for you or gut you. If you say "тупой" [tupoy] (adj) (dumb) instead of "глупый" [glupiy] (adj) (silly), it will be downright offensive. You can say "щеночек" [sh'enochek] (n), which is an endearing term for a puppy, so it's a little bit sweete. OR you can use my personal favourite - "щен" [sh'en] (n), which is actually also incorrect, but if you've ever heard of a great poet and poetry innovator Mayakovskiy, he was called this word by Lilya Brik. I do NOT have the time to unpack that wild relationship (there was a throuple involved. Russian poetry scene of early XX century was WILD and it's my favourite poetry period hands down), but it's pretty famous. The word "щен" consists of the word "puppy" but with the end diminutive suffix cut off. The trick is, that while some words return to their non-diminutive form with such procedure, this one does not - so you're basically inventing a new word that now sounds quite degrading and harsh, but also sexy as hell (personal opinion). I would definitely call Nikto this word.

птичка [ptich'ka] (n) - that's just "birdie", but I actually wouldn't say many people use it to refer to each other. HOWEVER, Nikolai 100% calls his steel bird this. The word is of feminine gender and if you are calling a person this, it's probably more suitable for a woman.

цыпа [tsipa??] (n) or even цыпочка [tsipoch'ka] (n) - that's a chick, like a baby hen, used only to refer to women (feminine gender word). Honestly I only heard this in foreign films dubbed in Russian or like in jokes/sarcastic phrases. It's kinda rude/indecent/vulgar and the only man that can say that and stay attractive is Captain Jack Sparrow (he used this word in Russian dubbed Pirates like once maybe, talking to Elisabeth, and that was funny cuz he be crazy like that). But maybe you want this, idk.

And everything sweet

Unfortunately, I haven't seen anyone translate the word "honey" as "мёд" directly, that would be another brilliant laugh (cuz it's wrong to refer to a person like that), but there are some "sweet" words to use!

сладкий/сладкая [sladk'iy/sladkaya] (adj) - this just means "sweet", like the taste, and it can be sexy or sleazy or just cute. You can call a kid this word too, BUT for a child would be better сладенький/сладенькая [slad'en'kiy/slad'en'kaya], which is like one step further into diminutive-endearing department.

конфетка [konf'etka] (n) - this is a diminutive word for a candy, a sweet, like a caramel or chocolate or whatever. Not very common, but is cute. Also a way to describe a sexy/good-looking person (more likely a woman, the word is of feminine gender) or just something really good (a bit jokingly). The latter is usually used in a phrase build like "не ..., а просто конфетка", which is roughly translated "that's not ... that's just plain candy". Might have an actual English equivalent that I can't think of right now. Maybe "a total snack"? Probably that one, yeah. Can be said about anything, a car for example.

Shiny

I wanna stick in a few more words of endearment and they all are kinda shiny, lol, so here you go!

солнце [solntse] (n) - this means "sun", like that big glowing thingy in the sky, but it's very welcome as a term of endearment. This word is NEUTER gender (explained in the next section). Viktor Tsoy (a famous rock musician with an unfortunate fate and immortal cultural heritage) had a song ("Cuckoo" - "Кукушка") with the words "солнце моё, взгляни на меня" [solntse moyo, vzgl'yan'i na m'en'ya] (my sun, look at me), so "солнце моё" (n + adj/n) is a good one. You can also use "солнышко" [solnyshko] (n) which is an endearing version of "sun", so it's like "sunshine". Also of neuter gender! Can and should be used to address kids too.

золотце [zolottse] (n) - this literally means like... a little gold? A little golden piece? I don't think there's a proper equivalent in English. It's a word of neuter gender and it's very much used for kids too. Another version would be "золотой мой/золотая моя/золотые мои" [zolotoy moy/zolotaya moya/zolotiye moyi] (adj + adj/pronoun) - this is "my golden", it's a little less common and I feel like it's often used to be condescending, but it's not inherenrly bad, so you can use it for a loved one.

сокровище [sokrov'ish'e] (once again it's щ, look previously) (n) - this is a word of neuter gender and it means "treasure". I personally adore this one and it's pretty common. Can be used for any gender and for kids!

звёздочка [zv'yozdoch'ka] (n) - this is like a little star/starshine. Wouldn't say it's that common, but I use it a lot. The word itself is of feminine gender, but you can call anyone that! Or you can say "звезда моя" [zv'ezda moya] (n + adj/pronoun), which means "my star". Also feminine gender word, but can be used for anyone.

This dog belongs to...

I am not going to go too deep into sexy/sex-related words in this part, because I'll just get overwhelmed with the amount, but I want to go over some words of ownership quickly.

мой/моя/мои/моё [moy/moya/moyi/moyo] (adj/pronoun) - this means my/mine. It goes really well with many words in this list, especially the adjectives, like "мой дорогой" [moy dorogoy] (my darling) or "солнышко моё" [solnyshko moyo] (my sun/sunshine). The last version, "моё" [moyo] is neuter gender, it's NOT gender-neutral! It's the "it/its" I guess (not exactly, but let's just stick with this simplyfied explanation). Previously there were some words of that gender, so here you go. BTW I would say that in speech it's more common to put this word before adjectives and after nouns (like in my examples), just sounds better, but it's not wrong to do otherwsise. You can also just say "ты мой" [ti moy] (you're mine). Also can be used to refer in third person, like when you're discussing your man with your gossip girls, you can just go "а мой вчера..." [a moy vch'era] (and mine yesterday...) and everyone will understand that you mean your man. Unless you wee discussing pets, then they'll probably assume it's your cat.

хозяин/хозяйка [khoz'yain/khoz'yayka] (n) - saw this one too btw. This means "owner" or kiiiinda "master/mistress", and they are gendered, so it's actually wrong to call a woman "хозяин" unless there's some kinky genderfuckery going on (which I'm all for, but like. you get what I mean).

господин/госпожа [gospod'in/gospozha] (n) - okay, THAT is definitely master/mistress, also gendered. Standard BDSM terminology and yada yada.

And that's where I'd like to wrap up for today! However, if needed, I can write more - perhaps with curse words or with sex-related words, or some phrases? I dunno, you tell me! Once again, I kindly ask you to share since I think this will help people (and while I understand the struggle of writing in another language and especially using words from language you don't speak at all, I can't help but be a little thrown off every time I see a wrong use of words in text).

Also remember: while Siberia is bigger than USA or even Canada, there are still other regions in Russia that deserve to be mentioned <3 a lot of places with mindblowing nature, cultural heritage etc.