#But now I'm realizing that if I don't want chapters 7 and 8 to be like. 10k words long I'm going to have to divide them up.

[forgetfulslasher]

Working on Ch. 7 as I speak and DAMN I have never craved Wendy's so bad. Or Dairy Queen. Tbh I just really want fast food right now. You'd never catch my ass moving to the woods because I love processed food too much, monster boyfriend be damned.

[imaginespazzi]

Part 11: Free Fall

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14

How many nights did you wish someone would stay? (Lie awake only hoping they're okay?)

(In which an angst writer makes her comeback in more ways than one)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Fluff if you squint?

Words: 8.0K

TW: Swearing (that's probably it?)

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 Y'all are the sweetest people ever for being so patient with me but it's finally here! I'm hoping that I don't put y'all through this again but it is almost finals season so...fingers crossed. While you read this chapter, I'd like y'all to keep in mind how much you love me and how much y'all wanted a new chapter and of course my favorite phrase: for the plot! I tried to edit but I hate reading my own work back and so it's not as thorough as it should be and there's probably typos so lemme know. As always, let me know what you liked, what you didn't and what you'd like to see next. Have a lovely week my angels!

May 2025 

It’s her first ever WNBA game -Dallas Wings vs Washington Mystics- and the first thing Paige notices as she steps onto the court is that the two courtside seats right by the Mystics bench are empty. The sound of music streaming through the speakers clashes against the raucous crowds; the lights are dimmed and there’s a riveting thrum of energy swirling the arena in anticipation for a generational talent’s professional debut. Paige has spent the days leading up to her first game immersed in basketball. Since training camps, she hasn’t let herself think of anything except how to make sure the ball went through the hoops, how to make sure the person in front of her didn’t score, how to win. 

It’s easier that way. Because then she doesn’t have to think about how empty and cold her bed feels at night, doesn’t have to think about how much she craves to press call on a number she knows she should have blocked, doesn’t have to think about how the pieces of her shattered world are barely bound together by a tape of pretend. Paige can’t think of any of that and so she’s spent every second awake, clearing her head of all potential distractions and focusing on preparing for this moment. 

Except, the moment is here now. 

And all Paige can fixate on is the empty courtside seats. 

The memories come back to her in waves; the two of them in those seats, pressed together -as close as it could be acceptable for their façade of best friends to be- as they weaved dreams of it being their turn on the professional stage. If she listens closely, Paige swears that amidst the chaos, she can still hear the echo of a promise that had once been made casually in conversation. 

“When you play here for the first time, I’ll be right here cheering you on. Every single time.”

Another broken promise. 

The truth is that the last few weeks as much as it’s felt like Paige is walking on a carpet of roses, there have been countless sharp thorns woven through the petals. She’s tried to avoid them -focusing on what she had, instead of what she’d lost- but they’d found a way to perforate through her skin anyways. And Paige knows she’s bleeding but she can’t scream, so she swallows the pain away instead. Memories of the past are piercing her feet and it feels like she’s leaving a trail of it feels incomplete without you behind her as she navigates the journey through her present, stepping towards a future that would be nothing like the one she’d imagined when she’d been a naive girl sitting in those courtside seats. 

The courtside seats that are empty tonight. 

Really it’s exactly what she should’ve expected. And there’s something so final about this moment, like the last flicker of a candle that had burned in secret. Paige hadn’t even realized she was still holding out for something but as she drags her eyes away from the seats and towards her father and brother who are practically vibrating with pride, she can feel the tautness of the string that she’d held onto. Because she hasn't told them; hasn’t told anybody about the breakup. 

Something about vocalizing it had felt just a little too real and Paige had evaded any potential situation that would warrant her having to reveal the tirth. But it hits her now, looking at those damn empty seats that should've been -in another life would’ve been- filled by her other family, that the words she’d been too scared to say out loud -for fear of them being enshrined into reality- had already probably been spoken into existence by someone else. And it hits Paige now, that maybe she’s desperately holding onto a rope that has already been let go of. 

“You good Bueckers?” she whirls around to find Arike looking at her, eyebrows raised in concern. 

“I’m fine,” Paige lies; she’s gotten so incredibly good at that, “just thinking a lot of thoughts.”

Arike nods in understanding, “fair enough. But you got this dude,” she reaches out a hand to squeeze her rookie’s shoulder, “whatever you’re thinking, when you get on that court, none of it’s gonna matter. All that matters for 40 minutes is the game and that we come out of it with a win. You gonna help us win Paige?”

“That’s the fucking plan,” Paige smirks, earning her a matching one from Arike before the shooting guard saunters onto the court, ready for tip-off.

All that matters is the game. 

Paige sucks in a deep breath, letting herself look over at the courtside seats one more time. This is her reality now. There’s no point in waiting for a regretful phone call or a surprise midnight knock on her door because it’s not going to happen. She feels a sense of hollowed acceptance as she finally turns away from the seats, plastering on a confident smile as she takes her place in the Dallas Wings starting five. And Paige is faced with the same truth that she’d learned at a far too young age; that people would leave her but the game never would. 

***

Dallas wins the game by 17 points. Paige’s statline is 21 points, 6 rebounds and 8 assists with 2 steals and a block. It’s a respectable statement from the rookie and her teammates are overjoyed. She’s surrounded by them as they celebrate winning their first game of the season and there’s a sense of hopeful excitement about how the rest of the season could go. Her eyes go over the top of them to find the cute Dallas local reporter that Paige had befriended shooting her a congratulatory wink and she blushes a little bit, looking away bashfully. In the distance, Paige can make out a small crowd of people decked in custom Wings #5 jersey, whistling in excitement. Despite the home fans, their celebration still echoes around the stadium and the loudest cheer comes from her brother who stands next to her father, both of them beaming with pride. And It’s almost enough to prevent her eyes from wandering back to the empty courtside seats. Almost. 

***

It had seemed like a good idea at the time. With the quick transition from the college season into the draft, Paige hadn’t had found time to go home inbetween. And so when the Wings had been making hotel arrangements for DC, she’d opted to stay with her dad and Drew in Maryland instead. But as she stands in the doorway to her bedroom, staring at a wall filled with pictures that are an ode to the past - collages that are practically a shrine to her broken relationship- Paige finds herself longing for the cold, unfeeling exterior of a foreign hotel room. 

Paige’s life can be split into two parts. There’s the Before Azzi and then there’s the With Azzi. And the truth is that there isn’t much from the Before Azzi left in Paige’s life. Every inch of her current life has been touched by the brunette, illuminated by her presence and now, it’s tainted by her absence. Especially in Maryland. Since she’d met the Virginia native, the DMV area had always been synonymous with the Fudds for Paige and she can’t remember a time when she’d been here -when she’d been in this bedroom- and not had plans to see them- to see Azzi. 

She takes a hesitant step inside, eyes gliding over each photograph and it’s like she’s being transported through time. The memories are as vivid as ever, bursting with color as they ellipse her mind. Paige can picture every moment like she’d lived it yesterday. She can still hear their laughter echoing through the air, can feel the softness of their hands -their bodies- brushing against each other, can still taste the lingering sweetness of their lips meeting halfway as they breathed silent promises against each other’s skin. 

A silent sob wracks through Paige’s body as she brushes her fingers over the most recent image of them from December -the last photograph she’d had time to print out. It’s one that Drew had taken of them in the kitchen- Paige propped up on the counter and Azzi in between her legs, one hand on the counter with the other resting right against Paige’s heart. Neither of them had even noticed the little boy, too wrapped up in each other; they were in their own world like they often had been. Azzi’s head is thrown back in laughter -probably at some ridiculous joke her girlfriend had cracked- and Paige has that goofy - just for Azzi- grin on her face as she gazes at the brunette with nothing but adoration. 

The picture is from barely six months ago but they look so young to Paige, so innocent, so naive, so fucking happy, so completely unaware that in a couple of months, one hesitantly spoken word would dissolve that happiness into a puddle of rubble. 

No. 

She thinks that one simple word is destined to echo through her ears, like that unpleasant screech of nails scratching against a chalkboard, for as long as she still has the ability to hear. Paige hadn’t even really heard it at first; it had been said so softly, so quietly, so brokenly and she’d barely seen Azzi’s lips move. For the briefest moment she’d tricked her mind into believing it was just the sound of the wind around them. But then there it was again. 

Louder. 

Stronger. 

No.

Paige’s hands instinctively clasp around her ears, fingers tangling tightly through her blond hair, because she can still fucking hear it. Here in this bedroom, where every corner still holds a little part of Azzi -holds a little part of them- the sting of rejection is louder than it’s been since it had first hit. Because it’s not just the pictures. It’s all the little pieces of them they’d left scattered over Christmas break, thinking they’d come back to it together.

 It’s a set of Azzi’s earrings -one Paige vaguely remembers picking out for her when they’d gone shopping a couple of weeks before- placed delicately on Paige’s dresser. It’s the pink sweater -that neither of them are sure who it originally belongs to but like most of their clothes, is basically a shared item at this point- haphazardly thrown over a chair. It’s that stupid book they’d started reading together -Paige lying across her girlfriend’s lap, toying with her curls as Azzi read the story out loud- still lying on the nightstand, waiting to be finished. 

Despite being alone in her room, Paige finds herself rapidly shaking her head. Because she can’t do this. Can’t spend a night in this room that had barely ever been just hers, had always felt more like theirs. She can’t sleep on that bed, no when her last memory of it is being tangled in the sheets with Azzi on a cold wintry morning, their legs intertwined with each other as they’d giggled to themselves in between languid lazy kisses. And maybe it’s pathetic of her but she can’t find it in herself to unmake the bed, not when her last memory of the two of them in this room is her leaning against the wall, shamelessly checking out her girlfriend as Azzi neatly made the bed, chiding Paige for the nth time on the importance of tidiness. 

“When are you gonna learn how to make your bed,” Azzi had sighed. 

Grinning, Paige had wrapped her arms around her girlfriend from behind, slotting her face into the crevice of Azzi’s neck and brushing her lips against the patch of skin, “I know how to make my bed. I just never have to because I’ll always have you to do it for me.”

Except for the last few weeks, Paige has had to make her own bed and she fucking hates it. 

Breathing sharply, Paige slowly backs out of her bedroom, gently pulling the door shut. She leans her forehead against the cool mahogany frame, trying to calm herself down. There’s been a nonstop dull ache in her chest since that night but tonight feels different, like the cold hands of the past have managed to dig under her ribcage and squeeze her heart  -something sharp digging into her arteries- so hard that it hurts just to exist. Paige gives herself a couple more seconds, creating half-moons as she digs her nails into her palms, before she finally pulls away from the door, heading towards her brother’s room down the hall. 

“You know you really should start knocking before you come into my room,” Drew says with a mock annoyance that’s betrayed by his large grin, as Paige slips into his room, “I’m almost a teenager.”

Despite the heaviness that’s still lingering between her lungs, Paige suddenly finds it a lot easier to breathe. Her little brother’s bedroom is dark, save for red LED lights and dim glow of the TV. Drew is reclined on his bed, gripping a white gaming controller between his hands. 

“You’re always gonna be a baby to me Drewski,” she teases, stepping towards him to ruffle his hair, laughing when he ducks her hand and shoots her an irritated glare in response. 

“Not the hair,” he whines and then groans as his eyes flicker back to the screen, towards the game he'd been playing, “damnit Paigey you just got me killed.”

“Hey hey hey, don’t blame me for your incompetence,” Paige chides. 

Drew rolls his eyes, before reaching over to hand over the other controller, “you wanna play?”

Paige shakes her head, gently pushing his hand away, “nah I just-” she chews at her bottom lip, shuffling her feet with uncharacteristic nervousness, “I was just uh- just wondering if I could stay in here tonight? We could have a sleepover? Like old times? Just you and me.”

It’s heartwarming the way her little bother’s eyes light up -like he’s still the little boy that used to fit perfectly in Paige’s arms, not almost a teenager who’ll eventually be taller than her- as he nods excitedly, scooching over to give his older sister space on his bed. Paige crawls gingerly onto the bed, hesitating for a second, before she lays her head on her brother’s lap, curling into herself. Drew is warm and inviting and familiar and for a second she almost forgets that serrated pain shooting through her nerves. But then it all comes rushing back and Paige has to swallow harshly to keep herself from giving into the fresh new set of tears that are re-emerging on her waterline. 

“Paigey,” Drew whispers softly as he runs his finger through her delicate blonde hair, clearly sensing something’s wrong, “are you okay?”

“I’m fine Drew,” she means to keep her voice strong but it comes out as broken as she feels. 

“Paigey,” the little boy’s voice is more worried now, “should I call Azzi?” 

This time the whimper escapes before Paige can stop it as she tightly closes her eyes. She knows her brother means well; knows that Drew doesn’t really remember Paige without Azzi- doesn’t remember a time before his sister knew how to heal without the brunette’s touch. He’d watched Paige celebrate all her victories with Azzi and he’d seen the same girl hold his sister in all her tragedies, putting her back together every time she broke with promises of you’ll have always have me. From the moment Drew was old enough to understand his sister’s feelings, he was also perceptive enough to understand that Azzi was always what she needed, no matter how she was feeling. And it’s still true, Paige thinks; she wants nothing more than to say yes, wants nothing more than for Drew to call Azzi, so Paige can tell her how much she fucking misses her- how much she fucking needs her. 

Perhaps it's pride or maybe it’s fear, but Paige doesn’t say what she wants. Instead she vigorously shakes her head in her brother’s lap, “n-no it’s fine. I’m fine. It’s late and Azzi’s busy-”

“Azzi’s never too busy for you,” Drew says indignantly, “I’m gonna call her.”

“Drew stop,” Paige’s voice is much firmer this time as she wraps a strong arm around her little brother’s knee, stopping him from moving, “we’re not calling Azzi.”

She could tell him now. After all, she’s going to have to when he inevitably asks why he hasn’t seen Azzi -why he hasn’t seen the girl who’s been a part of his life for more than half of it- in so long. But even though the words sit scratchily on the tip of her tongue, she still isn’t quite ready to spit them out; isn’t quite ready to confront reality. 

“Why not,” petulance coats Drew’s tone. 

“Because I’m fine and I don’t need- I don’t want to talk to her,” Paige lies. 

The little boy scoffs, “you always want to talk to her.”

He doesn’t know the way that simple sentence turns the cracked pieces of Paige’s heart into dust as she tightens her grips on his leg, “Drew please- please just let it go.”

“Why,” Drew argues stubbornly, “why can’t we call her.”

“We just-” Paige’s voice breaks, as she scrambles to wipe her tears before they can wet her little brother’s shirt, “we just can’t okay?”

And there must be something in her voice -the anguish that no amount of trying is able to hide- that Drew pieces together to understand that this isn’t a battle he can win, no matter how much he and Paige might both want him to. The young boy slowly droops his body back to its reclining position, his fingers returning back to Paige’s hair as he begins to stroke her head again. 

“It’s gonna be okay Paigey,” he whispers with all the hopeful innocence of a blissfully naive little boy, “everything gonna be okay.”

And god does Paige want to believe him. But the courtside seats were empty tonight. And she’s in the DMV with no plans to see the Fudds- to see Azzi. And she’ll never know the ending to that stupid book on her bedside table. 

She wants to believe Drew but Paige isn’t sure how anything’s ever going to be okay again. 

***

May 2033 

It should be a joyful moment -the three most important people in her life congregating together- but instead as Paige quietly observes the scene in her living room -Drew silently seething, Azzi fidgeting nervously with her thumbs and Stephie babbling away amidst it all- she feels suffocated by this heavy gray cloud of apprehension lingering above her head. If she’s honest with herself, she’s been on edge for a couple of days now, since training camp had begun to be precise. Since she’d moved to the Bay Area, everything else in Paige’s world had been eclipsed by Azzi and Stephie. The mother-daughter duo were all-consuming and if she’s honest with herself, Paige had been more than happy to let her thoughts -and her heart- be consumed by nothing but the two of them. 

It had been so easy to forget everything else and the tentative verbal three-way deal she technically had with the Valkyries and the Liberty had pretty much ceased to exist in her thoughts. That is until Angie Davis -the lynchpin in this agreement- had been selected, just as everyone had predicted, to the Valkyries. The Stanford PG had shown up to training camp with a shy smile and an eagerness to learn that all the rest of the vets on the team had warmly embraced. But all Paige saw in the girl was the ticking time bomb of a decision she’d forgotten she’d have to make. And it isn’t just the reminder of the decision that has Paige feeling at unease; it’s why she has to make this decision in the first place, the reason behind why she’d agreed to this deal in the first play, why she’d been so adamant for Talia to make sure she didn’t get stuck here. 

Eight years ago, Azzi Fudd had broken her heart and Paige has spent every moment since, trying to collect the shattered pieces and reassemble them. 

And the last thing Paige had wanted to do was give Azzi the hammer to smash her barely fixed heart again. 

That’s what it had felt like when Talia had first brought up the Valkyries offer. It wasn’t that she and Azzi hadn’t been in each other’s orbit the last couple of years -it was impossible not to- but since the breakup, they’d never been around each other long enough, never quite been in the right situations, for that opportunity to present itself again. But Paige had known that if she came to the Valkyries, it would be an inevitability. That belief had only been strengthened the day she’d visited the Bay Area. She’d been adamant from the second she’d gotten on the flight that she couldn’t be persuaded to join Golden State, no matter how much she respected the organization and how well she’d fit into their system; no matter how much she adored the city and its love for her favorite sport.

But then she’d met a little girl who had an identical smile to the one that had held her captive since she was fifteen and barely knew what love was. And if Stephie with her doe-eyed wisdom that Paige would look great in purple wasn’t enough, then there was Azzi. Paige had expected Azzi to tell her to decline the offer. In a way that’s what she wanted; the masochistic need to feel the sting of that rejection again so she wouldn’t be tempted to burn herself in the fire again. But the brunette had done the opposite and Paige had known by just how quick her resolve had succumbed, that she’d been right to fear the inevitability. And it was that fear that had prompted the verbal agreement with the Liberty; an escape plan she’d forgotten she’d devised. 

Because escaping had been the last thing on Paige’s mind the last few weeks. 

All of Paige’s fears and apprehension had seemed to take a backseat the moment Azzi had smiled -hesitant but real- and said she was ready to try, the moment Stephie’s tiny hands had fit perfectly into her own. 

But she can feel it all coming back now, bubbling to the surface and threatening to spill over like lava, wiping out this paradise she’s been in with Stephie and Azzi. It had started with the reminder of the Liberty deal but it’s Drew’s presence -his scowl directed at Azzi that feels like one of a brother still betrayed on his sister’s behalf- that had heightened it. Her little brother’s anger, and the genuine hurt that lingers behind it, feels like a dark reminder of Paige’s own heartbreak. 

Suddenly she feels like she’s 23, playing her first WNBA game and instead of celebrating a solid debut, she’s sobbing in her little brother’s lap over the girl who had walked away. 

“Miss Buecks,” Paige looks down to find Stephie crawling into her lap, “are we ready to order the pizza now?”

The little girl’s arms wrapping around her neck eases some of Paige’s discomfort as she smiles down at Stephie. 

“I’ve been ready for ages. You were the one yapping away,” she teases. 

Stephie pouts, “I don’t yap,” she turns her body towards Azzi, “Mama I don’t yap do I?”

Azzi’s own tense body seems to relax a little as she smirks at the two of them, “you definitely yap Stephie-”

“Mama,” Stephie protests, looking betrayed. 

“But not nearly as much as your Miss Buecks yaps,” Azzi’s eyes twinkle with mirth as Paige splutters, jaw dropping open with mock offense, “between the two of you, it’s a miracle my poor ears haven’t fallen off.”

“Just for that I’m not adding veggies to the pizza,” Paige sticks her tongue out, causing Stephie to giggle and Azzi to roll her eyes at the display of immaturity. 

Paige slips out her phone, pulling up their usual pizza place on doordash and quickly plugs in her memorized orders for everyone in the room as Stephie gets herself comfortable on the blonde’s lap. The five-year old leans her head back against Paige’s chest, who instinctively wraps her free hand around Stephie’s waist, keeping her securely in place. 

“So uncle Drew,” Stephie says with a grin, slightly leaning forward as she addresses the man sitting rigidly on the edge of the sofa, “did Miss Buecks yap a lot when she was younger too.”

“Be careful how you answer that,” Paige warns with a good natured glare in her brother’s direction, trying to lighten his mood. 

It works to an extent as a small smirk slips onto the edges of Drew’s lip, “oh she was a chronic yapper.”

“What does che-ronic mean?” Stephie asks, scrunching her nose in confusion.

Drew laughs, eyes glittering with mischief, “it means she didn’t know when to shut up.”

“Drew Thomas,” Paige guffaws, “you’re supposed to be my little brother, protecting your older sister’s honor and all of that.”

“Hey,” Drew raises his hand in surrender, “my older sister taught me to never lie, especially not to children.”

“Did you really talk that much?” Stephie asks, turning to Paige with wide eyes. 

“Don’t listen to him Stephie-bean,” the blonde says, brushing her hands through Stephie’s curls, “it’s all bullsh-”

“Paige,” Azzi hisses immediately as the older woman bites her lip to stop the curse word from escaping. 

“Bullsharks,” Paige amends, “fake news. False advertising. I was a calm and quiet kid for sure.”

Drew snorts, leaning back into the sofa and Paige lets out a soft sigh of relief at seeing her brother relax. Her eyes flicker over to Azzi, feeling a sense of calmness when she sees the younger girl’s nervous fidgeting has stilled and there’s a tentative smile on her face. 

 “You weren’t calm or quiet,” he says pointedly. 

“Was too,” Paige argues stubbornly. 

“Yes you were,” Drew presses, “Stephie if you don’t believe me, ask your Mama,” he turns to Azzi, “tell her Azzi. She literally yapped your ear off into becoming your friend.”

Azzi blanches, clearly shocked at having been so cavalierly addressed, and even Paige is a little surprised by the expectant “agree with me look” that Drew is giving the brunette after having spent the last moments practically glaring at her. But really it probably shouldn’t be that surprising. Because Drew and Paige are cut from the same material and letting Azzi into the folds seems to just come naturally to both of them. And it’s so familiar to when they’d all been years and years younger -two college students and a little boy - so familiar to the countless nights spent in Minnesota and DC and Connecticut where several silly arguments like this between Paige and Drew had ultimately ended with them both turning to Azzi -the forever moderator- in hopes that she’d side with them. 

She’d always sided with Drew -much to Paige’s chagrin, though she’d been secretly enamored by the relationship between her girlfriend and her brother- and this time is no different as Azzi shakes off the shock, replacing it with a cheeky expression. 

“Didn’t shut up for 14 whole hours,” she laments, her voice filled with teasing but she smiles at the blonde as if she’s reminiscing it, reminiscing the moment that began it all for them and Paige can’t help the hopelessly sappy smile she gives her in return. 

“14 hours? You talked for 14 whole hours, Miss Buecks?” Stephie’s eyes are comically large as she echoes the number. 

“Of course not,” Paige defends, eyebrows creasing as she glares at the other two adults in the room, “this is bullying. Stephie,” she whines, nuzzling her head into the little girl’s neck, “they’re ganging up on me.”

“There there Miss Buecks,” Stephie says diligently as she pats at the older woman’s cheek. 

“We’re just telling the truth,” Drew shrugs. 

“Exactly,” Azzi nods solemnly, “the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.”

She grins, reaching her hand out for a high five and Paige watches as Drew raises his own hand, ready to reciprocate. For a second it feels like everything is coming together; like the past could just stay in the past. But then he stops midair. The easy smile fades from his face and the previous tautness comes rushing back. He pulls his hand back, turning away from Azzi, who’s face slowly falls back. The lightheartedness from mere seconds ago is replaced by the tension from before and that burden of all that’s happened between us returns as a heavy weight pressed against Paige’s heart. 

“Paigey used to yap a lot,” Drew says slowly, “like I said you couldn’t get her to shut up and then one day,” he pauses, angry eyes darting towards Azzi, “one day she just got quiet- she shut up- she stopped yapping all the time.”

“Why?” Stephie asks softly, her tone a mixture of concern and genuine curiosity. 

Paige’s arm tightens around the little girl in her lap as she shoots her brother a pleading look, “Drew-”

“Because someone-” there’s so much venom in the word that it makes Azzi visibly flinch and Paige wants to soothe away the creases forming in her forehead, “someone broke her heart. And it took years- it took years to get her back to normal, to get her yapping again. To get my sister back to who she was.”

There’s pindrop silence as Drew seethes at his own words and Azzi rapidly blinks back tears, until Stephie turns around in Paige’s lap, tiny hands cupping the blonde’s face as she tries not to let her emotions show in front of the little girl. 

“Someone broke your heart?” Stephie looks so upset by the idea that Paige wants to vehemently deny it, “how could anyone break your heart Miss Buecks?”

She means well -just a child concerned for one of her favorite people- but she has no idea of the dagger she’s just twisted in her own mother’s heart as a faint whimper escapes Azzi’s lips. Paige opens and closes her mouth, hopelessly looking at the brunette who’s digging her fist into the sofa, despair embedded all over her face. 

“Stephie-” Paige tries to say. 

“Don’t worry kid,” Drew cuts in instead, his voice steady and firm, “it happened once but I won’t-” his eyes burn with fire as he looks at Azzi, “I won’t let it happen again.”

“Stephie,” Paige says quietly after a moment, her gaze transfixed on Azzi whose doing her absolute best not to let her emotions show in front of her little girl, “sweetheart how ‘bout you show Uncle Drew around the house.”

“I don’t want to see the house,” Drew says petulantly as he stubbornly crosses his arms over his chest

“Yes. You. Do.” Paige grits out, trying not to curse when her younger brother rolls his eyes at her. 

“C’mon Uncle Drew,” Stephie says cheerfully as she slips off of Paige’s lap and reaches a hand out for the man instead, “Miss Buecks has a really cool house and maybe we can go steal some of her cool clothes.”

Drew sighs but he’s not immune to Stephie’s infectious energy. A hint of a grin sneaks through the cracks as he accepts the little girl’s offer. Stephie starts to pull him towards the staircase but the perceptive girl stops for a second in front of her mother, a cautious look on her face as Azzi musters up a grin to mollify the little girl's concern and Drew adamantly averts looking at the other woman. 

“Go on bean,” Azzi urges softly, keeping her shaky voice under control, “go show him the house.”

Stephie nods before gently pressing her lips against Azzi’s cheeks, eliciting a deep breath from her mother, before she practically drags Drew towards the staircase, already speaking a mile per minute.  

There’s a pause, filled with a combination of the quiet rumble of Stephie blabbering upstairs and Azzi’s uneven breathing. Then the tears that the brunette had been trying so hard to barricade behind her eyelids starts cascading down her cheeks and Paige almost trips on her own feet as she moves towards her. She falls to her knees in front of Azzi, gently brushing her against her cheek, before wrapping her hands around her tightly formed fists. 

“Baby don’t cry. Please I hate it when you cry,” Paige whispers softly, pressing her forehead against Azzi’s, “he’s just-”

“He’s right,” Azzi cuts her off, shaking her head. 

“Az-”

“He hates me-”

“He doesn’t-”

“He does,” Azzi presses, her tears falling faster now, “and he should. Paige I did break your heart,” they both flinch at the blunt statement, “and he doesn’t trust me because of it and he hasn’t forgiven me for it. I haven’t forgiven me for it.”

“Baby,” Paige echoes again, unsure what else to say. 

“Have you forgiven me?” 

The question lingers in the air as Azzi looks expectantly at her and Paige stumbles over her words, trying to find the right ones. She doesn’t really know how to answer the questions; hadn’t been expecting to be confronted with it tonight. Paige wants to say yes; she wants to take away Azzi’s guilt so fucking bad. These last few weeks had been so perfect, Paige had convinced herself she was over what had happened almost a decade ago. But if she’s honest with herself -if she’s honest to the memories of every night she’d spent sobbing into her pillows, missing the girl in front of her and resenting her for walking away- Paige doesn’t really know if she has forgiven Azzi. 

“Paige?” Azzi ask again, her voice breaking on the one syllable. 

Paige’s face crumbles as she looks at the girl defenselessly, “ Az, I-”

The doorbell rings at the exact moment and Stephie comes excitedly barrelling down the staircase as the two women scramble away from each other, trying to compose themselves. 

“Miss Buecks, Mama,” the younger girl hollers, “pizza’s here.”

Paige looks at Azzi who’s rushing to wipe away the remnants of her tears. She opens her mouth, desperately willing herself to find something, anything that could offer the girl in front of her some comfort; that could take their relationship away from the precipice of this cliff they’ve somehow found themselves on. But the right words don’t materialize and instead Paige closes her mouth and turns away, slowly heading towards Stephie as Azzi’s question continues to wreak havoc in her mind. 

And she wishes she could rewind the clock and freeze them where they had been just a couple of hours ago, freeze them in a moment where the past hadn’t weighed so heavily on the present. But perhaps the past had always been there and they’d simply just done a marvelous job ignoring it. Except tonight, they can’t seem to ignore it anymore. 

***

Paige thinks pizza has never tasted so terrible in her life. The mood at her basically unused dining table is numbingly sober; even Stephie has stopped her chatter, the little girl clearly picking up on the tense atmosphere around her as she quietly nibbles away at her slice of pizza. It’s in stark contrast to the innumerable dinners they’d had in the last three weeks; the three of them -Paige, Azzi and Stephie in between them- at the table or the counter or sometimes even the couch, raucous with laughter and smiles. Paige doesn’t understand how moments can shift like this; how last night could have been filled with giggles and grins and tonight is filled with nothing but a silence filled with too many unspoken words.

Her eyes flicker over to Azzi, who’s making a concerted effort to keep her own everted from both Bueckers siblings. The brunette’s question from before feels like a loud horn blaring in Paige’s ears, one that she can’t seem to find the off-switch for no matter how hard she searches for it. They’re barely a couple feet apart, sitting opposite each other with Drew next to Paige and Stephie next to Azzi, but the width of the table feels like it stretches for miles. Paige misses the warmth of Azzi’s body pressed against hers, misses the sly brush of their hands before their fingers would inevitably curl around each other’s underneath the table where Stephie couldn’t see. 

“Miss Buecks,” Paige swallows, trying to shake off the feeling of is this us crumbling again, as she diverts attention to Stephie who’s smiling at her with that cheeky grin that means she wants something. 

“What’s up Stephie-bean?” Paige asks and she’s convinced there’s magic in the little girl’s existence because despite the tightness she still feels in her chest, having Stephie close feels like a reason for her to breathe through it. 

“Can I have a soda?” Stephie asks, using the palm of her hands to frame her slightly tilted face as she juts out her bottom lip in a pleading. 

Paige grins, ready to concede as she often is with the little girl but Azzi speaks first, “no soda Stephie.”

Stephie pouts, “why not?”

“Because I said so,” Azzi says bluntly and Paige is taken back by the sharpness of it. 

“Mama please,” Stephie begs, “please, please, please.”

“No Stephie,” there’s a warning edge to Azzi’s tone but Stephie doesn’t pay much heed to it continuing to plead and the irritation on her mother’s face -clearly exacerbated by other things- gets more and more apparent. 

“Please Mama. Pizza just doesn’t go down right without soda,” the little girl argues, “can I please just have a little bit. Just a teeny tiny bit Please, please pretty please please-”

“Stephie, no” Azzi repeats, pinching the bridge of her nose as Drew and Paige exchange nervous glances. 

“Stephie, yes,” the little girl argues, stubbornly crossing her hands over her chest. 

“Ste-”

“I want soda. I want soda. Please, please, please, plea-”

“I said no Stephanie,” Azzi all but yells, startling Stephie into being quiet and making both Drew and Paige flinch. The little girl is wide-eyed for a second -not used to anything but her mother’s normally gentle way of dealing with her occasional brattiness- before her lips begin to tremble and big fat tears begin to spill down her cheeks. She scrambles out of her chair, beelining towards Paige and climbing onto her lap as she burrows her face into the blonde’s neck, wetting her shirt with tears. 

“Shhh, shhh sweetheart it’s okay,” Paige whispers to the little girl, gently rocking the two of them back and forth as she strokes her hair. 

She glances at Azzi, who’s adamantly looking, her face stone cold but regret gleaming in her eyes, “Az-”

“No,” the younger woman says immediately. 

“C’mon,” Paige says exasperatedly, “you don’t even know what I was gonna say.”

“If it’s about giving her a soda, I don’t wanna hear it,” Azzi warns, “you can’t just give into all of her demands all the time, you have to learn to say no and she needs to learn to hear it.”

“I hear you but Az it’s a Friday-”

“Paige-”

“A tiny bit of soda to start the weekend can’t hurt. In fact,” Paige smirks down at the little girl in her lap as she coaxes Stephie’s face out of her neck so she can wipe away the tears on her blotchy red face, “I think a little soda to start the weekend is probably good for you.”

She feels her heart soar when it makes Stephie giggle, letting out a couple teary hiccoughs in between as she clutches onto Paige. 

“I think so too Mama,” the little girl echoes, looking back at her mother with a timid grin. 

“Give in Azzi,” Paige matches the pleading smile on Stephie’s face as she turns her focus onto the brunette, “she deserves a little treat 

“I know what she deserves. I think I know what’s good for my daughter,” Azzi says steely and Paige feels something cold squeezing through her ribcage, “no soda Stephie. End of discussion.”

My daughter. 

The thing is Paige doesn’t even really think she has the right to be upset over Azzi’s statements. Really, it’s nothing but the truth. Stephie is Azzi’s daughter and Azzi definitely knows what’s good for her daughter. So why does it sting like this? Why does it feel like little shards of ice piercing into her heart, leaving deep gashes that have her whole body feeling like it’s freezing over? Paige knows why, knows that these past weeks had been enough to trick her mind into believing the mirage that Stephie was hers. But now Azzi’s flicked her fingers against it causing the whole fantasy to come crashing down and Paige feels herself slowly getting buried under the rubble of it. 

“Right," she says softly, trying to keep her voice steady, “she’s your daughter and you know best,” she ignores the tinge of guilt in Azzi’s eyes as she turns to Stephie who looks like she’s ready to protest again, “you heard your Mama Stephie. No soda tonight.”

“But Miss Buecks-” Stephie whines. 

“No sweetheart,” Paige says gently, shaking her head. 

The little girl narrows her eyes before letting out a frustrated groan as she slips off of Paige’s lap. She loudly stomps her feet, glaring at all the adults in the room before she angrily storms upstairs. It’s so unlike the usually even-keeled little girl that Paige thinks it’s probably a reaction to the tension she can sense between the adults. Her eyes drift over Drew -who’s chewing at his lips in a similar manner to how his big sister often does- before locking with Azzi’s and she feels that familiar guilt of there’s always collateral damage for our mistakes pooling at the pit of her stomach. The brunette breaks eye contact first, letting out a heavy sigh before she follows behind her daughter and Paige lets her face fall into her hands, 

It feels like everything’s in free fall, like during an earthquake when everything shakes and the books -the complicatedly tangled stories of the past and present- go flying from their shelves. Paige rubs at her eyelids, trying to make this helpless feeling go away. Her fingers are coiled tightly around a rope, just like they had been on that night eight years ago and just like that night, she can feel the tips of them starting to bleed. She can feel Drew’s gaze fixated on her; can tell he’s contemplating whether to say something or not. Swallowing, Paige pulls her face out of her palms to look at her brother, a decisively defiant expression on her face. 

“Something you wanna say?” she asks him, cocking her eyebrows as if she’s daring him to speak. 

Drew hesitates for a second before an almost identical expression crosses his face, “what the fuck are you doing Paige?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Paige replies airly. 

Drew narrows his eyes at her, “seriously?”

“Seriously,” Paige shrugs. 

“This was supposed to be a temporary arrangement Paige,” Drew says, ignoring the way his sister flinches at the reminder as he drops his voice lower so they can’t be overheard, “you were supposed to be with Golden State for one season, hopefully win a championship and then you’d be off to New York at the end. That was the plan but clearly all of that has gone flying out the window. You’re getting attached to this city, this life, to them.” 

A barely believable “of course I’m not,” flutters weakly off of Paige’s lip as she blinks rapidly at the accusation. 

“Oh for fucks sake,” Drew curses, “Paige your bed looks like it hasn’t been slept in, in days. There’s almost no groceries in your fridge or your pantry. From what I saw of the garden, it’s basically been left for dead. Your closet is half empty and it sure as shit isn’t because they’re all in the laundry because as Stephie puts it, Azzi says that their laundry basket is three times heavier than it used to be with all your clothes.”

“I-I don’t-” Paige stutters, “that- that doesn’t- doesn’t mean-”

“It’s been two months -if even that- two months Paige and I think you're in even deeper now than you were the last time,” Drew spits the last two words out bitterly like their flames on the tip of his tongue and the sparks of it singe Paige’s skin. 

“That’s not- I’m not-” she tries to justify but it sounds hollow to her own ears. 

“You are,” Drew says exasperatedly, “what are you gonna do when she walks away again? When she lets you go again, what are you gonna do Paige?”

Her little brother isn’t cruel but Paige swears she’s never heard anything more aimed to hurt than these perfectly directed arrows he’s launching straight at her heart. The defense of she’s not going to leave me stays stuck in her throats, battling against the harsh thoughts of she already has that are taunting her. 

“She- I- you- this- I don’t- you can’t-” Paige doesn’t even know what she’s trying to say; she feels like a fish spluttering outside of the water, desperate to breathe air that seems to kill her the more she inhales it. 

Drew looks away, his face crumpling slightly, a mixture of sadness and guilt gleaming in his eyes, and Paige can tell that he hates himself a little for being the one to cause her this torment, the one to make her face the darkest possibility of her reality. 

“I was there Paige,” he says softly, “I was the one who watched you break in ways that I didn’t even think you were breakable,” his voice snaps, “and I was the one who watched how hard you had to work to put yourself back together. I don’t wanna see any of that again.”

“Drew,” Paige whispers. 

“And it wasn’t just her,” Drew continues, “you lost her family too.”

Paige gulps at the reminder, “they were still there. They came to games. They were at my wedding.”

Drew shakes his head, “but it wasn’t the same and you know it. You lost her and you lost them and this time,” he bites his lip, like he wishes the next words weren’t sitting on his vocal chords, waiting to spill out, “this time, if you lose her, you’ll lose a lot more.”

“What do you-” Paige heistates, unsure if she even wants to ask, “what do you mean?”

Her little brother pauses, mouth opening and closing like it’s painful to speak, before his eyes drift towards the stairs and Paige feels her heart sinking even before Drew says the words she knows he’s about to say. 

“You’ll lose her daughter. You’ll lose Stephie.”

“No,” the whispered syllable is out before Paige can even stop it, “no, no, no, no-”

“Paige-”

“Stop it Drew,” the blonde says louder than she wanted to as she clutches at her heart, trying to keep it whole as the tears overflow over her waterline. 

“Stop what Paige? Stop saying things you already know deep down but are choosing to ignore? Is that what you want me to stop doing?” Drew asks harshly. 

“Drew-”

“There’s a reason you didn’t want to commit to the Valkyries and you know it. There’s a reason you only wanted to be here for this season.” her younger brother says firmly. 

“I know,” Paige whispers, “I know.”

Drew’s eyes soften, “stick to plan Paige. Let the Liberty be the end goal. You’ll be in New York by the end of October.”

Paige bites her lip so hard, she can taste that morbid taste of iron on her lips as she opens her mouth to say something. She’s not sure if it’s to argue with Drew or to agree and she doesn’t get a chance to find out. Instead there’s a sharp intake of breath and then a quiet, timid voice laced with accusation and Paige feels the blood drain out of her body as she slowly turns around to find Stephie and Azzi -their faces ashen with identical expressions of betrayal- staring at her. 

“Miss Buecks, you’re moving to New York?”

[tahbhie]

How Plot Progression Works—Myths and Facts.

Let me start with a myth.

Last week, a writer approached me with their half-finished draft, unsure how to continue. Apparently, they got writer's block in the middle of the work. For about thirty minutes, we discussed the book freely as if it were a finished and published work.

Then I realized the issue.

☞ The problem?

From the conversation, I noticed that the writer's thoughts and ideas, which they voiced for the book, totally contradicted what they had written.

Their book followed a sequence of events. It was well-calculated, and the plot progression was on point but only to a certain level. I noticed robotic recurrences.

Something like this:

Scene 1— a sudden revelation

Scene 2— an unexpected fight

Scene 3— introduction of a new character

Scene 4— a conflict

Scene 5— another sudden revelation

Scene 6— an unexpected fight

Scene 7— introduction of a new character

Scene 8— a conflict

Meanwhile, all these elements didn't tie to each other in the story. They just performed different roles in each scene and were rendered useless in the next and every other scene that followed.

☞ Why did this happen?

Among other reasons, being extremely rigid with writing advice is a main factor.

Writing advice is great, but don't bend your style to suit the rules; bend the rules to suit your style.

Here's a clearer example of what I'm talking about.

Writing advice often says to keep readers on the edge of their seats within the first five pages, but this doesn't mean introducing unrealistic problems that don't fit your story. For example, introducing a sudden and improbable conflict just to add excitement can disrupt the flow and believability of your plot

During our session, I already understood how to assist, and we were setting our comfortable hours when the writer suddenly said, "I was told to include conflict in the middle of the book, then I ran out of ideas when I got there. I could have added one just a few pages in because I believe it would do well there, but again, I was unsure if that would make sense."

Now, who said conflict can't start a book? When you start your book with a conflict, you just have to ensure that you build towards 'the reason' behind the conflict so your readers can understand.

☞ Should I follow every writing advice with a closed mind?

No, you shouldn't. Remember that you are writing that book because you want to, and your idea was great enough to convince you to actually write. You need to enjoy the process and create what you truly want to create. Follow instructions flexibly.

Now that the myth is out of the way, let's talk about things that make a plot.

➜ Basic plot elements.

Initially, your plot should have the following:

✧ Protagonist ✧

Who are readers following in the story? Make that clear in the first few chapters. If you're writing from a first-person point of view and plan on switching between characters, aim for a maximum of two characters. It becomes clear that those two characters are an important part of the story; hence, they get the privilege to narrate the story from their respective views.

✧ Goals and objectives ✧

What is your protagonist after? Here's one thing you should know: your character doesn't have to know what they want at the beginning of the story. They may be as confused about their life as anyone reading, but as the story unfolds, they find a goal worth reaching and discover the needed strength to reach the goal.

✧ Antagonist ✧

What/Who is standing as a threat? A threat is hell-bent on ruining your protagonist and stopping them from achieving their goals. An antagonist could be an object or a human. It all depends on the concept you aim for. Funny enough, the antagonist could be a lie that starts out seemingly small but ends up being harmful. The rom-com movie "Upgraded" is an example of this concept. The lie the art enthusiast told was the greatest trouble she faced.

✧ Conflict ✧

What are the problems the protagonist faces? Problems can start from anywhere over anything, and you can choose to make them mild and solvable at first while building up to something larger.

✧ Resulting consequences ✧

What happens after the protagonist faces the trouble and tries to solve it? Did they lose anything? Hurt someone? Earn support from people they least expect?

✧ Character arc ✧

How has the journey shaped your protagonist? After going through something they probably never saw coming, how has it changed them? For a timid main character at the beginning of the story, do they finally become brave and display a different side of themselves?

All these are important for a well-rounded story as a whole.

Join the Writers' Universe and connect with like-minded writers.

➜ Secondary plot elements

These elements help you shape the above category.

● Setbacks

Let's use movies to illustrate this. There are certain points where we lose hope for the main character, almost convinced they've lost. We see them at their weakest points, hurt that the antagonist got them good. These moments are the setbacks. The protagonist is made vulnerable.

● Loss

What did the setback cost them? The reason I intentionally labeled this as loss is because to move a plot forward, some things need repairing. Since most loose ends were already from the beginning of the story, adding a fresh loss piques the reader's interest. It doesn't have to be the death of someone. It could be the brutal end of an alliance formed on an emotional scale.

● Break of a new dawn

I just wanted to get creative with the title. This point marks the pivotal change of events, and once again, there's hope for the protagonist as they find solutions to their problems. In this stage, they discover hidden abilities within themselves (this isn't limited to fantasy).

And there you have the important sections of plot progression. But keep these few things in mind. To ensure you're not leaving a huge gap in your plot, try to:

┗→ Introduce elements that work for your story:

It's common to believe something works well simply because it did in your favorite book. You might want to reconsider that with a different mindset.

┗→ Tie elements together:

Of course, this doesn't apply to all, but try to create a link between events in your story. If a fight occurred in a scene, link it to a cause in a few scenes ahead. This can lead to another conflict, this time on a larger scale, without having to introduce something entirely different.

And back to the question that birthed this post:

ᴥ Should conflict come early or not?

It depends on your work, but it can come early. That's not taboo.

There was a movie I watched featuring a female lawyer as the protagonist. The movie started with the kidnap of her only child, and the rest of the scenes drove us to the 'cause,’ then more conflicts, setbacks, and finally resolution. We were also able to explore the character’s personality based on the decisions she took in different emotional scenes.

She tried to keep her calm in some scenes while she just flat-out threw a tantrum in others, but overall, she was a strong woman who was broken by the incidents occurring and then rebuilt. I read a book with the same premise: the main character was a tween who misplaced something precious and decided to go on an adventure to search for it, and that was what the story was built upon.

I always tell writers one thing—own your book. The first draft seems to be the toughest one of its pair, but if you don't allow yourself to freely express your thoughts, there will be no first draft or story at all.

✧✧✧✧

Struggling with any stages of writing? Send me a message, and let's sort it out for a suitable fee.

✧✧✧✧

Do you want to create characters readers are compelled to start a fandom for?

Check out "My Characters and I" extensive coaching session. Understand the secret behind every attractive character. The slots are limited, and this opportunity closes once capacity is reached. Don't miss it; you never know when you’ll stumble upon these golden gates again.

[charlotteking23]

The Lion's Lamb - Chapter 3 - MV1/33

Max Verstappen x reader

The Lion's Lamb Series: Aesthetics, Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.4, Ch.5, Ch.6, Ch.7, Ch.8, Ch.9

Max was a beautiful man. He was even more beautiful when he smiled.

His smile wasn't full-on but slight, with his lips turning upwards in the corner only. But to you, making the man in front of you smile was your goal.

"Tell me about yourself," he said gently.

"About me?" You needed clarification. Normally, when you talk to men, especially the ones that live in Monaco permanently, they don't care to know about you.

"You are (name), aren't you?" His thick eyebrows arched questionably.

Blushing, you lowered your head, looking at your cup in between your hands. You see a hand reach across the table and land on your chin, slowly lifting it so your eyes meet blue, "No. I don't like you looking away. I want to see your eyes on me."

You blushed again at the man's words, biting your lip anxiously. His eyes immediately get drawn to your pink lip between your teeth.

Noticing his shift of attention to her lip, she decides to speak, "My (name) (last name) and I'm 23."

Max was surprised that was all you said. Most women he met would never give him a chance to speak, continuously talking about their lives to try to impress him.

"Are you from Monaco?" He asks, trying to get you to continue

"No," You shake your head lightly "I'm originally from the U.S. and came here about a year and a half ago."

"What brought you here?"

"The people," you shrug, "not to be weird about it but everyone here is wealthy. My clientele is mainly wealthier people."

"What do you do for a living then?"

"I'm an artist. Specifically a painter," You visibly become happy when talking about your job. It was obvious to see you love what you do.

You start to ramble on about your job until you realize what you were doing and start to blush, "Sorry. I ramble a lot."

Max chuckles, sending shivers down your spine "I don't mind. I love hearing the sound of your voice."

Blushing even deeper and smiling, you change the topic to save yourself from any more embarrassment, "what about you? Where are you from?"

"I'm originally from Belgium but grew up in the Netherlands most of my life."

"And for work?"

"I work with cars," he vaguely answers. You raised your eyebrow knowing there's more to the answer but decided not to push.

"And that brought you to Monaco?"

"For a time," he shrugs. "I travel a lot for work and only really have about a total of 4 months here in Monaco."

"Where do you travel for work?" Your eyes light up again at the thought of traveling.

You always wanted to travel but haven't been able to do it financially nor do you have any idea where you'd want to go.

Max smiles at you and goes into depth about some of his favorite places to go. He realizes his job is amazing but can't help but wish he had more time to spend with his family.

Though, his lifestyle hasn't affected him much because he's a loner. But sitting there with you, he can't help but hope to come home more often to see the beautiful woman more often.

The pair continued to talk for about another hour or so before they were interrupted by your phone ringing.

You give the blue-eyed man an apologetic smile before answering the phone, "hello?"

"Where the hell are you?" You hear your roommate yell at you through the phone. Your roommate wasn't someone you would willingly have in your life. If you could you'd live by yourself.

"I'm getting coffee," Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"I need you home because I have people coming over and the house is a mess! You have to come home now and clean it all up!"

Max didn't know who was on the other end of the phone but just by her tone, he didn't like her. No one should yell at you like that.

"What do you mean? When I left, the house was perfectly clean."

"Well, it was until I spilled soda everywhere so I need you to help clean up!"

Deciding not to fight with your roommate, you just sighed, and told the girl you would come home now and hung up the phone.

"Everything alright?" Max asked.

"Yeah just got to help my roommate clean up the mess she made because she wants to have people over," You sighed again.

"You shouldn't have to clean up her messes."

"I know but it's easier not to argue with her," you started to gather your things and stood up.

You reached into your purse, pulled out a pen wrote something on the napkin, and handed it to the man. "Here. It's my number. Text me and we'll do this again"

You smile softly at the man before leaning in and kissing him on the cheek before turning away and leaving. You hadn't registered what you had done until you were almost home.

You stopped mid-walk, a smile plastering your face. You didn't mean to do that, but you were happy you did. You smiled the entire way back to your apartment.

Max was stunned by your boldness. You were so innocent and naive yet here you were giving your phone number to him and kissing his cheek.

Something about you made you stand out from everyone else. He didn't know what it was yet but he couldn't wait to see you again.

Taglist: @shelbyteller, @smithieandy, @fangirlforever2000, @herexpertcollector

[jsooly]

death in the family (3) / sully family x human!daughter/sister!reader

synopsis, your family leaves to seek uturu with the ocean clans.

(1) / . . . / (6*) / (7) / (8* - ur here! ☆)

+ chapters with an * beside it means that it’s following atwow plot line as opposed to disconnected scenarios

norm found you passed out at your usual spot by grace's old computer, with the site 26 log archives pulled up.

jake informed him of his plan. norm was never much of a leader when it came to war, but he knew how to manage people. taking over grace's position as research head and avatar leader required a large amount of intuition. having to know what was going on in a person's head was important in this period of turmoil.

it didn't take much to read you. your eyes were puffy, cheeks streaked with tears, and the frown on your face was undeniable, even as you slept.

norm watched you grow up—watched you attach yourself to jake, as he watched the marine attach himself to you. this decision was equivalent to separating something inextricable. like attempting to pull the moon away from the tide—the water will always stretch towards it.

norm gently shook you awake.

"hey." he whispered. "don't wanna be late for dinner."

you groaned at the thought, your eyebrows downturned with just the thought of what awaited you back home. your heart squeezed thinking of your sisters and brothers waiting expectantly for your return even though your mind replayed jake's words over and over and over again.

you got up, stretching. "thanks." you mumbled as you headed out.

"wait! y/n, it's pretty dark out." he gently warned you, though you weren't in the mood to be reminded of all of pandora's dangers. "do you want to call someone to help you back?"

you shook your head. "i'll be fine. see you in the morning."

"hey." norm caught up to you, putting his hand on your shoulder. "we'll get through this, okay? like old times."

you paused, your eyes fixed on the ground. every comfort offered to you irritated you beyond belief. you found yourself grappling with a compulsive anger. you wanted to scream, what about this is 'like old times?'

you settled for a nod. because the sanest part of you counseled your temper with the fact that norm was just trying to help.

he pat you in farewell, walking you to the door. you accepted a cloak from him, as it was wet and chilly tonight. you tugged the hood over your head as you vanished into the darkness.

as you made your way through the flora, your stomach grew heavy with unease the closer you got to home. it certainly didn't help when you had to scale the gargantuan vines to high camp.

your feet touched down on the omaticaya base, and you have never been happier to feel the cold hard rocks under your feet. you decided to never climb those vines late at night ever again.

"y/n!" lo'ak appeared in front of you, his bioluminescent spots framing his feline eyes in the darkness.

you jumped, your fist flying out instinctively.

lo'ak groaned, clutching his arm in pain. "what the hell?"

"lo'ak!" you gasped, before smacking him again, hard, in annoyance. "don't scare me like that!"

"ow, why again?!" lo'ak grunted, stepping back from you with a pout. "where have you been?"

"i fell asleep at norm's." you explained, briefly glancing over his arm for any real damage. when you found none, you walked past him.

he followed you like a puppy, his eyes darting to your face every now and then to assess your mood.

"uh... mom made teylu for dinner." lo'ak perked up, hoping the familiar dish would earn some excitement from you.

"that's nice." you say plainly, too much on your mind to match his energy.

he sighed, agitated, pulling you to a stop. "i'm sorry if—" his frown deepened, his eyes avoiding yours.

your gaze focused on him, a note of concern swirling in your eyes.

"i'm sorry i didn't listen to you. i didn't mean to make things worse." he admitted. "you know, back at the shack..."

you blinked in realization, smiling to ease his apprehension. "was it a stupid decision? kinda. but you did what you felt was right. you’re good at looking out for me, but i’m even better at looking out for you. i’ve been doing it for fifteen years, you know. you need to trust me more.”

“you’re just so…” fragile. human. “small.”

“that was the one you decided on?” you smiled genuinely, your face muscles aching from ugly crying a few hours prior.

you knew what he was getting at when he trailed off. he had self-appointed himself as your bodyguard for as long as you remember, even though he was the one in need of rescuing most times.

lo’ak’s smile was sheepish. “that was the first time i saw you fight. like, really fight. scary. why doesn’t dad let you in the militia, again?”

“take a wild guess.” you prompt him as you both resume your slow pace back to the marui.

“but you could fly a scorpion!” lo’ak protested. you didn’t have an ikran. being on the ground during the raids on the RDA would be more trouble than help.

“those helicopters are for research purposes so there’s no guns on them or anything.”

before lo’ak could speak up again, tuk came racing up to you. she grabbed your hand, pulling.

“you’re back!” she exclaimed. you smiled and rubbed her head. footsteps padded closer to reveal neteyam and kiri, frowns set on their faces.

the five of you remained in a circle for a length of time, the truth hanging in the back of your heads: not for long.

the beads of the marui knocked together as neytiri emerged. “come.” she ordered. “eat.”

—

dinner was unnaturally quiet. as if everyone was afraid to chew.

you barely met jake’s eyes as he sat across from you and he barely met yours.

after a while of awkward silence, neytiri frustratedly nudged her husband. “say something.” she hissed in a whisper.

her stern expression never wavered, not even with jake’s pleading look. he sighed, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. he needed to address this with care and caution if he didn’t want it to get worse.

“baby,” he started, setting down his teylu. “i want you to know that i was upset, so i didn’t come off the way i wanted to.”

you stared him dead in the eyes, reluctantly hearing him out. you had nowhere to run.

the kids’ eyes nervously darted back and forth between their father and oldest sister, anticipating another explosive argument.

“it wasn’t easy raising you here, but i don’t regret a second of it. i’d do it the exact same way again and again. what i want to avoid is animosity towards you.” he circled the table, sitting next to you. not too close, but not far away either. “you bear so much on your shoulders, and you’ve come so far with the clan. i don’t want to see you start over with a people who are even more hostile.”

you remained silent, unable to sneak a glance at jake’s face. you feared the need to be comforted by him would be too great to stand your ground.

“i am always gonna come back for you.” he scooted closer still, desperate to catch your eyes. he couldn’t bear you being mad at him, not for one second. the way you refused to look at him wounded him greatly. “when we establish ourselves.”

the worst part about it all was you understood. you weren’t blind to reality—it would be harder to connect with other clans with a sky person in tow. the omaticaya were harsh, and you practically grew up with them. it wasn't hard to extrapolate the response from a foreign clan.

you just hoped being a family meant they’d take you with them regardless. that it wouldn’t have mattered that other peoples would reject them because that would be better than rejecting you. what was the acceptance of a clan compared to you? what happened to sullys stick together?

“y/n?” jake called softly, gentle as if not to spark your anger.

sometimes he felt he was going crazy when he recognized glimpses of neytiri in your face. nothing linked you two biologically, yet the same pensive intensity was written across your features. an unforgiving presence that’s ready to tell him off at any given moment.

it's part of the reason he chose lightning bug as your call sign. you could take and take and take all the garbage people dumped on you, but one drop too far and you lashed out. swift and precise, like lightning.

it was rare to see it once you finally learned to spare yourself the headache and handle all the backhanded comments, the outrage at your mere presence, the alienation… the more as you matured, the more garbage you were able to carry.

jake was afraid he would be the one drop to set it all up in flames. yet he almost hoped you would—he knew he deserved it.

“y/n?” he asked, even softer.

“i heard you.” was all you said, grabbing some more food.

neytiri frowned, her eyes darting to jake helplessly. jake’s shoulders slumped but he accepted that was all he was going to get.

the dinner continued relatively peacefully. jake didn’t return to his original spot, getting as close to you as you’d allow him.

—

somehow, tuk wormed her way into your sleeping pod. and then kiri moved hers closer, then lo’ak, and finally neteyam. all the kids piled onto one side, making the marui seem empty.

jake stood over his five kids, hands on his hips as he observed them fondly. neytiri came up behind him, running her hand down his back.

“there is not much you can do now. what’s done is done.”

“i don’t want her to be mad at me.” jake whispered. “i don’t want to leave like this.”

neytiri softened, resting her head against his shoulder. “her anger will leave. her hurt will remain. and it will stay this way until we come back for her.”

jake sighed, running his hand over his face roughly. “i just—i don’t know what to do. i don’t want to be in a situation out there where i have to choose them over her or her over them.”

what do you think you’re doing now? a voice in his head nagged.

his heart sunk further. he was scared, scared of what that madman would do to his family. scared that he wouldn't be around to protect you all when you needed him the most. he hoped that by moving away, quaritch would stay on his tail and lose interest in you.

neytiri raised her eyebrow, giving her husband an empathetic look. “i trust you with many things, jake. if you think it’s best to leave, i will follow. the kids will… come to understand.”

“do you think…” jake trailed off. “do you think we’ll ever be the same?”

neytiri didn’t respond. the answer was clear.

jake inhaled deeply. it was too late to turn back now.

—

toruk makto will disappear. that was jake’s promise.

tarsem was jake’s choice for olo’eyktan. unable to go through with the traditional ritual of killing the previous clan leader, he sliced jake’s chest with a heavy heart.

the leader must die. so the leader can be born.

you weren’t present at the ceremony, instead watching from afar. you watched the farewell with a growing bitterness, but you knew the biggest underlying feeling was the hurt. you didn’t want to see them go.

the clan shared your sentiment. wailing and cries filled the air.

mo’at wove mourning garments for herself and you. the two of you weren’t particularly close but you were respectful of each other’s role in the family. you often hung around her tsahik marui where soldiers come for healing.

she appreciated your extensive knowledge on the flora and fauna of pandora, often quizzing you on what she was using in her salves and ointments.

you waited with her for the sullys, tending to the ikran.

you smoothed your hand down the crest of jake’s ikran, bob. he chirred happily, flexing his wings slightly.

behind him, a woodsprite wafted along the breeze. you frowned in confusion. eywa’s seeds, all the way up here?

you watched it closely while it moved through the space as it pleased. it hovered around you, landing on your shoulder. you stood completely still, it’s delicate tendrils brushing your skin. it ballooned when it took flight once again, gaining height and finding respite atop your head.

mo’at’s sideways glance pulled you out of your wonder.

“probably got lost.” you chucked nervously, feeing scrutinized under mo’at’s steady stare. you knew where neytiri’s fiery eyes came from.

“eywa does not make mistakes, child.” she said slowly, expertly concealing her curiosity.

the sullys approached their ikran, ready to go. the woodsprite fluttered away from you.

tuk whined as she rushed up, clinging to mo’at. the grandmother soothed her.

lo’ak frowned as he approached you, unable to hide the emotion on his face. you opened your arms and he ran into them, hugging your tightly.

“come with us,” he whispered. “i’ll hide you on my ikran.”

you laughed. “we caused enough trouble this week.”

he clutched you tighter. “shut up. i’m being serious.”

“me too.” you mumbled, rubbing his back in comfort.

he pulled back, helplessness weighing down his youthful features. you offered him a sad smile before he stormed off to his ikran, wiping his face roughly.

kiri fell into your arms next. “who will help me handle with those two skxawngs?”

you snickered. “i think you’re an expert now. it’s time you take on your own apprentice.” you winked, nodding to tuk.

kiri rolled her eyes. “tuk will tell on all of us. don’t think that’s much of an alliance.” she laughed softly before her aura grew depressive.

you cocked your head. “what’s wrong?”

“it’s just—“ she sighed. “i’m worried about spider.”

spider. taken by the RDA. your jaw set with determination. you squeezed her hands. “i’ll look out for him, okay?”

her posture raised as a grateful smile replaced her frown, and she squeezed your hand in farewell. tuk jumped on you, refusing to let you go until neytiri pried her off.

"y/n," neytiri hummed, her voice soft and smooth like nectar. her head fell to her shoulder as she blinked back tears, grabbing your shoulders and pulling you into her side. she held you tightly, afraid to let go. "i will not say goodbye, because i promise you this is not the end."

"i know," you fought the ball of emotion in your chest, trying your best to remain strong for their sakes. but as soon as neytiri reluctantly released you, her hand cupping your face gently before mounting her ikran, you felt the gaping absence in your soul.

your eyes scanned the area, missing one very important person. you passed all the others preparing their ikran, rounding neteyam's steed and finding him quietly adjusting the saddle.

you crossed your arms as he ignored you. "no goodbye?"

he didn't spare you a glance, his eyebrows knitting as the frown in his face deepened.

"seriously?" you walked up closer to him, a mix of confusion and offense in your tone.

he glimpsed at you and you immediately understood. in most things, neteyam was the big one. the big guy on the field, on lookout, cleaning up after lo'ak. at home was the only place he didn't have to shoulder it all.

he had to say goodbye to his big sister, his first best friend and protector. how would he bear the weight of being jake sully's first son without jake sully's first daughter? the kids would look to him now. he would have to be the mediator, give the advice, fight the fights. neteyam was able to be brave out there because he knew you were standing behind him.

you gave him a dispirited smile as you opened your arms in invitation. once you made the gesture, he wasted no time embracing you. no words were exchanged, but the two of you shared an understanding.

"saddle up!" jake called to the family.

neteyam smiled at you, his eyes clouded. he ruffled your head before jumping on his banshee.

you stepped away from them, watching as their ikrans chirped lively. jake approached you.

"i meant what i said." jake grasped your shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly.

you were not soothed by his gesture at all. you merely nodded out of respect.

"hey," he caught your gaze, his face open and vulnerable.

you watched as neytiri led the children out. their banshees were hesitant to leave the cliff, picking up their own unwillingness to take flight in the forest for the last time.

jake held you tightly, as if letting go would make the distance between you real. he never thought he’d be apart from you—much less that it would be by his own doing.

“i'm your father, y/n. no matter what. that must mean something.” he whispered.

you begged yourself not to give in to your impulse. but regret wasn’t a enough to satiate your anger.

“my father is dead.” you bit out.

jake paused.

swift and precise, like lightning.

he exhaled softly, shakily. his face barely shifted, but something in his eyes flickered—pain, maybe understanding. he swallowed, then simply squeezed you tighter, kissing your forehead.

—

the leader must die, so the new leader can be born.

jake left tarsem in charge of the omaticaya. he was unaware he was set the stage for a different kind of leader to emerge. eywa already began to show her hand this day—you just had to realize it.

. . .

thanks for reading! <3

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© jsooly ‘25

[kingkat12]

chasing sleep (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, piv sex, morning sex, attempting-to-stay-quiet sex, Roman loves tits (oops), reader on top, dub-con elements, needle-gate is back lol, dark!Roman returns, fluff, angst, and reader is fucking brainwashed cause girl stand up for yourself wdym

summary: everything seems to be going perfect for you-- you've got the guy, after all. however, you're still haunted by the life you gave away to be with him, and specifically, the girl you left behind. will Roman ever fully trust that you won't leave him?

word count: 11,308 (merry christmas tihi)

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12

a/n: celebrating 700 followers AND christmas with this monster of a chapter!! I love all of you, thank you once again for your amazing support, I LOVE YOU!! this fanfic is nearing the end now, so... hold on tight for what's about to come;) ENJOY, MWAH<3

"You didn't say goodbye, and now a part of me believes that means you're coming back,"  

Over and over again, those words echoed in my ears. I had read it in a passage somewhere, probably in the new romance novel I had picked up a few days ago, and now it truly haunted me. Latched onto my guilt, my love, my very being-- I wasn't sure whether I was capable of letting it all go, despite how happy Roman made me. 

Was that maybe why I ended up right here, right now?

"Do you think it could work again?" Letha echoed, turning to me. Her legs were dangling off my roof as we sat by the edge. A soft breeze moved her long, blonde hair away from her shoulders, and just like that, I was reminded of how truly beautiful she was. It must be a genetic thing for all the Godfreys to be breathtaking. However, the look in Letha's green eyes told me something was wrong, but I couldn't put my finger on it. It was almost as though I was looking back at her with a grey-ish filter, like my vision was making it seem like we were sitting in a cloud of fog. None of this looked real. 

"What could?" I asked, turning to check my surroundings-- yeah, this was definitely my roof. Why were we here?

"Us," Letha's gaze awaited me as I faced her again, and it was heartbreakingly sad. "You and I. Our friendship."

It felt like I had dipped the tips of my fingers in cold water. "Letha... Come on," I reached for her hand, placing mine above hers with a sigh; "This ended a long time ago. I don't think we can salvage this--"

"But what if we could?" Letha's voice was so painfully sweet, so insistent. "Do you think it could work again?"

"What could?"

"Us," she breathed, turning her hand to intertwine our fingers with an unusually hard grip. It didn't feel so sweet anymore. "You and I. Our friendship."

The red lights in my mind went off like police sirens-- something was off. With my next glance at her hair, it was no longer that same warm shade of blonde. Now, I could argue it was actively turning white before my eyes. 

This wasn't real. "Letha?"

"Yes?"

"... Am I dreaming?"

Letha's eyes softened as the green in them dulled down, bordering a bleak color of grey. "Yes," she said. "I'm looping it until you're honest."

"What do you mean?--"

"You'll wake up when you tell me the truth. If you want to help your subconscious let go of the guilt, you should do it,"

My heart was actively breaking. Looking into Letha's blank eyes, I realized it reminded me of the look she had on her face when I first told her about Roman and me. "Ask, then,"

I could see her emotions clutching her soul like an unforgiving fist despite this only being a dream. My head didn't have any problems conjuring the image of her as a kicked, wounded puppy. She spoke; "Do you think it could work again?"

I indulged with a soft sigh; "What could, Letha?"

"Us," she said, allowing tears to well in her eyes. "You and I. Our friendship."

I felt it truly, brutally, that I didn't know what to say. I didn't know if it would break me to be honest. "I can't leave Roman for you," I breathed. "I won't. So I doubt you and I could be friends again as long as I'm still with him."

Letha nodded, turning away to look up at the full moon above us. The hand she had in mine was starting to turn cold. "Do you think it could work again?"

Oh, she was asking again-- was my answer maybe not the truth? Not the right answer? Did my sleeping subconscious know? "What could?" I echoed, growing tired of the loop we were caught in.

"Us," Letha closed her eyes as her chest raised and fell with her shallow breaths. "You and I. Our friendship."

I decided to give it less thought-- that was the key, sometimes. Roman had taught me that. Could it? Could it truly? "Honestly?"

"Honestly,"

It didn't take long before I realized tears were threatening to spill from my eyes too. I had missed the smell of Letha's sweet perfume. It smelled like home and a comforting hug hello. "Yeah. I think it could work," It was weird to hear me say it out loud; "I was always in love with Roman, but you... You taught me how to love in the first place. If we could both forgive each other, I think we'd have a chance. Yet... I don't think I ever can. Fully."

Letha didn't open her eyes, barely moved an inch. She opted for a short, melancholic nod as her lower lip gave in to a tremble. "I'm afraid I'll miss you forever," she whispered, mostly to herself. 

And suddenly, I couldn't feel the weight of her hand in mine. My gaze darted down to what was previously our union, only to find that she wasn't there anymore. I looked up to find a slow line of evaporating smoke, similar to a trail coming from Roman's cinnamon cigarettes. 

With my next heave of air accompanied by a lonely tear rolling down my cheek, I allowed my hand to reach out to touch the fog. It was thick, and it prickled the tips of my fingers to the likes of a cactus-- my sorrow clouded my instincts, and I didn't retract my hand. I hadn't allowed myself to feel any of this, after all. I had been so wrapped up in Roman, so wrapped up in the new feelings that washed over my body, that I had buried all the old ones. 

However, Letha kept her promise-- I was released.

Released from the loop, but with one foot remaining in the quicksand of guilt.

And as I awoke, it felt like I had been thrown into a cold pond. With a quick breath, I arched off the bed, gasping; "Roman!"  

Frantic beyond words, I heaved for air, blinking rapidly to wake myself up. The morning sun shone through Roman's curtains with soft rays, and I was hit with the smell of a burnt candle. Still hyperventilating, I put a hand on my chest as I tried to turn around, but to no avail.

Why couldn't I move? Was I maybe still stuck in the dream? 

Oh, wait-- It was at this moment that I realized I had a heavy arm around me, keeping me still with my back pressed up against human warmth. 

I let out a shaky breath, a relieved smile spreading across my lips-- Roman. 

My panic gradually subsided, washing away with calm waves as I turned my head to look at him. The sun did him good. Roman's hair was a very specific shade of brown, but in the sun, it had twinges of orange and golden hues. If I were to ever bring it up to him, I know he'd protest and say he was nowhere near ginger. He wasn't, and I was aware of that; as usual, he wouldn't get the point.

After some careful maneuvering, I managed to turn in Roman's heavy embrace, facing him. His plush lips were gently parted, and his long, brown lashes weighed over his eyes-- he also had a rather hefty case of bedhead which I couldn't help but find beyond endearing. Up close like this, completely still, I could see the nearly invisible freckles painting the apples of his cheeks, study the curve of his upper lip, and the scar-like indent on his right cheek. I dared to trace my thumb over it, feeling the softness of Roman's skin against the pad of my finger-- this was beauty unmatched.

He was so beautiful. 

And he was mine.

With the gentlest of pressures, I leaned forward, barely brushing my lips across Roman's. I didn't dare to fully kiss him. I wouldn't dare to wake him up. If only we could lay like this forever, undisturbed and alone.

Forever.

Memories of last night swarmed my brain, pushing out all the memories of Letha's sad, green eyes. I smiled as I realized the ache between my legs hadn't subsided-- the sting remained. It had actually happened. I hadn't made it all up. And I would've stayed engulfed in my cloud of complete and utter awe if Roman hadn't nearly scared the living crap out of me with the following.

His voice was raw with sleep as his eyes remained closed; "It's rude to stare,"

I practically arched right off the bed again. Had Roman not had his arms around me in a deadweight hold, I was sure I'd have flown right down to the floor. "Christ!" I hissed, shocked. How had he known? "Sorry... Did I wake you?"

Roman seemed too sleepy to grant me a proper answer, and he settled for a short grunt; "Sleep," 

"It's already morning!--"

"Don't care. Sleep," With his next breath, he pulled me even closer, until the tips of our noses were touching.

I was almost glad Roman's eyes were closed. At least he didn't see the hefty blush creeping up my cheeks. It dawned on me that he maybe had a point-- we had never had the pleasure of having nowhere to be, with no one to wake us up, or school to go to. 

There was one thing I wanted to say, but I was scared he'd get upset at my use of words-- no, fuck it; "You're so pretty," I whispered, reaching up to brush my fingers over the tips of his long, long lashes. "You can't expect me not to stare when you look like this."

Roman's brows drew together, yet he allowed me to do as I pleased in his sleepy state. "I'm not pretty,"

Knew it. "Yeah, you are,"

"Just go to sleep,"

"You're unbelievably pretty,"

"... Please just sleep,"

I was aware that I was annoying him, but something about the way his voice got all harsh in the morning made me want to hear him more. Roman's breath fanned over the skin at the tip of my nose with the gentlest breeze as I sighed against his lips; God, how I loved him. "I don't want to sleep... but I can lay here with you, if you want,"

Roman hummed, the dark rumble in his chest nearly vibrating the bed in the process. "Just don't go anywhere,"

"I won't,"

"Ever,"

"I won't,"

With Roman's next breath, I knew he finally believed me-- finally. It hit him for the first time last night that I wasn't lying when I said I wasn't going anywhere, and it hit him again now. Forever was a dead serious plan of mine, and I was intent on making him understand that no matter what. "You're prettier," he eventually said, nudging my nose with his. "You're like the first pleasant sip of water after you've recovered from a sore throat."

"... Specific,"

Roman let out a short, annoyed groan; "Sleep,"

I didn't want to sleep. I didn't want to possibly face Letha again. With my palms against Roman's soft cheeks, I placed a loving kiss against his parted lips, feeling him sigh into me. "Good morning, Rome,"

He smiled, fulfilled, as though he couldn't hold it back anymore; "Good morning, baby,"

"Did you at least sleep well?--"

"Sleep!"

"... But I really don't want to,"

With another sigh, Roman stirred, pulling me closer to press a lazy kiss to my jaw. "Either you go back to sleep, or we fuck. You gotta give me something to work with, here,"

I stilled. "That's... not a bad idea,"

Roman's classic smirk illuminated my morning. "Turn around, then,"

"Huh?--"

"Trust me,"

Sometimes, when I was lonely, before everything with Roman, I used to kiss the skin between my knuckles and imagine someone else was kissing me. The small sounds, and the tingling sensation pooling in my stomach, would distract me from the unbearable feeling of loneliness. The reality of it.

Which is why, when Roman brought my hand to his mouth, pressing his lips to my knuckles before turning me around, I knew I wasn't alone.

Actually, it wasn't just that that showed me I wasn't-- the repeated strokes of Roman's cock filling me was certainly reminder enough.

It was that sort of lazy morning sex I had only read about in those odd novels my mom would hide around the house, or heard about from my friends which I no longer had. This was a different type of sex from yesterday's, which had been so highly connected and emotional-- and this was not to say that this right now wasn't both connected and emotional, but it was... comforting. Like we were taking joy in being able to do just this. To enjoy one another in a sleepy, slow form.

Roman's grip around my throat wasn't hard or choking-- it was more of a hold to keep me in place as he let out a breathy grunt against my shoulder, sinking into me with slow, lazy strokes from behind. "We should do this more often," Roman murmured against my ear, listening to my small whimpers. "Isn't this fun?"

I could hear his stupidly pretty smile. Fucking Romy Schneider. "What, sex?" Obviously?

Roman's deep laugh against my ear nearly had me shuddering; "In the morning," he purred.

"That's gonna be-- hard," My last words were cut off by the hitch of my breath. This felt too good. "Parents and-- and all." It was true, though. How were we supposed to do this with our parents in the house? I doubted Roman's mom was out on business trips all the time, anyway.

With a small huff, I was pulled even tighter to his chest, almost as a reprimand-- I had no idea why it made my cheeks burn. "You'll learn to be quiet," Roman breathed, kissing up the shell of my ear. "Right?"

"I--"

"You'll be a good little girl for me and be quiet, hm?"

And just as I was about to protest, to remind him it was probably a little rude to have sex with other people in the house (I had no idea actually, was there no etiquette to it?), the hand Roman had around my waist slid between my legs, coaxing them further apart. All my thoughts of having a proper conversation went out the window the second he pressed two fingers to my clit, circling it as his kisses moved to the skin between my ear and my jaw.

It was impossible not to give in to the feeling; Roman was intoxicating. I whimpered with the next brush of his cock against my sweet spot, the different sensations dulling my brain with every thrust-- "Yeah,"

Roman let out a hum of approval; "Just for me?"

"Only-- Only you,"

I could practically feel him melt against me. "That's my girl,"

It was an oddity how much Roman enjoyed the sound of it. How much he enjoyed knowing he finally had a companion in the world. I could feel his cock twitch inside of me with the reminder, with the need to become one.

Because at the end of the day, that's what we were now.

We were one. 

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The next day at school was the easiest day to handle in a while. It didn't matter that people were staring, that my reputation was still tarnished, because I finally felt the stream of love floating my way that I had been craving my whole life.

"You need to start zipping this up," Roman huffed, reaching for the zipper of my jacket. He pulled me closer to the railing he was sitting on by the school entrance, shaking his head. "It's getting cold. Don't be stupid." This was a new level of intimacy. The quiet moments, the small, shared moments of care. He was almost annoyed that I hadn't done it myself, that I hadn't thought to take care of myself, thoughtless little girl. 

I loved it when he got protective like this. Absolutely adored it. It only reminded me of how much I loved him, and consequently, how I couldn't tell him. 

I glanced at Peter, who sat next to Roman, and held back a snicker. I could bet about a hundred dollars that he had never seen his best friend so ridiculously protective before. "She's not twelve," he tried, nudging Roman's shoulder, earning a displeased grunt. 

Oh, of course Peter didn't get it. Roman Godfrey, sweetly zipping up my jacket-- the simplest of all things. Nonetheless, it brought a twinge of scarlet to my cheeks as I spotted a group of cheerleaders passing us on the way to the school entrance; the looks of seething jealousy in their eyes only brought me joy. A part of me wanted the sight of Roman being sweet to leave them with a feeling of pure agony. I wanted them all to suffer. Always. For their heads to be bashed in like Jasmine nearly did to herself into her locker; I wished it upon them. On them all. 

... I needed to snap out of this.

Roman had been right-- it was getting chilly in Hemlock Grove. I shivered when he finished buttoning my buttons, smiling down at him where he sat with Peter, glad none of them could read my thoughts. I wondered whether Roman would be horrified or... comforted by the fact that I was capable of wishing cruelty upon others, just like him.

It didn't matter. None of it did. Especially not now that he was looking up at me with those big, green eyes of his with his hands tucked into his jacket, looking handsome as ever. From this angle, Roman's shoulders were almost broader, and the more I thought about his physique, the more I thought about last night when he was completely undressed.

Completely undressed, on top of me, loving me. 

... Loving me. 

If only he did.

Fuck-- I couldn't think about that right now. The need to draw him in and have him all over again would overcome me soon, and I needed to push it down. It would be quite unfortunate if I started acting like a cat in heat every time I saw him from now on. "I need to get to class," I said, keeping my hands to myself despite how much I wanted to run them through Roman's hair. 

His eyes softened as he scanned me, jacket fully zipped up and all. "What do you have now?" he asked, now toying with the fabric of my pockets. 

"Math, sadly,"

Peter looked like he couldn't wait to escape the tension that ensued the two of us being in such close proximity. "Oh, right," Peter muttered, clicking his tongue against his palate as he sat back on the banister. "Math, second period... With Letha, right?"

The name was enough to make me freeze, and just for a second, it felt like the air got colder. I was sure I might've even flinched. The image of Letha in my dreams, white as though drained of blood, clouded my vision as my heart started to thump painfully. Why was I reacting like this? 

Also, Roman looked like he had been greatly offended by something. With furrowed brows, he sat back and sent Peter a look of what the fuck. "How do you even know that?" he muttered, reaching one arm forward to drag me closer by my waist, his eyes not leaving Peter's to scan his every minuscule reaction.

I was relieved by Roman's touch-- my fingers dipped into the short hair at the nape of his neck, unsure what was happening. 

On the other hand, Peter seemed to have a hard time recovering from what I could only guess was a slip-up. "I don't know," he said, shrugging as his eyes shied away. "I just remember it, I guess."

Roman snapped; "Why?"

Okay-- I didn't want to be here for this conversation. I couldn't hear more about Letha, not after my cryptic dream. It didn't make matters any better that Peter was right, and that I would see her in my next class. I stopped playing with Roman's hair, placing a short kiss to the top of his head; "I'm heading off," I mumbled, nodding shortly to Peter before excusing myself. 

Having got a quick whiff of Roman's heavy, intoxicating perfume, I closed my eyes and clutched my books tightly to my chest as I walked to class. The sheer smell of him, the softness of his hair, the kindness of his gestures-- it all made my head wander back to last night. The way it felt to have him inside me, how he took care of me, and how good it all felt. Allowing the memories to float back into my mind, I didn't realize I was walking around with a bright smile on my face until I sat down in math class and got a few odd looks from the other students around my seat. I wasn't usually this cheery, I suppose. 

Life felt good. When I thought about Roman, everything felt great. I made myself comfortable behind my desk, feeling my tummy tingle with my reminiscing of last night; I wanted him more than ever. Now that I knew we could be together like that, I wasn't sure how I was supposed to be able to detach from him. And just as I thought I was about to explode into a burst of butterflies, I stuck my hand in my coat to reach for my phone, only to find what felt like crumbled-up paper. 

Confused, I unfolded it;

i miss the look on your face when you cum. miss you miss you miss you. let's find a quiet place somewhere and get very very noisy after school, what do you think about that? do tell. i want to know your every thought, actually. what makes you tick, and so forth. know that i'm probably thinking about you right now. always. 

- your favorite (hopefully)

Oh, Roman and his notes. When had he managed to put it in there? A few minutes ago, when he toying with my pockets? Sneaky. I was dead sure my cheeks had turned a peculiar shade of pink by the time I felt someone put down their bag in the empty seat next to me, and I was too drunk on the euphoria to glance at my partner for today's class. How I loved Roman-- I loved him to the point where the tips of my fingers burned when I thought about him. And knowing he was probably in class now as well, thinking about me too... no, it was almost too much to bear.

However, when something much harder to face suddenly sat down next to me, I would've loved to get sucked right back into my tingling cave of Roman-comfort. 

Letha. 

Letha was here. 

Letha was sitting next to me, gazing back at me with those trademark green Godfrey eyes. 

Fuck. I immediately crumbled up the note, stuffing it down my pocket to hide the content of it from her. Knowing Letha, she'd probably barf at the sight of the first sentence. "What are you doing?" I hissed, glancing around to scour the classroom for empty seats. "There's a free table two rows down--"

"I like sitting here," Letha's face remained free of strong emotion, and she turned away to unpack her supplies. "It's close to the window, and I need the natural sunlight. It helps the headache I get from the lamps in here, don't you remember?"

She said it so matter-of-factly, and for a second, it felt as though I had been teleported back to two months ago. I didn't know how to act around Letha anymore. "Sure," I mumbled. Just my luck. 

As class started, I would glance over at Letha every once in a while. She seemed so peaceful, undisturbed by my presence, and I wasn't sure why that annoyed me to this extent. Was it perhaps the fact that she sought out forgiveness from me when she refused to give me any in return? That she was seeking acceptance about the situation only when it suited her? 

It was odd to look at Letha and see her in colours. After my dream last night, I could only see her in her undead form, dead to me.  

To my dismay, Letha leaned over to my side of the table a little later that class; "Do you have a pencil?" she whispered.

A Godfrey asking to borrow my pencil? It usually led to no good. Still, I handed her one--

"Thank you,"

"No problem,"

This was so weird. It felt too normal, yet it was agony to act that it was. However, the situation only worsened when the teacher asked us to work in pairs and solve an equation on the board. I held my breath, daring to glance at Letha; she was already looking at me. "You have no clue how to solve this stuff, do you?"

I shrugged. She knew me too well. "You've probably already solved it in your head,"

Letha's smile was kind, genuine. "Want me to show you how to do it?"

"Nah," 

"Do you even do your homework anymore?"

I knew her question was coming from a good place. I could feel it. After all, I barely managed to do my homework when Letha and I had regular study sessions at her place. Just thinking about it made me remember the sweet smell of her sheets, which never mixed well with the incense she was always burning for 'good karma'. "Roman has a guy that does them for him, and I write my answers off of his," I mumbled.

I expected the mention of him to put her off-- yet Letha simply nodded, raising her brows in a conniving look. "He's corrupted you,"

"I've let him,"

"I know," Letha's green eyes shimmered with words untold as she echoed; "I know."

It was odd to face her like this. For her to know my feelings for Roman, and not walk off this time. This was the first conversation we'd had in months where we weren't at each other's throats. And suddenly, Letha took the leap I wasn't allowed to take-- she leaned in closer as she dared to whisper the forbidden words; "I miss you,"

Oh no. "Letha--"

"You never said goodbye, and now a part of me believes you're coming back,"

I let out a shaky breath as I moved my chair further away from hers. What she said had been too close to the words in my dream last night. It was chilling. "Of course I never said goodbye," I hissed back, feeling my emotions boil to a simmer. "You didn't let me." There it was, laid out in the open. "You cut me off, Letha." She had. "And you left me for dead!"

Letha held her breath high in her chest as her mouth formed a tight line. It wasn't until she moved her chair closer to mine and gripped the table harder that she allowed herself to breathe; "I left you for dead because you basically fucking stabbed me!" 

"I didn't mean to!"

"And you think I did?" Letha hissed. "You gave me no choice!"

"That's not true! I came clean to you, and the least you could've done was to!--"

"Yeah, well, I'm sorry!" 

We stared at one another in silence. There it was, my apology, served on a silver platter. I had heard it once before, but Roman wasn't here to control the outcome of it this time. Something within the bounds of my soul was relieved of anger and tension, and I couldn't halt the result of it; "I'm sorry too,"

Letha froze for a good second or two. Her lips parted in disbelief as her grip on the table lifted, and she sat back in her chair with a slow nod. It gradually dawned on her what this meant for us. 

"Do you think it could work again?"

I indulged with a soft sigh; "What could, Letha?"

"Us," she said, allowing tears to well in her eyes. "You and I. Our friendship."

It was easier to breathe, all of a sudden. I knew that an apology wasn't enough to mend our wounds, but it was a start. I nodded along with Letha and watched as the corners of her mouth tugged upwards into a smile-- I caught myself mirroring it.

"So..." she tried.

"So..."

"Did you hear that Brooke Bluebell bought a big needle from a pharmacy?" 

I grimaced; "What? No, why?"

"To get her revenge on Roman," Letha held back a laugh, biting down on her lip as she turned to write down the answer to the math equation. "From a few months ago, if you remember the whole ordeal."

"Oh," I breathed. "Needle-gate?"

"Needle-gate,"

Despite how concerning the big needle sounded, it was a funny reminder of the past; "I've gotta tell Roman," 

"Yeah, you better. I think he's blocked me, so I'm out of the picture," Letha sat back in her chair after finishing her work, and she glanced back at me as she tapped the pencil against the paper. "You've gotta tell him about prom too."

"... Prom?"

"Yes, prom," Grabbing her bag, Letha rummaged around for a few seconds until she found a flyer. It was purple, super lavish-- "It's in two weeks, I think. Kinda short notice, but I have a feeling he'd secretly want to go. He's into the classics, so I'd suggest you indulge him."

I felt my cheeks turn red as I kept my eyes on the flyer. Just the thought of me in a dress, Roman in a suit; it made me warm. Uncomfortably warm. "I think he'd rather die, actually," I mumbled, handing it back to Letha. "Are you going?"

"Meh, don't think so," She stuffed the flyer back into her bag and sighed, reaching for her phone. "The guy that I'm into says he doesn't want to go, so I'll stay home."

It hit me that this was the first time I didn't know who Letha had a crush on. Previously, she would tell me all about them. There was a Tyler, there was a Scott, and then there was a third one who had a really peculiar last name. And just as I was about to scour my brain for more names, a particular one popped up on Letha's phone as she turned it on;

Peter: I think it's time to...

That was all I was able to see, as she needed to click on it to read the whole message. My eyes widened as I sat back in my chair, sending Letha an odd look. It was clear by her body language that she hadn't intended for me to see that, and she immediately flipped her phone. 

... Was something going on?

Letha cleared her throat and turned back to me with the same smile, yet it felt disingenuous. "That's a different Peter," she said, a somewhat panicked squeak to her voice. "It's the neighbour. He might be complaining about the amount of cars my dad has parked on our street, cause they don't fit into our garage anymore. It needs to be discussed, apparently. It's time, or whatever."

That seemed like a typical rich-kid problem. I could somewhat buy it. "Is it a Godfrey thing to be crazy about cars?"

"Just you wait until you hear about the cigarettes. Dad's a real chain-smoker,"

"... Don't tell me they're cinnamon-flavoured?"

Letha sighed; "Sadly, yeah. The garage smells like a goddamn gingerbread house,"

The laughter that followed wasn't intentional, and it blended in with the ring of the bell. 

This was nice. To see the smile on Letha's face felt good, like a warm soup when you have a cold. It was a comfort to know that we could finally be normal around each other, despite the fact that we would possibly never be friends again like before, or even forgive one another. I doubted that I ever could, fully. 

However, just as I was about to excuse myself, I spotted a silhouette by the door which made my blood run cold. 

Fuck.

Roman. 

I saw it in his eyes immediately. The confusion, which quickly morphed into something darker, anger-like. My laughter died down in an instant as my body kicked into a fight-or-flight response, suddenly scared out of my mind to be caught laughing with Letha-- she seemed to catch on momentarily, but remained in her seat as she watched me shove all my supplies and books into my backpack, hurrying to get to Roman.

I had forgotten that he wanted to pick me up after class. I had forgotten my promise to not fraternise with the enemy-- fucking stupid. 

Hoping to conceal the slight tremble in my hands, I put one of them on Roman's arm when I caught up to him in the doorway, smiling up at him with an anxious breath stuck in my chest. "Hey, you," I tried, giving the sleeve of his shirt a gentle tug as I always did, a plea for him to bend down and kiss me. It was impossible to reach all the way up to his lips without it, anyway.

But Roman's attention hadn't left Letha. His eyes had narrowed, glaring at her with fury apparent in the way his jaw clenched. Had telepathy been a real thing, I'd have thought they were yelling at each other through their minds. I almost wanted to butt in and say Letha wasn't bothering me, that we were having a normal conversation-- however, I knew that would only make it worse. 

"Come," Roman said with a low growl, unlike anything I had heard from him before. With one last scorned look at Letha, he gripped my wrist and started marching down the hallway; I didn't expect to be yanked from my place the way I was, and I was sure my legs were fully in the air for a microsecond or two; "Roman!--"

"This day just keeps getting worse," he muttered, not waiting for me to find my balance as he continued to drag me down the hallway. 

Roman's grip around my wrist was hard. "Slow down!" I tried, grabbing his arm with my free hand. "It's not what it looks like! It's not-- " Everything about this made me dizzy, and his sudden anger made the familiar feeling of dread pool in my stomach. It only got worse when he pulled me into an empty classroom, slamming the door shut behind us.

I took a few steps away from him, waiting for the bomb to explode. My breath came out in short, ragged motions as my hands remained clenched by my sides in anticipation. It felt like I was five years old again, waiting to get reprimanded for having drawn on the walls. "Roman, I--"

"Shut up," Of all the things I expected, it wasn't this. Not at all. Because suddenly, my body was pressed against the door of the classroom with Roman's arms around me, and his lips pressing needy kisses to my neck. My bag dropped to the floor-- What the...?

"Not here," was all I managed to say before my breath hitched, and my hands automatically flew up into his hair. "Roman, please, wait--"

"No," He was more dismissive than ever-- I wondered why I sort of liked it. Why it made my stomach tingle, why I wanted him to do whatever he wanted to me. Was it possibly after what had happened last night? "No more bullshit." 

I closed my eyes, hoping we'd have a few seconds to disperse if someone walked in on us right now. With the force of Roman's weight against mine keeping the door firmly shut, I was sure of it. My head lulled against the door as I felt him latch on a particular spot on the side of my neck, marking my skin with his possession. I knew I was screwed-- you can't get more screwed than this. 

I was sure I disassociated for a few seconds, because suddenly, Roman's lips brushed against my ear, and I had to suppress a shiver. "We're gonna have a damn serious talk," he said, keeping me still against the door. "We need it. I need it."

Something told me we wouldn't be talking much if he continued kissing me like this. "Let's-- Let's talk, then,"

When Roman pulled away, I could finally see the frustration on his face. The way his brows were drawn together, how high his breath was in his chest, and the narrow glare of his gaze. Still, I didn't think it would result in this; it took me a while to realize his hands were no longer at my sides, and that they were now unzipping my jeans. 

"What are you doing?" I breathed, grabbing at his wrists. "Don't--"

"You think you can outsmart me?" It was as though someone had ripped the curtains off its hinges, now revealing what was always hidden behind them. Roman's breath fell heavy against my cheek as a small twitch of his upper lip revealed his inner turmoil; "You think you can tell me one thing, and then do the opposite when I'm not looking?"

My anxiety grew as I realized Roman's strength was unmatched. There was nothing I could do to fight him. "What are you talking about?" It was hard to come up with a cohesive sentence when I was this stressed. 

"Peter told me, y'know," Roman continued, a low growl in his voice prevalent in ways it had never been before. "He told me the obvious, of course. That Letha is trying to reconcile, that she misses you... But then he told me the part I didn't know. The part you probably didn't want me to know."

It was with his last ominous words that he managed to dip his fingers past my waistband, past the hem of my underwear, and placed two fingers on my clit. The unexpected touch immediately made me squirm against the door, squeezing my eyes shut. "Why-- Why are you doing this?" was all I managed to stutter out, my hands still locked around his wrist. He knew I didn't want this. He knew. "I don't-- don't know what you're--"

"Talking about?" Roman rubbed rough circles around my clit as he placed his forehead against mine, pressing my head further up against the door. "Oh, so you're not gonna tell me?" His voice got more patronizing, as though this was fifth grade and he was teasing me in the courtyard-- "Is my good little girl gonna be real stupid and not tell me? You wanna act dumb with me, huh?"

Something about his tone made my cheeks burn. His tone, his words. This was not a good way to find out about a possible kink. My mind dulled with the stimulation against my clit, and it didn't take long before I eventually felt my arousal pooling. In all ways of the word, I felt like my body was betraying me. "Not here," I echoed, breath hitching. It felt like he was pressing a button on me, like I was a toy, thoughtlessly repeating it over and over; "Not here, Rome-- N-Not, here, please--"

"I'll stop when you tell me,"

"Tell you what?" I cried, squeezing his wrists as my hips bucked into his hand. Roman knew how to touch me, even if it was at my disadvantage. My mind was racing; someone could walk in, someone could see, someone could--

"How Letha helped you get us back together," Roman's breath was so warm, so angry, against my face, it felt like he was drawing my scorching red blush on my cheeks. "How you went and asked her for advice on how to decrypt me? Maybe you don't know me at all, is that it?"

I didn't want to think about this. I didn't want to be present. I didn't want to think about the fact that Roman had gotten the information all twisted, that Peter must've had quite an extensive talk with Letha to even know parts of this story, and that Roman couldn't find another way to talk it out than to do it like this. Forcefully. Because right now, it felt too good. It felt way too good. The sensation of his fingers rubbing circles into my clit, running them between my folds to gather up my slick, only to return to my bundle of nerves to make my legs shake with a mix of anxiety and pleasure, felt too good.

"That's not true," I tried in between heaves of air. What would it make me if I came like this? "That's not-- not true, Rome--"

"I won't ever be enough for you, will I?" 

"No-- no, you're everything!--"

"Because the end of the day, you'll go back to Letha," Roman's voice was tight, restricted, as though he was holding back a heap of emotions. "No matter what I do, how gently I fuck you, treat you, you won't want to be with me forever. No one does."

If only he knew. If only he knew that I loved him. My hands let go of his wrist, and I placed my palms against his chest, forcing some space between us with a push. That seemed to do the trick-- Roman's fingers slowed down as our eyes met, and he was faced with my watery gaze. "I didn't lie last night," I said after finally catching my breath. "I've never lied to you." An unnervingly big part of me longed for him to rub me through my high, which was not too far away from the horizon, but the sane part of me knew I had to put an end to his venture into the dark ways of his past. 

Roman's mouth pulled into a straight line; "Peter wouldn't lie to me either,"

"I'm not saying he is. He just got the story wrong,"

There was a long silence, and I knew this was my moment-- I reached for Roman's wrist again, and with careful, slow motions, I got his hand out of my underwear. "Letha heard us fight, and she came over to ask about it afterwards," I started. "There was no plotting. No decrypting. The only thing she told me, was to look for a bigger picture when it comes to fighting with you. I didn't ask for it! And what you saw just now, was us being friendly. Not friends. We will never be again, after everything that happened!" 

"But... you were talking on the stairs," Roman echoed, as something in his gaze faltered. "I saw you when we were leaving the party."

Letha's following words were almost icy to the touch, hollow to the ear; "Was I right?" 

It felt as though my world stilled. Time stilled. Just for a second, I felt as though I could wade my free hand through the coldness of her phrase, and I could wave away the mirage. She was concerned, curious. Had she genuinely wanted to help me get through this fight with Roman? 

"Yeah," I breathed. "You were. Thank you." 

Letha's face softened as a relieved sigh escaped her, nodding her head slowly. It had been a long time since the last time she had heard those words from me. "Any time," 

The memory was as fresh as day. "You were right next to me, Roman. If I was hiding something, I wouldn't have talked to her in front of you," I let go of his hand, letting out a shaky breath as he took another step away from me. I could sense that his mind was cracking itself in half. "I don't need Letha to tell me how to fix things with you. Contrary to what you were thinking, I do know you. And I know you well enough to see that this isn't you being angry with me, but rather your fucking abandonment issues surfacing because you haven't dealt with them yet!"

It was clear that Roman didn't expect me to raise my voice, but hell-- I was so done with this behavioural pattern of his. 

"It might be good for me to not have the worst relationship with all the girls at this school, have you thought about that?" I said, feeling my fists clench at my sides. "That Letha and I being friendly and not at each other's throats might be good for me? And that it might also be good for your relationship with your cousin, mind you, who you've seemingly blocked?" 

Roman remained silent, at a loss for words. 

My breathing had yet to calm down, along with my arousal. "You will always be enough for me," I said, softening my tone. "You're all I've ever wanted. I'm not leaving you. But it doesn't matter how many times I tell you this unless you trust me." I zipped up my pants, huffing as I picked up my bag. It felt as though my knees were about to give out-- I could feel my slick dripping into my underwear. This was a feeling I never wanted to revisit again. Ready to storm off, to slam the door behind me with a bang and leave Roman here to wallow in whatever he was feeling at the moment, something else hit me like a blow to the head; "Wait, how did Peter know?"

It couldn't be. It seriously couldn't be.

Roman cleared his throat, no longer meeting my gaze. I could see it in the light pink of his cheeks that he was embarrassed about his outburst. "He said they talked at the party," he mumbled under his breath. "Briefly. Just for a second."

"Ah, is that right?"

Roman caught my tone, glancing up at me through his brows. "Why?"

"Don't you think it's odd?"

"... Maybe, I don't know? I was busy getting laid that night, don't ask me,"

I would've laughed had I not been so pissed off. I could see the lack of reaction on my face getting to Roman, and he gave in to a slight shiver. Finally, the roles were reversed, just for a second. "Rome?"

He looked relieved to hear me use his nickname-- "Yes?"

"You will never do anything like that to me ever again,"

Roman tucked his hands into his pockets, head hanging low. "I... really don't know what came over me--"

"Never," I snapped, biting my teeth together. I was afraid I'd start yelling. "You will never."

I wondered whether anyone had talked to him like this. If this was the first time in history that Roman had gotten a boundary imposed on him. Maybe by his mother when she was scolding him as a child, but after that? I somehow doubted it. He remained silent, eyes fixating on his polished shoes.

Finally getting the opportunity to look at him this close, I spotted the vial of my blood still hanging around his neck, poking out from beneath his shirt. In the back of my mind, after having read that stupid book on upirs, a huge part of me thought he was getting affected by it. That the constant smell of blood right underneath his nose was activating dormant senses, dormant thoughts. 

But upirs weren't real. 

Not.

Real.

Roman's silence made me feel unimaginably guilty, as though I had been the one to force myself upon him-- he looked like a kicked puppy. I hated it. So, I gathered my next breath; "Could you at least say you're sorry? Then I'll feel better about inviting you home for dinner later,"

Roman's eyes lit up as they met mine, surprised I'd even offer. "You... still want that?"

"I can barely breathe when we're apart, what do you think?"

He let out the breath he had been holding, falling apart; "I'm really sorry,"

I didn't want to dwell on it. Didn't want to think about the fact that the scared look on my face would probably get him going for months on end. That he'd think about it at night, when he woke up, and especially when he got off at the thought of me. The scared look in my eyes. 

No. I didn't want to think about it. 

Roman was the first to approach, slowly daring to tilt my head up with two fingers underneath my chin and kissing me with the utmost gentle touch. No tongue, no urgency-- just a small, soft brush of our lips against one another, creating sparks that went all the way down into the tips of my fingers. 

Letha had been right when she first warned me about him, all those months ago. Roman was the epitome of an asshole. A core so rotten, it was impossible to carve out all the bad. You could try, you could dig, you could pray, but all of it would never go away. It would forever fester in his bones, infect the very basis of his DNA, and course through his veins.

But... when he kissed me like this, I could forget it.

I could forget.

When he kissed me like this, I only loved him more.

I knew I would love him forever. 

And as the kiss deepened with the sweetest pressure, I reached for the vial of my blood around Roman's neck-- he didn't notice the way I twisted the capsule, figuring out which way to turn it so it would screw itself off. I had a feeling I would need to know this information in times of crisis. 

Just in case.

Just in case. ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The rest of the evening went on as normal. Weirdly enough.

Roman had fully snapped out of his rage, and he had turned into a version of himself I hadn't seen before. He wasn't joking around. He wasn't making dirty jokes. 

He was... calm.

Assured. 

I knew this was probably a form of keeping on the low, to not take a wrong step and blow up in the minefield he had made himself. Roman laid still in my bed with his hands behind his head, watching as I scoured my closet. If there was going to be a prom, I had to look for a dress, right? 

"What are you looking for?" he asked, yawning. "Need some help?"

I shrugged, hoping to brush his question off. It was a bit embarrassing to be talking about this, seeing as he hadn't asked me to be his date or anything. "Just looking for a dress... Wondering if I still have the one I'm thinking about,"

"What do you need a dress for?" Roman sat up in the bed, watching me like a puppy would.

"I... like dresses. Need to wear them more often,"

"But it's getting colder, don't you think it's better to wear something warmer for the season?"

What was up with this obsession of his lately? He had to keep me warm at all times, supposedly. "You sound so polite," I mumbled, wading through my clothes. "Stop looking so guilty, please."

Roman let out a sigh, running his hands through his hair. "I feel bad,"

This was intolerable. It gnawed on my heart. "I told you we're fine, so please don't," I turned to him with one hand on my hip, hoping to stare some sense into him; "I even wore this crazy top to make your mood better, look!"

Roman's eyes darted down to the hot pink crop top I was wearing, and he bit down on his growing smile to stay neutral. Nonetheless, I could see it on his face that he remembered exactly where I had gotten it, and possibly the feeling he had back in that closet when he came into the soft fabric of it. "I'd rather you wore my sweater, like usual,"

"It's in the washer. And this top is fucking iconic," I pointed to the words which were stretched out across my chest. "See? 'Rock on', in big, black letters. You need to rock on more, Roman."

His smile immediately cracked, and he propped himself up on his elbows as he leaned down on the bed. "I've done enough rocking for today, that's for sure,"

I finally saw a way I could turn his mood upside down. With a smug smile, I walked over to the pink speaker I got for my seventeenth birthday and connected it to my phone. "Rome, baby, who's big in rock these days?" 

Roman chuckled, rolling over on his side to follow me with his eyes. "Depends what type of rock you're looking for,"

"Anything,"

"I don't know, then. Anything from Nirvana to Blur, I suppose," 

Bingo. I guessed that Roman was going for bands he thought I had heard of, and he had hit jackpot. With a click of a button, the intro to Song 2 by Blur started playing through the speakers, which earned me another laugh from my boyfriend. It was a typical rock song-- it started out rather quiet until it broke out into complete chaos. 

I crawled back into bed, kissing my way up Roman's stomach, which only made his breath hitch. The giggles brewing in his chest resonated through my body that was pressed up against his, and I joined the laughter as I kissed his rosy cheeks. It was intimate, it was sweet. I loved that I could do this with him now, that he was comfortable enough to be put in a position like this, and that he allowed me to pull stunts like these.

And after all, I decided I would show my love through action, as I couldn't tell him about the extent of my feelings. I knew he'd get up and bolt right out the window like something straight out of a cartoon.

Roman caught his breath, placing his hands on both sides of my face-- all the emotions he couldn't tell me either were on display in his big, green eyes, roaming around the galaxies in his dark pupils. "I trust you,"

"... What?--"

"I keep thinking about what you said earlier," he tried, stroking his thumbs across the soft skin of my cheeks. "I promise I trust you. And I'm sorry that I get in my head about it, because you don't deserve that. You deserve so much better than what I can give you, yet... I want you to stay with me. I really, really want you to stay with me."

This was a rather deep conversation to be having with loud rock music in the background. I should've definitely picked something more mellow. With a sigh, I leaned down to kiss the tip of Roman's nose-- "I told you I'm not going anywhere," I breathed. "I'm yours forever, if you'll have me."

Finally, Roman's eyes lit up. Lit up like fireworks painting the sky. "Forever sounds nice,"

"It does, doesn't it?" It was impossible not to smile.

"It so does," 

It was a relief when he pulled me tightly to his chest and kissed me. It was the type of kiss I had dreamed of having in my bed on a lazy afternoon, the type of kiss which made my heart swell as it beat against his. The type of kiss which I had only ever seen in movies, the type of kiss I could never imagine would feel this good.

No one ever told me that making out with your boyfriend was such a thrill. To be tangled up as one, to be a heap of bodies coming together, to be a mess, and that it would make my whole being vibrate with joy. Roman's lips were so gentle to the touch, yet his kisses were so hot, all-taking, that I wanted nothing more than to melt into him and become one. 

It didn't take long before he rolled us over-- I knew he wouldn't be the type to like anyone on top except for him. My hands were in his hair, tugging at the tips of his dark locks to make my fingers busy, as Roman's tongue licked a stripe up my lips; it was so soft, a feathery touch, and it drew out a shaky moan. 

I didn't know any of this was possible before I met him. I really had no idea, silly me. 

My mind didn't register the meek whine that escaped me, possibly to protect my psyche, as Roman pulled away. A thin string of saliva connected our lips as we simply breathed down at each other, gazing into the other's eyes-- I was sure mine widened a little when I felt something hard pressing against my lower abdomen. 

Fuck, that was still damn hot. 

It certainly gave the words rock on a new meaning, no?

"I need to ask you something," Roman breathed, followed by a sigh of relief when he heard the song was over. "But don't freak out on me, okay?"

I nodded, eager to have his lips back on mine again; "Sure,"

"And before you judge me, I'm not the biggest fan of this idea myself, cause I think it's kinda lame. Keep that in mind,"

"Okay?"

"So... Heh," Roman let out a soft, nervous laugh, nudging my nose with his. "You might actually want to find a dress for this to work, though."

My fingers traced circles into his hair; "Rome,"

"Yeah?"

"Stop rambling, please,"

"Oh,"

"You were saying?"

"Oh," Roman cleared his throat, placing a short kiss to my lips. "Do you want to go to prom?"

Had I not been trapped beneath him, I would've shot right out of the bed. My eyes widened as I pulled him in for another kiss, hoping to suppress the squeal that threatened to escape me. 

"Wait, wait--" Roman's words were muffled against my lips before he raised himself up, still not done. What else was there to say, though? "So, you're going?"

"... What?"

"With friends, or...?"

"Roman, what friends?"

"Ah, right," Once again, he cleared his throat and got all serious again; "So... would you want to go with me?"

It took a second for it to dawn on me that Roman had been genuinely confused. That he thought I would be going with anyone else but him. That he thought, even for just a second, that there was a possibility that I would tell him no. "Are you crazy? Of course!"

Oh, how I loved him.

I loved him to bits.

And here I was, squealing about going to prom. Roman had made me a puddle of girly with his heartthrob-ways. It would've made me sick, had we not immediately gone back to making out, but this time, with bright smiles on our faces. Kissing someone while smiling was definitely in my top three of all things possible on earth. 

Second place was being picked up like I weighed nothing, oddly enough. That was one of the perks of having a tall boyfriend, after all.

And the first place was a no-brainer. It was definitely sex. 

Oh, and who would've guessed-- we'd end up having sex a few minutes later, believe it or not. When your boyfriend is this hot, it's impossible to resist. It was the type of sex that made up for his behavior at school today, the type of sex that made me melt into the mattress with joy and pleasure. 

The cursed hot pink crop top was quickly discarded, and so was my sanity. Roman's kisses grew firm against me, muffling the sounds of my moans as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of my thighs, pinning them down and folding me into submission. It was official-- there seemed to be no etiquette to sex, and my parents being in the house was an obstacle that was easy to deal with. 

Just... shut up. Keep your mouth shut. Right?

But it was so damn hard. Especially as Roman angled his cock right up against my sweet spot with the help of the pillow beneath me, making me whine in pleasure against the kiss he had locked me in to ensure my silence. It was impossible. It made my toes curl, made my vision blurry, and made my mind go into complete lockdown. I entered a phase where I almost didn't care, where I couldn't care less at all, and where the only important thing was for Roman to do whatever he wanted to me. 

"Fuck-- me," I rambled, my hands skimming the muscular range of his broad back as I felt my need grow insatiable. 

Roman let out a huff against me, the smile on his face a visible contradiction; "What am I doing, then, gorgeous?" He was so secure, so confident, that it was impossible not to let him do whatever his heart desired to me. I trusted him with my whole being, even as his grip around my thighs started to make them ache. My lower lip quivered; "Lo--"

No, no!

"Love this," My rambling needed to end, stat. 

Roman smirked into the kiss that followed; "Me too," He seemed to be catching onto my overstimulated state, and the second I let out a sigh of relief when he let go of my thighs and the pounding against my sweet spot relented, he came right back with a move I didn't expect. Roman wrapped his arms around me, pulling me up into his lap with his cock still throbbing inside me. 

I suppressed a surprised yelp. "Rome!--"

"Shh," He guided my legs around him as he watched me adjust to the new feeling-- he was deeper than ever, now, and it freaked me out a bit. "Stay quiet for me, okay?"

I was on the brink of tears. It felt like my thoughts had short-circuited and left me for dead. My breath tensed in my chest as I draped my arms around Roman's neck, grabbing a fistful of his hair to ground myself, just as I knew he liked it. "Let's try something new," he purred, hands traveling up my thighs to grab my hips, lifting me up along his shaft as I gasped into his open mouth. 

Even when I was on top, Roman needed to have control. Perfect. That worked out well for me, actually.

The way he was looking at me made me feel like I was on fire. The green of his eyes etched into mine, watching me with unmatched amusement-- his lips were upturned into the usual smug smirk which made my heart dance in my chest, and in vulnerable moments such as these, it also resulted in my cheeks flaring up with an embarrassing shade of pink. 

It didn't take long before we found a rhythm, and before I got used to practically riding him. It was different like this, especially when Roman's hands were simply a weight on my hips, and I could fuck myself on his cock. It felt like a permission of sorts, like he was telling me he was all mine, that I could do whatever he wanted to him-- like an exchange of submission. Although, of course, Roman would never fully submit to anything in the world. 

It was easy to keep quiet when the soft pillows of his lips muffled the sounds of my inevitable moans, but when they left me, it became a fight against my conscience. A small gasp would escape me here and there, along with a loud hitch of my breath, and it eventually balled on into a breathy string of ah ah ah's-- staying quiet was an impossible task. I prayed to all the Gods above that my parents wouldn't hear the mess their dearest Roman was making out of their daughter.

They had no idea he could be like this. None. He was such a sweetheart at dinner, he'd always make sure to help my mom set the table, and he'd talk sports with my dad-- they had no idea. I could see it in Roman's eyes that he found the sight of me beyond amusing. That he got off me unraveling more than anything. He only made it harder for me to stay quiet as he pressed the heel of his palm to my clit, keeping me steady with a hand on my back as his kisses trailed down my body. 

"A-Ah, Rome--" I was done for. I was done for. 

"Shh, just a little more," Roman's lips had stayed at my clavicle for long enough to leave a mark. It dawned on me that he was leaving a trail of hickeys, and my fist in his hair tightened as my legs quivered. This was too many sensations at once. "A little more... You can take it, right?"

I couldn't utter a cohesive sentence. The pressure on my clit, his wet, eager kisses, and the way I could set the perfect pace as I slid up and down his cock made my brain buzz with static noise. I was sure my eyes had morphed into the shape of hearts as I let out a shaky, quiet moan, filling myself up with Roman's cock over and over. The best feeling in the world. 

"That's my girl..." he cooed, grabbing my waist with his free hand. "Fuck yourself on my cock, it's all yours..." His pink lips parted with pleasure as he watched me sink down on his length, enchanted by the sight. It was a delight to watch the way his perfect up-do came undone, and the way his hair fell over his forehead in messy strokes. He looked unreal, godly. 

Roman's words were enough to make my hips buck into his abdomen, but my state only got worse, deteriorated, as his mouth trailed down to my breast. The moan I had to suppress when I felt his tongue against my stiffening bud was unmatched-- I was sure I started panting as he took it into his mouth, suckling it swollen as I whimpered. 

I wanted to let it spill past my lips; I love you, I love you, I love you. In that sense, sex was dangerous territory for me. However, how was I supposed to resist when it felt this good?

My lips ghosted over the parts of him I could reach, his ear, his cheek, and I let my breath hitch against his skin as a familiar feeling pooled in my tummy. Aware, Roman only drove the heel of his palm harder into my clit, making it so that I was grinding up against him with every lift of my hips against his length. I gave into a tremble, unsure how to stabilize myself in this position-- "Rome," I cried, pleading for him to kiss me. I wasn't sure I'd be able to suppress the sounds that were threatening to spill past my quivering lips when my high washed over me.

Roman's free hand remained at my breast, pinching my bud between his pointer and his thumb in a firm hold which had me wincing in pleasure. He kissed up my body, my shoulders, my neck, my jaw, my cheek-- yet he hovered inches away from my lips, the smirk still prevalent. "You lost," he whispered.

Lost what?

It was as though he read my mind; "You can't stay quiet, can you?"

I really wished I could. I was trying with all my might. But I was so, so damn close, and I shook my head, hoping he'd take pity on me. 

"It's okay," he cooed, his breath falling hot against my cheek as he tilted his head as though to kiss me. "You were never meant to win."

And so I crumbled. Completely. Utterly. Euphoria tore through me as I fell apart in Roman's arms, and it didn't take long before he simply wrapped his arms around me, laid me back down, and fucked me through my high as I suppressed my sobs of pleasure into his shoulder. 

Honestly? I didn't remember what happened next. Completely zen, relaxed, and thoroughly fucked, I considered myself logged off for the next ten minutes or so. However, I had to run over to my mental keyboard as Roman's hand, which was previously toying with my hair, pointed to my nightstand-- "What's that?"

With a small grunt, I raised my head from his bare shoulder. Fuck. My eyes sprung wide open as I spotted The Avoidable Vampirism on display, uncovered and everything. "Uh..." How could I have left that abomination out in the open? I gulped, turning to Roman with a doe-eyed expression that I knew worked well on him. I was sure my next words would put him off his incoming queries in an instant; "It's the sequel to Twilight. Vampire erotica, the usual. Edward is gay in this book, Bella is dead, and there are tons of scenes where, uh... men kiss men. And suck each other off. Super interesting."

Unsurprisingly, Roman was immediately disinterested. "Girls," he mumbled, rolling his eyes before he pressed a short kiss to my lips. "Stop thinking about gay sex, go to sleep."

"I'm not thinking about!--"

"Sleep!"

a/n: thank you for reading this monster of a chapter!!!! as you see, Roman's going absolutely nuts... I wonder whyyy (oh we know why, don't we? don't dangle a carrot in front of a donkey or whatever they say). there are a few chapters left of this book which will be packed w shit I hope will melt your brains, but before that, I wish you all a lovely christmas and a happy new year!!! MWAH, THANK YOU!!)

here are all the chapters!!<3: PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12

loveliest taglist of all time:

@mentallyscreamingsincebirth @putherup @corawithfanfiction @vladsgirlxx

@iamaslytherin0 @sexualparkour @the-universe-is-complicated @heavenly-bratt

@lafemme-nk @namiusedbubble @useyourwandbro @strmborns @literally-lani

@virgosapphire79 @star-girl-04 @veyzus @ddipotassium @pecxiebu

@mil88691 @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @katifefe @sn0wybowie-blog

@lilithskywalker @likecherriesinthespring @sadheartjellyfish @vadersangel

@shehangsbrightly @burningmiraclekingdom @dollforaswan @austinswhitewolf

@nico-velvet @shiiiii-okayyyy @theantagonistalwaysdies @blackbluerose666

@obexes @rosecoloureddudez @amoure020 @itsaeasykill

@succubustacy @carmillavalentine

[oval3000]

Chapter 1

Yandere Psych Patient König x Nurse Reader

Warning: Possesive, Obsession, Death, Gore, Blood, Smut, Toxic behavior, age gap.

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

(This story might suck idk)

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

König felt three of the guards holding him down while one of the other nurses stuck a needle inside his arm. It took a while for it to work on him, but eventually he fell asleep.

The doctor infront of him, pressing his hands on the open wound of the other, unfortunate, nurse's neck trying to control the bleeding.

It was no use, the wound was deep the pressure barely hold the amount of blood she lost. It was honestly foolish of her. What did she think will happen? She kept rolling her eyes whenever König needed something. It was easy, she was sloppy, always leaves things unintended. It was time for a new nurse anyway all the other ones that come and go don't meet up to his standards.

The amount of nurses he has killed was all fun and games to him, but he got bored. Now it was anger that drives it. Before, he would play a game with them, he flirts to get them near him and it works until he chokes them with one hand or slits their throats with anything he can get his hands on or just simply slamming their heads to the wall. It was funny seeing them put up foam in the walls inside his room, it wasn't too long for them to realize it won't do anything when he smashed a guards head onto the floor and quickly stomped on it like it was nothing.

Bashing their heads to anything it's what got him here in the first place. Being in the military is something not everything can stand. For König it became a playground. Killing his enemies however he wanted. Breaking their heads, their necks, arms, legs, ankles, practically anything.

The amount of meetings the staff has to attend to acknowledge Königs behavior and how it's partially the staff's fault for being so careless. It was hilarious for him honestly. Having the entire building walking on egg shells around him. They don't know how to tame him, how to tame a monster who kills someone as if they are a cockroach

The only person that could possible get through his head is his psychiatrist. However his attempts to clear him backfires when König kills someone. At times the doctor is to frustrated that he gave up and he did, so he got a new psychiatrist.

He finds his new psychiatrist annoying. She puts other people's sceneries to get into his head to see what is wrong with him. Telling him that his suffering in the military is similar to a women going through a divorce. König could care less about her personal life or anyones.

She got up a left after his session while the guards took him to his room. The psychiatrist told the staff to give König his medication, but they all took a step back. She ask for his nurse, but they all stood quiet until one spoke up and said that König doesn't have a nurse, his last nurse died and it has been hard for them to find a new one.

She quickly made her way to the administrator's office and plead for a new nurse. The administrator told her no so she spread her legs and he quickly said yes. After all she didn't want to be the next victim of his so a nurse should do.

Then you came along. Sweet and innocent you. You took the job when you saw the job opening on their website and it was perfect timing. You just moved here and needed a job asap. After you graduated you worked at a hospital for a year until the bills and rent went up and the pay stayed low so when you found out that a facility needed a new nurse with triple the pay, you took it.

You waved at the receptionist hello while clutching the strap of your crossbody bag. "Hello, I'm looking for the administrator, I'm (Y/n). I'm the new Rn"

"Oh miss (Y/n)." He gave you a hesitant smile which caught you off guard, but you didn't think too much. I mean the receptionist has seen so many new nurses come in go fast, but you didn't need to know that, do you? "The administrator is waiting for you in his office."

"Okay thank you." You signal some confusion to the receptionist. "Um?"

"It's down to your right, left office." He said hand signaling the directions.

You gave him a smile and quickly headed to the office by giving a few knocks until you heard a male voice telling you to come in.

The men stood, shook your hand and told you that a fellow nurse was going to give you a rundown about how things work.

You followed the nurse has he took you to the floor you'll be working on. This will definitely be different then working at a hospital. He told you where the nurses station is and the name of the doctors that come to see the patients aswell as the patients themselves. However, your only worry is one patient in particular. König.

He showed you where his room. "This is where he stays. Now, you have to be careful with him. Can't turn your back on him. Don't leave anything near him and don't be near him in general."

'Don't be near him. How will you give his medication if you can't be near him'

"If you feel like your in danger, don't hesitate to scream for help, besides the door will always be open when you go in and two guards have to be with you at all times if you go inside his room. Don't make small talk to him, don't give him anything unless it has been confirmed with the heard nurse here. Which is me okay."

You nodded in understanding of the situation. He gently grabbed your arm and pulled you to a place away from everyone else. "Look I shouldn't be telling you this, but I feel like you deserve to know. But you can't tell anyone I told you this, okay."

"Okay." You responded.

"The last few nurses that attended him always ended up getting killed by him. He is the reason why we always need a new nurse."

'So that's why the pay is higher'

"If you want to quit I don't blame you, but you should know what you're getting yourself into." He whispered to you.

Are you scared? I mean the fact that you can die is. Either stay and get paid or go back and be in debt, which one is better? "Thank you," you looked at his tag, "Jacob"

"No problem. Oh and Dr. Smith is his psychiatrist so whatever she tells you, you do. She can be a bitch sometimes, but she only comes in on Tuesdays and Thursdays or if there is a tragic emergency."

You gave him one last okay before he went back to his computer. You looked around and saw how many guards there are in the floor. More guards than nurses.

You saw docotrs leaving the patients rooms, you strolled around getting to know the facility. You went to the locker room and quickly placed your bag inside while fixing your scrubs and your hair. You head your way the nurse's station ready to do what you need to do. They started you off by you giving medication and taking vitals to some patients, just for you to get the hang of it as well as report anything back to their medical files and re-learn how to work the system. Jacob gave you a little index card with the information you need about König. Mainly how to give his medication. As for needles, a guard has to hold him down.

"(Y/n)" Jacob called for in the desk area. You went up to him. "This will be your work space, you are in charge of these patients, which includes König." He showed you the list of patients which is not a few compared to others. "The biggest one is König, which is why you don't have a much. All their routines are the same. Sometimes the patient will call out for you."

"How?" Not like they have a control to call for assistance.

"A guard will come and tell you. Everything else is pretty straight forward all of their medical history is in their charts aswell as their medication and their dose. They all share the same doctor who comes by every few months, unless they need medical attention. You get the gist right?"

"Yes." You said staring at the computer screen.

"Good. All the medical supplies are back here." He pointed to the big beige cabinet that is behind you. "And obviously the patients medication are in their and here are the keys." You looked at what the computer was placed, a big drawer each with a key hole and a sticker of the patients name on each one. "If you have any question, feel free to ask me."

You nodded and did what you are paid to do. You quickly got the hang of things. Lunch came in quick as you saw the kitchen staff making their way to the dining room area. The guards went in took all patients to the area ready for them to eat. They two went in and brought out König. He was wearing the usual white t-shirt with the white sweatpants. Part of his hair was tied back into a low ponytail while the rest hanged loosely to his face. He doesn't have long hair, but not short either. He turned his head towards you. You can see his eyes as they stared at you.

König didn't smile, didn't frown. He was intrigued.

You looked back into the computer and quickly pulled up his file. Ex- Military, age to be around 40. Austrian. Can speak German. Suffers from severe social anxiety. Blood type AB. Activities in the facility- arts and crafts. Suffered from multiple injuries during his deployment. History of broken arm, leg, stab wounds.

'Ex- Military. No wonder.'

After lunch it was time to give them their meds. You went to do your round, checking their vitals and giving them their medication. You made your way towards König's room. The two guards opened the door widley while one entered in. König saw you as he sat on his bed legs slightly spread open while his triceps rested on his things. His head hanged low but peaked up when you entered.

You took out the aneroid Sphygmomanometer. You made your way towards him. Already doing something they warned you about. His eye sight followed your figure. You were too nervous to look at his face. If you don't look at him then nothing bad will happen. König stared at you as you place opened the cuff and wanting to place it on his bicep. You were honestly doubting that the cuff was going to fit around his bicep, compared to yours it was like comparing a mountain vs a sand castle.

He moved his bicep slightly up for you too take a better look. The guards gave eachother looks as if he never done this before. You wrapped the cuff around his bicep, not wrapping too tight. You felt bicep, they're hard. Hard as a rock. You pressed on the little latex bulb, giving it a few squeeze while checking the gaudge. When you got the results, you wrote it down quickly.

As for König, he didn't do anything, he just watched. He watched as you came near him. To check his tempt, his heart rate. He saw you bringing the little Dixie cup with his medication. He felt the guards stiffen knowing this is the part where he will either snap your neck or crack your skull open with ease.

You placed the cup on to the little table you have to take with you with all the supplies you need and rolled it near him. Your guess is that he snaps when someone wants to drug him. Ex- Military, you won't be surprised he they forced him to take some sort of drugs while fighting off his enemies. "It's okay. This one is to calm your nerves, I know they can hard to deal with. Trust me I know. I'll give you the one that will help you sleep at night so you can't get comfortable."

He took the cup and threw the pill inside his mouth, quickly swallowing it. The little cup is so tiny compared to his hands you couldn't even see the cup. He placed the cup back onto the table. "Thank you." You said to him while walking out of his room. As soon as you heard the guards shutting the door you felt the nervousness leaving your body.

König laid back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He felt a smile on his face.

He haven't felt this way in a long time. Quite frankly never.

You are definitely getting in his interest.

[sinnabarmoth]

Tribute for the Dragon (9/18)

(A/N: Halfway done! And it is still Christmas when I am posting this so consider this a very last minute Christmas present to all who celebrate and to those who don't! Love ya!)

Pairing: Dragon|Sylus x Fem|Reader

Summary: The morning after (i'm just letting the tags speak for this one.)

Content Warnings: Adult language. Blowjobs. Cunnilingus. Horns as handlebars. P in V. Dirty talk.

Length: 4k

Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18)

Read on AO3

When you made it back to the mountain it was incredibly late, or incredibly early depending on how you looked at it. In an hour or so the sun would start to rise. You were tired and Sylus was tired and without any word to each other you meandered back to the bedroom together and collapsed onto the mattress to go to sleep.

Sylus pulled you close, keeping your body nestled in the curve of his body. You thought maybe it’d be uncomfortable considering how much of his arms was covered in scaled armor but nothing poked into you. You weren’t caged, you were protected. Before you drifted off to sleep he pressed one more kiss to the back of your neck.

You could not say how long you had slept or how late in the day it was when you woke. You really needed to talk to Sylus about getting a clock back here so you could gauge when you were waking up.

Speaking of Sylus. You were still pressed against him. Sylus was fast asleep yet. But not all of him as you soon realized. All through the night you had not felt any part of his armored arms poking into you, but you felt something now remarkably lower.

Slowly you turned out of his arms. He slid onto his back without you keeping him anchored on his side. The sheets dipped and rose over the curves of your body, but one part was noticeably more tented. Your legs pressed together as you carefully moved the sheets back, making sure not to wake Sylus. He had changed into looser, more comfortable pants to sleep in last night when you returned so there was little to resist the stretch of his cock.

Last night had been all about your pleasure, he hadn’t taken anything from you. Then on the way home he kept whispering all the things he planned to do to you in the morning, making you a flustered mess. You were going to return the favor before he woke up and put his plan to fuck you senseless into motion.

You kept an eye on his face, making sure he didn’t wake as you slid your hand past the waist of his pants and felt his hard cock against your palm. After so long spent thinking about it you finally had it in your hands. Sylus was still asleep but he seemed to shift some as you touched him.

A smile grew on your face as you extracted his cock from his pants so you could access it easier. Gods, it looked even bigger than when you saw it in the hot spring. You moved your hand up and down, stroking him, watching as he got harder and his cock grew red with need. You were a bit worried before that with him being a dragon there’d be some big difference between your biologies but you were glad it seemed to be as every bit as normal as a human one. Bigger yes, but otherwise normal.

A bit of pre-cum built at the head and you bowed your head to lick it up. Oh gods, he even tasted good too! It was normally salty and a bit bitter, but he was not bitter. He was spiced and sweet like a salted caramel dipped in cinnamon on your tongue. You wanted to taste more.

You took the tip of him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head of his cock. You opened your mouth wider and bobbed your head up and down, taking him down your throat a little at time. Were you going to be able to fit all of him in your mouth? You weren’t sure. The thought made you even wetter.

You kept one hand wrapped on his cock and moved the other between your own legs. You moaned around his cock as you began teasing your clit. Your eyes fell closed as you focused on bobbing your head in time with the strokes you played across your clit.

A hand fisted into your hair and your head was forced down fully. You gagged as his cock hit the back of your throat, tears welling in your eyes. “Play with fire and expect to get burned, little bird.”

It was awkward to do with his cock down your throat but you looked up through your watering vision to see Sylus awake with a hungry look in his eyes. “I feel I should thank you for such a pleasant wake up call.” he said, running his hand over the back of your head but not letting you up. “But I also know I didn’t give you permission. What should I so about that?”

You wanted to say something but quite literally could not get the words out.

He chuckled darkly, his cock twitching in your mouth. “I’ve thought of this exact image so much in my brain, actually seeing it, feeling it, is another thing entirely. Now that I have you here, what should I do? I could keep my hand fisted in your hair or use your mouth to jerk myself off or put you on your knees and hands behind your back as I fuck your throat.”

Oh gods above…

Your hand was still between your legs and as if on instinct you stared swiping at your clit again. Sylus caught the motion. “And I see you like that idea too. I’m learning so much about you, little bird.”

He pulled your head off his cock and you took in ragged breaths. You didn’t have much time to catch your breath before he pulled you back up the bed and trapped you under him. “Keep playing with yourself. I want those pretty little fingers of yours deep in your pussy. Stretch yourself out for me.” he said before claiming your lips in a bruising kiss. 

You did as he said and shoved two fingers into your cunt as he ravaged your mouth. You could feel his cock trapped between your bodies, grinding against your wrist.

“Sylus,” you murmured against his lips, “I…I’m gonna…”

“Already?” you could hear the humor in his voice. “My dear little bird, you wanted this so badly, didn’t you?”

You fucked your cunt faster. His voice alone, spoken in that deep primal growl could be enough to make you come.

“Well?” he said. “I asked you a question.”

“Yes.” your pussy clenched around your fingers. You could feel your orgasm building. “Yes I did. I do!”

“Good. Now don’t stop fucking that pretty pussy of yours until you come.” He moved further down to your neck, refreshing the bruises he put there last night and adding a few new ones.

His head dipped even lower to your chest. Your nipples strained against the thin white cotton of your sleep chemise. He tweaked one nipple in his hand, pinching and pulling on the hard sensitive bud and took the other into his mouth over the fabric. He sucked hard on it, lathing it with his tongue so the fabric turned sheer. He gave it a small tug with his teeth then traded, his mouth covering your other breast while his hand teased your other nipple through the wet cotton.

“Sylus! Fuck!” your legs were shaking, so close to release. “Sylus please! Please!”

“Go ahead. Come on your hand as I play with your tits. Come for me!”

So you did and it felt like your body had broken apart, shattered into a million pieces.

Your chest was heaving, your legs twitching, your hand still stuck in your cunt as you rode out the final waves and tingles of your orgasm. Sylus grabbed the hand that was between your legs and stuck your glistening fingers in his mouth, sucking the juices off of them. His eyes closed as he savored the taste.

“You taste divine.” he muttered, giving a gentle nip to your fingertip after he was done. “I want to taste more.”

“Oh gods, give me a second to breathe.” You placed a hand on his chest to slow him down.

“Hmm,” he clearly wanted to keep going but rolled off of you so you could take a moment to catch your breath. “I suppose this can give you the chance to disrobe in case you don’t want me to tear this nightgown off of you.”

“That too.” you sighed, curling your body towards him.

He tilted your head up and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Good morning.” he said.

You laughed. “Good morning to you too.”

“Since we’re taking a moment to breathe before continuing, I feel there are a few things we should go over if we are committing to doing all of this.” he said. “There are certain things you should know and what we should try to avoid.”

“Like what and why?”

“Well, the biggest thing is biting.”

“Biting? A little too late for that, don’t you think?” you gestured to your neck.

“Yes. Honestly that was somewhat careless of me to bite you as much as I have.”

“Why?”

“Because biting while engaged in intimacy could accidentally make us mates.”

“Mates?”

“Yes. I suppose it is the closest thing to a human wedding you could get in the dragon world. Granted, biting alone cannot make us mates, there is a whole ritual for it that we’d have to engage in, vows that evoke magic to complete it all. But I do not know how many of the rules of dragons apply to me, so best to try and minimalize it as best we can. Once a bond is made, it cannot be undone.”

“Alright. And what happens if we do accidentally become mates? What does that mean?”

“Mating attunes the couple together on an emotional and physical level.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning wherever you would be, I would feel a pull towards you. Your pain is my pain, and your pleasure is my pleasure. It also opens the channel for breeding.”

You pressed your legs together, glad he wouldn’t be able to tell you were slightly excited by the idea of him breeding you. “When you say opens the channel…”

“Dragons can only breed when they are mated. So as long as we are not mates there should be no worry about you becoming pregnant.”

That was a relief. As much as the idea of him fucking you with intent to get you pregnant did turn you on, you knew you did not want a child yet.

“So…what are we going to do now?” you asked.

“Well, I only got a small taste of your arousal and I want to make a meal out of it. So you had better take off that nightgown now before I rip it off.”

You nodded, quickly shuffling around so you could pull the gown off over your head. Sylus had pushed his pants the rest of the way off. His eyes roamed over your naked form, taking in every dip and curve. “By the hells you’re exquisite.” he dragged a claw down your chest to your navel, watching as goosebumps erupted along your skin.

He got to your legs and pulled your knees apart. His tongue ran across to wet his lips as he stared at your cunt. “You are soaked, little bird.” He ran his mouth across your thigh, sucking bruises onto the soft supple skin. “And so warm.”

“Sylus…” you fisted your hands in the sheets.

“And so sweet.” he liked a stripe straight up your cunt to your clit.

Your head fell back against the pillows as he teased your clit with the tip of his tongue, working over the bundle of nerves mercilessly. He sucked hard on it and your hips jumped to meet his touch. He placed a hand on your abdomen to keep you still as he continued to assault your clit until your legs were shaking.

“You’ve made such a mess,” he whispered, giving your clit a final kiss before he moved down to your pussy. “So much arousal is leaking out of this pussy. You want to give me a feast, don’t you?”

“Yes, please Sylus!”

“Then I will enjoy my meal with vigor.” he dove between your legs, lapping up the arousal that leaked out of you.

He groaned, sending tiny vibrations up your spine. He wouldn’t stop talking, even with his mouth preoccupied. It was hard to hear muffled between your legs but you thought you picked out a few short words. “Taste…drown in…fuck…every day…”

His tongue plunged into your cunt and you tried to close your legs. He grabbed one thigh with his hand and the other was grabbed by his tail. He pulled your legs wide, keeping you spread open as far as you could go. “None of that.” he muttered, “I want easy access to my breakfast.”

He went back to devouring you. The sounds his mouth made against you were obscene and not at all quiet. If there was any doubt to how wet you were it was gone. If anyone else had been in this mountain they would have been able to hear the wet slurping sounds that accompanied your moans. And Sylus was not stopping!

You could feel yourself moving towards another orgasm at lightning speeds. Your body was restless, unable to writhe with him pinning you down. All you had were your hands. They went from fisting the sheets to rubbing your breasts. Until that is you reached for the man between your legs. Your intent was to grab his hair but touched his horns instead.

You grabbed his horns, pulling him closer so he couldn’t pull back even a little from your cunt.

The moment you did he moaned, his eyes opening and staring straight at you from between your legs. His pupils were blown wide and you remembered what he said before about his horns being sensitive. A smile grew on your face and you gripped them harder. He moaned again.

You couldn’t really see much past Sylus’s hulking frame but you were sure you felt the bed moving further down. No doubt Sylus grinding his red hot cock against the mattress. Fuck you wanted on it! Wanted to be what he was rutting into instead. But you could tell Sylus wasn’t letting you go anywhere until you came on his face.

Your words were replaced with sharp panted moans as you felt your climax edging closer. Sylus was not letting you drop his gaze and it was that intense eye contact as he drank you down, body and soul, that made you tip over the edge. Your head snapped back against the pillows, moaning aloud to the ceiling as you came all over his face. Your only tether to reality was the grip you kept around his horns as your ground your cunt against him.

“Fuck…” you whimpered. Every little touch made your breath hitch.

Sylus released your legs at last but you didn’t even have the energy to close them.

“Have I worn you out already?” he asked, tracing soothing patterns along your thighs.

Your eyes cracked open again. “Not yet.” you shuffled onto your knees despite the pleasant ache in your body. “Not until I get to fuck you properly.”

“You are a wonder.” he kissed you and you could taste yourself potently on his tongue. “And since you like being in charge, I’ll let you take the lead this time. If you want to fuck me, then fuck yourself on me. I want to see you bouncing on my cock.”

“Oh gods…” Such filthy words.

“If there are any gods they’re not looking down on us, little bird. They don’t have my permission to see or hear you in this moment. This is all mine.” he grabbed you flipped you over so you were on top of him. “Now fuck me.”

This man, this dragon, was going to be the death of you. You would not survive hearing him say such things every day.

You shuffled back a bit so you were straddled over his hips. His cock was between you, still hard and begging to be touched.

You took him in your hand and pressed the head of his dick to your clit, teasing it again. Sylus watched your movements, breathing heavily as you smeared his pre-cum over your clit. Then you lifted your hips up, notched him at the entrance of your cunt, and sunk down.

It took some time, even after how much prep had gone into stretching you out you still needed to shimmy yourself down the entire length of it a bit at a time. Rocking your hips up and down, taking more inside yourself with every shallow thrust. Fuck he was so big! He was stretching you out like you had never been before. There was a slight burn but it only added to how good you were feeling finally having him inside of you.

You finally made it down fully, your hips flush to his as he laid fully sheathed inside you. You let out a shuddering breath as you let yourself just feel him in you. Fuck you felt so full! Your hands were on either side of the gem in his chest, keeping yourself balanced.

“You’re so fucking tight.” Sylus panted, “Didn’t even know if I was going to be able to fit in you for a moment there.”

“Barely.” you took in a shaky breath. “Why did we not do this sooner?”

“Because you got all embarrassed about it and said that the one time you masturbated in front of me that it was an anomaly that would not be repeated. So much for that, huh?”

“You really want to be a brat about it while I’m sitting on your cock?”

“I think the fact that you are sitting on my cock means that I do get to tease you about it. You wouldn’t even let me see you naked and now here you are.”

“If you’re going to be a dick I can just get off and take care of this myself.”

“Now why would you do that when you said just a minute before that you were not done until you got to fuck me properly?”

You smacked his chest. “You are such an ass!”

“That’s hardly a way to talk to your master.” he had on a wide shit-eating smile. “Now, do as your master says and ride my cock like I know you want to.”

You bit back a colorful response. Pleasure first. Wringing his ass for being a cocky bastard later.

You lifted your hips up till just the tip was in you then slid back down. Your body was getting used to the size of him, opening up a little more with each thrust. The friction went from burning to so sweet in no time at all. It felt as if he had been made to fit perfectly in you.

Your thrusts got faster and shallower as you began chasing your pleasure in earnest. Fuck you felt so full!

“That’s it.” Sylus moaned, holding you by the hips, helping to keep you moving. “You feel so good wrapped around me. Don’t stop.”

You didn’t think you could even if you wanted to. Your body was working off of instinct. Chasing pleasure and release, recklessly and without any inhibitions. All your body new was harder, faster, more. More! More! More!

You grabbed your breasts, playing with them as you rutted against Sylus.

“Do what you need to make yourself feel good.” Sylus kneaded your ass. “You look beautiful like this. Wild and desperate with lust. Moaning like a bitch in heat.”

Your pussy clenched around him. “Do you like that? Like when I point out how shameless you are? How do you think your little village friends would feel about you, knowing that you’re bouncing on a dragon’s cock like this?”

“Sylus, please…” you fell forward, catching yourself on his shoulders. You weren’t going to last much longer.

“So informal. Am I not your master?” he said, his voice a low growl. “I can tell you’re close. If you want me to help you come you need to ask.”

“Sy--” you got a warning hit to your ass when you tried to say his name. It only ignited you more. You were tempted to keep saying Sylus instead just to get him to spank you more.

“Master,” you said, your voice slurring with pleasure, “Will you please help me come? I want to come on your cock. Please!”

“That’s better.” he grabbed you firmly and started fucking up into you. “Oh hells, I’m gonna come. Want me to come with you?”

“Yes! Yes! Please master!” you whined. “I want you to come with me! I want you come inside me!”

“Oh fuck!” his claws dug into your flesh. If he had stabbed into you, you hadn’t noticed. You were so close! So fucking close!

“Kiss me!” you struggled to form words. “Please!”

Sylus claimed your lips in a searing kiss. Your attention was elsewhere so it was slightly awkward, a little sloppy. But damn it did it just feel so good to kiss him. Your hands wove into his hair as you moaned into his mouth.

“Sylus!” Out of your mouth came a sharp scream of pleasure that had tears rolling down your face. It felt like your body had been struck by a lightning bolt as you came with Sylus. Your cunt clamped down hard around him, milking ever drop of his cum out of his cock.

He was still fucking up into you as he came, slowing down and letting you ride out the high for as long as possible. You were breathing hard, little whines and moans still escaping your throat as you danced between pleasure and reality.

You melted against Sylus, your body going lax as the orgasm faded away and all that was left were two sweaty bodies still mingled together. Sylus had released your hips and crossed his arms over your back, holding you close to him as you caught your breath.

“Still with me?” he asked, his voice gentler now.

“Physically or mentally? Cause I’m not sure which is which right now.” you nuzzled your nose against his neck.

“Wasn’t too rough? Didn’t hurt you?”

“No. It was good. Really good.” you felt like going back to sleep. “Are you as tired as I am?”

“No, but I get the feeling you don’t have as much stamina as me.” he smoothed out your hair. “Lasted longer than I thought you would though.”

“Yay…” you shifted on top of him. His soft cock still wedged in your aching pussy. “Can we…?”

“Yeah. Here we go, I’m gonna pull out now.” he pulled you off him and a shiver ran up your spine without him inside you anymore. You could feel the warmth of his cum spill out of you.

“Gonna need to clean the sheets now.”

“Don’t worry about that right now. Relax, you’re going to feel the after effects of this soon, so rest now.”

“Yeah…” you looked up into his red eyes and smiled. “Can I have another kiss?”

“You can have whatever you want, my little bird.” he kissed you sweetly. “Anything for you.”

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Shoto's First Kiss Update | Chapter 8 Snippet

A lil update for my lovely readers as we officially enter the holiday season!

Chapter 8 of Shoto's First Kiss is almost ready, y'all! Appreciate the patience :) I'm trying to work through some tough dialogue scenes and make everything flow well.

At my latest estimate, this chapter will be at least 30 pages when I finally post!!!

I have off this week for the holidays so I will be working through editing and trying to get this posted as soon as possible (and as soon as I feel it's truly ready for the world!).

ALSO!! The smut scene is really hot - I think you'll all be pleased :) I'm going to post a snippet of it below the cut to get you excited for the next chapter. I think you'll be able to get a good idea of where the next chapter will take us smut-wise 😉

Thirsting for some Shoto smut right away? I posted this new one shot last week:

Frisky Movie Date | Shoto x Reader

This also exists:

Shoto Discovers He Has a Daddy Kink

And, as per usual, here's the chapters of Shoto's First Kiss that are available so far:

Part 1: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋

Part 2: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 2

Part 3: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 3

Part 4: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 4

Part 5: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 5

Part 6: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 6

Part 7: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 7

Bonus! I'm posting a snippet from the next chapter to hold you all over until the next post.

🚨Spoiler Alert🚨 Contains drafted content from Shoto's First Kiss Chapter 8!!! If you want to wait for the full chapter to be released, don't read any further. This is a draft so obviously it's subject to change :)

“You like watching me bench press?” You say cheekily, recalling a moment a few months ago when you had made awkward eye contact with Shoto at the gym. At the time, you’d thought it was just a coincidence – your eyes had accidentally met while you were completing some reps on the bench and he was doing pull ups nearby. But now that he had divulged his attraction to your lifting…

“Yes.” He buries his face in your neck, radiating heat. “The look in your eyes when you bench. Fuck.”

“How hard are you right now, Shoto?” You groan, rolling your ass against him. He makes a noise in the back of his throat in answer to your question. “Yeah that’s what I thought. Unzip your pants – I want to give you a handy.” You start to pull away from him so you can turn around, but he holds you fast in his arms.

“No.” He says soundly, surprising you. You’re certain that most men aren’t quick to turn down a hand job. “I appreciate the offer, but there’s something else I want to do right now. If you’re up for it.”

“Oh yeah?” This whole situation is unexpected – hooking up in a closet during a secret party? Yeah, definitely not on your UA bucket list. You tilt your head so you can look at him more clearly. His eyes are stormy, his hair mussed up just so. He looks so devastatingly hot and needy, you practically cum on the spot.

“I’ve been wondering…” He says quietly, running a finger back and forth on your lower stomach, causing your pussy to quiver in your panties. “What would it feel like to touch you…more intimately?”

“More intimately?” You squeak, and you feel his fingers slide under the elastic waistband of your skirt, tracing gently across the delicate skin of your waist. You feel your pulse quicken as you realize what he’s getting at.

He kisses up your neck and you feel his breath in your ear – hot and wet. He traces his fingers across the waistband of your panties now, moving his fingertips in a slow, circular motion. You’re so wet you can barely stand it. It’s not a stretch for your brain and body to imagine how that motion would feel on your bare pussy.

“Ever since you gave me a hand job for the first time…well, I’ve been wanting to return the favor.” Shoto says softly, and your brain feels like its full of static.

Is he saying what you think he’s saying? He wants to finger you and get you off?!

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

And that's all for now, folks! See you soon for the official chapter post!

XOXO,

Red Riot Unbreakable Heart ❤️

[ladykailitha]

The Caged Bird Still Sings Part 13

Hello!!! We are back for another lovely chapter of this fic. It's still going strong and I have hit Act 3. I don't know how many chapters of that there will be, but I'm to the happy parts of the story. So yay!!!

In this we find out who our little elf is, and Steve makes an instant friend. Then he tries sushi with disastrous results.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Pt 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

~

Steve watched as she turned in slow motion and her eyes go wide. She then threw her hands over her eyes.

“I’m sorry to disturb you!” she shrieked. “Please put your shirt back on!”

He huffed out a laugh and then went over to the dresser and pulled out a old t-shirt. “There, I’m all dressed. Now tell me who you are.”

“I’m Robin Buckley!” she squeaked. “I’m sixteen and about to enter my senior year of high school, my Uncle Justin got me the job as a PA for the band Corroded Coffin, but my mom was worried about the band taking advantage of me, so she insisted I stay in Hawkins. Which worked out great because I got the task of sneaking stuff in your hotel room, which is also great because I’m super stealthy!”

Steve smiled, immediately taking a liking to her. “Wow that was a lot. Nice to finally put a name and a face to the person who keeps sneaking into my room while I’m showering.”

Robin blinked for a minute before she realized the implication of that. “Oh shit! You must have thought I was a creep or something. God, I’m so sorry!”

“Something like that,” Steve said, tilting his head and chuckling. “But now that I’ve met you, it’ll be easier to drop stuff off whenever and not have to wait for me to be gone or out of the main room.”

“You don’t mind that I can just walk in?” she asked in confusion.

Steve shrugged. “The cleaning staff do it all the time. Unless I put out the tag that says do not disturb, they just come in to do their job. That’s how I made friends with Carla and Juan. They’re teaching me Spanish!”

Robin blinked at him for a moment. “You’re learning Spanish from the cleaning crew?”

He walked up and flopped on the sofa, kicking his feet up. “Juan is teaching me all the swear words first.”

“Wow,” she said, sinking into a nearby chair. “Don’t you have other friends that come see you?”

Steve shook his head. “All my friends abandoned me when my dad caught me and my boyfriend on the sofa making out. I can’t tell anyone else where I am because my dad could find me and beat the shit out of me for not leaving town like he wanted.”

“Wait...” Robin said, “Are you Steve Harrington?”

He reared his head back in confusion. “I mean yeah, weren’t you told who I was?”

She got up and pushed his feet to the floor to sit on the sofa next to him. “Holy shit, dude. No one knows where you’ve been. There have rumors about you still being seen around town, but your like a local cryptid or some shit. All anyone knows is that you’ve been laying low.”

Steve sat up straight. “Wait, really?” He burst out laughing. “I guess being registered at the hotel as Steve Munson is really doing its job.”

“Yeah,” Robin said enthusiastically, “even my mom thinks your his cousin. She’s been broadly hinting that I should accidentally meet you so you can date me.” She snorted. “Which even if you weren’t over eighteen, sorry you’re not my type.”

“Yeah, what is your type?” Steve asked. Robin pursed her lips and looked up. “Come on, who am I going to tell? Eddie and the band are about to be out of communication because they’re traveling out of country.”

“Girls.”

He snorted and then snapped his mouth shut. “Sorry. Um...like I just told you I was caught with my boyfriend and you were worried about telling me you like girls?”

She blinked at him for a moment and then gave a snort of her own. “Oops!”

Steve shook his head. “Hopeless. Just a couple of baby gays in the most backwater town in the whole fucking state. At least you can tell your mom that you’re not my type.”

“That’s true,” Robin said cocking her head to the side. “She didn’t want me traveling with the band because she was afraid that they would prey on a teenage girl. Like I feel like I would be safer with them then some stranger in a hotel room, but...” she shrugged.

“Mom logic,” Steve said, nodding, “can’t argue with it and can’t make it make sense either.”

Robin threw her arms in the air. “Exactly!” She looked around the room and spotted the presents she was supposed to have leaving for him.

“The presents!”

“The shower!” Steve shouted at the same time and they both went running. Steve to the bathroom to turn of the water and Robin to grab the boxes from the sidebar.

They met back in the middle. Robin shoved the boxes at him.

“I want to know what’s in them,” she said brazenly. “I’m not allowed to peek and I really want to know about everything Eddie Munson is sending you.”

Steve laughed and shook his head. “It could be sex toys you know. Are you sure you want to see what’s in here?”

“Yes!” she huffed and smacked his arm. “Now open it!”

Steve opened the first box and inside was a beautiful yellow floor length robe with a note that said, ‘For that hot divorceé look!’

Robin raised an eyebrow at him. “Care to explain that one?”

“I was feeling down a couple of days ago because I was bored,” Steve explained trying not to laugh, “I said I felt like a divorceé who had taken her husband to the cleaners, but now was only left with riches and no company.”

She looked around the fancy hotel room like she was properly seeing it for the first time. She took in all the brass fittings, black marble, and leather furniture. It was pretty, but it was very much not a place someone lived in, only visited.

She couldn’t imagine staying here for as long as Steve had been here. “Oh.”

Steve shifted in his seat, suddenly feeling uncomfortable with her pity. So he opened the other present. It was a much smaller box, he had wanted to open the big one first because he guessed it was probably clothes.

Inside was small golden music box that when he opened it it had a little yellow bird singing “Birdhouse in Your Soul” by They Might Be Giants. Only blue canary was swapped for yellow, mangling the song a little, but Steve was touched.

“What is with all the yellow stuff especially the yellow birds?” Robin asked as he handed it to her. She had spotted a lot of them as she looked around the room.

Steve laughed and told her about how he met Eddie, highlighting especially the part about wearing yellow in the middle of a metal concert.

“Oh my god!” Robin said roaring with laughter, “I think I would have shriveled up and died of sheer embarrassment if that was me.”

“That would assume I had any dignity at that point,” Steve pointed out. “My dad had tossed me out, I lost my job, and all my friends. If there were better places to get drunk in this god forsaken town, I would have gone there.”

“Have you tried getting another job?” she asked, tilting her head the side. “Like they can’t all be afraid of your dad.”

He just shrugged. “I guess I never thought about it, really. Just been trying to keep away from him.”

“But he’s been out of town for a couple of weeks, right?” Robin pressed. “Do you really think he’s going to come back and hound you just for trying to get a job?”

Steve shrugged again. “You don’t know my dad. His colleagues call him Mad Dog because he’s as tenacious as a bulldog and twice as mean. If he gets it into his head that I must be ran out of town, he’s going to do whatever he can to make it happen. He only left town because Chief Hopper stonewalled him.”

Robin wrinkled her nose but didn’t say anything.

Steve showed her all the other presents Eddie had gotten him and she was delighted with each one. But especially the necklace.

“Well now there are two birds in this cuckoo nest,” Robin said proudly. “Robin and Canary.” She held out her hand and Steve took it with a smile.

“So does this mean you won’t be sneaking around my hotel room from now on?” he asked with a lopsided grin.

She burst out laughing. “I might do a little sneaking for old times sake, but yeah. I’ll make sure to announce my presence from now on.”

“Good,” Steve said with a huff. “Get out of here so I can shower.”

She laughingly did as she was told, Steve shaking his head the whole time.

~

After Steve got out of his shower and bathrobe secured tightly at his waist, he sat down with the want ads. He had long since gotten a subscription to the newspaper for the movie times and funny pages. But now he could use it to see if anyone was hiring.

Because as much of a loud mouth asshole, Tommy had been, he had a point. He couldn’t just sit around and wait to be be rescued by Eddie. There was no guarantee that Eddie would continue to fund Steve’s life style after the band returned from their tour.

He flopped on the bed with a red pen and the newspaper open in front of him. He scoffed when he saw that Family Video was still looking to replace him, even though it had been six weeks since they fired him.

He really didn’t know how to do much. His main jobs had been being a lifeguard at the rec center and the Family Video job his dad forced him to take so that he could ‘learn how to be productive in society’ or whatever bullshit he had spouted at the time.

So he immediately disregarded anything that required typing or phone skills. With it being summer again, he could probably get his old job back at the rec center but then he would most certainly run afoul more Hank Tippets of the world. Which would be more trouble than it was worth.

There was the new mall.

Maybe he could find work there. He circled a couple of other places but decided his best bet would be the mall. He threw the newspaper aside and rolled over on his back.

He was hungry and tired and just wanted to forget about everything for awhile. So he got up and ordered food. This time was going for something different. Sushi. If he didn’t like it he could always order something else.

Steve needed to try other things and if it wasn’t on his dime or his parents forcing him to try it, why not? He couldn’t do raw oysters. But that was probably because he was six at the time and his mother forced him to try it.

Never doing that again.

He also ordered an appetizer just to double hedge his bets. He knew from the description that it was raw fish and rice. He wasn’t going into this completely blind.

The sushi arrived with his weird side of garlic mashed potatoes. Sue him, the potatoes were his comfort food. They were almost as good as the ones as his Auntie Sophie made. The recipe his mother would kill to get her hands on. And probably tried.

Look, he tried. He tried them with the brown liquid-y stuff, the red paste, and green goo. The green goo made his mouth burn like nothing he had ever experienced in his life. If he hadn’t tried the red paste first, he would have assumed it was all that bad.

So he tossed the rest of the sushi back on the trolley and begged for them to take it away and replace it with ice cream. Anything to stop the burning.

Eddie tried to be sympathetic when Steve told him that night, but Steve could tell the other man was trying so hard not to laugh.

Never again.

~

Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @beelze-the-bubkiss

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @sticknpokelightningbolt

9- @scoops-aboy86 @kurofuckingshi16 @watermelonmite @eyehartart @dreamercec

10- @little-birch-boy @yearningagain @micheledawn1975 @blondie1006 @sadisticaltarts

[percygranate]

⚠️PSA – ickybatz is back! Predators on AO3⚠️

⚠️TW for Mentions of Child Sexual Abuse, Child Abuse, Minor Sexual Content, Pedophilia, GROOMING, and Pedophile Conversations. PLEASE read and reblog if you can.

IMPORTANT UPDATE: Demobatz is NOT ickybatz, also known as batty-ruski, battyrusk.

I made a mistake by assuming due to the names, and after being in contact with Demobatz, I edited the post. I apologize for this but don't fully regret calling them out, as it helped Demobatz realize they made a mistake and it brought a lot of attention to the issue of predators on AO3 and Tumblr.

In-depth explanation [HERE]!

This 13/16-year-old CHILD is out here asking for pedophilia requests and getting encouraged and groomed by predators.

I accidentally came across it, and I encourage you to report them and everyone interacting with their work. There is a difference between dark romance, dark fics, and straight-up romanticization of children being assaulted.

They write about these children actively partaking and enjoying it, hoping they can please the adult taking advantage of them. These works are clearly written for the type of person that gets off on it.

——— Update ———

Their way of writing to cope with past trauma was groomed and manipulated by predators on AO3.

——— Update ———

——— False Information | Demobatz isn't Ickybatz ———

So much for “Oh, they are a traumatized child and made a mistake.” They now know it's wrong and continue doing it, even worse than before. And people continue to support it.

Their fucking apology was absolute bullshit. And everyone that came to their defense should be ashamed of themselves.

——— False Information | Demobatz isn't Ickybatz ———

↓ Here are AO3 accounts supporting this. ↓

Yes, they put warnings on their work and say “Don’t Like It, Don’t Read It!” But I would like to show you what they are writing, and how they are getting the attention of predators. I am sure you have to agree with me that they and everyone supporting this need to lose any type of platform they own. Demobatz should NOT be in any contact with these men.

⚠️They encourage each others to write this and Demobatz, A 13/16-YEAR-OLD, is actively putting themselves in danger by making “friends” for roleplay, and exchanging social media, with very likely, PEDOPHILES. They are actively getting groomed by people that know what they are doing.⚠️

——————————————————

↓These are their two original works↓

Financial Struggles — The summary says it all. But I feel like I should point out their conversation under their post.

Mother’s Milk — Sexual Assault of a male baby.

——————————————————

↓This is their work in the Stranger Things Fandom↓

Their work “Deceit” which is taking requests and actively posting has, as of May 21st, 16 Chapters.

1 — “Using this as a coping mechanism for my own trauma. Please request, any age is allowed❤️”

2 — Eddie Munson, 25 y/o | Reader, 17 y/o

3 — Uncle Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson | Reader, 6 y/o

4 — Eddie Munson, 20 y/o | Reader, 12 y/o

5 — Steve, 19 y/o & Eddie, 20 y/o | Reader, 14 y/o

6 — Dad Steve | Reader, 8 y/o

7 — Dad Steve & Eddie | Reader, 8 y/o

8 — Big Brother Steve | Reader, 4 y/o

9 — Big Brother Billy Hargrove | Reader, 6 y/o

10 — “Posting this so that you all can give me ideas on what to post next❤️ Anything is allowed/ age can be whatever you want♡♡!”

11 — Billy & Steve | Reader, 3 y/o

12 — Hopper & Joyce | Reader, 4 y/o

13 — !BILLY HARGROVE AND A NEWBORN BABY!

14 — Billy | Reader, 6 y/o & Max, 7 y/o

15 — “It hasn't been a week and I'm almost at 2,000 reads! Thank you all so much♡♡ Feel free to drop suggestions, request or even ideas/blurbs♡♡”

16 — Big Brother Eddie / Reader over the years, starting at 6 y/o

——————————————————

They actively encourage pedophilia and put themselves on a silver platter for predators.

If you are still trying to justify these types of works, please do it off anon and openly so you can be blocked since you are part of the problem.

Do not send threats, bullying, or harassment their way. Block and Report.

If you know one or more of the interacting blogs, call them out.

⚠️UPDATE: 22nd of May⚠️

Dear fellow Bloggers, Demobatz pedophilia fic “Deceit” has been taken down!

Yet their two original works (mentioned above) are still there. I ask you to keep reporting them!

Demobatz is currently using Wit as their social media to exchange ideas for their CSA & incest Erotica, and worse, to roleplay with potential predators.

⚠️Update: May 25th⚠️

AO3 has removed their account or they deleted it themselves. Their Wit profile has been deleted.

Due to this post, my blogs keep getting shadowbanned and reported.

⚠️Update: May 26th⚠️

DEMOBATZ CONTACTED ME AND I CAN CONFIRM THIS APOLOGY TO BE REAL!

In-depth continuation and explanation [HERE]!

⚠️I turned off Reblogs as the original post with false information is still making rounds and therefore people are missing information.⚠️

[writerslittlelibrary]

I'm your mother now, chapter 1

masterlist series masterlist

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8

summary: when you wake up in a strange room, you soon come to realize the amazing Black Widow, who appears to be the perfect role model for girls all around the world, is greatly deranged…

pairing: Dark!Natasha x teen reader

warnings: yelling, a lot of swearing, dark themes, kinda evil Natasha

genre: angst

words: 2972

a/n: I really wanted to write a dark Natasha fic but I didn't want to make it romantic or anything, so I went with the idea of Natasha kidnapping a child. Please don't read this if you are not comfortable with dark themes. Reader is kinda abused but that's because of Natasha's trauma.

Hope you enjoy, and please let me know what you think :)

(I decided to make this a series, as I have so many ideas but find them simply too long for one fic. I will probably make a separate masterlist for the series) 

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work 

 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

You dropped your bag on the floor, kicking your shoes off and walking through the house, allowing yourself to fall on the couch in exhaustion. You were in highschool, and no matter what teacher you'd ask, they all called you their best student.

You passed every test, got good grades for every project, but mentally you were slipping. You hated your life. You hated the stupid loop you were trapped in. Every day is the same. You were tired. 

Your foster parents were scheduled to come home after dinner, so you knew you'd be able to lie on the couch for a while without being yelled at.

So that's what you did. 

You took a nap on the couch, enjoying the quietness of the house, when a noise upstairs catches you off guard. 

You get up slowly, carefully walking up the stairs. You had seen horror movies, and you knew what a bad idea it was, yet you decided to do it anyway. You creeped up the stairs, through the hallway and made it to your bedroom. It was small and there weren't many places to hide, but you were cautious anyway. 

Your window was open. The curtain was moving slightly due to the breeze outside. A shiver ran down your back. You had that feeling again. The same feeling you've had for the past few weeks. The feeling of being watched. 

You walked to your window carefully, pushing it close and locking it. Didn't you lock it yesterday?

Before you could even turn around, an arm clasped around your waist and a hand holding a cloth covered your mouth and nose. You tried to scream and try to get out of the person's grip, but it was of little use. The person holding you was strong. Way stronger than you were. 

You flung around in their grasp, trying to hit the arms that were holding you, but it was of no use. You heard a woman's voice behind you, shushing you and telling you it's all gonna be okay. Your eyes started drooping, falling close. The last thing you heard was a simple sentence….

“Shh baby, mama's got you…” 

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

Natasha had been observing you for weeks. She saw you in the park one day, sitting on a bench. You appeared to be okay, but she could see the way you were holding back tears. It took everything in her not to walk up to you and comfort you. 

After that day, she decided to watch you more often. She watched you when you picked out your clothes. She watched you when you went to school. She watched you when you came home and got yelled at. She watched all of it. 

After watching you for about a week, she decided to do some more research. She had to know everything about you. You were absolutely perfect.

She found out about your parents, how they left you in front of the police station one night. They didn't want you, and Natasha's heart broke. The foster families you were placed with didn't care much for you either. You were often heavily neglected, and you never knew real love. 

From what Natasha had seen, you were barely capable of taking care of yourself. She wondered how often you showered, how often you ate and if you even brushed your teeth. 

No one seemed to have taught you how to live, and it broke Natasha's heart. She was determined to make you feel loved. She knew it was fate. She had to take care of you. It was simply meant to be. 

Natasha had been trying to have a child for so long. After her past in the Red Room, she knew she'd never be able to conceive herself, but she had tried everything there was. She had gone to adoption agencies and tried to adopt. She had applied to become a foster mom but nothing worked. She'd pass most criteria, but when the psychological tests came her test scores dropped. The authorities simply deemed her to mentally unstable to take care of a child.

Natasha was mad. Mad at the authorities and mad at herself. She just wanted a child. That's all she's ever wanted. How on earth did anyone dare deny her that.

After she was denied for foster care, she was upset, but she didn't dare give up. Natasha was determined that she would find someone for her to take care of, and she did. Anyone in their right mind could see it. You were destined to be with Natasha. 

After observing you for quite a while, Natasha decided it was time. You were crying almost every night, the stress of school and your grades were simply too much. Natasha couldn't bear to see you like this any longer, so she finally decided to make her move. She snuck in when you were at school. She didn't even have to sneak in through the window. The doors had an easy lock, and she could easily pick it open. 

When she made her way inside, she immediately went up to your room. She looked through it, smelling your clothes, touching your bed and everything you owned, which wasn't a lot. 

She clutched your only stuffed animal tightly to her chest, a tear rolling down her cheek. She was finally going to be a mom, and she couldn't wait. 

She collected some of your stuff, but only the stuff she couldn't replace, which included some notebooks, coloring books and your stuffed animal of course. She stuffed it in a bag and put all of it in her car. After she finished, she made her way back inside and waited. 

When she heard you come home, she was nearly jumping at the anticipation and excitement. 

She started making some noises, hoping you'd come upstairs soon. She had opened the window in your room, knowing you'd walk over to close it. You did that every day. If you forgot to close the window, you'd close it after coming home from school. 

Soon enough, she heard you walking upstairs, peeking through the door of the bathroom. She waited until you went into your bedroom, indeed closing the window as she expected.

The moment you weren't looking, she snuck into your room and quickly covered your face, making you inhale the Chloroform she'd put on the cloth. You were flailing around heavily, trying to get loose from her grasp, but she just held on tight. 

Natasha tried to comfort you, shushing you as you slowly lost consciousness. 

After you had passed out, she carefully lifted you up, walking down the stairs and, after grabbing your school bag, walking back to her car. She was careful as she placed you on the backseat, protecting your head as you slept peacefully. 

She placed your stuffed animal in your arms, smiling at the sight of you fast asleep. She got into the driver's seat and took off, driving you two far away from the big city.

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

You groaned as the light hit your eyes, covering them with your hand as you blinked a few times, trying to get used to it. You stretched your arms above your head, slowly waking up from your deep slumber. 

The bed you were laying on was soft, way softer and more comfortable than you were used to, but you didn't really notice. The drugs were still wearing off, your brain pleasantly fuzzy as you slowly regained control over all of your senses. 

When you yawned and brought your hand up to your face, you finally realized the clothes you were wearing were not yours. 

You sat up quickly, scanning the room and realizing it looked nothing like yours. It was way too big, but it did seem to be arranged to your style and interests. You took in the room, confused as to how you got there and why it seemed to be accommodated perfectly to your wants and needs. 

You slowly slid your legs off the bed, sitting on the edge and carefully standing up, afraid your weary state would make you fall over. The pajamas you were wearing were soft and seemed to be made out of an expensive silk. 

You slowly stood up, walking around the room slightly. You thought you were dreaming. When you looked out the window, there was nothing but trees. You appeared to be in some clearing in the woods. You checked out the room, noticing how the books on the shelf looked an awful lot like the books you owned, except the books in this room seemed to be new and neat. 

It confused you, and when you turned around, you noticed the bedding was the same bedding as you'd always had, just for a queen sized bed. 

There were three doors in the room, and you ran to the closest one. When you opened it you found a closet, probably as big as your room back home. When you opened the next, you found a bathroom. It looked almost impossibly clean and the shower looked like it came straight from a millionaire's home.

When you opened the third door, you finally stood in a hallway. When you looked right, you saw another door, which was probably where the hallway ended, so you decided to go left. You walked fast, wanting to get out of the house as fast as possible. 

You were very confused by the whole situation. You remembered someone kidnapping you, but these were not the circumstances you expected to wake up in.

When you stormed down the stairs, you could see a kitchen on your right. You spotted a door right in front of you. It looked like the front door, so you immediately ran towards it, trying to open it. It didn't budge. You'd need a code, a finger scan and voice recognition. You sighed as you leaned your forehead against it. 

After standing there for a solid 5 minutes, you decided to explore the rest of the house. 

You reckoned you were alone, as no one had approached you yet, even when you tried to leave the house. You slowly walked into the kitchen, from it spotting a living area with a few couches, and on top of it, you saw a redhead. 

You froze when you saw her, unable to move or talk as fear overtook your body. 

“Ah, good. I was wondering when you'd wake up. I was thinking of ordering take-out. Just come over here and we can pick something,” the woman spoke as if she'd known you for years.

You didn't move, so the woman turned around, putting her book aside and getting up. She walked towards you slowly, but she didn't seem worried she'd scare you away. “You don't want take-out?” she questioned, putting her phone on the kitchen island. You stood next to it as she now stood in front of it, crossing her arms. 

“Where am I?” you shakily asked, worried you'd upset her. You knew the woman, of course. Every person in the world knew her. She was Natasha Romanoff. The Black Widow and fearless Avengers, although she retired a few years back. 

“What do you mean, silly? You're home of course,” Natasha spoke, looking confused as to why'd you even ask such a question. 

You frowned. “This isn't my home?...” Natasha shook her head. “Of course it is.” “Why did you kidnap me?” Natasha shook her head at your question. “I just brought you home, sweetie.”

“What the fuck?! Take me home!” you yelled, and she looked a little surprised before her expression went back to normal.

“I know it's your first day here, but you do not speak to me like that. Do you understand?” she responded, but it only made you madder. “Who the fuck do you think I am? Let me go, you crazy bitch!” you yelled as you tried to push her, but Natasha easily caught your wrists. 

“Careful honey. I know you're confused but that is no way to speak to your mother.” “You're not my fucking mother-”

Slap.

Natasha had slapped you across the face. Your head turned from the impact, your cheek almost immediately reddening. tears stung in your eyes as you moved your hand up to cup your cheek, a silent sob wrecking through your body.

“I am a very lenient person, but don't you ever dare speak to me in such a tone again,” she said. “Now go sit on the couch and think about what you want to order for take-out dammit.” 

You moved slowly, keeping your head down as you sat on one of the couches, silently crying over the situation. After a few minutes, Natasha returned from the kitchen, holding an ice-pack. She grabbed your chin and tilted your face up without a word, pressing the ice-pack against your red cheek. She softly smiled down at you, using her free hand to pet the hair out of your face. 

You sniffled, and she leaned down to give you a kiss on your forehead. “Mama didn't want to hurt you like that sweetheart, but you took it too far,” she said, pulling back and smiling down at you again. “Mama loves you. I promise.” She pulled the ice-pack away and softly kissed your cheek.

She put the ice-pack on the coffee table and sat on the couch to your right. She pulled out her phone from her back pocket and seemed to scroll through something.

“So what are you feeling like?” she asked, looking at you with a smile. You sniffled quietly, looking down to avoid her gaze. “We could do burgers, or maybe sushi? I know those are your favorites,” she told you, and you instantly wondered how she'd know such a thing. 

“Come on. Tell me what you want,” she urged, nodding slightly to encourage you. 

“Fries…” you said quietly, and Natasha smiled. “Exactly what I was feeling. Would you like chicken nuggets on the side?” she asked you, and you nodded. “Perfect,” she said as she typed it into her phone, paying quickly and tossing it aside.

“The food will be here soon. Would you like to watch a movie while we wait, or would you rather explore the house a bit more?” she asked, patiently waiting for your answer.

You shrugged, not wanting to pick an option that might make her mad. “We can also just sit here for a while. I know you must be confused, but I promise you everything will fall right into place.”

You were mad. Mad at how Natasha acted like everything was fine. Mad at how she acted like she had any authority over you. Mad at how she'd slapped you. Mad at how she was acting like she was your mother. Mad at how she seemed unbothered and acted like your behavior was insane. But mostly, you were mad at yourself. Mad how you looked up to her. Looked up to the amazing Black Widow. She had always been your favorite Avengers. How could she not be?

After sitting on the couch for a few minutes, you looked up slowly, seeing Natasha staring at you with a smile on her face. 

“Would you like to watch something now?” She asked, holding up the remote. When the hell did she grab that? You nodded slightly, and Natasha smiled widely at you for it. She pressed a few buttons on the remote, and soon the tv lit up with your favorite show ready to play. Natasha pressed play, and the show started exactly where you stopped last night.

You sat quietly as you watched the show, scared to make any noises. 

After about an hour, there was a knock on the door, and Natasha got up to open it. “Just wait here,” she said as she walked away. You got up from the couch and peeked around the wall, seeing the door and catching a glimpse of a blonde woman. 

She didn't look like a delivery person, and you realized Natasha must've called someone she knew to make sure no one knew the location of the house.

The woman handed Natasha the take-out bag and they spoke for a moment, before she moved to give Natasha a hug. They hugged for a second and Natasha kissed the woman's cheek. You watched as they said their goodbye's, hearing Natasha say she'll visit the blonde woman soon. 

You quickly made your way back to the couches, sitting back down and waiting for Natasha to come back.

Once she did, she set the take-out on the kitchen counter. You watched silently as she moved around the kitchen, grabbing two plates and opening the bag. “Just so you know, I see and hear everything. Don't sneak up on me again. You're old enough to ask when you want something,” Natasha spoke, not looking up from her task of plating the food.

Your breath caught in your throat. You should've known. She used to be an assassin for goodness sake. Of course she could tell if you'd watch her. 

Natasha grabbed the two plates and brought them back to the couches. She handed one to you, but when you went to grab it she didn't let it go. You looked at her, and she raised an eyebrow to you. “Thank you…” you said silently, and she smiled as she let you take the plate, moving to sit down herself. 

You ate in silence, not missing the glances Natasha shot your way. You found it creepy. You had no idea why you were here and what Natasha wanted with you. She had referred to herself as your mother a few times now, and it confused you beyond words. 

For now, you decided to let the confusion go, focusing on eating your food and surviving the night. 

Who knows what tomorrow would bring…

chapter 2

[danieyells]

Can I see Romeo's voicelines please? He's such a failguy, I need to knowwww

How dare you call him a failguy!

he is THE failguy. don't make him sound offbrand.

i love Romeo he is honestly so ridiculous like. . .you meet Romeo in the first chapter and you do NOT realize he's going to be like. . .that. . .in the Sinostra chapter. . . .

Hello: (the first time the game is opened after that character is set as home screen NPC. Only happens once per day, unless the character is switched out and back.)

"Hey! I'm talking to you, BB! If you've got time to wander around, you've got time to wipe the tables!"

i thoguht the pc was supposed to be doing uh background work for you at the casino. why is she cleaning tables!? go ask her to run drugs for you or something.

You've Got Mail: (whenever there's something in the inbox, usually Arena rewards)

"Excuse me? What sane person lets their messages pile up like this!? Deal with them or I'll deal with you!"

'clean up your inbox or they will have to clean you and put you in a box'

Default: (requires no affinity, has no time constraints)

"Fuji... Come out, come out, wherever you are... Tch, where did he go? Why is running away the only thing he's good at!?"

"Listen up—call me Fico. That's the only name I'll respond to, understand!?"

disregard the 'Lulu' from Taiga, 'Romi-sama'/'Ro-Ro' from Leo, 'RomiRomi' from Rui. . .'Fico' is for underlings, and you are an underling!

"Come to my private office later—I've got a little proposal I think you'll want to hear.  But make sure you come alone."

"Just go! I cannot deal with this WTWUT! Wall-To-Wall Useless Trash, obviously!"

that was a long acronym!

"Time to count this month's protection fees... Not bad. I'll up this group by 2% next month. This one could go a little higher too..."

Affinity 1: (between 5am and 11am)

"Why does that DOF want to meet so early in the morning? If I get bags under my eyes because of this, I'm going to slit his throat."

we never learned what "DOF" stood for did we. we do know it's Hyde now, though!

Affinity 2: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Hello? Yes, I was just eating lunch. Again?  ...Fine. Tonight? All right. Bye now."

booty call from hyde? in the middle of the day? shameless

Affinity 3: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Have you seen Shinjo anywhere? I just asked him to organize some documents and he ran off to make copies!"

Ritsu has a line referencing this one!

Affinity 4: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Mickey's bar? Yes, I am going again tonight, but it's only because there's nowhere else to go for a drink."

isn't there a bar in the casino. . .i guess he doesn't wanna spend time on the casino floor. also "Mickey" is Rui Mizuki, if you weren't able to figure that out haha

Affinity 5: (between 8pm and 5am)

"This is when the regulars usually come, so I have to sweeten the pot. I saw that HNTW out there earlier too."

i hate you and your acronyms LMAOOOO I THINK THIS IS REFERRING TO KAITO??? MAYBE??? he's the only character besides Taiga who frequents the casino that we're aware of!

Affinity 6: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"How dare those Frostheim slugs start whispering the moment they see my face... One day they'll be groveling at my feet..."

oof. . .the frostheimers are gossiping about the collapse of his family. . .yeah i'd be mad too there bud. i'd like to think he wanted to transfer to Frostheim once he became a second year and he ended up not doing it because Frostheim was just so toxic.

Affinity 7: (between 11am and 4pm)

"...Looks like I'm due for a tune up soon. Keeping my posture beautiful isn't easy, no matter how much I train my core."

i assume he sees like a chiropractor or a physical therapist or something. gets his atlas adjusted. maybe don't lean over your EITS laptops lol

Affinity 8: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"You're smelling the bedtime fragrance I bought from Kurossa earlier. He has a good eye, so I often ask him to pick things out for me."

'Kurossa' is Leo Kurosagi and his lines also reference this! I'm glad they get along so well haha I think they mesh pretty great. also the fact that Romeo gives little nicknames to people is cute. . . .

Affinity 9: (between 8pm and 5am)

"You want to see my Insta? I suppose that's fine, but do you even know anything about brands?"

brand ambassador romeo. . .god he probably does all sorts of dumb beauty shit on his instagram. do you think he participates in those health pyramid schemes? probably not, right, he's fairly legitimate in his business practices. . .sort of, sometimes, kind of, as long as you don't owe him money. . . .

Affinity 10: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Fuji's pendant? Of course I haven't given up on it. He has no idea of the value of what's hanging around his neck."

neither do we! please inform us!! but on the upside that means that Romeo knows what it is, to some degree. I assume it's some rare, powerful artifact. Kaito at least knows it's important.

Affinity 11: (between 5am and 11am)

"I have to drink a cup of room-temperature water, do an electric facial and a mask, apply body cream, do my neck routine... I have no free time in the morning."

Affinity 12: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Hey! There's a hair on the ground over here! And there's dust over here! Can't you even clean something properly without me holding your hand!?"

this is directed at his underlings, not the pc(or not the pc by themself.) I also appreciate that the Japanese specifies this is one single hair he's pointing out. Somebody get this man a roomba.

Affinity 13: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"I maintain my bullets myself. You really think I'd let another man handle my crown jewels?"

handle your WHAT-- i mean anyone could've guessed you and taiga don't have a very active sex life

Affinity 14: (between 5am and 11am)

"What is going on with your skin!? Do you even have a proper routine in place? Unacceptable. Your overnight skin cell turnover is suboptimal and it shows."

Affinity 15: (between 5am and 11am)

"That BTH...! I was almost impressed to see him out so early until I realized he's been playing all night!!"

taiga pulling an all-nighter at his own goddamn casino lmao. . . .

Affinity 16: (between 11am and 4pm)

"What do you mean you don't need any more noni juice? I went out of my way to prepare it for you. Come on now, drink it."

he personally made it for you! now drink the bitter nasty health juice. don't make him feed it to you. (The fact that he made you a health dink--went out of his way to make it for you--shows that he's really starting to like you and now he's treating you like a pet.)

Affinity 17: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Finally, some goods worth talking about. I have to ring that DOF and arrange the next event..."

so Hyde is an active participant in these auctions huh. . .are the secret missions he gives Romeo based on selling and distributing artifacts and anomalies in secret. . .?

Affinity 18: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Money, hard work, and patience... That's the cost of true beauty. Don't think it's something you can easily imitate."

Affinity 19: (between 10pm and midnight)

"How about a smoke before bed? I'm joking. If I wasn't selling it, I wouldn't be touching this unhealthy garbage."

quick someone shoop the "quieres" meme with romeo HE DOESN'T ACTUALLY TELL YOU WHAT HE'S HANDLING. . .considering his line of work it could be anything but regular cigarettes or cigars. Is it weed? is it crack?? is it meth???? i find that romeo is essentially the campus dealer hilarious.

Affinity 20: (between 5am and 11am)

"What? I'm on my way to the gym for a workout. ...You can join me if you're interested."

you know damn well he probably hates getting sweaty. but he's gotta keep up with his health and all so a little workout's not off the table. also you know he's wearing some fuckin. gucci leggings or some shit.

Affinity 21: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Why are you carrying that!? What if you drop it and it breaks? I'll get one of our young guys to do it, so put it down already!"

aw he's worried about--oh no he's just worrying about you dropping his stuff.

Affinity 22: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"I won't let anyone destroy what I've built— not even my OAOF."

GOD I HOPE THEY EXPLAIN THESE ACRONYMS SOMEWHERE ALONG THE LINE. I assume the first word is "Own". . .the last word could be "Family" or "Followers"/"Faction" or "Feelings". . . .

Affinity 23: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Most of humanity's problems can be solved with money. If you put that another way, without money, you don't stand a chance. That's the way the world works."

again, Taiga compared Ritsu's family to Romeo's before The Incident. Romeo lost everything he had at one point. He's afraid of ending up with nothing again. That's all. Even with the Casino, he doesn't want to lose it because it'd be losing everything he has again. Having no money means going back to 0.

Affinity 24: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Coming here alone this time of night, haven't you made progress? Come over here, I'll evaluate your efforts."

pc's getting brave enough to go to Sinostra in the middle of the night! probably did some shady job for him too. Also the face he makes while praising you for coming to Sinostra alone late at night is a little. . . .

Affinity 25(max): (no time constraints)

"What could you possibly be afraid of? You're one of my people! Walk with your head held high or I'll step on it!"

BBY YOU CAN STEP ON HER HEAD ANYWAY. PLEASE DO IT. 👀 also you have been opted out of being one of Taiga's people I guess. You have chosen your faction. /joke

Spring: (March-May) (between 5am and 11am)

"This year's AW collection is out... Tch. Not even a hint of taste in any of it. They'll bear this mark of shame for years."

I KNOW THIS ACRONYM! He's complaining about Autumn-Winter fashion!!! lbr romeo men's fashion is kinda boring anyway. I wonder if his family owned a fashion brand. . . .

(between 11am and 4pm)

"I don't mind the springtime in Japan. The mild weather is a bonus, but it's the transient beauty of the cherry blossoms I truly appreciate."

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"The new prototype is a tear bomb? A lot of anomalies don't even have eyes, is this really going to be useful?"

i mean it might be useful for the ones that have eyes. . .or for hunting down Kaito.

(between 8pm and 5am)

"Shut up! It's nearly time to settle the books so I'm completely run off my feet! I don't have time to deal with you, understand!?"

Summer: (June-August) (between 5am and 11am)

"Summer is all about aquamarine... If you believe that, you're a follower. A trendsetter would know to go against the grain with a heavier jade piece."

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Excuse me!? You really think I would stoop to petty theft!? This scarf and hat are UV protection!"

LMAO HE LOOKED SO SHADY THE PC GOT WORRIED

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"This? It's an original hot water blend with salt and lemon I came up with. You shouldn't be cooling your insides just because it's hot outside!"

i mean. i guess it'll technically help you sweat and cool down faster????

(between 8pm and 5am)

"The heat's finally starting to ease off. I want to take a shower, but it's nearly our peak hour..."

Autumn: (September-November) (between 5am and 11am)

"They gave us nothing but useless bottom feeders this year... I'd like to see who raised this bunch of idiots. They don't even have a grasp of basic etiquette."

(between 11am and 4pm)

"I'm going to the training grounds to demonstrate sharpshooting for the first- years. It's a waste of my time, but I'm the most skilled at it."

he just wants everyone to see how good he is lolol

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"The SS collections are out. What? Are you telling me you don't pay attention to Paris Fashion Week?"

(between 8pm and 5am)

"The boss won't stop whining about being hungry. Obviously I'm not going to cook. What are you all standing around for, you damn TGAs!?"

lol Romeo has his underlings feed Taiga as much as Taiga demands food of his own underlings. "please feed your father the boss before he eats one of the chancellor's cats again."

Winter: (December-February) (between 5am and 11am)

"You look like a fat slug in those clothes. Keeping warm is important, but couldn't you at least tough it out when you're meeting me!?"

HARSH. how about you get her outfits then!!! lolol he's looking at you all bundled up and doesn't even wanna be seen with you

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Everywhere is so dry, it's unbearable. I want to go back to my room and moisturize..."

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"I get aches when it's cold... I'm taking off early tonight to go drink, then I'll warm up with a low bath."

'i'm gonna put alcohol in me which will make me feel warm but actually make me colder, then get in the bath for a while' lol

(between 8pm and 5am)

"Tch... This is the most profitable time of year for us, where the hell is that BTH!?

well you see Taiga hates the cold too so he's probably in a blanket burrito. . . .

His birthday: (November 14th)

"Today is Fico's birthday, so you're dining in style. I'm not going to eat any though, so you can finish it off."

'it's my birthday, so i'm going to treat you! what? me? eat?? no, i'm on a diet!!' i am once again asking the ghouls to EAT PROPER MEALS PLEASE IT IS YOUR BIRTHDAY ROMEO HAVE ONE CHEAT DAY. DOESN'T EVEN HAVE TO BE CAKE.

Your birthday:

"It's your birthday? I suppose I can celebrate it for you, but you'd better be aware of how much of my precious time you're using."

he treats you better on his birthday than yours. . . .

New Years: (January 1st)

"Felice anno nuovo! This will be the year I claim Fuji's debt and his pendant!"

oh my god he does speak italian. you hear more tidbits of italian fromTaiga than him. also Kaito's pendant must be super important if that's his new years resolution. this is gonna matter in the long run isn't it.

Valentine's Day: (February 14th)

"Hmph. I'm not familiar with this packaging. If you're giving me chocolate, you better have selected it with the utmost care!"

'this is not brand name. how dare you.'

White Day: (March 14th)

"Here. They're mimosa cookies, a special order from an upmarket confectionary in Ginza. I can't say whether your peasant tastebuds can appreciate them though."

peasant? who are you, jin? fun fact, Taiga's White Day line references this one!

"What's that expectant look on your face? Lulu was harping on about mimosas or something before. That what you want?"

so Romeo gets the cookies whether or not he plans to give you some i guess lol

April Fool's Day: (April 1st)

"Just you try and fool me—I'll tear those rags off you and throw you in a cage. So? What do you want?"

converting your friends into human trafficking victims is the latest new prank sweeping the internet!

Halloween: (October 31st)

"Do you have face paint in your pores!? Go wash it off before you end up with hyperpigmentation!!"

Christmas: (December 25th)

"Buon Natale! Go get ready—that reindeer's around again. This year I'm going to catch it for sure!!"

he's going to auction off one of santa's reindeer. . . .

Idle: (about 20 seconds without interacting with the game) (below 13 affinity)

"Tch... If you don't have any business for me, I'm leaving! You're wasting my precious time!"

(13 affinity and above)

"My drink is empty. Hey! I'm talking to you! Go bring me a refill!"

Absent: (logging in for the first time in 2 or more days?)

"Well, look what the cat dragged in. Do I have to teach you how to maintain an adult relationship? This is your last chance, got it!?"

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG THE ADHD KICKED IN AND I GOT SUPER DISTRACTED i love Romeo so much he's so. . .silly lmao. he's a very fun character. even though i hate his acronyms. But he's also so worried about his image and his money. . .and as much as he complains I think he worries about Taiga too. And as he comes to like you more he worries about you too. It's just that strictness and maintaining control is how he feels most comfortable and how he expresses his attachments. He trusts you. So he wants you to be able to hold you to a high standard.

[mmogurl]

In The Shadow of Dragons Chapter 9: Coiled Up and Hissing

18+ | 5.1k | Daemon Targaryen X Female OC | possessive, protective, objectifying, simping, raunchy Daemon | Uncle / niece incest, Targcest, Courtship, alt canon universe

I don't want to spoil this chapter, so I'm not going to describe what happens given I get into it pretty quickly anyway! The one thing I will say - is that there is some drama - and you can probably tell with who from the gif above. ;) Also, I was running behind with editing on this chapter, so apologies if there are any flubs in it. Told from Daemon's POV.

CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | CH 5 | CH 6 | CH 7 | CH 8 | CH 9 Also on AO3

Time seemed to stretch on far slower than it should have as Daemon waited patiently for his sweetling to join him in the Godswood.

Earlier, he had retired to his chambers for awhile, freshened up, and even busied himself reading an excerpt from a rather large tome on Valyrian history. He’d enjoyed the familiarity of reading the runes of his mother language, the daring acts of his ancestors captivating him until the night fell heavier upon the Red Keep.

By now he was certain the hour of the bat had come and gone, giving way to its successor, the eel. And as he paced back and forth in front of the great weirwood tree, a puzzled scowl darkened his face in wondering what was keeping his sweet betrothed from their planned meeting. It was not like her to keep him waiting, and yet as more time passed and she did not appear, Daemon’s mood became uneasy with worry that something might actually be wrong.

He was just about to go and seek her out, figuring he’d knock at the secret passageway to gain access to her room, when the sound of footsteps rustling through the grass rose to his attention. He faced the direction of the noise, and smiled as he saw the silhouette of one clad in a dress. Daemon’s mouth opened to call out to her, but stopped before speaking as he realized the form did not belong to his Ryna. No, this woman had a stouter frame than his slender riñitsos, a figure widened by childbirth that he knew well; it was Rhaenyra.

Daemon’s brow furrowed, his expression shifting from one of expectation to confusion, then finally to irritation. There was very little reason for his eldest niece to be out and about at night and given he was expecting Ryna, she was only making a nuisance of herself as far as he was concerned.

“Niece?” he called out with a frown. “What in the Seven Hells are you doing out here at this hour?”

“I thought I might find you here,” she said in a voice that might have sounded coy coming from any other woman. But Rhaenyra made it sound natural, proud even, as though there was nothing wrong with their meeting here.

As she stepped out of the shadows into the glowing moonlight that bathed the clearing, Daemon was able to see her more clearly. He was surprised to take in the state of her dress, looking as though it had been thrown on haphazardly, the laces barely tightened and the bust hanging lowly. She also donned a hooded robe over it, her hair a tangle of silver gold about her shoulders, reflecting brightly as though she were an ethereal being.

There was a look of heady desire in her eyes as she approached him, though he knew not if it was hunger for him or if she had other ulterior motives in mind as was typical with the heir to the throne. Rhaenyra stood beside him, almost too closely, peering up with a mixture of determination and a wanton desperation.

“I need to speak with you,” she said, her voice tinged with a sense of entitlement, as though she expected he should drop everything to listen to her.

“Shouldn’t you be abed,” Daemon replied, his voice slightly sardonic, but still betraying an air of concern. Rhaenyra was certainly a headstrong Targaryen woman, but she typically kept her more questionable antics private. That she would approach him now in this unkempt state, told him that there was something more to her visit.

Daemon stood stock still, almost shocked by her daring as she took another step closer, so near he could feel the heat radiating from her body.

“Perhaps I should,” she agreed, her voice taking on a huskier tone as she looked up at him almost challengingly. “But you see, I can’t sleep. I have too much on my mind.”

He raised an eyebrow, his expression betraying doubt at her answer. She seemed a little too emboldened, too confident for his liking, and the overabundance of flesh peering through her gown suggested she had come with plans for much than just talking.

“Rhaenyra,” he said coldly, his words a warning against any further encroachment of his patience. “Return to your chambers before you behave in a way we will both regret.”

“Like I would not regret allowing my simple little sister to take you away from me?” she snapped back defiantly, her voice full of fire and rebellion.

Who the blazes does she think she is?? Impertinent little pup.

Oh, she had surely gotten his attention now. This whole charade of hers going from mildly amusing to downright insulting. His gaze darkened, his fists clenching with anger. How could Rhaenyra have the nerve to spout such things about his beloved, directly to his face as though it might help her cause and not hinder it?

He loomed hither to her, his posture threatening as he towered over her frame purposefully. “You would do well to watch your tongue, Niece,” he said, his words a low hiss. “I am not swayed as easily as you might think. No matter how you might try to entice me.”

Rhaenyra’s eyes narrowed, her lips pursed in a stubborn pout, though her body was moving closer, pressing against him as though compelled by an invisible force. Her hand reached out to touch his chest, skimming over the heavy woolen surcoat he wore.

“You wouldn’t have to do anything,” she crooned in a voice tinged with need. “I will take care of everything, if you wish it.”

The feel of her warm touch on his body sent a small shiver down his spine. He carefully schooled his features to hide the reaction from her, but Daemon could not deny that Rhaenyra was a beautiful woman. Even so, the unflinching resolve in her eyes and the presumptive quality of her voice sent a spark of anger through him. As though she saw no other outcome to this scenario but for him to succumb to her wiles. How dare she think she might just sweep in and have him simply because she desired him so?

With a deliberate air of calmness, he placed his own hand over hers on his chest. “And what did you expect to offer me?” he answered her forwardness with a cold indifference.

The Realm’s Delight smiled, a smug, confident expression that said she already thought this battle of wills won between them. She looked up at him from beneath her lashes, her fingers kneading soflty against the fabric of his surcoat.

“Anything you want, Uncle,” she said in a seductive whisper. “Anything you’ve dreamt of I will give you. If only you’ll forsake Ryna for me. We can get rid of my useless husband and finally be wed as it should have been in the first place. It should be you standing by my side when I sit upon the Iron Throne.” She leaned in dangerously close, her breath ghosting against the base of his neck. “Do not pretend that it is not everything you’ve ever truly wanted.”

The Iron Throne though cold and jagged was a tempting lure, one she knew would give him pause to consider. No matter how alluring, Daemon abhorred the way she spoke to him, as though his resistance was nothing more than a formality. He knew her to be impulsive, but this was something else entirely. Did she not realize that she was belittling his sweetling? He was no longer simply angry, but furious with the insult that she thought the Rogue Prince, a fearless rebel with no cause but that of his own choosing, would ever cow to her.

“You think you have some power over me?” he growled, his voice dropping to a dangerous level. “That I would simply discard my riñitsos because you offered me something you think grander?”

“Do not call her that,” she seethed, jealousy transparent as a scowl formed on her face at hearing such a familiar term of endearment. “I won’t let you do this, Daemon,” she continued in a voice that was becoming unhinged. “I cannot allow you to give yourself to her. You are mine.”

“You cannot allow?” his tone was sharp, his expression suddenly menacing as his hands moved to grip down roughly on her arms, pulling her closely to him. His eyes flashed with fury, like a violet storm beneath darkened brows. “No one, Rhaenyra, least of all you, tells me what I will or will not do,” he stated firmly and succinctly. “I will give myself to whomever I choose, and you will not stop me. You will not dictate to me, and you will not make demands. Do you understand?”

The look on her face was obstinate, a spoiled child not used to being rebuffed in this manner. She had always gotten her way, never been denied anything in her entire life, and she did not seem pleased with the concept of rejection.

“You cannot do this,” she whimpered as she shook her head with bewilderment. “You cannot just leave me for her. You have always been mine. Our hearts were always meant to burn together!”

Rhaenyra lunged forward, pressing her lips against his violently. It took him by such surprise that he froze a moment before regaining his wits and pulling back while keeping her in place with his grip. An agonized lament echoed out against the sound of his thudding heart, startling him even more than the forceful kiss had. He had thought the shriek made by the spoiled child in his grasp, but when he looked down to see her head turned to the side, a wicked grin tearing through her cheeks, his heart sank as he followed her gaze.

His world seemed to freeze with cruel clarity as his vision zeroed in on the fleeting figure of his sweetling. Turned on her heels and running from the ghastly sight of her intended kissing her sister. He rememebered the fears she’d given voice to when they first discussed the possibility of wedding, how she would not be second best even to her husband. His heart nearly stopped beating, his ears ringing and his stomach twisting as the reality of the situation fully set in.

No… No… No…

“You vicious wench,” he let out a hiss, roughly pushing Rhaenyra away from him, his amethyst eyes narrowed and filled with a murderous intent. “What have you done?”

But, it was not a question he expected an answer to, and as his violence gave way to horror it seemed everything went silent besides that deafening trill in his head.

“Fuck!” he raged, running as fast as his legs would carry him to catch up with her. “Ryna! Wait!” he called after her, not knowing if she heard him or whether she would heed the call if she had. He knew he could not let that bitch, Rhaenyra, win though, that he could not let his precious girl escape thinking the worst of him.

He could not lose Ryna, not because of this foolhardy blunder. He could not allow this one incident to destroy the bond they had spent a lifetime forging, and the past month honing. Not when they had come so damn close to finally being together.

“Sweetling!” Daemon’s voice roared up to the heavens as he sprinted out from the empty corridor and into the open air of the training yard. His long legs propelled him faster than the wind and yet he couldn’t seem to close the gap between them. “Stop! Wait! I can explain.. Just wait, Gods damn it!”

She looked back for a brief moment in response to his call and that was when she stumbled forward, tripping over a shield that had been left against a haybale. Finally, he closed in on her from behind, his wide reach enveloping her fully in his arms.

“Let go of me!” she fussed, kicking and elbowing him in a frantic attempt to get away.

“No!” he barked firmly, his hands wrapped tightly around her, keeping her arms trapped down at her sides so she could not escape. “Stop struggling. You are not getting away from me,” he held onto her vehemently, his voice a low snarl.

“How could you do this to me, Daemon? Was it always your plan to betray me for her? To make me fall so deeply in love with you that it would hurt all the more when she took you from me?” her voice was choked with tears, and it pained him to hear her say such things. Even knowing those terrible words came from a place of pain didn’t make them bite any less.

“I did nothing!” he bellowed loudly at her with frustration. Soon he could hear the clinking of platemail nearing as one of the Kingsguard came to investigate the commotion. They would not have privacy for long if they did not move. “This is exactly what that bitch wanted. Do not let her win. Come with me willingly and I will explain.”

Daemon turned her in his arms and gave her a firm squeeze, hoping that she would see reason. “Please,” he found himself asking softly, looking upon her tear-stained cheeks, the sound of heavy metal footsteps were getting closer with every passing moment. He could not remember the last time he had pleaded with someone like this. For a time it seemed as though the word please had not been a part of his vocabulary at all. Long ago he’d decided that nobody would ever make him beg for anything and yet here he was.

“Please, my sweet girl,” he implored her once more.

Her lower lip was still trembling with upset, but she nodded ever so faintly at him in acceptance. He took her hand and ran up the steps, ducking into the corridor that led past the Hand’s Tower to avoid any unwanted questioning. The last thing he needed was for the king to find out that he had been chasing his crying betrothed around the Red Keep at all hours of the night. Without any context as to what had occurred, Daemon knew Viserys would think the worst of him. It would mean the end of everything.

They needed privacy, a place he could speak freely away from the prying ears of staff and guard alike. Daemon placed a hand of the stone wall, his breath ragged from the exertion of running through the keep like a madman.

“Listen to me, riñitsos,” he ducked down, patting her hair back against the crown of her head soothingly. “Go back to your chambers and let me in the back way. We have made enough of a spectacle tonight. I promise I will be entirely honest with you, but we need to use discretion. Can you do this for me?”

Ryna wiped tears away from her face, almost as if offended by the presence of such weakness. Those beautiful, big eyes of hers were puffy and red from crying and yet still so full of injury. He hated that her ire was directed at him when he had done nothing to welcome Rhaenyra’s advances.

“Do not look upon me with such hateful eyes,” he said somberly, a hint of pain cracking into his voice. “You know your sister is capable of treachery. You know what a spiteful creature she is,” he tried to speak reason so that she might understand. “And what record of betrayal have you known of me? When have I ever hurt you so?”

She looked blankly at him, a weariness now settling into her features. Daemon could not stand to see her like this.

“Please, sweetling,” he murmured, bringing a hand up to the side of her face and wiping a few more of those salty tears away from her cheek. “Just do as I bid you.”

His head was still swarming with anger as he thought about the conniving little wretch. The way Rhaenyra had tricked him so effortlessly into believing she was in distress and the cruel laugh of malice that he’d heard as he ran off after Ryna. He felt like such a fool to be had in such a way, but he would never underestimate Rhaenyra again, would never allow her close again.

He leaned forward, his lips finding the peak of her head and giving her a gentle kiss. Her hair smelled so good, still fresh from her bath but mixed with the faint smell of sweat from their tussle. Daemon found himself just wanting to wrap himself up in this scent that was wholy hers, remembering every moment of passion they’d shared together vividly.

Gods, she is too precious to lose like this. Not like this…

“Fine, but only to explain yourself,” she finally eked out. “Nothing else.”

“Of course,” he agreed readily, his voice too eager for his own liking. “Then straight to your chambers, dear one. I will come to the back passage shortly.”

Ryna nodded and turned, dragging her feet slowly as she took the hallway that led back towards her room. Daemon hoped he could make her see the truth of what had transpired, but he feared she might not listen. That his sweetling would dwell on only her deepest fears come true, that Rhaenyra would always take everything that was hers and she would be left with nothing that was her own.

He could not accept that as an outcome, would not accept it. He rushed down the stairs, through the Great Hall until he reached the tunnels. Taking a torch from the wall, he found the path he knew well to Ryna’s room and was delighted to find the door already ajar for him. Despite everything that had already occurred, Daemon thought it a good sign that she had allowed him entry, though he would not mistake it for forgiveness.

There was still a heaviness about him as he quietly entered her chambers through the secret passage. He found her already seated on the edge of the bed, her elbows on her knees and her head hanging low in her hands as she waited for him. Daemon took a seat next to her, leaving some distance betweem them to show her that he would respect her space, at least for now.

“Ryna…” he spoke, letting out a long sigh. Daemon could hardly imagine how to put into words all the things he needed to say right now. How did one even begin to defend what appeared so obviously to be betrayal? “Where do I even start?” he said aloud, his mind going back to how the entire mess had unfolded. “I can tell you this much, that I did not desire that kiss,” he stated firmly. “It was wholly unbidden and unwelcome. The act of a desperate woman.”

“So what happened then? How did she come to be held in your arms?” Ryna asked with incredulity. “How did she even know you would be there?”

“I know not,” he replied with the same level of disbelief. “She said she thought she might find me there. I had been waiting for you obviously. I arrived there perhaps a touch earlier than I should have in my eagerness to see you alone. Your sister looked a mess, as though she’d risen from bed and carelessly thrown a dress and cloak on. In all truth, I thought something was wrong with her at first glance.”

Ryna looked at him intently, the apathy draining slowly from her eyes as she listened to his story. “Go on,” she encouraged him to continue.

“I told her she should be back in bed sleeping, but she insisted that she could not sleep. That was when she became quite bold, and I warned her to leave before she did something she would regret.”

He sighed with exasperation, hating that he must repeat such a horrible thing to this sweet girl who already felt a severe amount of insecurity at her place in life. He would protect her from any uncessary pain if at all possible, but not too much lest she think him lying to her.

“I do not know what to make of what followed after. I might actually wonder if Rhaenyra is far crueler than any of us might have imagined or that she has gone mad,” his tone was resigned, hoping that she would actually believe him.

“Why? What did she do next?” there was a hint of curiosity in Ryna’s eyes. Was it too naive of him to hope that her inquisitiveness meant she might trust him more now?

“I hate to tell you this, sweetling, for you will not be glad to hear it,” Daemon looked at her with a sadness in his expression. “I do not wish to be the one who tears you and your sister apart.”

“It is a little too late for that, is it not?” Ryna said raising her eyebrows expectantly.

Daemon’s jaw tightened with the regret that she was correct in her assertion. He knew she would never look at Rhaenyra the same again after what happened that night and his side of the events would most definitely make it worse.

“Do not hate me for telling you this, riñitsos,” he spoke with a softer tone now, trying to lessen the blow. “She came on to me, obviously. She said she would give me whatever I wished if I would forsake you, and I refused. I was furious with her for insulting you so.”

“Then why were you so close to her? Why was she kissing you when I came upon you both?” Ryna looked hurt still, but it was different now. Her features brightening as she tried to put the pieces together, attempting to clear Daemon of any wrong-doing.

He shook his head, trying to remember the flash of insanity that had happened in such a brief span of time. “She was all over me and it was all I could do but to hold her back from me. When she would not accept my answer. She demanded that I was hers. That she would not allow you and I to wed.”

Daemon could not help but to scoff at the thought of it. A part of him still couldn’t believe how deranged Rhaenyra had sounded.

“Of course then I got even more incensed and meant to intimidate her when I grabbed her by the arms, to get her to give up the foolish notion that I would somehow leave you in favor of her. And that is when she reached up and kissed me.”

“I see,” Ryna let out a long winded sigh as she looked forward once more, resting her hands on her thighs as she sat more upright.

There was a long silence before Daemon finally broke it. “Sweetling,” he reached out and touched the back of her hand, dwarfing it with his much larger palm. “I know this is not easy, but I really do need you to believe me when I say this.” He leaned in carefully grasping her chin so she would look at him. “You are the one I want, dear girl.”

Her pale eyes shimmered as emotion began to overtake her and he took the opportunity to move close to her side, to wrap his arms around her and offer some comfort. “It saddens me that you don’t see how beautiful you are. How you’re so sweet and caring, yet still you possess a fiery tempest within. It’s you I’ve wanted all these years, even when it felt like a crime to acknowledge such feelings. It felt wrong to want someone so pure, but now that I’ve come to know what an incredible woman you are, I can not bear the idea of being without you. That anyone else might have you. I have never felt this way about anyone before, riñitsos.”

He took a deep breath, letting it out as he collected himself, honing his words with a sincerity that he was not accustomed to.

“I have married in the past for convenience, even married for what I thought might be affection.. But with you, my sweet girl,” he pulled back enough to force those gorgeous, weeping eyes to look at him once more. Daemon needed her to know the depth of his emotion so that she might never doubt him again. “With you I will be marrying for love for the first time.”

Ryna buried her face in the crook of his neck, sniffling as she turned into his embrace. Daemon exhaled with a slight shudder as her wet cheeks pressed against his skin, the warmth she exuded soothing him in a way he had never known before. Her acceptance of his touch felt healing, like a balm for his soul. It was the closest anyone had ever come to pacifying the rage that lied just below the surface at any given moment.

The need to protect her was overwhelming in ways he never could have anticipated. He knew she was not a delicate flower who needed saving by any means, but he wanted to guard her from the harsh realities of life. To shelter her from the despicable relatives that saw her as a pawn in a game, or those like Rhaenyra who saw no need for her to be on the board at all. Where he had felt nothing but loyalty towards his family prior, Ryna had now become the centerpiece of his allegiance.

Daemon gently stroked her silken locks as she wept, trying to find the right way to settle her. “It is alright, sweetling,” his voice was soft and tender. “Come here,” he said pulling her small frame up onto his lap. “I’ve got you.”

He wrapped one arm around her, hugging her against his broad chest and held her tight as though she was the most precious thing to him in existence. While his free hand combed through her hair, carding through the platinum curls over and over. Daemon held her like that for what felt like ages, whispering sweet nothings in her ear and hoping it provided her some level of relief.

It was then, during those moments that a thought occurred to him. He didn’t want to wait any longer to make her his wife. Another week was simply too long a time to delay when he felt the overwhelming urge to declare his devotion to her before the old gods.

“Little dragon?” he asked suddenly, leaning back to make eye contact. “I wish to marry you.”

“What?” she asked almost confused by his words, wiping her eyes on the backs of her hands. “We will be wed soon though.”

“No,” he replied with a shake of his head, his hand coming up to caress her cheek. Daemon’s expression was serious as he held her gaze. “I mean as soon as possible. Today. Now. I can not wait a sennight to call you my wife.”

“But, how?” she looked upon him with such unsure, yet hopeful eyes. “There will be a big wedding held before the Seven, I’m sure, as is always done.”

“Yes, yes,” he said with a dismissive wave of the hand. “There can be a grand ceremony before the High Septon with all the pomp and spectacle that is customary. But I wish to give you more than that. A marriage before the old gods would solidify the bond with the most important people in attendance. Not all the lords who wish to curry favor, nor the ladies who simply wish to seen in the presence of greatness and gossip.” He paused with a smile before completing the thought. “I wish to bond with you first, rinitsos. Before anyone else.”

“Daemon,” she replied quietly, her voice almost too choked up to speak, yet she managed. “You mean a Valyrian ceremony?”

He leaned in close enough for his nose to brush her own, his eyes gazing fondly upon her. “Yes, my love. A Valyrian wedding forged with fire and blood.” The thought of it was almost too perfect, to eschew the new gods in favor of the old.

In any other case, he would have asked Viserys to do the honors, but he doubted his brother would approve before the official wedding. That didn’t leave many options, but he might be able to find one among the Dragonkeepers that could officiate. After all, he already knew the rites practically by heart from his studies and the dragon tenders were the only others well versed in Valyrian besides the some of the more studied maesters.

“Doesn’t it require frozen fire?” she asked, a look of concern in her features as though they might not be able to procure such a thing on short notice.

“Yes, sweetling, it does. And as you also might know, there are many such deposits on Dragonstone. I’ve already a dagger we might use for the ritual, so don’t concern yourself with that,” Daemon said quietly, brushing a soft kiss against her nose before withdrawing to look upon her once more.

“The only question that remains, is if you want this as well?” his words were gentle, a slight smirk teasing the edges of his lips as he peered at her.

Ryna appeared bewildered, yet touched by the idea of engaging in a private wedding reception. Her eyes were wide and thoughtful as she stared at him with a look that felt as though it were piercing through his very being. He worried for a moment that she might still harbor doubts about his loyalties, but then her face softened considerably, a warm smile forming in acceptance.

“Yes, I do want this,” she whispered, leaning in closely and pressing a tender, albeit brief kiss against his lips. “I want you to be mine and mine alone.” Her words breathed against his cheek as she nestled in tightly against him.

Daemon pulled her into his body with a deep exhale, hugging her against his chest with both arms wrapped around her slender frame. He buried his nose in her silvery locks, inhaling the sweet scent of roses from her hair. Despite everything that had happened, even through her worries, Ryna still wanted to be his.

“I am yours,” he sighed into her hair. His hand reached up to tangle in her silky ringlets as he withdrew, knowing he must make the preparations in haste lest he be forced to wait another day to be bonded to her. “I will arrange the ceremony immediately, even if I must wake some poor fools. Tomorrow night,” he said with a hungry ache to have her, “You will finally be mine.”

I wanted to make a quick note about how I chose to write Daemon in this ending scene. I'm sure some may think he is far too direct, sincere, and honest with Ryna, but after going through it in my head countless times.. I decided I feel it is in character. You have to figure, he has endured a lot by now just to have the chance to wed her and there is no way in the seven hells that he is going to let her go. I think by now, his feelings are maturing a bit too, into love and less infatuation and lust. I wouldn't say he's all the way there yet, but he can definitely realize that he doesn't want to lose her. And I'd even go as far as to say the thought would be troubling to him, almost cause a panic as it does when he's first caught. So yes, while I realize I don't have to make excuses for how I choose to write characters in my own fanfics, I still felt I wanted to make note of it. I do realize he comes off as far more emotional than normal, but I think he would be in this case.

[obizenyukii]

top 10 obizenyuki moments (+all of the honorable mentions that i almost picked bc these three are too much .) DISCLAIMER: these are my opinions and also i talk a lot. <3

under the cut bc this is so long oh my god

number 10

THIS PANEL OF THEM BEING SO AT PEACE RESTING BY EACH OTHER'S SIDE. OBI DEEP IN CONTEMPLATION AS HE WATCHES OVER SHIRAYUKI AND ZEN. THEM SLEEPING SO SOUNDLY BECAUSE THEY CAN LET DOWN THEIR GUARD AROUND HIM. I'M FINE.

every time i see this panel i just feel so happy. they belong together.

number 9

needless to say you'll miss the young miss, but you'll be lonely without me too, i bet. this entire conversation . obi saying this as a light joke but also because he knows how much they both mean to zen. obi searching, in a way, for a reassurance that he /is/ needed and wanted as well, since it's so obvious that shirayuki would be. zen's response. this is a moment that shirayuki isn't physically in so i bumped it down a few places, but it's still so meaningful for the ot3.

number 8

obi longing for zen and telling his bestie (zen's gf, who he's known for also occasionally longing for) about it casually under the stars (and saying he'll say that to zen under the stars) . i know what you are .

this moment is absolutely iconic and one of my personal favorites <3

number 7

ot3 date <3333 the entire next chapter is just a bunch of cute moments of them (honestly could have had like 300 pics on this post if there wasn't a limit). them spending time together, goofing off, having fun and enjoying each other's company. give me 10 more of these dates please.

number 6

whenever i reach out my hand, you would grasp it?

the most iconic trio of all time you will not change my mind. this moment being an unsaid promise between the three of them to always come back to each other . lay me to rest

number 5

THE FACT THAT YOU'RE NOT DASHING OVER TO HER RIGHT NOW IS ALL THE ANSWER I NEED. THE TRUST. GOD. SHE CAN HANDLE HIM. I'M ON THE GROUND.

this moment is not as talked about (at least i haven't seen much of it discussed) but it's SO important to me. so much is being said without needing to spell it out. obi and zen keeping watch from afar, content in each other's company but also making sure shirayuki is in their sight. this is so romantic to do under the stars . they make me unwell. i need a vacation

number 4

obi and shirayuki always keeping zen in their hearts no matter what, despite him wishing not to weigh on them. this also touching on zen telling obi he wishes the title he gave him won't be a burden to him. the bond they have is highlighted so beautifully here. it's pure love <3 i'm sick to my stomach. /j

(& the bonus of obi and shirayuki seeing zen off together and looking at his retreating figure fondly. this is so romantic . i'm crazy .)

number 3

the iconic whenever i'm with you two it's always like this ;^;; <3 obi's love towards these two started to take root here. you don't understand because it's love dude . you don't understand because you were never attached to someone like this. you never had a home to come back to, never had the acceptance and understanding you have in them. dumbass. (said fondly)

it's okay, he learns it later <3

number 2

zen, furiously questioning obi and shirayuki on their health, making sure they're fine, and finally pulling them into a hug. his relief to have them safe and healthy in his arms. them realizing how worried he was . this is probably the most iconic obznyk moment and is a contender for n1 for sure, it was tough choosing between the n1&n2 moments ;; . god this moment. zen's "that's the most important thing" . don't talk to me i love them

number 1

the iconic line that is also my ship tag, if it's for you and mistress, i'm willing to go anywhere </3 this moment was what solidified the ship for me when i was only an anime only (shudders) slowly getting into the fandom. the anime was enough but this entire chapter had me setting my house on fire (joke). the brainworms never stopped. the entire chapter is so crazy ot3 but this moment is my favorite and overall the message/highlight of obi's resolve & his answer to zen's questions. it also showed more than any other moment obi's love & dedication to shirayuki and zen. shirayuki isn't even in this scene but it's still my favorite ot3 moment in the manga so far <3

and now, some honorable mentions. these following moments were all contenders for top 10 bc obznyk is so good. also these are not all of the obznyk moments in the manga ofc. there are many that i couldn't find in my screenshots and tried to find skimming through the manga but failed lol. these are just some classics/faves.

zen's iconic heart eyes

pretty early on in their relationship development, zen liking seeing them together ;;

zen being so happy around obi and shirayuki ;-;

zen introducing himself as obi and shirayuki's companion <3 it's just spelled out at this point lol

zen's heart eyes pt 100, if this post didn't have a limit i would've posted so many more of these

shirayuki and zen fretting over obi and then spying on him (while obi knows and is having the time of his life stringing them along) because he was seen with a pretty lady

it's like a part of me is always by their side <3 <3 <3 this would've been n10, but it's now the official number 11 moment

shirayuki and zen putting their full trust in obi to the point of fully letting their guard down, and obi realizing that for the first time, he's wholeheartedly wanted.

zen and shirayuki being the obi detection/protection squad <3

there's so much more. i love them so much <333333

[shadowuserannie]

playing a notes game for motivation. to write my Nezha older brother to MK AU for Chinese/Lunar New Year. :D

Context; I celebrate Chinese/Lunar New Year. I want to write/kick crying out into the world my Nezha older brother to MK AU on AO3 for the occasion, which is as said. It's an AU in which Tang and Pigsy pray to the protector deity of children, after finding a random child left on the doorstep. Nezha hears the prayer and, throughout the years, finds he cannot leave MK alone and accidentally becomes something of an older brother figure.

This was previously named Accidental Brother-Sorry Babysitter-Acquisition, which when I came to my senses has now been deleted and changed to...idk actually but I can have fun with it--

anyway go check out the teasers still under that name on here. Just search #accidental brother sorry babysitter acquisition au on my blog ig?

Edit; for teaser one and teaser two

Hey so how are you doing? mentally and physically? Is there anything affecting you rn? And if you don't want to say publicly, my DMs/anon asks are open if you want to vent.

what's the weather? It's raining constantly for me here, thanks to monsoon season.

(limit to 5 notes per user)

10 notes; prologue/chapter one (Nezha first meets MK)

20 notes; chapter two (Nezha helps MK home when he gets lost)

30 notes; chapter 3 (Nezha beats up a full child trafficking ring)

40 notes; chapter 4 (Nezha starts actually babysitting and Pigsy begins the process of mental adoption)

60 notes; chapter 5 (MK starting school and the trials and tribulations and Tang signing Nezha up for a rollerskating competition.)

80 notes; chapter 6 (Wukong bugs Nezha into letting him meet the kid that he's gotten newly attached to, Nezha meets Mei and gains the heart attacks that come with it)

100 notes; chapter 7 (MK's crisis, realization he's trans, further troubles and Nezha kicking more ass as a result.)

120 notes; chapter 8 (MK and Mei and romance, and Nezha trying not to murder mandatory heterosexuality-obsessed idiots.)

140 notes; chapter 9 (MK graduates, Nezha gets guilt tripped by Red Son)

160 notes; chapter 10 (Nezha dodges canon like it's a speeding bullet, Lunar New Year slash Spider Queen slash Wukong finally doing the smart thing and telling at least one person, aka Nezha, about LBD's return.)

180 notes; chapter 11 (Nezha gets chewed out by Wukong for taking the full brunt of a self-destruct seal he made for the Samadhi Fire map himself, the reveal of godhood proper to Nezha's found family)

200 notes; chapter 12 (intermediary before diving into season 4.)

I'm not ending at season 4 beginning/end. There's more after that, I'm just physically incapable of that much cramming.

....now--

@cer-rata @crippling-pages @ohmygoly @kotlcpuppetshow @thelasttaleofthepari @telugu-girl-13 @solangelo-taylors-version @fantasygeek-134 @theaspengrove @sabrine-bree-the-bravery @emmlivia @floofeeeeee