#HEAD IN HANDS BAWLING SOBBING ON THE FLOOR

[inpolariis]

"For a time, I even thought we were friends."

[crowjodojocasahouse]

having a hard time coping with the knowledge that aziraphale has memorized the winnie the pooh books

A small thing that bugged me... why did Aziraphale have to reference a Bible? Wouldn't an angel kind of have that memorized?

I don’t think any of the angels we meet in Heaven have read the Bible, except to look through it for the bits they were mentioned in and (in Sandalphon’s case in particular) to grumble that they aren’t in there by name.

Aziraphale tends to regard the Bible fondly, but not authoritatively. Remember, he was there. 

In the book we learn that Aziraphale owns

the original scroll in the shaky hand-writing of St John the Divine of Patmos, whose ‘Revelation’ had been the all-time best seller. Aziraphale had found him a nice chap, if a bit too fond of odd mushrooms.

And it’s a verse from the Revelation that Aziraphale is checking. So that’s a no on knowing the Bible by heart.

Aziraphale has memorized the Winnie the Pooh books, several Georgette Heyer novels, and Bobo’s Modern Coin Magic, though.

[senanatheskenana]

Being Their Soul Mate <3

Tanjirou, Zenitsu, Inosuke x reader (separate)

Tanjirou Kamado

From the moment you got close enough for Tanjirou to smell, he knew you were his soul mate. And before you know it, he's sprinting towards you, following the perfect smell. He stops in front of you, blushing like a fool from head to toe.

You can feel the pull towards him, even without an introduction. Your eyes can hardly leave each other, basking in the overwhelming silence. You smile at him, your own cheeks tinted pink, holding out your hand to him. He jumps out of his daze and grips your hand enthusiastically, bringing it to his lips to place a heartfelt kiss on your knuckles.

"I'm sorry to be so forward, i really should have introduced myself before. Please forgive me!" he bows deeply- so deeply you think his head may hit the floor. You fight back a sheepish laugh, shaking your head.

"My name is Tanjirou Kamado, it's beyond a pleasure to meet you," he still holds your hand carefully, loose enough for you to pull it away should you desire to. You don't.

"I'm (f/n) (l/n). I never imagined my soul mate to be as sweet as you, Tanjirou," you can see how his face turns even redder at your words, stuttering out broken sentences.

You gently squeeze his hand, "Did you want to join me on my walk? we have a lot to talk about, I feel"

He nods eagerly, letting you pull him through the streets, all while staring bashfully at the way your hair sways as you move. He thinks he might already be in love.

Zenitsu Agatsuma

'Marry me!'

Those were the words inked into your wrist. A brash, scribbling handwriting. Admittedly you were worried about the circumstances of you meeting your soul mate, given the intense first words.

Evidently, the situation was not nearly as sad as you worried it could be. You weren't being married off, no.

Your soul mate was just super weird.

You shake your leg, hoping to remove the boy from his hold. He's sobbing on the floor, mumbling incoherent pleas at you, still shaken up from the demon he would have been attacked by, had you not struck.

"W-what the hell? You can't just spring that on someone!" you squeal. Finally, he lets go, a look of shock on his face. A moment later a shockingly warm sensation takes over the two of you. You grip your wrist, and he scratches at his shoulder, letting out yelps of 'ouchies'

You look down at your wrist to see the letters glowing gold, pulsing against your bones. Zenitsu gazes up at you momentarily before bawling and returning to clinging onto your legs. You take the time to help him up while his two friends watch in confusion and embarrassment at his actions.

He holds both of your hands and brings them to his cheeks, and you can feel how hot his face is. "Y-you're my soul mate. That means you have to marry me"

You sigh but smile. At least he was enthusiastic, you guessed.

"Maybe let's just start with a date and we can go from there" His tears disappear at your words, replaced by a gigantic smile, not even you can resist.

Inosuke Hashibira

For as long as Inosuke can remember, he's had the name (f/n) (l/n) engraved into his collarbone. Too bad he couldn't read it without Tanjirou's help.

"(f/n) (l/n)..." Tanjirou taps his chin in thought for a moment before gasping, "I got it- that's the ice pillar's name! "

Zenitsu fawns at the idea, "Wow, imagine having a soul mate strong enough to be a Hashira"

He hears the word strong and immediately puffs out his chest, "If they're strong, I'm gonna beat 'em!" Tanjirou now realises that Inosuke doesn't know the concept of Soul Mates.

By the time he tries to explain it, the boy is sprinting through the courtyard, dodging pillars and kakushi.

"Inosuke-" Tanjirou cannot finish his mortified plea.

"ICE HASHIRA COME HERE AND FIGHT ME!" everyone turns towards him in shock and confusion.

"Don't be so loud! if you really wanna see them, they're sitting on that bench" Sanemi scowls at the group of boys, making Tanjirou blanch, uttering apologies.

You're peacefully lying across the bench, nose planted firmly in your book when a shadow falls over you. Slowly you gaze up at the man towering over you before moving to sit up straight.

You recognise the boy in the checkered haori, smiling "Hello Tanjirou. It's nice to see you again. Are these your friends"

Before a smiling Tanjirou can respond, Inosuke brings his sword down beside your hand.

"FIGHT ME!" his face flushes with blood as he seethes under his mask.

You give him a serene smile, "I'm sorry but I believe it would be dangerous for you if I were to fight back."

He pays no mind and swings his sword above him. He looks down only to find you gone in the blink of an eye. In less than three seconds, his katanas are wrenched out of his hands as he is pinned to the ground.

Tanjirou gasps at the embarrassingly short battle- if you could call it such. "Inosuke! Are you both alright?"

'Inosuke?'

You glance down at the man under your foot, "Is your name Inosuke Hashibira?" you ask as calmly as ever, gently releasing him from the hold.

"Yeah, what's it to you?" he scowls under his mask. He doesn't know why he's so nervous around you but it's pissing him off.

"My name is (y/n), the ice Hashira," your smile has an unanticipated calming effect on inosuke, "it would seem we are soul mates"

he blushes at your giggle, still not understanding what a soul mate is. He looks at Tanjirou for help, who sighs.

It was going to be an agonising conversation. He drags the boar boy away, inosuke still staring at you as you wave them goodbye. He wouldn't admit that he missed you already.

[silvercloverr5]

heyyy, can i request good old enemies to lovers with so much angst but ends with fluff with sirius??? maybe they used to be friends before and Sirius just suddenly turned cold? and the reader was giving the same energy and all they do is bicker and one time the reader just burst out about how siri is being a prick and then it ends with confession?? it's very long 😭😭im sorry

Hey guys!!! Sorry I’m going through requests VERRRRY slowly atm but please feel free to leave requests in my inbox for me to get round to <3 love u all so much

Also, I included reader seeing Regulus as a little brother figure and looking after him, because I can’t not :-( sorry if it puts u off the fic!!

(CW: LOTS of angst, child abuse from walburga, sad Sirius, sad Regulus, Sirius being cold and cruel to cope with loss, basically the reader being the black brother’s best friend, ends with fluff<3)

“I used to love you.” ~S.O.B

{you were from a pure blood family, best friends with Sirius Black. You comforted him through his mother’s cruelty, and fell in love along the way. Until Sirius ran away, leaving you to protect his little brother from harm out of the love you still held. Now, when you see him in school, you give him a reciprocated glare. But why does he hate you?}

“Sirius, come here!” Came the harsh, threatening voice of Walburga Black, she sounded angry, really angry, and you watched Sirius tense, looking up from the book you were reading together. His eyes were wide, face whiter than usual, holding much more terror than a little boy should ever have to endure. You put a hand on his shoulder, warming him in this cold house. “Hey, it’s fine. Whatever happens, you can come back up to me after. I’ll take care of you.” You told him. You may have been only children at the time, but the way Sirius nodded and his silver eyes softened and glittered with tears, you knew you had a certain way with him.

Alone in Sirius’s room, you played with your hands, shoulders stiff as you listened to the mother scream ruthlessly at her son, trying not to picture the broken, guilty, vacant expression you knew would be adorning Sirius’s tear-stained face. You couldn’t hear Sirius’s responses to Walburga’s yelling, you knew he froze up when he was scared, so he’d be mumbling in response. “I DONT CARE IF YOUR FRIEND IS UPSTAIRS. YOU ARE A DISGRACE ALREADY!” She yelled. You had to cover your ears when gut-wrenching cries and wails started to echo up the stairs. Walburga was using the crucio curse on her son. Again.

~~~

Soon, the screams ceased and Sirius rushed up the stairs and into his room where you still sat. He slammed the door desperately, and crumbled to the floor beneath it, shaking like a leaf and loud sobs starting to make his small back heave. You leaped off of his bed and knelt beside him. Hesitantly, you reached out to touch his back, but he flinched away from you with a sharp, choked gasp. That was when the first crack painfully sliced its way through your heart. To see your best friend weak and bawling on the floor of his bedroom, scared of even you, was an agonising feeling. Eventually, Sirius realised you wouldn’t hurt him, and wiggled into your lap, crying quieter now. His head found its way into your neck as he cried, and you could feel his wet tears snaking down your skin.

“Sirius, I’m here.” You whispered into his disheveled black curls. At that, you felt his body weaken in your lap. Before you knew it, he was asleep ontop of you, your arms wrapped around him. He stirred, turning slightly, slipping down your body so his head lay comfortably on your chest, and your face scrunched in both pity and guilt. A puddle of thick crimson blood stuck his hair to his pale forehead. You hated yourself for not being able to stop his mother from hurting him. Watching his body rise and fall with each peaceful breath he took as he slept, you spat on your sleeve and wiped the blood away, earning a harsh twitch and broken whimper from the raven-haired boy. He deserved nothing but peace.

With Sirius draped over your body like a snow-white blanket, hair splayed over you like he’d claimed you as his own bed, the door creaked open. You tensed, holding Sirius tighter, ready to give anything to protect him if Walburga showed in the door, but instead, a small frame appeared. Regulus. “Oh, Regulus.. did the shouting scare you?” You ask softly. The boy nods. He’s the spitting image of his big brother. “Is Siri okay?” He murmurs, rubbing his eye. You nod. “C’mere.”

Regulus tucks himself into the crook of your arm, head laying on the flesh of your shoulder. With big eyes mirroring Sirius’s, he peers up at his brother. “Heard mama shouting at him. He breaked something, I think.” Regulus explains shyly. “Mh. Your mother isn’t kind to Sirius. She isn’t kind to you either.” You say, more to yourself than him. He still nods in agreement. You stroke Sirius’s hair as he shifts in his sleep. “I’ll get you both out one day. And… and me and Sirius can get married. And you can be the best man-“ you describe your fantasy to the small boy, who has a wonderful smile creasing his little face, eagerly listening to each and every detail of the life he hoped to one day live.

~~~

You were now both in hogwarts. Over the years, Sirius had become rebellious, learning to fight back to his mother, but this always resulted in the crucio curse, which resulted in him collapsing in your arms. You were, admittedly, all he had. You and his little brother, who he’d noticed following the path of his parents. He hated the fact that regulus was so obedient to their inane beliefs. He hated it. It was only you who could calm his rushing mind.

It took only one night for everything to change. You weren’t over at his house, so he was alone, and he had a particularly bad row with his mother. After using the crucio curse on the boy until his thin limbs were tangled and trembling on the ground, his jet black curls tangled and his bitten-raw lip quaking like a child’s. While he was in this state, his mother mocked him. All he wanted was to be in the safety of your arms right now. He knew that although you came from a pure-blood family, you were not evil. You were good. You were like him, but braver. Kinder.

That night, Sirius knew he couldn’t live in this house anymore. He packed a bag full of clothes, essentials, and was unable to resist taking Regulus’s old teddy bear, an old shirt of yours and a necklace that was matching with you. He tied up his dark hair and slipped on his leather jacket. He’d grown out his hair because his parents didn’t approve of it: he wore the jacket simply because his parents didn’t like the 70s-rocker look. He’d do anything to escape those sleek black suits, hair styled tidily, silver and jewels everywhere he looked. In this house, he was nothing but a decoration, so he vowed to make his appearance undesirable to his parents. But, you always thought it suited him. While he crept silently down the corridor, boots hardly making a sound on the fancy patterned carpet, he heard a creak. His heart stopped. Fuck, he thought. Its mum. I’m never getting out. Oh, god, I’m never getting out.

“Siri?”

A small voice asked. It was Regulus. Sirius spun around where he stood to see an unruly mop of black curls matching his, framing a pale, soft face that didn’t at all suit the bitter yet elegant brutality of his family. “Reg.” was all Sirius could squeak.

“…you’re leaving aren’t you?”

“…yeah.”

“Oh.”

Regulus looked at his feet. He looked back up at his older brother.

“I’ll be by myself, Sirius.”

Sirius’s jaw clenched. He fought back the tears.

“I’m sorry, Reggie. I love you.”

Regulus’s daintily perfect face crumpled. “You can’t go, Siri, I don’t-.” He swallowed. “I don’t want to be alone. Not with them.” Sirius opened his arms. His little brother crashed into them like he’d disappear if he wasn’t fast. “I’m sorry, reg. I love you, but I can’t stay.” He murmured. Regulus was now sobbing into his shoulder. Sirius felt like the worst person on earth. He needed to get to James’s house before his mother woke up. “Regulus, I have to go.” He told him, petting the back of his head. Regulus suddenly pushed his brother back. Sirius recognised this; the anger that reg was displaying. When he was the same age, when he felt vulnerable, he disguised it with anger. He still did. “F-fine. Go. I don’t need you.” Regulus spat, his glistening silver eyes betraying him. “You’re… you’re really… really mean, Sirius, you know that?” He tried to hiss, but it turned out as a cracked whimper. Sirius felt his heart shatter in his chest. Stinging tears dripped down his cheeks.

“I love you, Regulus.”

“…”

Regulus walked to his room.

~~~

Sixth year.

Sirius had decided that he couldn’t hurt you anymore. With him leaving home, being a blood traitor, he knew he’d only cause you trouble. He couldn’t bare the thought of it. Little did he know he’d be doing just that.

When break had ended, you’d gone to greet your best friend. “Sirius! I’m sorry I didn’t see you much over the holiday, god, how’s regulus? Are you-“ your shoulders clashed together as he continued walking. much to your confusion, he walked straight past you with the icy glare of his father. “…Sirius?” You tried again, catching up with him and grabbing onto his shoulder. The physical contact from the person he loved most hurt like the touch of searing iron, and he flinched away. “Fuck off! Can’t you just.. just fucking go away?” He growled. His silver eyes were a stormy grey, he hated himself more as he watched your face fall. “What..?” You breathed, looking so heartbroken. He hated himself for making you hurt as well as his little brother.

He hated himself, he hated himself, he hated himself.

Trying to soothe the ache in his chest, he rushed past you. He left you standing in the ruins of what he had torn down.

From then on, everything changed.

~~~

Sirius Black was not your best friend anymore. He was cold and unresponsive, shooting you murderous glares whenever you saw him. He’d make offensive comments at you when he came close enough to communicate with you, and it confused you immensely. What happened to the boy who came to you for comfort? Who cried in your arms and begged you to keep him safe and warm? What happened to your boy? Your best friend? Only god knows.

You didn’t even know Sirius had run away until your parents informed you that you couldn’t go around to the Black’s house anymore. This had sparked a heated argument. “What? He ran away? He didn’t tell me!” You’d exclaimed. “Yes. To the Potter’s house, we hear. Walburga has burned his picture off of the tapestry, and-“

“Wait, what? I can’t go round anymore? What about Regulus?”

“No. Walburga doesn’t allow guests to see her children anymore.”

“What? No, no, no, I need to see Reg. come on, Dad, he needs me!”

Long story short, your argument was to no avail. You couldn’t see Regulus. You couldn’t protect him from his parent’s wrath like you had his brother. Alike Sirius, you spent some of your nights lying awake thinking about Regulus, alone and cold in that hellish house, and most of your night thinking about Sirius, and what you did to make him despise you so.

Soon enough, You and Regulus had fixed your relationship, and many nights you’d find yourself singing the youngest Black brother to sleep. You could comfort him from within the walls of hogwarts where his mother couldn’t hurt him. Even when Sirius hated you, you cared for his brother like he was your own.

~~~

At first, you’d tried to coax Sirius into talking to you. You’d stood with tight lips while he insulted you, and listened to his hateful, meaningless rants. You noticed how his friends, James, Peter and Remus, stopped egging him on when it came to you, and started nudging him or trying to distract him, as if he’d say something he’d regret. But you’d come to think that Sirius black was remorseless.

You weren’t sure why he’d switched up on you, become so mean. You did, however, decide that you would be just as harsh right back to him. You knew you could never bring yourself to hate him. He owned your heart, whether you liked it or not. You learned to hate that you couldn’t help that.

It had soon been a year. One torturous year of finding your spells book torn to shreds, looking at dark eyes that you once knew so well only to see an unrecognisable boy. The smirk that once brought warmth to your chest now opened a bottomless pit in your stomach. With each day, you ached more and more. So did he. Sirius loathed himself indescribably. He knew that if he told you, even after the torture he’d subjected you to, you’d kiss his forehead like old times and tell him it was okay. Tell him that he was good, and he’d never be like his parents, and that you were there for him. You were an amazing person, and he was horrible. But he couldn’t drop his facade now.

You were just trying to study when a voice you’d come to find agitating and grating permeated the silence of the library. “Ooh, little blood supremacist… what you studying? Dare I say dark magic?” Rolling your eyes, you slammed the textbook shut. “shut up, Black. You came from quite the same roots.” “Maybe: but I was brave enough to get out. I was good enough to get out.” He retorted with a grimace. Looking up to meet his cold gaze, you noted that his creased white shirt was unbuttoned, his crimson and gold tie hanging loose over his shoulders, only curls pinned up carelessly with his wand. A dangerous hairstyle, for sure.

“Would you give it a break? I was the reason you didn’t go crazy in that house.”

“I did go crazy in that house.”

“Yeah, I can fucking tell.” You said with a scoff. He pulled away your notebook. “So, have you got the dark mark yet? Godric knows you’ll be ecstatic-“ “why are you such a dick, Sirius?!” You yell hoarsely, jumping to your feet. His eyebrows furrowed at your outburst. Slightly, his eyes softened at the sight of your glassy ones, brimming with unshed tears. He said nothing, lips parted. “You’re.. you’re a fucking prick. I never did anything to you.” Turning away to hide your face which had turned pink as it did when you were about to cry, You started upstairs to your dormitory.

~~~

knock, knock, knock.

Someone rapped on your dorm’s door.

Knock, knock, knock, knock. Knock, knock. Knock.

Someone was incredibly impatient. You used the palm of your hand to dry your eyes slightly and sniffled. “What? Who is it?” You croaked. A voice answered, “please can I come in?” You frowned. This time, it was a voice you knew. You recognised it, broken and weak, pained, yet honey-smooth all the same. That was your Sirius. Your heart hurt again knowing you’d never have him back, not fully. You fully believed this was another of his cruel pranks.

“Come in.” You mumbled.

As Sirius muttered your name, you felt you were transported back to your childhood. When you’d play and read together. Laugh and smile. “What do you want, Black.” When you said that, his lip twitched, face scrunching slightly. He looked as if the words physically pained him. With that expression painted on his face, he looked just like he did as a child. Except now, his hair was longer, his face more angular, more beautiful. “Don’t call me that. Please.” He begged, voice cracking with emotion. You looked up at him with a waning expression of anger. “Why not? You have been awful to me, I will call you what I choose.” You say. He whimpers pitifully.

He shuts the door behind him. You hear him mumble something. “What did you say, Black?”

“I’m in love with you.”

Your body is tense. Everything is silent. You have one question.

“Why were you so angry with me when you left?”

He hesitated, before answering as raw and truthful as he can. “Because I was stupid. I knew nothing but that I loved you. And I hated myself, and I couldn’t hurt you any further.”

“What? Hurt me? Hurt me how?”

“I burdened you all those years, with my weeping and pathetic pleas for comfort after my mother hurt me. When I could only feel safe shrouded in your warmth. I needed you. And I need you now. I’ve loved you since the moment I met you.”

Nothing felt real. You reached a hand out, and Sirius lowered himself so that his cheek rested in your palm. It was cold.

“You’re cold.” You stated blankly.

“I’m fine.” He protested.

You pulled him into your bed. Seconds later, you stretched out your arms. With a sob of relief, Sirius fell into your embrace. He cried silently into your neck for a while, reminiscent of the time you helped him as a kid, except this time you were both much bigger. You pet his hair affectionately, a tear sliding from your eye. “I missed you so much. I’m so, so in love with you. You don’t even need to love me back. I just… need this.” He said, voice muffled as he presses his face into your shoulder.

“…I never stopped loving you.” You admit, pulling him in closer.

~~~

You both spoke through the night, smiling and laughing and talking, telling secrets and jokes and all of the inbetween. He was so beautiful in the dim light of the lamp in your dorm. He was so beautiful anywhere. “You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, sounding lovesick and dazed. You laughed softly. “You don’t even know how beautiful you are. But that doesn’t matter to me.” You kiss his forehead, before pulling back and looking deep into his eyes. “You are good.” He practically melts into you.

Sirius falls asleep safe in the crook of your arm, and you fall asleep with one arm under him and the other around his waist, with the peace of mind that you can protect him always, now. Your boy. Your Siri.

You looked down at him, running your fingers through the roots of his hair. He moans lowly in satisfaction, practically purring as he presses himself against you. “Now we can get married: with Reggie as the best man, just like we dreamed. With a pretty house and a four-poster bed.” You said, a sweet, hopeful smile gracing your lips.

“Mmmh.” Sirius groaned sleepily. “As long as we can christen that bed.” He added, eyes still closed, with that stupid Sirius Black smirk on his face. You scoff, hugging him closer, before falling asleep yourself.

~~~

(Please don’t copy or share any of my writing anywhere else!!)

[just-an-anon-reader]

The Forgotten Sister

Chapter I - III

Pairing: Ekko x Fem!Reader

Tags: Minimal use of Y/N, no specific description of the reader, friends to lovers, CW swearing, CW blood, CW injury, CW violence, CW guns, TW death

A/N: I might have gotten carried away with how long this got…

Chapter II

"I missed you too..."

Feeling your sobs begin to calm and your eyes begin to puff from all the tears that cascaded down your cheeks, you gingerly take a small step back without entirely leaving your sister's embrace. Just enough to finally get a proper look at the face that changed with time. Vi was undoubtedly no longer the girl you remember looking up to as a child. The soft roundness of her cheeks that came with childhood was now replaced by sharp, hard lines with scars in places that weren't there before. And yet, despite the changes brought about by years apart, Vi looked... young. Like she hadn't lived with the chaos that covered Zaun like a blanket. Like she hadn't seen the death and destruction that followed as Silco flooded the Lanes with his damn shimmer.

"Where have you been all these years?" you ask, voice still trembling with emotion as your thumb traces over the tattoo on her cheekbone.

"I was... I was in Stillwater... But that doesn't matter! All that matters is that I'm here now." Vi says, head tilting lovingly into your touch.

"You were in Stillwater? All this time? Why?! H-how did you get out?"

"... someone... got me out,"

"It's the enforcer, isn't it?" Ekko says suddenly.

Having stood quietly from the side and letting you two sisters have your moment, a reunion long since overdue. Having watched with a soft chuckle as you bawled your eyes out and wet snot dripped down your chin. But now he stood with his stance firm and stiff. Arms crossed against his chest as the steel mask of a leader clicked into place on his handsome face.

"...an enforcer?" You gasp, involuntarily stepping away from your sister's embrace.

Your body physically recoiled from Vi, like her touch shimmered itself. Vi whispers your name, hurt flashing across her face at your visceral reaction.

But she didn't understand. She didn't know. The blood that painted your hands red and the disgusting sticky feeling that came with it from all the people who bled at your doorstep. People whose lives you so desperately tried to save as they lay dying. Beaten half to death by fucking enforcers. Some of them were sanctioned by Piltover, while others were greedy fuckers with pockets heavy with Silco's coin. And they said fissure folk were the shitty ones.

She doesn't know...

You tried to reason with yourself. But feelings of disgust and betrayal filled you faster than you could stop them. You take another step back, moving in line with Ekko. Gone was the love, replaced by suspicion and mistrust. The man beside you bumps his shoulder against yours, pulling your attention. You look at each other in silent conversation. He tilts his head in a gesture to somewhere, yet nowhere in particular. The movement you follow with a flick of your eyes, immediately knowing the message behind it. An understanding passed between you two confirmed with a nod.

"There's something we gotta show you," Ekko says to Vi before moving to lead the way.

You hobble after him silently, your cane thumping against the wooden floor, ignoring the confusion splayed on Vi's face. Seeing that none of you two were planning to explain anything further, she rushes to follow after. Opting to lag a bit ways behind. Taking in the view around her. A view so different than what you'd usually expect from Zaun. The sun bathed the base with a beautiful, bright glow. Its warmth touching the skin of her cheek as it peaked through the leaves. Children laughed and played, chasing after one another beneath the shade of firelight leaves. People walked and talked about, free from worry and strife. It was beautiful. Amazing what the group has accomplished in seven years. A small hidden reprieve from the chaos of the Lanes.

At the last set of stairs down the tree, steeper and more uneven than the rest, Ekko offers his elbow to you like clockwork. Carefully, you clamber down the steep stairs. Hand gripping tightly onto Ekko's forearm as your weak knee wobbled with every step. Vi rushes to hold onto you, hand about to reach for your other arm, when Ekko stops her with a chuckle.

"She'll smack you if you do that. And besides," he says, eyes looking towards you. Lovingly... longingly. A gaze much unbeknownst to you as you grunted at the feel of uncomfortable pressure straining against your knee at each step.

"She's doing great,"

"Damn right. My knee won't get stronger being babied," you hiss, taking another shaky step down onto the floor.

Finally...

You breathe a sigh of relief at the feeling of solid ground beneath your feet that doesn't quake or buckle at the slightest tremble of your knee.

Ekko really needs to fix these last few steps...

They wobbled too much for your liking. And they creaked in weird places that always made you antsy. Yep, he definitely needs to fix these. The man in question has stopped beside you, arm still outstretched, waiting as you find your bearings.

"You alright?" He whispers.

"Yeah, thank you for being such an excellent handrail." You whisper teasingly, giving his arm a playful pinch before letting go.

Ekko chuckles, shaking his head as he trudges forward a few paces before stopping. You follow, hobbling to a stop beside him. Eyes forward, looking at the slab of wall that makes up a part of the tree. A mural. A place of homage. A reminder of what you've all had to sacrifice.

"This is everyone that we've lost..." Ekko says, his voice somber as he looks at the colorful, familiar faces on the wall. Faces of loved ones, faces of lost ones... lost... but never forgotten.

"The price of our freedom..." you sigh.

"Some of it was enforcers... most was Silco."

Ekko wraps a pinky around yours. For comfort, you reckoned. But you weren't sure if he meant for you or for himself.

"Your sister works for him not because she has to but because she wants to."

Vi looks away. Expression torn, hurt. And your heart ached for her.

"I see you've found Jinx,"

"Her name is Powder... You're her sister! How can you call her that?"

"She hasn't been Powder in a long time, Vi,"

"So? Are you gonna ask me to leave her?! Is that what you did?!”

In a rush of fury, she lunges at you, hands grabbing onto the lapels of your coat, pulling you roughly towards her. Knuckles holding tight as you watched them turn white. Vi locked eyes with yours. A fire blazing hot behind those baby blues. But they did not burn you. Tone, cold as ice, you spit your next words, sharp like a knife. Meant to cut, meant to bleed.

"I... wasn't the one who left."

Vi breathes a heavy sigh like a fire doused with a bucket of cold water. Gently releasing you before stepping away, hiding her face behind the length of her hair. Ekko steps behind you as you stumble, steadying you. Eyes roaming over yours in worry, only calming once you gave him a nod.

You were alright...

"Look, Vi, I don't blame you for being gone. But you were gone for so long... things have changed. We, have changed,"

You step towards her, hand on her shoulder, gently squeezing it.

"Besides, we still have that... enforcer... friend of yours."

"Seems like I just keep making you mad today,"

"I remember it being... a unique talent of yours,"

Vi breathes an airy chuckle, turning to face you. Looking at you, like seeing you for the first time. You used to be so small, so frail. Someone she needed to protect. Like Powder... But now, look at you... You still limped, yes, but you stood tall. Eyes sharp, hands strong and steady. And you didn't take shit from anyone. You really grew up without her.

Turning towards Ekko, Vi says, "Her name is Caitlyn. She's after Silco. It's why she got me out in the first place. You can trust her. I promise."

You and Ekko give each other a look. Another silent conversation ensues. He nods, and you nod back.

"Alright, come on," he says before moving forward. You trailing behind him.

You both lead Vi through a tunnel-like vent in the wall, an exhaust pipe opening large enough for people to pass through. There, you find two boys, Mach and Tun, playing around. Pulling at their cheeks, making funny faces, and challenging the other to hold their laugh the longest. The same two boys who were supposed to be watching over the makeshift prison cell.

"Hey! How's our guest?" Ekko says, greeting the boys who squealed in excitement at the sight of him.

They scream his name happily as they run around him in excited circles before jumping towards you, pulling at the hem of your shirt, almost making you stumble.

"She's loud,"

"She shouts a lot,"

The two boys giggle in unison.

"Alright, you two, let's get her outta there," Ekko says, chuckling as the boys give a resounding "Yessir!".

Pulling down their masks, they race for the keys hanging on a hook beside the door. Pushing and shoving each other for it before Tun finally gets a hold of them with a triumphant "Yes!". Slotting the key into the lock, the gears turn and unlock with a click as the door swings open with a loud squeak. Inside, handcuffed to a statue in the center of the room, was a girl with a sack still tied around her head. Her identity may be hidden, but her role is betrayed by the golden edges of her uniform. Hidden by whatever she wore on top, it glinted where the light would hit. Shining despite the darkness of the room.

She grunted as she fought against her restraints, wiggling about and head snapping to the sound of something swinging open somewhere she couldn't see. To Tun's annoyance, Mach successfully grabs the keys from his hands and runs into the room, undoing the cuffs before pulling the sack off her head. Eyes blinking at the sudden glare, her hazy vision lands on the hand in front of her. A hand fully intending to help her up. The moment her eyes cleared, she slaps the offending appendage away. Mach gasps at the impact, moving away towards you and Ekko by the door. The woman's eyes follow the movement. Her sharp eyebrows pinched as her deep blue eyes narrowed, she glared at the two of you with all the anger she could muster.

"What have you done with Vi?"

... this is Caitlyn?

Also, thank you to those who thought chapter 1 was worth reading!!

@silas-222

@scarletrosesposts

[fieldofdaisiies]

Just A Little Bit of Your Heart

ship: Azriel x Reader type: angst word count: 2,4k  warnings: curse words, mentions of a one night stand, unexpected pregnancy summary: It was just a one night stand, or that is what you thought... fic masterlist

"The baby will have wings!" 

Your hands tremble. And they tremble so much the plate you are holding slips out them, and then shatters when it hits the floor. Splinters fly everywhere, but your best friend is quick to shove you away.

She is faster than you, gently shoving you away before you can lean down to collect the shards. "Not in your current state! Let me do this."

You huff. "I am pregnant, not fragile or ill," you say, still dried tears on your cheeks, and more burning behind your eyes. 

"Yes, with a winged baby, because this fool did not pay attention." There is so much fury inside of your best friend, you have never seen this side of her before, her voice drips with venom. 

"For making a baby it always needs two people. I am not innocent in this." You crouch down and help your best friend collect the shards of broken glass and—

"Fuck!" You lift your index finger to your mouth, licking the droplet of blood away. 

"I told you to let me do this, you are hurting yourself and—" "And what? They baby will still have wings and I will still be pregnant. I just cut my finger, nothing dramatic."

You swallow thickly, slumping onto the ground. You immediately regret your tone and snapping at your best friend. She only wants to help and be there for you…

But it is so much to deal with and then the hormones just intensify everything you are feeling.

The fear, the apprehension about the baby having with wings and the prospect of having to raise the child by yourself, should you survive the birth, finally reach the surface. You tried hide these emotion for so long, but now you fail — they all bubble up, overwhelming you.

You lean against the kitchen counter behind you, pulling your knees up and fold your hands over your face.

Then the damn breaks, tears running out of your eyes, rolling down your cheeks as you sob into your hands. 

"I am so scared," you bawl. 

Your best friend has already scooted over, careful of the broken pieces of porcelain, and wraps her arm around your shoulders. She pulls you to her chest, letting you cry into her shirt. "I know that the babe has wings, the healer confirmed it. And I am just working in this little shop, I don't earn enough to take care of the child alone."

Your tears wet her shirt, and your best friend holds you tightly, her hand clasping your upper arm. She is becoming your anchor, the only thing you can hold onto in this moment.

"It was so foolish. He said he took the tonic. I also drank the tea the same morning, and neither of those things worked. Conceiving for fae is so difficult, why…"

Your voice breaks and you can't finish your sentence, your throat is dry, burns and the back of your mouth aches. 

"It wasn't foolish. You were both careful, and it just happened." Your best friend's voice is softer now, although inside of her a burning fire of fury about the shadowsinger putting a baby that could harm you inside of you. It could cost you your life and she would never forgive him for that.

You exhale a long breath when you lift your head a little, still leaning onto your friend. You rest your head against her shoulder, staring at the window opposite you. 

A veil of grey is being drawn over the sky, dark clouds passing by — rain is about to start. You keep staring at the window, sitting in silence as the first raindrops start to fall, landing gently on the window pane. You watch as the rain intensifies, and the sky darkens further until heavy rain pours down and wind whips agains the windows and the walls of the apartment building you are living in. 

The atmosphere outside mirrors the whirlwind inside of you, the storm brewing there, the cold and gloomx atmosphere.

There are so many emotions. And these emotions, mostly fear and nervousness, mingle with the hormones that actually make you so very happy that your are growing a little babe inside of you, but at the dame time so sad that the child will have to grow up without a father.

The whole previous evening you spent staring at your round belly in the mirror, sobbing silently to yourself.

With the big wool sweaters you always wear the belly is barely visible, but when naked, one can obviously see the growing bump. 

You best friend draws in a deep inhale and leans her head against the top of yours. 

"You need to talk to him," she says in a soft voice. "And before you protest, I say so because first of all, he has a right to know. And secondly, and most importantly, he might be able to help you."

You sniff loudly. "How should he help me?"

"The High Lord, who he is close with, has a son with wings. And our High Lady is also only fae, so there must be a possibility."

"What if he wants nothing to do with me?"

"Then you at least tried."

"Don't you think I will only be hurt more?"

You lift your head to look at her. There is a small smile on her lips, one that conveys support and warmth, her eyes shining with empathy.

She shakes her head. "You still have me. I won't leave you alone with this. I never would. But you still have to tell him."

You don't want to do it, you don't want to face Azriel, don't want to tell him, but you know she is right. You have to do it. He has a right to know.

This was a one night stand. 

You somehow caught the male's attention in a small bar in Velaris, and somehow he ended up in your bed. When you woke up, Azriel slipped into his trousers and out of your flat within a few moments. He was gone without a word, disappeared into the shadows, and you haven't heard from him since. You don't even know how to contact him. 

You don't know where he lives? Does he live with the High Lord? Or in this huge house on the mountain? With the general of the Illyrian armies and his mate?

"I don't know what to say to him," you whisper. 

The rain outside intensifies. Your friend uncurls her arm from around your shoulder, bringing it forward so she can clasp your hand in hers. 

She places a soft kiss to the top of your head and in a calm voice she says, "Tell him what you told me. That you don't understand how it happened and that you are afraid and want nothing more than his help."

"What if I want more than that?" You bite back a sob and turn your head a little.

"What if I want a little part of his heart. For the baby. If it—if we survive this, I want my baby to have a father. I want my baby to know its father." A single tear slips our of your eye and your friend quickly wipes it away with her thumb. 

"That is something to think about in the future. You need to think about yourself now, sweetie. You matter now, everything else is open for the future."

You nod, trying to agree with her, but the thoughts about the possibility of the baby never meeting its father are gnawing on you. 

And they keep gnawing on you the whole night where you lie awake, shifting and turning, your back aching, and tears still wetting your cheeks and pillow. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Cold sweat coats your back, your palms. Your knees wobble, and your whole body trembles as you lift your hand, drawing in a deep inhale. Then another. And another. Your hand rests on the cool door handle, but you can't bring yourself to pull it down. 

He really came.

You can hardly believe it. He got your letter, and he is truly here. Until a few moments ago, you doubted it. You did not think he would really follow your invite. You were very vague in your letter, only mentioned that if he remembers you you would have something important to discuss with him. It could have been a trap, but he must have recognised the urgency in your wording, must habe known he could trust you.

Drawing in another breath, you finally pull down the handle and your lips part as your eyes land on him. 

He is…still the most beautiful male you have ever seen in your life, covered in darkness and shadows, expression stoic, eyes glowing with curiosity.

But he came!

"You came," you whisper, voice trembling.

Your heart beats in your throat, hammering so fast and hard you think it might burst right through your ribcage. 

It was just a one-night stand, a fleeting moment of passion, but you still remember him so vividly. How he touched you, how he kissed you, how he held you. And how he left. You felt used and sad after it, but you shouldn't have. Both of you only wanted fun for a night, but still it somehow hurt when he left.

"You called." His voice is flat, no emotion in it as he speaks. His face is not necessarily cold, but nonchalant, emotionless.

Azriel is nothing but darkness as he stands there, shadows swirling around him, stretching out towards you.

He eyes you closely, jaw clenched slightly.

You barely know him, only know his body, but he is now connected to you in the most profound way possible. You carry a part of him inside of you. Your child. His child. 

Azriel's face is a mask of unreadable emotions, some clouds darken his eyes and you can’t tear your eyes away from his.

"I wasn't sure you if you—" "I do remember you."

Something, some unreadable emotion passes over his face, and a muscle in his jaw ticks. His hands, those scarred hands you felt all over your body, are folded behind his back, and he stands in a stance, almost like he is ready to fight whatever is about to come. A stern warrior, and not the passionate male you lay with. 

"Come in?" you say, your voice trembling slightly as you step aside to let him enter. Azriel hesitates, but eventually he walks in, gaze wary as it sweeps through the inside of your room. He is looking for possible danger, making sure the place is safe and you can't blame him for it. Your invite must have sound cryptic, he is careful and that is alright. 

"Why did you invite me?" Azriel asks, finally speaking up and taking the weight from your shoulder to open the conversation. 

You are wringing for the right words to explain it all as you lead him over to the kitchen counter. You lean against it, your gaze moving to his eyes.

You drop your glamour, and try to hold his gaze, but suddenly Azriel starts to sniff the air, his brows furrowing as he looks around him. It almost looks like understanding dawns on him, whirlwinds of emotions glowing in his eyes. He must sense it in this moment.

"I am with child!" you blurt out. 

The words are so loud in the room, they bounce off the walls and hollow through the room. Through your mind, making you feel dizzy for a second. 

You move your hand over your round belly, smoothing out the sweater, to show him the bump. 

 The silence that follows is deafening, broken only by the sound of your own ragged breaths. 

Azriel says nothing, his face pales, his shoulders slump, and his whole expression and posture crumbles. 

He blinks, as if trying to process what you have just revealed. Although his face is unreadable, you can see the storm of emotions swirling beneath the surface. 

"Is it mine?" he asks and you want to face-palm him. You would do it, if it were under different circumstances. 

"Of course, it is yours. The babe has wings!"

The tone you have chosen wasn't alright, he could not have known, you could have been with other males…but why would you invite him and tell him then?

This revelation shatters him truly. Azriel begins to vehemently shake his head, like he can feel the weight of what the baby having wings means.

"No," he whispers, and then repeats the word over and over again. He brings a hand up, brushes his hair back and shakes his head again. "No, that can't be. You took the tonic, I did too. How did that happen?"

"I also don't have an explanation, I only know that I am with child now. A baby with wings." Your chin quivers, lower lip starting to tremble. You feel how your body begins to shake, blood rushing in your ears.

"And I am afraid." 

Once again the damn breaks, and a sob rips itself free.

Azriel says nothing, just stands there. 

"I understand that it is a lot to take in, that this is difficult, but I needed to tell you." 

You suck in a sharp breath, your tears tasting salty in your mouth. "I just thought you deserved to know. It was a one-night stand, and I never planned for any of this to happen, but it did, and I can't keep it a secret from you." 

You feel so vulnerable in this moment, your heart cracking open, everything inside you convulsing. 

It somehow angers you that he says nothing, but you had more time to deal with the newly learned information, he only found out now. Maybe he just needs more time to process. 

"I don't know what to say," he admits, his voice softer, and for the first time he lets his own emotions show, vulnerability flashing brightly in his eyes. "This is... unexpected. Overwhelming."

You nod, biting down on your lower lip. With the back of your hand you wipe away some tears. 

"I don't expect anything from you, I just…if the baby and I survive this, all I am asking for is a little bit of your heart. Not for me, for the babe."

Your voice is so terribly shaky, tears welling up in your eyes again as you try to hold his gaze. "I didn't expect it either," you whisper, wiping away a tear. "But I want the baby to know its father. If it ever comes to that."

Azriel is the one to suck in a breath now, the weight of his own childhood crashing down on him. Everything, every little pain when he was a child, bubbles up inside of him and his body starts to shake. 

The room is filled with a heavy silence once more. It feels like the walls are moving in on you, the room growing smaller and smaller, almost suffocating you.

As you wait for his response, your heart still races, but now it's not just with fear. There's a glimmer of hope, a spark of possibility that maybe, just maybe, he will grant you this wish and be a father for the child if it comes to that. 

"We are going to see my healer, the High Lord's healer. She knows about wings, she knows about babes with wings. You are not alone in this."

Azriel's steps are so fast, so unexpected, he hesitates for a moment, but suddenly his arms wrap around your shoulders and he embraces you tightly, his chin coming to a rest on top of your head. 

"I am not leaving you alone in this. It comes as a shock and I am sorry about my reaction, but this child is as much mine as it is yours, and it will have a part of my heart." His arm wraps around you tighter. "It will have my whole heart." 

He swallows, his chest heaving with a deep inhale and your curl your own arms around him, loud sobs ripping themselves free, muffled in the fabric of his shirt. "And so will you."

~~~~~~~~~~ tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii@nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @callmeblaire

[cntloup]

After almost four months of working for Simon, you take a maternity leave... and your feelings for him start to bubble up

Simon bumps into you, a troubled woman whose boyfriend kicked her out after he found out she's pregnant

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

He holds you, gently rubbing your back as your stomach heaves and you throw up your lunch. You're in your third trimester and it’s been hell for you. 

You sob onto his chest while clinging to him, from the agonizing pain in your abdomen and the unbearable nausea. 

“Shh, it’s ok, luvie. I've got you.” he coos, holding you tighter and cradling your head against his chest as you bawl your eyes out. 

Even though your mind is somewhat dazed, your heart still flutters at the nickname. 

In almost four months of working as his assistant, you slowly drifted closer and closer to each other.

But you still don't know if you'd call yourselves friends or not, it's something more, yet less than what you wish to be.

After a few minutes spent on the bathroom floor in his office, you finally calm down a bit. 

“I’m so sorry. I don’t think I can work like this.” you apologize sheepishly while looking up at him through glossy eyes, still in his arms. 

“That’s fine. You'll be on leave until you’re ready.” he says, looking back at you through hooded eyes. 

“Really? There's no problem with that?” 

“Yeah. It's ok. We'll get a substitute for now. The leave is with pay of course so no worries about money problems.” he responds and you throw your arms around him happily and hug him as well as you can with your swollen tummy, “Oh, Simon! Thank you so much.” 

“ ‘s nothin’.” he replies while hugging you back. 

“You can come stay with me, you know?” he mentions as he pulls away to look at you, your hair disheveled and your eyes puffy and red while sitting on the bathroom floor after throwing up for nearly half an hour, but oh how he still adores you... in this state... or in any state to be honest. 

“Are you sure?” you whisper, throat too hoarse to speak any louder. 

“I’m sure.” he replies sternly with a nod and you gaze into his eyes gratefully. 

“I’ll help you pack up.” he adds, taking your silence and the look you just gave him as a yes. 

“Thank you.” you say and try to get up, but fail miserably with your huge belly and utter exhaustion. 

He gets up first and helps you up, “Careful, luv.” he murmurs as you stumble a bit, wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you steady. 

He helps you gather your stuff and carefully walks you to his car to drop you off at his place, his hand finding your waist and the other one holding yours.

“Are you sure you’re gonna be fine alone?” he asks with concern as he pulls up into his driveway. 

“Yes, I'm gonna be fine for a few hours. In fact, I'm gonna take a nap.” you respond reassuringly with a smile. 

“Take care, luv.” he smiles and you wave goodbye. 

He leaves as you step inside the house and close the door. 

You lean against the door and let out a squeal and giggle like a schoolgirl. 

And you don’t even know why. Is it the hormones? Is it him? 

It’s been a while since he’s making you feel some type of way. 

You settle on the couch to take a nap, not wanting to take up his bed even though you know he wouldn’t mind. But still, it feels like an invasion of his privacy. 

You don’t get much sleep as your mind and heart are encompassed by him. 

You keep tossing and turning. For hours. Even though you’re utterly exhausted. 

Until he returns home and walks over to you, “Hey... why didn't you sleep on the bed?” he asks with furrowed eyebrows.

“Well, I didn’t really sleep at all.” you mumble as you try to get up, looking at him over the back of the couch.

“Why? You ok?” he asks with a concerned look etched on his face as he helps you sit up on the couch and he sits beside you. 

“I’m fine, Si. It's just that... the hormones are making me feel weird is all.” you ramble, not really knowing how to answer him, also using the nickname which he insisted on you using. It just makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

“Do you need to go to the doctor?” he questions further, worry creeping up on him. 

“No. It's fine. I'll take some pills and try to get some sleep. Don't worry.” you try to play it cool and shrug it off.

He gently carries you to bed and brings your meds, sitting on the edge of the bed and handing them to you with a glass of water. 

“Get some rest, luv. I'll make you something to eat.” he mutters while tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear as you lie down, eyes locked onto one another, making your heart skip a beat.

You let out a sigh and shut your eyes after he leaves, in hopes of getting even a little bit of much-needed sleep.

[hattiewritesalot]

am i allowed to cry?

Eris Vanserra x fem!reader

Summary: After a particularly harsh punishment from his father, Eris is left choking on his own emotions, and the guilt that comes with them. Pain is weakness, until it comes to his mate, Y/N. Set before the events of ACOTAR

Warnings: parental abuse, mentions of Beron 🤢, lots of angst, lots of hurt/comfort. unedited lol

A/N: I’ve had this idea in my head for ages and I figured I should finally write it (title is from guilty as sin by Taylor Swift)

———————————————————————————

Eris’ shaking hand clutches at the cloak he’s wrapped around his aching form, stumbling and limping back to his chamber, desperate to get somewhere private before, Cauldron forbid, any of his brothers see him.

The lashes on his back sting with the force of a thousand needles, the prickly pain curling around his spine and puncturing his muscles.

They’ve never hurt like this before. Maybe he’s getting weak.

Eris Vanserra would rather die than be known as weak, but right now? With gory gashes up his back? With bitter tears pooling at his lashlines? With a broken heart to match the shattered fragments of his childhood? He’s nothing but weak.

Weak. Weak. Weak.

He’s a dishonour to his family, to his court, to his people- to his mate. His precious mate, with her soft hair and sweet smile. She’s always been too good for him. His father himself had uttered it under his breath the moment he’d introduced Y/N to his family.

He hopes she isn’t in their chambers.

He hopes she’ll never see this weakness that has possessed him.

He shoves the heavy door open, eyes darting around the vacant room. Thank the Mother, Y/N must still be on her evening trip to the library. He moves quickly, tossing the bloodstained cloak on the floor, and turning towards the mirror.

The pale skin of his back is torn, the crimson of his blood coating just about every inch of it, covering the splashes of freckles and old scars.

Eris can’t control the tears that start to trickle down his cheeks.

This is dreadful. Not the gashes, those he’s used to. But the tears. He’s not allowed to cry. When did he become so weak!? When did he let himself become so susceptible to the raging emotions that have taken hold of his soul? When did-

“There you are, I was wondering when you’d be back-“ Y/N walks out of the bathroom, a bright smile on her face, but she’s too quick for him to hide.

Her face falls. She sees the blood. She sees the wounds. She sees the tears.

She sees the weakness.

Eris can’t speak. The only thing that comes out of his mouth is a loud sob.

Weak. Weak. Weak.

But then, her gentle voice fills his ears, and her hands cradle his face, lips kissing away the tears on his cheeks. “You’re okay.” She murmurs. “You’re gonna be okay, honey. I’ve got you.” He sobs harder. She fetches a cloth, hastily soaking it with cold water, and starts to swipe at the blood on his back, letting him bawl into the crook of her neck like a baby. “I’ve got you. Let it out, Eris. You’re allowed to cry.” No, he’s not. He’s weak. Weak, weak, weak-

“You’re so strong, baby.” She whispers.

…what?

“You’re so strong, so brave. You’ve been holding this in for so long.” She kisses his hair, continuing to gently wipe the blood away. “My strong mate, I love you so much.”

“No-“ He chokes out. “No. I’m weak.”

“Why do you think you’re weak, Er?”

He frowns. Isn’t it obvious? “I’m crying.”

“You just got beaten by your father. I’d be surprised if you weren’t crying.”

“But still, I shouldn’t be crying. I shouldn’t be weak.”

“I cry. Do you think I’m weak?”

He gapes at her. “N-no-“

“Exactly. Case closed. You’re not weak either.”

He’s silent for the next ten minutes while she treats his wounds. He watches her pretty face, pondering what he did to be so lucky to be her mate.

When she’s done, she pulls him down on the bed with her, positioning him to lie on his stomach between her legs. She twists his red hair in her fingers. “So strong.” She repeats. And the heir to the Autumn Court says nothing, nuzzling his nose into his mate’s neck. If she thinks he’s strong, then by the Cauldron, he supposes he is.

———————————————————————————

i am an eris vanserra stan first and then a person

[vampcubus]

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : nsfw, sub!yandere!izuku, dom!fem!reader, kinda mean reader, izuku being delusional & obsessive, spitting, oral (f!receiving), not proofread.

I wanna bully Yandere Izuku just a bit, just to watch him crumple at the slightest crumb of attention. Because let’s face it, Izuku doesn’t care if you’re being nice to him. He wants you to perceive him, to acknowledge him as something tangible — something worth your time. And if you spend that time pulling on his chubby cheeks and hooking your fingers in his mouth to spit into it, who is he to try and stop you?

If he can’t be with you, he can at least be entertaining for you. If you say all he’s good for is to spread his legs and fuck himself on his fingers while you watch, who is he to disagree? All that processes in his fuzzy little head is that he’s good for something.

It’s just fun at first, teasing your pathetic little stalker to see him trip over himself. You didn’t mean for it to go this far, but you can’t deny that the creep has grown on you. After all, who else would get on their knees and worship the ground you walk on while being treated like a pet? Not many, which makes Izuku a special case that you just can’t get enough of.

Your conscience is telling you to get outta there, that playing with someone’s feelings that was so clearly ill for you was a bad idea. You can imagine the fit he’d throw if you proposed such an idea, actually quite vividly because he’s throwing it right now.

“What do you mean we shouldn’t see each other anymore? I thought things were going so well!” He sobs into your thigh, his arms and legs clinging to your leg like a child. Your hands hover just above his head awkwardly, unsure if you should really be comforting him right then. “You can’t break up with me now!”

“Break up? We were never even a thing. There’s nothing to break up. I let you follow me around and we had a bit of fun, but really this is getting out of control. I mean, I’m using you, you know?”

Izuku doesn’t seem to be hearing you though, too caught up in his own delusions. You had expected him to take it poorly, but this was worse than you thought.

“You weren’t concerned about using me before. Why are you abandoning me all of a sudden? I just wanna make you happy!” The man bawls, and you’re ashamed by how the pathetic look on his face excites you.

He was pretty, even when he cried.

“Don’t you see that whatever fantasy world you live in isn’t real? I told you from the beginning that a relationship between us was impossible.”

“But you keep coming back to me. That means I’m useful to you, right? I’ve been so good for you. I’ve stopped following you around as much and I’ve been taking less of your stuff like you asked me to! I’ve done everything you asked without question, you can’t throw me away now!” Izuku’s fingers twist in your shirt, and he uses it as leverage to drag himself up from the floor.

“Izuku,” you sigh, more protestations resting on the tip of your tongue, but he beats you to the punch.

“Let me prove to you how much you need me. That no one can make you feel as good as I can, can submit to you like I can.” He sinks to his knees before you, like he’s done countless times before, his shaking hands pulling your skirt up so he can mouth at your cunt through the cotton of your panties.

Your knees buckle at the contact, your hand rushing down to hold the back of his head despite yourself. You can only sigh and let him lap at you, letting him tug your panties down your legs to suckle at your oversensitive pussy properly.

You have to admit that he’s gotten much better at this. You can vividly remember the first time you let him go down on you, teaching him how to eat you out the way you liked it. And you can tell now that he’d memorized every word, every moan of approval and scrap of praise you’ve thrown his way because he knows just where you need his slick tongue to tease.

Izuku still moans excitedly into your pussy after all this time, as if the act itself was pleasurable for him too. Not knowing that he dreamed of it years before you met officially, or how he fucked his fist until his cock was raw at the thought of tasting you. He savors every swipe of his pink tongue over you abundant slick like it’s the last time he’ll ever get to, and with a hitch of his breath, tears spring to his eyes when he realizes that it might be.

If he didn’t do a good job you’d leave him.

[ediewentmissing]

angst and comfort :(

You jolt up from Eddie’s bed in a cold sweat. You feel gross. Your hands are clammy and your face is wet with tears. As you drift into proper consciousness, visions from your nightmare flicker through your mind; Eddie slowly levitating up and into the air while you’re frantically searching for his favourite mixtape, bawling your eyes out as his bones snap one by one and his body topples in a heap on the hardwood floor.

You start to crying again, sniffling and hiccuping. You go to recite music in your mind, lyrics one by one. Music is your main coping strategy, so this time when it can’t calm you down, you go to your only other source - your best source - of happiness: Eddie. 
The problem was that Eddie just came home from a nine hour shift at the automotive, and he was exhausted. He went to bed almost immediately, throwing himself onto the sofa and drifting goff within minutes.

You didn’t want to wake him up.

You sobbed in bed for a while longer, slowly weighing the pros and cons of interrupting his well-deserved sleep.

Eventually, you told yourself, Fuck it, and got out of the blankets.

The springs groaned underneath you as you got up. It was only then that you realised how torn up you really were. The night air hit your body and you could feel the grogginess floating away, being replaced by sheer cold. You nervously shuffled your way to the living room, shivering a bit.

Eddie’s body lay peacefully on the sofa, sloppily covered by the worn-out blanket on top of him that you offered him before he retired for the night.

You stood nearby, watching his chest rise and fall and listening to his slightly heavy breathing. Although gazing at him was pleasantly calming at first, it soon brought back vivid flashes of the nightmare; screaming, shaking Eddie vigorously, trying desperately to get him to wake up, his empty eye sockets and bleeding face staring back at you. The thoughts make you choke down a sob and Eddie stirs.

“E-Eddie?” You hesitate, but finally being yourself to speak up. He stirs again. “Eddie?”

He hums in response, not recognising the anxiousness in your voice because he’s still half-asleep. You walk up to him, trembling from the cold and from fear and tap his head lightly. You sniffle and he opens his eyes to find you looking terrified. He blinks a couple times to get himself to awaken completely.

He sits up and beings you in for a hug, as you shed tears against his shirt, “Hey, hey, hey. Sh. It’s okay. ‘M here. I’ve gotcha, sweetheart.”

You sit down with him and bury your head deep in his chest, wanting to be held and wanting to feel his heart beat to confirm that he was well and truly alive.

He holds your head and runs his calloused fingers through your hair, scratching your scalp lightly with one hand and holding your lower back with the other. His body is warm. It’s like hugging a teddy bear. It feels perfect against your icy flesh.

He waits until you’ve settled down, your breathing was still hitching regularly, but the sobbing had stopped. He pulls you away from his chest so he can see your face, dotting kisses on your forehead and rubbing your arm.

“What happened?”

“Nightmare…” You pause, “again.” He pulls you in again and rests his chin on your head.

“S-Sorry.” You splutter, guilt suddenly striking you.

“No, no. Don’t be. Not your fault in the slightest.” His voice vibrates against you soothingly.

“Uh,” You look down, separating yourself from him, “Could you come and sleep with me in the bed?” And his big, comforting smile told you everything you needed to know.

[sea-lanterns]

Ohh, interesting Navia headcannon. She’s a little baby, the older courtesans would just look at her sweating and pacing, look at each other, and be like😬… STOP THE NURSES WOULD LOOK AT NAVIA,

Nurse: “Are you the other mother?”

Navia: “Huh? No- She is, *points at other totally chill looking courtesan*”

NOT THE NURSES GETTING CONCERNED FOR NAVIA EVEN THO THE EMPRESS IS THE ONE IN LABOR 😭

AND SHES NOT EVEN THE MOTHER.

This is so cute and hilarious at the same time. Just all the courtesans watching as Navia bawls her eyes out on behalf of the Empress, squeezing her hands to let her know she’s there, while Navia is on the verge of passing out from the stress.

The nurses are so worried for Navia that when they ask if she’s the other mother, Navia just sobs and shakes her head no, pointing to the actual mother of the baby being born, and it’s Courtesan Yelan who’s calm and gently patting the head of the Empress like this wasn’t the biggest day of her life.

The contrast between Courtesan Yelan and Navia is so funny. Yelan is chill because she knows you are tough and she’s there to be your rock, while Navia is a blonde puddle on the floor because she probably passed out when she saw the head—

I love my wife.

[calcifermovesthecastle]

Sharing a Moment

Tooth Rotting Sanji Fluff. Hurt/Comfort. Whole Cake Island spoilers if you squint.

2460 ish words

Warnings: Panic attacks, mentions of past trauma, mentions of burns, mentions of Slavery.

This is actually an excerpt from my self insert one piece google doc, but I turned it into a reader insert. Character is afab, uses she/her pronouns, and is described with breasts. I do not shy away from "controversial" topics and do not censor any of my work. this does not mean that I condone or agree with the things that I write about.

This is what I do instead of therapy lmao.

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Sharp, uneven breaths pierce through the silence that surrounds you on the island. Your transponder snail sleeps peacefully on the ground, your hands trembling too violently to pick it up. 

Your head swims, and each new breath you take is shorter and sharper than the last. You squeeze your eyes shut tight, scrambling backwards on the forest floor. 

"I'm gonna find you, bitch!" The words aren't real, but they echo in your head nonetheless. You press your back up against the large tree you're under, clawing at the collar of your shirt around your neck. The night seems to close further in on you. 

You weren't lost. Not at first. You started out on the beach, picking through shrubs and bushes to resupply Chopper with some fresh herbs and plants. The rest of the crew's voices had faded away, dispersing in their own searches, leaving you alone in yours. The deeper you got into the woods, the darker it got, and the more anxious you felt. The more your mind began to race. 

Suddenly, you weren't a straw hat anymore. Suddenly, just like that, the shackles tightened around your neck and wrists, and your master calls after you, screaming all of the horrible things he'd do to you once you were found. 

Your transponder snail continues to snooze on the ground in front of you, a mocking reminder that you can call for help at any time, if you could just get out of your own head. 

"When I find you, I'm gonna gut you like an animal! You'll fucking wish you were dead when I'm done with you!" 

Oh, how you wish you would breathe quieter. Your head throbs and your vision swims, the lack of air and the blood pounding in your ears making you lightheaded. At this point, passing out seems like a blessing. 

"Do you want your hands set on fire again?! Or would you rather I stick them in boiling oil?" 

"No!" You manage to gasp out. You claw more at your shirt collar, ripping the fabric apart down past your breasts. A heavy, loud sob bursts past your lips, and all you can hear is your own rapid heart beat. 

Then, clear as a bell, you hear someone say your name. 

Your eyes fly open, chest heaving as you look around for the source, and stare up at Sanji, who's rounded the tree and is staring at you with eyes just as wide. Your voice gets caught in your throat, but your body almost buckles in relief. 

You cant seem to calm yourself down, though, and your throat constricts again, the ghost of that awful collar tightening around you. You pull your torn shirt even further away from you, your hands trembling so violently you have to grasp at it multiple times. 

Sanji crouches in front of you, shrugging his blazer off, not breaking eye contact once. 

"Sweetheart, would you like to go back to the ship?" 

You nod, bawling loudly. Sanji nods, never breaking his eye contact with you. He looks at you as if you'll run from him at any second.

"Okay, I'll take you home. I need you to calm down first, okay?" 

"I cant-" You choke out, taking another short, sharp breath in.

"Okay, I'll help you." 

Ever so gently, Sanji reaches out and pulls you close, resting his chin on top of your head. He takes your hands in his and squeezes, taking slow, steady breaths that you're supposed to mirror. It takes a few tries, but finally, your breathing returns to normal and your head stops swimming. Though you're still shaking, you're back to reality, and you know that you're okay. 

"Are you ready?" 

You had no idea Sanji's voice could sound so tender. Your lower lip trembles as you nod, and he gently pulls you to your feet, draping his blazer over your shoulders. 

When he pulls his hands away, you reach out to him, your voice breaking. 

"Don't go away." 

That's funny, you meant to say "Don't let go." Sanji's eyes widen briefly, but they soften just as quick, and he wraps his arm around your shoulders as soon as he's picked up your transponder snail and put it in the blazers pocket.

"I'm not going anywhere, Sweetheart," He says quietly. "I've got you." 

Slowly, he guides you through the woods back to the Sunny. You lean heavy on him, gripping the fabric of his blazer in your hands as tightly as you can to feel grounded. 

"Please don't tell the others," you whisper. Your eyes swim with more tears as shame blooms through your whole body. Sanji squeezes you firmly. 

"I wont. If they ask, I'll just say you got lost and called me to come get you." 

"Thank you," You rest your head against the side of his chest, listening to his heart beat. 

Another wave of relief floods your body when you finally land eyes on the Sunny. Sanji helps you up the first few rungs of the ladder, then starts climbing up after you. Once on board, you follow him to the kitchen, sitting at the table. 

He doesn't ask why, doesn't prod more information out of you, he just sets a warm mug of tea in front of you, ruffles your hair, and gets started on dinner. 

The warm lighting in the kitchen helps to soothe your frayed nerves, so you sip on the tea, mindfully taking slow, deep breaths. Sanji's company proves to be very grounding as well, so while he cooks, you slip your burn gloves off and stare at your hands.

Chopper has done a phenomenal job repairing some of the scarring. He's also helped you gain a ton of function back. But the flesh is still mangled badly, and the nerve damage is majorly irreparable. You can grasp and hold things, but your fine motor skills are gone. There's no getting that back. You open and close your fingers, grateful for the movement you have gained back. 

But the damage is still there. The pain of it is seared into the back of your mind forever. you frown, lost in thought. 

"Your tea is getting cold, d'you want me to heat it back up for you?" 

You jump, looking at Sanji with wide eyes. His eyes go from your face to your hands, and you can see his brow furrow behind his hair. He puffs on his cigarette and sits down next to you, reaching out and grasping them before you can pull away. 

Since they've been burned, nobody has touched your bare hands. You've always kept the gloves or bandages on, for fear that it would hurt too much otherwise, or trigger a bad reaction in you. 

But Sanji's hands don't do either. They feel cool, and the pressure is comforting. You stare wide eyed down at where your hands are, your heart stuttering in my chest. 

"You have beautiful hands," He says quietly. Your eyes fly to his face, but he doesn't look at you, he just studies your hands, turning them over in his own. 

"Don't lie," You whisper. It's barely audible, but he shakes his head. 

"I'm not lying. They really are beautiful." He says it with such conviction it makes your heart clench. 

"Look at you, you're fucking worthless, you pig bitch. You can't even serve me right with those fucked up hands of yours. Clean this fucking mess up and get the fuck out of my room so I dont have to look at how disgusting your hands look." 

"The scars on them don't mar the way they look," He continues. "They're quite striking." 

He sits and admires them for a few more minutes, and you stare at him, your eyes as wide as dinner plates, your face flushed red. 

You can feel butterflies in your stomach as he runs his thumb along one of the longer scars, humming. When he looks up at up at up at you, he smiles. 

"I guess I just never noticed." 

"Nobody," You whisper, for fear that your voice may break again. "Has ever said anything so kind about my hands." 

Sanji tilts his head, puffing on his cigarette. When he speaks again, his tone is tender. 

"Sweetheart, you should stop worrying so much. Nobody is ever going to hurt us again. Not like this." 

He squeezes your hands, ruffles your hair again, and gets up to check on dinner. 

Us?

Wait. Us?

"Sanji, what do you-" 

"Did you want me to reheat your tea?" He asks, as if he didn't hear you. You blink, glancing down at your cup. 

"Uh, sure. That would be really nice." 

Humming, he reheats your tea for you, then pulls some vegetables out. You put your gloves back on and pull his blazer tighter around your body. 

"Sanji?" 

"Hm? What is it?" 

"Could I have a cigarette?" 

He turns his head towards you, frowning. He sees how tense you are, how shaky your breath still is, and closes his eyes. 

"Just this once. These things are bad for you, you know." 

"I know," You smile slightly. He jerks his chin up once. 

"They're in the left pocket in my jacket. Just one, ya hear?" 

You heed his words, thanking him when he lights it for you. The first few puffs you take are followed by very harsh, loud coughs, but the next few burn less in your throat and lungs. It's a nice distraction. 

The rest of the crew still isn't back by the time you finish the cigarette, but you're not ready to be by yourself just yet, so you stay in the kitchen with Sanji. You finish your tea, and eat the food he puts in front of you, and when they're still not back after you've finished eating, you rest your chin in your hands and watch as Sanji continues to work in the warm yellow glow. By the time Luffy bursts in demanding dinner, you've fallen asleep at the table. 

"Hm? What's she doing here?" He asks, prodding at you gently. Sanji smacks his hand away, shooing him out of the room. 

"She got lost and called me to find her on the transponder snail. You get out and go sit in the lounge with everyone else for your dinner. She already ate." 

Luffy looks at you, frowning slightly, but concedes to letting you sleep for now. He bounds out of the room, yelling for everyone to go to the lounge so they can eat. 

You jerk awake sometime later, the shadow of a nightmare fading from your mind, leaving in its wake a sense of uneasiness and the deep seated need to not be alone. 

There is no light coming from the porthole, but the swaying of the ship tells you that we're back to sea. You stand up, steadying yourself with the table, and exit the kitchen. 

You hold Sanji's jacket tightly around you, climbing the ladder up to the crows nest. The smell of smoke tells you that that's where you'll find Sanji. 

Sure enough, he's standing with elbows resting on the ledge of the crow's nest as he stares out at open water, tapping his cigarette against the ashtray perched next to him. You walk straight over to him and wrap your arms around him from behind. 

He doesn't say anything, but turns slightly so he can wrap one of his arms around you. You press your ear against his chest, searching for his heartbeat. When you find it, you close your eyes and focus on it. 

For a while, the only noise is your breathing, his heartbeat, and the sounds the ocean makes. You're grateful for how expertly Sanji seems to handle you when you're at this low point, how he seems to know exactly what you need. How instead of fawning over you, he stays collected and steady and oh so kind and tender. You tighten your hold on him, closing your eyes. 

"I'm sorry," You murmur.

"What for?" He responds, just as quiet. You breathe out, tears welling up in your eyes. 

"Being such a fucking mess." Your voice breaks, and a quiet whimper escapes your throat for what feels like the umpteenth time tonight. "Sanji, everything came flooding back. I'm not strong enough to pretend I'm okay, and I don't know how I'm going to hide it from everyone. I don't want to be a mess. I don't want my past to control me but it does. Just when I think I've got a good handle on it, something triggers it, and I don't know what to do to stop myself from shutting down. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." 

His hand reaches up to stroke your hair as you cry, and after a while he pulls away from you, squeezing an arm in each hand and crouching to your eye level. 

"Sweetheart, you cant change what happened to you. And it's still so recent for you that of course you're going to have days where it's harder for you to feel normal. You're going to have days where it feels like it's all a dream, and you're still stuck in those shackles. I saw you, that first day. Remember?" 

You nod, weeping openly. 

"You may not think so, but you are doing so much better than you were. He cant hurt you anymore. Say it." 

"H-he can't hurt me anymore." 

"Again." 

"H-he can't hurt me anymore." 

"That's right. He can't. But it's going to take time, right? You can know that there is nothing he can do to get to you. You can know that you're free. But it's going to take time for you to believe it. That's part of healing. So don't be sorry for your bad days. We understand, more than you could ever know."

Something distant clouds Sanji's eye, but it's gone before it takes form. Weakly, you reach your arms out to him, asking for a hug. He pulls you close, careful not to hold you too tight. 

"He can't hurt me anymore," You blubber. You feel him nod. 

"That's right." 

"I'm safe." 

"That's right." 

"I'm free." 

"You're free, love." Sanji tightens his grip on you for a moment, exhaling. "Would you like to lie down in bed?"

"Mhmm" You sniff. Truthfully, you'd rather stay awake with him as long as possible, but your body is so tired that you know there's no fighting the sleep that's coming. "But please don't leave me all alone up here." 

"I'm not going anywhere," Sanji says. A sharp wind blows by, causing both of you to tense. You shrug his jacket off, holding it out to him. 

"Since I'll be under the covers," You say hoarsely, "I suppose you could have your jacket back." 

He laughs, taking it and putting it back on. "I'm honored."

You smile back, getting cozy in bed. Sanji watches you, turning back around when your head finally hits the pillow. It's not long until you're out, your soft snores falling on his ears while he watches the night sky.

[fawninthesnow]

"𝐀 𝐆𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧" : One Shot: Request

𐙚 General Maximus x Fem! Reader 𐙚 18+

Summary: You are a Queen of a recently conquered land. General Maximus Decimus Meridius of Rome pays you a visit in your castle.

Warnings/contains: male dom (kinda), sub fem, humiliation, degradation, alcohol consumption, oral (male reciv!), constriction, physical restraints, mentions of war/blood, not proof read-- english is not my first language!

Word Count: 2.5k

More on my Master list! + follow & reblog pls

His men pushed open the grand doors to the Castle, and with the loud stomps of triumph, you mourned from your throne. Your head rests in your fingertips as Latin chatter filled the halls of your home. Tears stained your cheeks as your servants quietly sobbed around you. In the next room, your court discussed their grievances and some quickly left in their carriages with their own belongings, abandoning the kingdom.

Although you could hear the voices of over a hundred men in the halls, the squelches of mud from your ruined lands beneath their shoes—only one man entered the throne hall. He shut the doors behind him and removed the helmet from his head; he placed it on a wooden table beside a vase of wilted flowers.

“What is your name?” You raised a blade, your vision too blurry to make out his features. He placed his weapon on the table as well and walked closer to your throne.

“General Maximus Decimus…Meridius of Rome.”

Your body felt weak from sitting here all these hours. “You speak…my tongue.” He nodded before facing the ground. A sob left your mouth as he bowed his head. “M- my husband!” You screamed as you imagined the blood on his arms and down his neck. “The sons of my kingdom! Do not bow before me after slaughtering my own flesh!” Your bosom heaved as you stood from your throne. Your nails absentmindedly grabbed your gown, and a servant quickly ran to you, holding it up as you stepped to the man. You pushed him from you with the tip of your sword against his steel breastplate. “Leave! I want you and your men to leave!”

He continued to bow his head, “Your majesty…I cannot do that.”

“What more can you take?! You selfish, blood-thirsty romans! Murderous bastards!” You spat as he remained quiet, almost meditative. “Speak!”

“Your majesty, I have no doubts that your reign was-“

“Is! I will not surrender to the hand of the romans.”

The man pushed away the sword you so strongly held. Your skin is soft, however, the veins pushing towards the surface of your skin with adrenaline along your hands, and neck. “I mourn with you.” You laughed with disgust.

“I could kill you.” You muttered to yourself. “I COULD KILL YOU!” You screamed at him; your vocal cords strained already. “You could never…you-“ Your body collapsed from exhaustion onto the ivory floors of your throne room.

The man quickly raised you from the ground, his eyes wide with shock. “Is she ok?!” He asked the servants. The group of women shook with terror—

“S- this happens sometimes.” A petite woman said from behind the Queen’s throne. “She…she will wake soon.”

He looked around before pulling you up into his arms. Your unconscious head leaned over one of his arms, your hair came undone as he adjusted you in his arms. “Well, she needs a bed.” The servants perked up and two of them led Maximus to the royal chambers. The servants nervously avoided the roman men in the halls of the castle. The General laid you down in your bed. He frowned at the pillows stained with tears.  He bowed his head and whispered a prayer. Your bare feet played with the sheets in bed and your fists bawled; Your eyes were shut closed, rather tensely.

“She wants you out.” A servant spoke up. “You and your men.”

Maximus nodded. He would never want a man who killed him to be in the same room as his wife. He was more than conflicted; he had a message to give you, and it was only for your ears.

Night came and his men camped outside of the castle, and he waited on a chair outside of your room. His fingers interlaced over his fur cloak. He knew you had just woken from rest since the sound of your scratchy and mournful voice echoed through the chambers behind him. The man cleared his throat and stood in front of the closed door. He knocked upon the door a few times.

“Who is knocking on my door?” You asked a servant. They quickly opened the bedroom door.

“General Maximus, My Queen.” You rolled your eyes and sat across from your husband’s portrait. “Should I let him?”

“Yes, Marnie.” The maid dismissed herself and let the general into your chambers. He stepped closer to you.

“Your majesty.” He bowed.

You looked away from him at the flames, your nails stabbing at the pads of your fingers. “I understand your frustration with me. However, I hope you can allow me to share the news I have.”

“I already know what you have to say.”

He walked around your chair and kneeled before you. “Then you will not mind if I speak.” You said nothing and looked past him at the painting of your deceased lover. “I have been made to round the rest of your army up and take them with me to the outskirts of Rome. My emperor will allow you to keep your kingdom and people you so choose to stay here. However, there will be a tax on your lands for as long as you rule.” You raised your hand to him and slapped his face. He shut his eyes and swallowed his spit bitterly. You sobbed, holding a handkerchief to your eyes. “I am sorry for your loss. I am sure your husband was-“

“I do not care about my husband! He was a horrible man!” Maximus’ eyebrows scrunched in confusion, “You! Your men have left me to do this on my own!” You shook your head, “I cannot do this on my own! The king is dead, so the *kingdom* is dead.” Bitterly, the words left your lips.

He kneeled on both knees and searched your expression. “No one taught you how to rule? You are the Queen.” You shook your head and went back to bed. “Your majesty.” He sighed and followed you.

“I want to be alone.”

“You cannot abandon your kingdom.” You spoke softly as you held your forehead.

“And what do you know of ruling a kingdom?” He only stared at your unwavering expression. A near laugh on your lips. “What do you know of relying on a man to create change? Unable to do a thing.”

“Actually, I know much of that.”

You smiled and raised from your pillow. “Then you should leave me and my kingdom because I will not pay a single pound to you or your dammed Empire. Why strip me of my army? You and your emperor both know that we do not stand a chance against Rome again!”

“Why should I give you back your army?” He chuckled. “You must understand how ineffective that would be. Strategy-wise.”

“Do you have such a small world scope that you truly believe it is Rome and whatever county you choose to ruin that lies on Earth’s surface?” You scoffed as the man leaned against the wall of your bedroom. “Well, do you?”

“I am aware that the world is vast. Much is to be seen.”

“And conquered?”

“Not everything.” He pulled his fur cloak off and threw it over the back of a chair. “Some places are meant to have other rulers, customs and traditions.” The man added.

“Do you mind pouring me a drink?” You pointed to the drink cart beside him. He didn’t mind, so he poured you a glass of brown liquor and passed the glass to you. You sipped on the drink as you sat up in bed. “Do you always find yourself in the royal quarters of the conquered?”

“Is it often you scream at and point your blade at your conquer?”

You rolled your eyes with disgust and made your way to the blazing fireplace. With a poker, you stabbed the wood and shifted the embers around before looking over your shoulder, “Give me my army back, Maximus.”

“I cannot do that.” He folded his arms and approached your fire.

“I need my army. Every kingdom needs one or else I will be taken by another nearby kingdom. Then what?” He moved hair from over your shoulder and to your back. “You will have to come back and do this all over again.”

“I would not mind doing so.”

You faced him, looking over his expression. “I do not want to see your face again.” You threw back the rest of your drink and he poured more into your glass.

“I find that hard to believe.” You chuckled in his face. The scent of alcohol on your breath. “May I have a drink?”

“What? Your day has been hard?” You laughed louder before frowning, “No. But one thing is for certain. You are not leaving until my men are freed.” He sighed and sat in one of the chairs around the lounging space. “I am not a patient woman, General.”

“I can see that.”

“Will you give me what I need?”

He looked around the room. Over your personal belongings and keepsakes. Paintings and handmade furniture. “You claimed I took everything from you but you have so much here. You are spoiled.”

“Spoiled?!” You threw the remainder of your drink at his face. He grabbed your forearm and pulled you to the ground beneath his feet. You winced although he had not squeezed too tightly. “Bastard!”

“Your majesty, I can assure you: I am no bastard.” He looked down at you. Your round eyes were filled with rage, a pout on your lips. “I am a man of my word. I do not know much but I can tell when I am confronted with stupidity.” He let go of your forearm and held your hair in his fist, pulling your head downward so you could look up at him.

“I hate you.”

“I can understand why.” He spoke down to you. “But you will not get your way. I know this is uncommon for you but everything in this castle is now property of Rome. You are simply borrowing.”

You reached for his face, your long nails aimed for his nose and eyes. The man quickly grabbed your arm and squeezed it before pulling your hair tighter. “A- ah!” You sat between his knees as he looked over you. Although your mind was set on hating him, his rough hold on you was arousing. The warmth of his skin on yours, the closeness of his body made you feel cornered and uncomfortably hot. “I am the Queen of Greater Corsica! Unhand me!”

“You need to calm yourself.” The way he spoke made you feel pathetic and rather helpless. You did not want him to let you go but--- “You are stupid to think I would give you your army. If other attack, so be it. If it happens, the Gods did so.”

“May the Gods damn all of Rome.”

He laughed as you tried to reach for a dagger by his side. He pulled you closer to him and held your neck between his thighs. He did not squeeze hard enough to hurt you but to hold you still. You dropped your hand and shut your eyes; your drunken thoughts attempted to piece together a plan to pull from him. “Will you leave me alone about this army thing?” No. You did not want to! You wanted to stay in his warm thighs!

“No!”

“Stubborn. A brat. What else?” The man let of your wrist finally and kept a grip on your hair. The bundle of braids in his fist as he leaned back in the chair. You pushed open his thighs and freed your neck. He shut his thighs again and pulled you closer. “Rather stupid.” For a reason you could not explain, you bit your lip. He squinted at you, “You are…definitely not a Roman woman.”

You were unsure if that were a compliment or not so instead, you stayed in his grip. He opened his thighs and spread his legs. You flared your nostrils at him after he gripped your throat in his strong grip. Your eyes fell to his crotch repeatedly before they shut closed.

“Are you feeling well?” He asked, bringing you closer to him. “You do not look well.” He remarked as you stared up at him; rather dazed and, although the timing was horrible, horny.

“Do not speak to me.”

“Do not speak to you?! Ahh, but your Majesty, that will be hard due to your gaze. I am not made of…what do your people like? Chocolate!” You did not want to show any emotions, but it was too difficult! “Are you confused? Would you like to suck my cock?”

“I hate you.”

“That is not what I asked. Do you need me to repeat myself?” Your breasts heaved against his thigh as he pulled your hair once more. “You and I both know you could have stood up minutes ago.”

“…”

“Get up. Go on.” You shook your head and closed your eyes. He moved his cock from under his clothes. “Open your eyes.” His thick cock curved slightly towards his body; your eyes traced the veins up and down his shaft; precum slipped down from his pink tip to his mid length.

You pressed the flat of your tongue against his cock and drew up. You didn’t know what you were doing or why, but you could not stop. Again, your tongue drew up his twitching cock until you reached the tip. The General groaned, using your hair to control where your head went. He pushed your head lower on his cock, making you choke as he filled your throat. “Look up at me.” You gagged, staring up at him. Your eyes filled with tears as he pushed you lower.

Your saliva coated his cock, and you continued to suck his shaft. Bubbles from your spit covered the base of his dick and popped around your lips. You raise your head to catch your breath and lay your cheek on his thigh. He grabbed your cheeks and squeezed your face. “Finish what you started.” You sighed, your sights on his dick. He tapped his shaft against your lips, and you raise on your knees and hands.

He moans softly as you swirl your tongue, the grip in your hair getting a little bit tighter. His free hand comes up to his mouth, his teeth sinking into his knuckles to muffle his low moans. "Gods you are…so damn…good." He manages to breathe out.

You noticed how his thighs spread more, and he moved to the edge of the seat. He gripped your hair with two hands, pushing your head up and down in assistance. Maximus shut his eyes and listened to the sounds of you gagging and choking on his length. You closed your lips around his cock when you felt him cum in your throat. You kept your head down as he continued to coat the inside of your mouth with lapping ropes of cum.

Maximus pulled you from his cock covered in bubbles of saliva and his own mess. His hands held onto your face; his palms wiped away the sweat from your forehead.

More on my Master list! + follow & reblog pls

Dividers from @saradika

Thank you for reading!! Love you! <3 I'm finally showing a face in my cover photo????? This is big news lol he's just really handsome!

[petermaximoffsgirl]

unexpected

summary – you tell peter that you are pregnant. 

content – angst, fluff; pregnancy, swearing

words – 1.9k

your hand trembled as you stared at the pregnancy test, the two lines indicating the reality which you now had to face. tears filled your eyes and quickly began to drip down your cheeks. how could you be pregnant? you thought you had been careful. 

what were you going to do? you had given some thought to having a family, but not nearly enough where this was a welcome surprise. it was supposed to be a fantasy for your future, not today’s struggle. a sob tore itself out of you as more tears began to stream down your cheeks. you cried on the bathroom floor until your head hurt and you could scarcely breathe, terrified of everything you didn’t know. 

could you even keep it? you didn’t know how to take care of a baby. besides, it was hardly plausible for you to continue to be part of the x-men if you had an infant on your arm, and babies certainly took up a lot of time and money, neither of which you were particularly loaded with. all of this was a mess and you hadn’t even considered peter’s reaction yet. 

oh god. peter. what was he going to say? you knew that his relationship with his father was, to say the least, complicated. what if he was angry? or worse, what if he didn’t want to be a father? how were you supposed to tell him? 

a rush of cool air hit your face as the bathroom door opened. “hey, cutie. wanna go to the mall? we could hit the arcade.” you tried to wipe away your tears before he could notice them, but peter, as always, was faster. “woah, who spit in your slushie?” 

you shook your head quickly. “it’s nothing.” the last thing you needed was for your reaction to freak him out and make things worse. 

you tried to subtly reach for the pregnancy test, but peter snatched it before you could get your hands on it. “is this what’s bothering you? this stupid piece of plastic?” he glanced at it, then went still. his dark eyes were wide as they darted between you and the test. “holy shit. is this what i think it is? did i–are you–when was the last time we…ya know?” his hands were shaking slightly as he made a gesture, the meaning of which was quite clear. “are you knocked up?” 

you could feel your lower lip trembling as you fought to rein in more tears. “i–” 

and then he was gone. you burst into tears again, crumpling into a ball as you put your head in your hands. he wasn’t going to leave you, was he? you knew that he was always hesitant to make commitments, and you understood where his fears of rejection and abandonment were coming from, but now you were terrified that he would panic and try to do you a favor by not being involved. was he really afraid that you wouldn’t want him around? you needed him! he could be so endearingly stupid sometimes. you stayed there on the floor, wishing more than anything that he would just come back to you. you let yourself sob until your stomach hurt and your eyes were swollen, but at least you were cried out. 

now, you had to figure things out. slowly, you got to your feet, trudging over to the sink to wash your face. when you were done, you looked slightly better. it was horribly obvious that you had been crying, but it was less apparent that you had been bawling your eyes out. you slowly left the bathroom, heading to your room. 

when you opened the door, you were surprised to find that your room was already occupied. peter looked up at you from your bed, his eyes red and his hair a complete mess. he was at your side in an instant, closing the door behind you and quickly pulling you into his arms. 

for a moment, you froze, unable to comprehend what was happening. then, you began to cry again, trembling in peter’s embrace. you were still so scared, but less so this time. there was something comforting about falling apart with someone else, even though part of you was still so terrified that you couldn’t think straight. 

eventually, he pulled back slightly. your heart clenched when you took in his tear-stained face and terrified eyes, and a sorrowful look flickered across his face as he gently wiped your tears away. “you’re too beautiful to cry because of what some stupid loser like me did,” he said, the corners of his mouth threatening to twitch into a smile. he hesitated, then coughed slightly. “would you mind…sitting down? please? there’s…something i need to say.” 

you nodded slowly, moving to sit on your bed. you grasped a pillow and pulled it against your chest, your heart pounding. “okay, peter,” you said quietly. 

peter bounced on the balls of his feet before you, running a hand through his tousled hair. “so, i fucked up,” he blurted. “i kind of freaked and bolted, which was totally not cool. i swear i wasn’t running away, just tryin’a to clear my head. i would never, ever do that to you, despite what might be seen as recent evidence to the contrary. i’ll shoot ya straight, babe: that was a news curveball. not at all what i was expecting to hear. not that i’m mad,” he added hastily. “i don’t think it’s possible for me to be mad at you. unless you steal my twinkies.” when you didn’t smile, he grimaced. “sorry. i guess what i’m trying to say is that i shouldn’t have reacted like that. i didn’t even ask if you were okay or what. it’s just…my first thought was that i’m fucking terrified. what if i’m a shit dad? i didn’t exactly have a role model,” he said flatly. “it’s not an excuse, and i’m not asking you for pity or forgiveness or anything. i just wanted to explain why i zipped off. i…i needed ten seconds to think. and i wanted to say i’m sorry,” he said quietly. “you don’t deserve any of this. not having to find out on your own, not me ditching you, and certainly not having to do all of this yourself. i get it if you don’t want me as your baby daddy, seeing as i’m a klepto freak with abandonment issues and a fear of rejection who also happens to be scared of commitment, but i want to try if you want to because…because i still love you,” he finished. 

for a long moment, you stayed silent, processing his words. then, you swallowed hard. “running away because you were scared wasn’t exactly reassuring, peter.” 

he winced. “i know. i’m sorry. i panicked and worried about myself instead of thinking about you. i wasn’t trying to run away, and i technically didn’t, since i just ran laps around the property for fifteen minutes, but it still wasn’t a great moment for me.” 

you cracked a thin smile. “well, i probably should’ve told you instead of having you find out because i was bawling on the floor. i kind of freaked out.” 

“don’t blame yourself for me fucking up. you can spin it any way you want, but me dashing off was still wrong,” he said, and his sincerity made a warm feeling erupt in your chest. “i was supposed to comfort you and help you and tell you it was going to be okay, and i went and made it worse instead.” 

you bit your lip. “i mean, i could use some of that comfort right about now,” you said, half-joking and half-serious. 

he was seated next to you in the blink of an eye, pulling you into his arms and gently kissing the top of your head. “it’ll be okay. we’ll figure it out. i won’t leave you. unless you want me to,” he added quickly, “in which case, i can leave whenever you want. like i said, i get it if you don’t want someone like me around our–shit! i mean, shoot! proving my own point here–your baby, i totally get it, i wouldn’t want me around either–” 

his self-depreciating rambling was as endearing as it was saddening. you cut him off with a shake of your head. “give yourself more credit, peter.” you pressed your lips to his own, butterflies erupting in your stomach as he tensed before carefully kissing you back, his hands gently cupping your face. you had always enjoyed kissing peter, but something was different this time. it was sweeter than usual, so soft and tender that your head spun. 

when you tried to pull back for air, peter followed your lips and stole another few seconds before tearing himself away from you. he seemed as close to breathless as it was possible for him to be, and you smiled at the sight of his disheveled hair, soft eyes, and swollen lips. he swallowed hard, then grinned nervously. “just checking here, but does this mean you don’t want me to get lost?” 

you rolled your eyes, smiling. “you’re stuck with us, peter maximoff.” 

his eyes widened. “oh shi–shoot, there’s literally a person inside of you. ’s gonna take some getting used to.” 

you laughed and reached for his hand. “i’m sorry for freaking out on you, and i’m sorry because i was afraid that you wouldn’t want this and were going to leave me. i need you because i love you,” you said quietly. 

he smiled thinly. “you know i would never ditch you, right?” you nodded quickly. he kissed your forehead and squeezed your hand. “i’m not going anywhere. i swear. and i promise we’ll work it all out. it’ll be okay.” he grinned. “and i think you get a pass for freaking out. i’m a lot to put up with. besides, aren’t you going to cry all the time now or something?” 

your eyes widened for a moment before you burst out laughing. “you might be an idiot, but you’re my idiot,” you said, smiling once your laughter had subsided. “and i’ll put up with you any day of the week.” he kissed you again, soft and loving and unbelievably perfect. 

when he pulled back, he hesitated for half a second, then carefully held up his hand. “can–i mean, do you mind if i–like, can i touch your stomach? fuc–fudge, that sounded so much better in my head.” 

you laughed and gently brought his warm hand to your lower stomach. “not much to see yet,” you said, a lovely feeling blooming in your chest as you realized that you were finally excited. 

peter smiled and pressed a kiss to your temple. “i love you. both of you.” 

you leaned against him, finally calm. “i love you, too.” you smiled as he put an arm around you. “you’re going to be a great dad. i’ve seen you with your sisters. you’re so careful, so sweet…” 

you didn’t need to see his face to know that he was beaming. “thanks, babe.” 

you stayed like that for several minutes before you glanced up at him, suddenly struck by an idea. “do you think it’ll be a boy or a girl?” 

he grinned, then winced. “is now a good time to mention that it’s kind of a maximoff thing to have twins?” 

[hyperfix-wip]

Next to You

Pairing: Hobie Brown x GN!Reader/ Spider-Punk x GN!Reader

Word count: 1.3k

Author's Note: I am not sorry @the-kr8tor , @yumeaoka-chan , @pleaktale. And @rexlroze , YOU have specifically kickstarted the Loser!Hobie rabbit hole, and I have now got myself into loving these losers lmao. I'd like to thank @pinksugarscrub for beta reading for me and helping me out with this piece! Also, this piece contains some spoilers for Arcane Season 2, so don't read it if you don't want to be spoiled!

Tags: Lovestruck!Hobie, Loser!R, Nerd!R, Fluff, Spoilers for Arcane Season 2, Some Explicit Language

Hobie knew what he signed up for when he asked you out.

Despite your typically quiet personality, he knew you were passionate at heart. He knew that when he jumped through the portal to your universe and landed on your bed, only to see you bawling your eyes out over an animated show before you screamed bloody murder from his sudden arrival and fell down on the floor. He knew that when he looked around your room and saw all the posters of different shows and artists covering your walls, all your favorite books and figurines lined up on your shelves, the sketchbooks filled with all of your favorite characters in your specific art style. He knew that when his eyes landed on your pajama bottoms with some cute bison-like mascot from a show he overheard you talk about with Miles at the Spider Society. 

Even if you were scrambling off the floor, too flustered to make any coherent words to him while struggling to pause your show, he knew he liked this new side of you he discovered. And he especially knew he he was smitten with you the moment he asked you about the show you were watching, watching your eyes instantly light up before you drag him onto the bed and restart the show for him, obliviously nestling against his side while you eagerly ran your mouth about the premise of the show.

Yeah, he knew what he signed up for when he asked you out after binging the whole series with you.

Which was why he was prepared for you bawling your eyes out and smearing clear snot on his shirt while he cradled you in his arms. He gently shushed you while the end credits quietly ran in the background, running his long nimble fingers through your hair before pressing his lips against the top of your head.

“ ’s okay, lovie,” he whispered against your skin as he peppered more tender kisses, “I know, I know…”

Hiccups and sobs wracked up your body as you buried your face into his chest, your voice muffled into the cotton fabric. “It’s– It’s not fair! They were– they were together again! The writers couldn’t even let them be together for one full day?!”

Hobie quietly pulled the fluffy duvet from the end of your bed over the two of you, wrapping you into a tight embrace within the blanket and in his arms. “I know, darling, I know…”

“It’s just– it hurts so much! The fact that Isha was the one who did that, and it just paralleled with–”

“Yes, I know, luv–”

“Like, they didn’t have make Isha’s last moments an alternate version of Powder’s attempt in Season One where Powder’s plan worked–”

“I know, sweetheart–”

“And the pastel colors during the memory sequence for Isha– fuck– she basically remembers the Undercity as this bright and fun place because of Jinx, and not only did Jinx and Vi had to relive the trauma of losing Vander through Warwick again, but Jinx had to basically watch her baby sister, her inner child, and a version of herself sacrifice herself in front of her eyes…”

A hiccup wracked up your body again before fresh tears flooded your red-rimmed eyes, and Hobie wrapped his arms tighter around you while you sobbed into his chest again. “Fuck– I can’t– I don’t think I’m gonna last for the next three episodes–”

Hobie shushed you gently again while brushing his lips along your hairline, his fingers gently scratching your scalp while his other hand reached out for the cup of water he set to the side before you played the new episode. “C’mon, sit up for me, lovie,” he whispered against your forehead before carefully shifting the both of you up against the headboard. “Don’ wan’cha ta turn int’a raisin on me…”

You could only nod with a sniffle in response, blinking away the bleary tears in your eyes and snorting the clear mucus back up your red nose, before you sat up and grabbed the plastic cup from him. The moment you took a sip, the cool water instantly flooded and alleviated your raw throat, and you slowly drained the cup until it turned up empty.

A small smile curled up on Hobie’s lips as he gingerly grabbed the cup from your hands and set it back onto your nightstand. Without another thought Hobie then grabbed the hem of his shirt and peeled it off, goosebumps instantly pricking his skin as the cold air hit it, before gently pushing the shirt against your nose.

“Blow.”

You instantly obliged and blew your nose into his shirt, and he carefully pinched your nose and rubbed the snot off before tossing it across the room and on top of the pile of your dirty laundry in your hamper.

“Kobe.”

“Still don’ know who tha’ bloke is, but sure, lovie.”

A shaky chortle slipped through your lips before Hobie pulled you back into his arms and wrapped the blanket over you two again.

“Y’know, you could've gotten up to get a napkin instead of using your shirt–”

“It is too bloody cold to get out of this bed,” Hobie snickered while tucking your head underneath his chin. “Plus my shirt was already your personal snot rag, so it didn’t make a difference.”

You rolled your eyes with a sniffle before you nuzzled against his chest, and he in turn pressed his lips against your forehead again with a slight smirk. Your television gently illuminated the both of you in the dark, and you glanced up to see the blue light glinting from his piercings and his warm, dark eyes. His face softened at the sight of you, with splotchy skin and red-rimmed eyes, and he couldn't help but find you adorable in that moment. His arms pulled away in lieu of cupping your cheeks with his hands, and he gently tilted your head up to brush his lips against yours in a brief, comforting kiss. Your lips reluctantly parted from each other, with you trying to chase his lips to steal another one in vain, before he wrapped his arms around you in another tight embrace.

“...was this season as good as you hoped it would be, lovie?”

“God, yes, it’s so fucking good.”

Hobie huffed out a small chuckle while you tangled his lanky legs with yours. “Like, I can’t wait for Act Three to come out in a few days, but I also know it’s going to hurt so much watching those last episodes and have to watch the conclusion of it…”

Hobie nodded along with a tender smile as he gazed back down, his chest warming up as you started your cute little rant again. One of his hands trailed up your back and lingered on the back of your neck, gently massaging it while you continued talking.

“Like, I know there is going to be a clusterfuck of emotional damage for me at the end of this season. We still gotta see Ekko and Heimerdinger, we gotta see what’s gonna happen next for Jinx, Vi and Caitlyn, and we also have to deal with Jayce and Viktor– oh my god, that fucking scene of Jayce aiming that fucking cannon at Viktor–”

Hobie’s smile grew softer the more he listened to you, your voice still slightly raw and hoarse from the prolonged crying and your eyes glinted with the same eager light he saw that fateful day months ago, and his chest warms up just the same, his heart just as smitten with you as before.

You instantly stopped talking the moment a weight pressed down against the top of your head, and you pushed your head up to see Hobie’s eyes closed and his lips parted with shallow breaths. Your heart fluttered at the sight of the sleeping man huddled against you, his demeanor relaxed and languid as his lips curled up into a small, boyish smile, before you carefully pulled the blanket over him and pressed a gentle peck against his lips and nestled against him to join him in his slumber.

-----

Song Recommendation of the Day courtesy of @pinksugarscrub

[leviraaaaaa]

"Can I... help you?"

He looked up at the hesitant, quiet voice, catching your eyes staring at his in the mirror in front of him. You were standing in the bathroom door behind him, unease clear in your body language.

That, for some reason, made his heart throb.

Why did you look uneasy? You were never uncomfortable, never with him.

And for the first time in all the years he's known you, Levi couldn't read your eyes. Blank since the moment Levi opened his own.

And the stubborn, stubborn part of him wanted to say, no. To tell you to leave, that he can do it by himself.

And another, softer, hidden part of himself urged him to let you. He craved you and your touch, no matter how fleeting they would be, the barest brush of fingertips against skin, he craved it. He'd take it, he'd take what he gets. He wanted it. So bad.

And despite his heart pounding warning bells in his chest, he nodded, looking up to meet your eyes again.

Self control went out the door when it was you.

"Just..." He hesitated, he'd be lying if he said it didn't sting his ego. He wished he looked better. Less pathetic.

But he gestured at his face. "The rest I can do by myself."

Levi was a mess of bandages. He had clumsily wrapped it around his damaged hand, and then attempted to do his face. But couldn't seem to do much with the state of his hand. And of course, he'd rather bleed here out to death than ask anyone for help.

You carefully stepped around the med vials lying on the floor to stand infront of him. Then, slowly, cautiously, you worked your hands. Despite the efforts, he still winced when your fingers accidentally added pressure but he remained silent, biting down on his lips at the sting his wounds caused because of the meds.

Levi tried his best to focus on the ache. It was better than focusing on you, on how damn close you were. His knees almost touched your and you had one hand placed on his shoulder, every once in a while cradling his jaw, positioning his face so you could work better.

He felt bad when you muttered out apologies. He couldn't tell you that it wasn't the meds, it was the feel of your fingers that burnt more than anything.

Straight into his heart.

"So, you're done avoiding me?" Levi asks casually, glancing at your focused, but otherwise empty expression.

"I wasn't avoiding you." You replied blankly, denying the very true accusation.

"You haven't been anywhere near me since I've woken, let alone talk to me. That's avoiding."

"I wasn't avoiding you." You were avoiding him.

"You refuse to even look at me in the eyes, kid."

"I wasn't," You repeated. "avoiding you."

"Is it the scars? Does that repluse you?"

"Captain."

One single warm teardrop skidded over your face.

His eyes met yours as you looked away, eyes widened in confusion.

"Are you.. are you crying?"

"No." You shook your head, trying your best not to be so obvious when you obviously dragged your arm over your face to wipe your eyes.

"What? Was it something I said?"

"No." You shook your head again. You felt his gaze searing through you, setting your skin on fire.

You swallowed.

Why were you here?

No, why was he here?

Why was he wrapped in bandages and his skin tainted with bruises and bloody wounds as if he didn't have enough scars to begin with? Hadn't he suffered enough?

"I thought you were dead."

You spoke finally, the barest whisper, but you felt him stiffen. You turned to look at him, fingers running carelessly over the deep scars, careful enough to not hurt him. Your fingertips turned red with his blood

His blood.

You dared not look at his damaged eye. Scared that the raw sight of his pain might just be enough for you to break.

"Well, I'm not." He said, voice bitter. "So stop bawling."

You let out a half sob-half laugh.

And then you dropped. Onto the ground, right between his legs.

Your hands found his hands, cautious fingers wrapped around his. Focusing to not touch his injured fingers.

"Captain."

He stared, wide eyes staring down at you.

But he didn't pull away.

"If I beg you," He knew before you even spoke. And you knew his answer before you even finished. "To not do this. To not go out there. To not fight. To stay here and stay alive. Would you listen to me?"

"And what?" His voice was soft. There wasn't anger, there wasn't annoyance. Just gentleness. "Let you brats go off and kill yourselves?"

You shook your head. Again. Again.

The image of him broken and bloody refused to leave you.

You can't let him die.

You won't let him die.

"I beg of you," You were desperate, on the edge. You looked down, letting go of his hands only to cover your own face as tears streamed down in full flow, blurring your vision. Another hand wrapped around your own hair.

What do you do when it was oxygen that was choking you?

You pulled your hair, hard, trying to release the nightmares.

"Stay here," You gasped, eyes wide. "Stay in with Gabi and Falco and Annie."

"I'm on my knees, begging you. Im begging you to just fucking listen to me. Just this once, step the fuck down. You don't have to keep fighting. Not this time."

Gray, gray eyes on yours.

Could he hear the crack in your voice? Did he know those were the sounds of your heart falling apart?

But you knew when you looked at him.

It was your turn to stay silent. You knew you couldn't persuade him, but you had to try.

You had to.

Your head was splitting in halves and it took everything you had to keep them together. Don't break, don't break, don't break.

But slowly, hands wrapped around yours gently pulling them away from the grip you had in your hair.

"Hey. Look at me."

You shook your head.

You wanted to look at him. You really did. You'd look at him forever if you could. Because maybe, maybe this was the last time you'd ever get to.

But you didn't want him to look at you.

"Look at me." His hand pulled your chin up, making you look at him.

Such pretty eyes.

You lost all ability to function properly.

"If I told you, all of you, to sit back, would you?" He knew the answer, just as you did.

"That's not—" You attempted to protest.

"That's the very same thing. If not us than who?"

"It doesn't have to be you."

"Damn well it has to be me. I didn't survive through all that to back off now. You know that as well as I do, so why are you being soppy?"

".... because," You were exasperated. "I don't want you to die,"

"None of us will die." He said firmly.

"You almost died."

"But I didn't die."

"You could've " you whispered. "I watched the life drain out of you with every passing second."

Had your lungs stopped working? You wondered. Why else was it so hard to breathe?

"I was soaked in your blood." You were so quiet, you could hardly hear yourself.

"I had to stich those up. I had to wrap those damn bandages. I had my fingers pressed to your pulse the whole time so I'd know you were still alive." You said, voice breaking a little more with every word and with every word you lost a part of your soul, the memories were parasites feeding on your brain and you couldn't get them out.

"I killed people." You said. "I killed comrades I grew up with, fought side by side with years. And I didn't hesitate for one second because they were a threat to you. Because they were going to hurt you. With my own damn hands, I shot then down. Hange had to physically hold me back from striking Floch and Zeke." Levi's knuckles were white, and with every word you said, his fingers only dug deeper into your own hand.

"I can't let you die, captain. I won't." You shook your head. "Not when I'm alive. You don't get to die first."

There was silence. Two hearts beating, and it sent echoes along the small bathroom, wrapping the two of you around in the sound. Breathing was a myth, you thought. And overrated. Because every soft inhale only made your lungs bleed.

"As stubborn as always, aren't you brat?" Levi finally spoke, his words were unsure, as if he wasn't quiet certain what to say. But you didn't miss the slightest way his breath hitched. He sighed, eyes downcast. "Always being such a pain in the ass."

Levi hesitated. He was never very good with words.

"..but I'm grateful for you." He said. "You piss me off, but I'm grateful for you. I hope you know that." He said slowly, locking eyes with you, hesitantly putting a hand over your head, placing an awkward pat. "I appreciate all that you've done for my sake and..all that you're prepared to do. And I appreciate your concerns. But this–" He pulled away his hand, making a frustrated gesture towards himself. "Protecting me isn't your job. I'm the captain, kid. You don't have to worry about me."

And for a few seconds you didn't say anything.

"No." You finally said, shaking your head, a sad smile tugging your lips. Typical Levi, you thought. You hadn't expected anything less. "It's always that, isn't it? It's always your duty first."

And you sighed.

"Tell me captain." You looked up. "Is that all I am to you? A soldier?"

Levi's eyes widened, mouth parting as he gaped at you.

"You're.." He swallowed, looking down at you.

Is that all you were? He thought as he looked down on you.

No.

You weren't just a soldier, never was. Not to him.

You were always something more. Something he never dared admit to himself.

"...a comrade." He blurted out. "A friend."

He shook his head. "You're someone I trust."

You only stared.

Suddenly, the bathroom door burst open, the loud noise making the two of you jolt. You snapped your head towards it to see Hange standing in the doorway with a grim expression, hands folded over their chest.

"Oi, you two." They said. "Meet us downstairs, we're holding a meeting." Their eyes fell on Levi and they frowned. "Levi," They sighed, pursing their lips at Levi's bandaged state. "I personally wish you'd just stay in bed, but I also know you wouldn't listen."

"I tried, Hange." You reply in a defeated voice.

"Yeah, thought so." They sigh.

"Tch." Levi clicked his tongue, glancing from you to Hange. "What is this? I could be half dead and I'll still be more capable than any if you." He shook his head.

Hange was about to retort something back at him, scowling and parting their mouth, but you cut them off.

"You go ahead, Hange." You said. "We'll just finish up here."

You watched as Hange left, shutting the door close.

Then you stood up slow, setting your hands on his knees to push yourself up.

"Captain." You spoke softly.

"Wherever you go, I go. I'd follow you straight to hell. Me and you. We stick together."

Then you leaned forward, planting a kiss on his brow. He went instantly rigid beneath your touch.

"If we survive, me and you.." You whispered, closing your eyes. "I'll tell you something, captain. Something I've always wanted to tell you."

You pressed your forehead against his, your hands on his shoulders. Your heart pounded, but you couldn't have cared less. You only wanted to savor the warmth of his skin against yours, this moment. This was everything.

If you were going to die within a few hours, you might as well.

"So live." You said. "You have to."

@sad-darksoul @anxious-chick