#I WILL MAKE THIS DEAD PLACE GROWS AND BLOOM

[thisisreal-really]

thinking about mobius saying "and all your gods are dead" and loki saying "i know what kind of god i need to be for you, for all of us"

[sturniolohouse]

That's Life - M.S

A.N: After the stream where Matt said he liked the name June– which has been a name on my baby list for YEARS now – I couldn't stop thinking about this scenario, so I decided to write it. Sorry if it's bad. (I'd also say they are still very young in this, maybe 23/24. But imagine any age you want, I don't really specify.) Hope you enjoy!

summary: dad!matt - a cute snippet of Matt and y/n becoming brand new parents and Chris and Nick meeting their niece for the first time. mainly fluff :')

warnings: none, really. maybe swearing and mentions of blood? (also use of y/n because apparently that is hated? idk)

word count: 2.4k

--

"Kid, hold her fucking neck." Matt panics as Chris readjusts in his seat on the couch.

"Matt shut the fuck up, I think I know how to hold my own niece." he retorts.

"No, you clearly don't you idiot."

I peer to my left, he holds her with one hand under her head and one hand under her butt, propping her in front of him on his lap. She's perfectly fine, Matt just worries.

"Look she's fine. She's with uncle Chris." Chris looks at her adoringly but Matt cautiously watches, biting his nails.

"How are you feeling?" Nick asks beside me, rubbing my shoulder as I eat my burger. I was starving and the first thing I wanted after giving birth was In and Out, so Matt made sure Nick and Chris brought it for me.

"I'm so tired but just relieved everything went okay."

It was a long labor, almost 20 hours and about an hour of pushing. I waited to the very last minute to get an epidural and Matt almost passed out once he saw what it actually was.

-

"That goes in your fucking spine?" He squeaks, his face turning pale as he nearly keels over.

I'm sat up with the anesthesiologist behind me prepping the needle. I grab Matt's forearms and bring him to stand between my legs so he's hunching in front of me before I collapse my head into his chest and groan.

"Don't fucking look at it, hold my hands." I seethe through the pain as I wait for the contraction to pass.

"I'm so sorry," He says into my ear as they stick the catheter into my spine and I stay as still as possible.

"I want In and Out after this is all over," I breath out, beginning to feel my lower half go numb.

"I'm getting you whatever you fucking want, sweetheart." He looks me dead in the eyes.

-

"It's kinda fucking nuts that she was just inside you, how the fuck did you like..." Chris speaks up looking between the baby and me. "Push her out..." He hesitates and I burst out laughing as Matt throws his arms up and shakes his head at him, stopping himself from knocking Chris' shoulder.

"Well, it wasn't easy." I wipe my tears from my eyes due to my laughter and Nick gives me my water so I don't choke on my dry ass fries.

"Women are the strongest people on the planet." Nick chimes and Matt smiles proudly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"That's fucking right. So much respect after all I witnessed." Matt rubs his eyes, seeming to be mentally reflecting the past 36 hours.

"She's so fucking cute, looks nothing like Matt." Chris comments, a small smirk growing on his face at the playful jab.

"Okay, give her back you're pissing me off." Matt quickly but gently takes her back even as Chris protests and pouts, sulking back into his chair.

"Lost your baby holding privileges," Nick points at him as Chris makes a face and sticks his tongue out, a throaty bellow echoing in the hospital room.

Nick immediately hushes him. "Can you not act like a barbarian? Fucking idiot." He scolds him.

Matt cradles her softly and my heart still melts at the sight of him holding her. It makes everything I went through so worth it. The both of them do.

-

I lay there in shock with a wailing baby placed on my chest. I look up at Matt on my left and he's got his hand over his mouth and tears brimming his eyes, staring at our baby with so much love.

My chest blooms with warmth and I look down at our daughter. Anyone else would look at her and think she was gross, being purple, covered in goop and blood, but she was quite literally breathtaking. Matt blubbers and bends down so he's more level to me.

"Oh my fucking god," he laughs through his emotion, wiping his eyes quickly and placing a hand on her blanketed back, her cries dying down.

"How the fuck did you do that? You're amazing oh my god." He rambles, kissing my sweaty hairline and I shake my head not really knowing how I did this either.

They let Matt cut the umbilical cord before taking her off me to bathe her quickly.

Matt grabs my face checking in on me. He scans all over my face,"You okay? You did so good, oh my fucking god." I nod quickly, feeling my adrenaline still rushing. It's a weird feeling to describe, but I am so happy.

"She was so tiny, did you see her?" I ask him, my voice a little shaky and he nods laughing, tears still shining in his eyes.

"I did, I did. She's perfect. Thank you." He kisses my lips this time and then looks over to the nurses bringing her over to him.

"You want to hold her, dad?" The nurse smiles and he visibly pales but nods nonetheless and takes her into his arms.

He looks at her and begins to tear up again, having to compose himself by looking up shaking his head. When he looks back at me, I'm sent me over the edge into my own fit of tears.

I would relive this day over and over again to just see that look on his face.

-

He walks over to Nick who's still beside me, bouncing her slightly.

"Nick, cmon. You've yet to hold her." Matt nods toward Nick to take her from his arms. Nick immediately shakes his head and steps back.

"No she's too fresh and tiny. I don't want to break her." He declines.

"Chris get him the pillow. Nick, hold her. You won't break her I promise you." I give him a reassuring rub on the arm and his eyes widen.

"I'm scared," He squeals quietly as he sits down in the chair and Chris sets up the pillow in his lap. Nick covers his mouth as he watches Matt walk over to him. 

Chris puts a hand on his shoulder, "Nick it's gonna be fine." He giggles at his antics and I stifle my own laughter.

"Dude c'mon, I'm telling you to hold my kid not a bomb." Matt rolls his eyes and Nick flips him off.

Matt places her carefully so she's snug in Nick's arms and he freezes immediately.

"What do I do?" He looks up at me in fear.

"Just that. You're doing fine. See, she's perfectly content in your arms." I tell him softly and grab Matt's arm so he stands next to me.

I kiss his forearm and he looks back at me with a warm smile, wrapping his arm around me and sitting beside me on the bed. He pulls me in gently before kissing the top of my head.

"I'm trying to see any real defining features in her but she quite literally just looks like a baby," he studies her face as Chris takes photos of them.

"She definitely looks more like y/n," Matt says, rubbing my arm lightly before stealing one of my fries from my tray.

"I think she has my nose for sure. She hasn't really opened her eyes yet, maybe you can try and wake her up. The nurse should be coming soon to help me feed her."

"I just realized, what's her name?" Nick asks, lightly rubbing her cheek with the back of his finger to try and wake her.

"Yeah, have you guys finally decided?" Chris sits down next to Nick on the couch.

Matt and I look at each other. We had been debating her name since we first saw her face. Of course we had a list prepared but we didn't want to settle on a name until we could match it to her face.

It was hard agreeing on names at first as we had very different tastes but there was one that kept coming back up in conversation and once we saw her it was a no brainer.

I nudge Matt, "Go ahead, tell them." I lean my head against his shoulder.

"Her name is June," They 'aw' in unison.

"June Iris Sturniolo." Matt tells them her full name and he can't help the smile that spreads across his face. 

"I love that, such a sweet name.” Nick smiles down at her.

"Does it have a meaning? Or did you guys just like the name?" Chris pulls back her hat.

"Holy shit, she has a lot of hair." he comments.

"Explains all of my heartburn." I huff and Matt giggles beside me.

"We liked the name and we were looking at lot of nature names, month names, classic names. We landed on June a few times when going over names but didn't want to make it official until we saw her." I start and Matt nods before speaking up.

"Well, we had some music playing during the whole labor and everything but after Y/N started pushing, our playlist ended and started playing whatever. And right before June came out, the song That's Life by Frank Sinatra played. And in the song, there's a line that goes: You're riding high in April, shot down in May but I know I'm gonna change that tune when I'm back on top, back on top in June. Right when we heard that and then we saw her face, we knew that was her name." Matt concluded and I tear up.

"That's so fucking cool," 

"Stop I have chills, oh my god."

"And Iris was my grandmothers name, but we also liked how it sounded with June. It was proven really hard to find a middle name that sounded good with June and Sturniolo." I laugh.

“I love that her name has a cool story behind it that you can tell her one day.” Nick says and I get emotional thinking about telling my daughter the day of her birth.

"Hi June, you gonna wake up for us?" Chris speaks softly to her. She stays put as Nick and Chris look at her expectantly.

"I wouldn't want to open my eyes either if I were just in a a warm dark place for almost nine months and all of sudden I'm in a bright ass hospital room with a loud idiot." Matt speaks looking directly at Chris.

"She must take that after you," I say playfully and rub his chest. He rolls his eyes.

"Aw, a little Mattitude." Chris uses a baby voice, tickling her belly playfully. “Look she even makes Matt’s stank face he does when he’s mad.” He points.

“Oh my god she does,” Nick exclaims.

"Not to be weird, but you are all basically her father since you have identical DNA. Also if you guys have children one day, they'll be genetically June's half-siblings." I state my fun fact and all their faces drop.

Nick gasps, "Wait, that's actually crazy because I was just going to joke around and say 'aw she has my eye-bags'." His eyes widen and I shrug at him proving my point.

"That's so fucking weird." Matt shakes his head in realization.

Chris acts repulsed, putting a hand up. "Yeah, I don't like thinking about that. I'm no one's father, thank God." He does the sign of the cross.

"Yes. Thank God for that." Matt says shortly.

"I don't know, I think Chris will be a good dad one day." I defend him and Matt gives the side eye. 

"Thank you y/n," He says with a hand over his heart.

He walks over to me and gives me a side hug. I kiss his cheek, offering him a fry and he takes it appreciatively.

"I'm definitely staying the fun uncle." Nick states, turning his attention back to June. "One day, you'll be big enough to stay at Uncle Nick's and I'll get you anything you want without your parents knowing," he says quietly to her but we can all still hear him.

She begins to stir in his arms and he freezes again.

"Oh no, she's waking up. Is she gonna cry?" he panics. "Matt quick, take her."

"She might want the boob," he says taking June out of Nick's hold.

She begins to fuss and squirm but Matt calmly shushes her and begins to bounce lightly.

"It's her feeding time in 15 minutes, should I try without the nurse?" I look up at Matt and he shrugs.

"I don't see why not. She's clearly hungry now."

"Uh, should we leave?" Chris says awkwardly and I wave him off.

"I'm gonna cover myself don't worry. Unless you want to leave," I say nonchalantly, not having a care in the world after just about everyone in this hospital has seen me naked. But of course I won't be flashing anyone.

"Junie don't cry, here's mama. She's got the food." Matt tells her quietly, bringing her to me as Chris clears my lap for me and goes to sit down next to Nick again.

"My baby," I pout as I grab her and her little cries die down once she's in my arms. "You already know the deal sister, let's see if we can do this." I talk to her confidently hoping I can do this on my own.

Matt stands beside helping me cover up and get June in the right position.

"There you go, all better." Matt speaks to her softly as she latches on and I exhale in relief. "Good job, mama." He runs his fingers through my hair and rubs my neck.

The nurse walks in mid-feed and praises me. "Looks like you've got it under control here." She smiles and checks my vitals quickly before stepping back out of the room.

Once June finishes eating I burp her upright on my lap, facing her towards everyone. At this point she's wide awake and everyone is staring at her.

"Oh my gosh, her eyes are like, gray," Nick says. 

"Can she see me?" Chris waves at her, shaking his head and sticking his tongue out.

"Her eyes will most likely change color, they can change up until she's a year." I tell them. "And she can probably see you as a blob, Chris. Stop dancing." I tell him and he stops mid griddy. 

"Oh..." He looks defeated and she burps loudly in that moment, making him laugh. "Why does she burp louder than me, she's like 12 hours old." he jokes.

I feel Matt's hand on my shoulder again and he gives me another squeeze. I look up at him and smile tiredly, he leans down to give me a kiss. Something we rarely do in front of others because we hate PDA. But we can't help it this time.

 I hear a snap of a camera and we both look to see Nick with his film camera.

"I couldn't resist. First family portrait." he smiles softly. "I can't believe you're a father, Matthew."

"Believe it, kid."

"Nick, will you actually take our family photos when we get home." I ask rubbing Junie's back. 

"The fact that you even asked that," he says looking offended and everyone laughs. "Of course I will, though."

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Sacrifical Bride.

Commissioned by the very lovely @yanmaresu.

Pairing: Yandere!Hades x Reader (Record of Ragnarök).

Word Count: 3.0k.

TW: Fem!Reader, Non/Con, Forced Marriage, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Emotional Manipulation, Rough Sex, Unprotected Sex, and Mentions of Kidnapping/Prolonged Captivity. Not Canon Complacent. I Have Never Met Canon But I Hear She's Very Nice.

The wedding was a solemn affair.

Not dull, because nothing that had your heart beating so violently could ever be considered ‘dull’, and not dreary, because despite the many, many things you could say about your kidnapper-turned-husband, he wasn’t one for bland affairs. No, your dress was of the finest and most vibrant silks, your veil lined with pearls and rubies and the gown’s train long enough to swell and ebb behind you as you walked down the seemingly never-ending aisle, unaccompanied by any escort. Wreaths of shining ivory lilies and blooming chrysanthemums encircled marble pillars, low-burning lanterns casting the chapel in long, wavering shadows. The pews were empty. The only guests were his ghastly servants, and they’d never once said a word to you.

There was no officiant. Hades waited for you at the brimstone altar alone, a gentle simper playing over his lips as he watched you drag your feet and fight the urge to bolt, to run, to do the very thing that’d left you trapped in his arm in the first place. It was tempting, albeit pointless. You’d always been swift footed, but there was nowhere to escape to in Helheim. At best, you’d spend a few days hiding and struggling to survive in the empty plains that surrounded his looming fortress of a home. At worst, you’d find yourself without direction and beyond the reach of his control, hopelessly lost and stumbling through fields of fading dead and gnarled beasts and things that would make the man in front of you look hospitable, in comparison. You tried to remind yourself of that as your body begged you to flee.

As you reached the altar, his smile grew into something that could’ve been convincingly genuine, had it been able to reach the pits of lifeless ice that were his eyes. Rather, the gesture only seemed to add to the coil of dread growing tighter in the pit of your stomach as you stepped beside him, clutching your bouquet to your chest in a white-knuckled grip. He’d let you pick that out yourself, at least, and you’d taken a truly irrational amount of joy in picking wildflowers and trimming roses and breaking every rule of decorum your mother had ever taught you. Now, though, the shadows of his hall seemed to dull your vision-searing colors, and it was difficult to take joy in such a simple pleasure knowing the man in front of you sought to ensure you’d never braid daisies or sleep beneath open skies again, when he was staring you down like yet another precious gem he planned to add to his ever-growing collection. It was a cruel comparison, but not quite as hyperbolic as you would’ve liked.

There was a shallow sigh, a hand brought to the edge of your veil. He toyed with the fabric for a long moment before taking the hem in both hands and pulling it away from your face. If he recognized the terror stitched into your expression, he only deemed it worth a slight shake of his head. “Oh, beloved.” His hand fell to your cheek. “You’re as radiant as the day we met.”

The day he plucked you from your mortal life and dragged you into the depths of the earth, the day he’d forced the awful seeds of that terrible fruit down your throat and promised you would never see another living soul again. You swallowed back your nerves. “Please, don’t draw this out.”

You were lucky you’d fallen into the hands of such a mild-tempered captor. He let out an airy chuckle, turning back to the altar. It was decorated sparsely; an overflowing cornucopia posed in one corner, a standing thurible slowly releasing nauseatingly sweet incense into the stagnant air sitting in the other. Between them was only a bottle of dark wine and two twin chalices, crafted of only the finest bronze and polished until they shined in the low lighting. He filled both to the brim before looking towards you, a glint in his remaining eye as he took a chalice in either hand.

You’d been wrong when you assumed they were identical. Where one had a line of aimless, curling thorns following the rim and plunging down the length of the handle, the other was embellished with roses, abstract and nearly shapeless, forming neat columns across the body of the cup. He extended the latter to you, its contents threatening to spill as you took it in your trembling hands. You’d managed to talk him out of the more elaborate ceremonies he’d suggested, but it was difficult to remember that this was a preferable alternative now that could feel the chill of his wine seeping into your palms.

You brought it to your lips, held it there for a moment, then pulled back at the hint of a more familiar scent than that of his dizzying incense. “Pomegranates?”

“I thought it would be a nice touch.” For him, maybe. He’d always struggled to see things from your perspective. “Forgive my sentimentality.”

You wouldn’t, but you were smart enough to keep that to yourself. When he raised his chalice, you did the same, mirroring him when your own will failed you. “To us, darling.”

You nodded. “To us.”

He took a long sip from his chalice, seeming to savor the rich wine, while you drained yours in a single breath. Try as you might to enjoy it, you could only seem to taste ash.

~

A few vows were exchanged, a kiss pressed into the back of your hand when you flinched away from his attempt to communicate his affection more directly. Finally, he took your arm and guided you back to your shared chambers, lingering in the doorway while you collapsed onto his bed – your marital bed, now, you supposed. You buried your face in the silken sheets, letting out a soft groan. There would be a celebration later on, a feast with all of his many gloating brothers and prying sisters in attendance, but the worst of it was over. You were bound to him, for better or for worse. All you could do was weather the consequences.

You’d hoped he would be kind enough to leave you alone while you consoled yourself, while you took all that you knew and all that you didn’t and recontextualized it with yourself as the mortal bride to the God of Death, but a hand on your shoulder dispelled that fleeting fantasy. With no small amount of reluctance, you pushed yourself upward and turned your attention back to Hades. This time, without the pretense of custom, he didn’t settle for your hand. His mouth found its way to the dip of your shoulder, then the crook of your neck, his teeth scraping against your skin as he pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses into his chosen targets.

When he started to move towards the curve of your throat, you moved on instinct – your hands finding their way to his hair as you dragged him away from you before he could do anything you wouldn’t be able to forget as soon as he left the room. “Please,” you said, not for the first time that day. “I… I’d rather be alone, right now. If it’s all the same to you.”

His smile didn’t waver. “You know that, if it were up to me, I would bend to your every whim,” he spaced the words out generously, as if worried your feeble human mind might not be able to understand. “But we aren’t done.”

Your expression fell. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me. I wore the dress, and—and I took your vows, and—”

“My love,” he cut you off swiftly, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek. “Our union will have to be consummated, eventually.”

You felt your throat begin to swell shut.

“I know that, but—” You laid your hand over his, trying to call upon whatever pale imitation of sympathy might’ve existed in his heart. “—does it have to be consummated now?”

You watched as his gaze softened, as his head lulled to the side in that endeared-yet-condescending manner he seemed so fond of. Slowly, with a painstaking gentleness, he brought you closer to him, ghosting over the top of your head and lingering there, even as he started to speak. “I think,” he started, his voice muffled by proximity. “that it would be in your best interest not to keep me waiting any longer.”

It wasn’t a threat, but it was posed like one, dredged up from somewhere deep in his chest and accompanied by his hand on your waist, nimble fingers slipping underneath the sash binding your gown together. When you jerked back, reflexively trying to escape his advances, he was quick to chase you, to let his softened smile spread into an amused grin as an arm wrapped around your midriff and dragged you, willingly or otherwise, into his lap. “I don’t want to hurt you.” And yet, your safety didn’t seem to cross his mind as his blunt nails bit into your waist, as he dragged you close enough to feel his chest press into yours, to become uncomfortably aware of the stiff outline against the loose fabric of his pants. “If I rely on my own self-restraint for another day—” Another kiss, this one to the tender patch of skin above your jugular vein. “I’m afraid I might end up doing something we both regret, when the time comes.”

“Less than a day,” you pleaded as he buried his face in your neck. There was a blur of movement, the ghost of his touch along the curve of your spine, and your bodice fell away in tatters, the ruined fabric collapsing to your waist. When you moved to cover yourself, Hades clicked his tongue and you froze, letting your arms fall back to your sides. Begging him to change his mind was one thing. Going against him so transparently would only make things more difficult. “Half a day. An hour. I just— Hades, I can’t do this right now—”

“My love.” Swift, blunt, merciless. You’d been a fool to ever think he was one of the kinder gods. “I think I’ve waited long enough to claim what belongs to me.”

Any protest you might’ve had died in your throat.

You’d been a fool to ever think he was anything less than the cruelest of his kin.

You wanted to scream. If you couldn’t run, then you would yell, raise your voice and tell him that he already had you, that he’d gotten everything he could’ve possibly wanted, but anything you might’ve said was torn away and ripped to shreds as his head dipped low, his teeth latching onto the vulnerable skin of you collar bone and sinking in. He didn’t draw blood, but he didn’t have to. A bolt of pure, stinging agony shot from your chest to your core, only dulling as he pulled away with a low groan. “Have I ever told you how much I adore the sound of my name on your tongue?” You felt his hand on your hip, then your thigh, the remains of your dress cut through and disposed of with little fanfare. He gave your bridal lingerie (pure white and so obnoxiously lacy, you’d had to wonder if this was all some sadistic joke as you slipped it on) more attention, his thumb running along the delicate trim before his fingers slipped underneath it, tracing the length of your slit before doing away with the barrier altogether.

Dread and panic dulled your reactions, but it would’ve been a lie to say the feeling of his mouth on your skin had left you completely unaffected. He chuckled as he gathered your slick on his fingertips, two of which were soon pressed into your clit with a brutal sort of precision. “And you tried to play coy.” He teased the sensitive bundle of nerves mercilessly, the patterns he traced into your clit too slow and too fleeting all at once. You wished he wouldn’t touch you at all, but if he was going to, it was the least he could’ve done not to draw it out. “That must’ve been why you seemed so rushed during our ceremony. If you’d asked me to make love to you on that altar, I happily would have.”

Hot, humiliated tears welled up in the corners of your eyes. You attempted to deny it, but a cracked moan slipped past your lips instead as two of his fingers were forced into your cunt and spread, splitting you apart. Your hands shot to his shoulders, trying to stabilize yourself, but he only saw your desperation as an invitation – bowing his head and pumping his fingers into you at the kind of languid pace that left you fighting not to rock against him, not to make up for the urgency immortal creatures so often lacked. “You’re a vice,” he muttered, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear, his tone low and lecherous. You wondered, briefly, if words that fell from the lips of a god could be considered sinful. “To think my own wife would’ve had me neglect her so severely for so long.”

You shook your head. You were married to him, sure, bound to him. But you couldn’t afford to think of yourself as his wife. You couldn’t afford to think of yourself as something so limited, something so purely an extension of him. “I’m not—”

“Don’t try to spare my feelings. I can see that I underestimated just how much attention my little mortal would need.” His wrist quirked, another digit pushing past your entrance and stuffing your pussy full as his fingers curled and ground inside of you. Against your will, you felt a tight heat begin to twist and writhe in the pit of your stomach, pangs of burning pleasure coursing from your cunt to your core. Now, you cried unabashedly, embarrassment and shame burning in your cheeks and fueling the unsteady stream of tears that Hades was so agonizingly quick to coo over, to kiss away as your hips bucked unsteadily against his hand. “What a sensitive wife I have.” That word – that awful word – was enough to earn a ragged sob, but if he recognized the connection, he didn’t deem it worth his concern. “I promise, you’ll never feel so unloved in my care again.”

You would’ve given anything to be able to pull away from him, to be able to shove at his chest and swear to all the gods you’d once worshiped that there was no part of you that could ever feel loved with him, but in the end, he was the one to let you go, to throw you onto the center of his great bed and leave you whining involuntarily at the sudden loss of stimulation. He’d never been one to deprive you, though; in a moment, he was in between your open legs, one hand wrapped loosely around your thigh while the other pulled feverishly at his own clothes. His coat fell away first, then his shirt. You heard fabric shift and metal clink and, in a daze, saw him wrap his fist around something he could not have possibly planned to fit inside of you. Half out of terror and half out of instinct, your gaze flickered from his cock to his face – to the wide, fanged grin he’d been wearing for as long as you could remember.

He moved to kiss you, and you drove your heel into his stomach.

The blow would’ve been weak by human standards, but it caught him off-guard. Out of reflex, he reeled back, and you took the opportunity to scramble off his bed and towards the door, to any part of this forsaken place where Hades wasn’t. You made it a step, maybe two before something caught your shoulder, before your body buckled under a weight greater than your own. You were dragged onto your knees before you could so much as think to slip away from him, your cheek forced against the cool marble of the floor before you could hope to make your descent more dignified. You felt his broad chest press into your back, his snarling lips against the curve of your throat. You wondered if the insult would be great enough to warrant taking your life, but the thought was dismissed quickly.

Hades had never been the kind of god capable of showing such mercy.

“I would’ve made love to you like a queen,” he spat, his tone all manic venom and overdue obsession. “But, if you’d rather be fucked on the ground like a whore, I’m more than happy to oblige.”

You weren’t allowed the luxury of bracing yourself, this time. In one brutal movement, he thrust into you, splitting you open on his cock with the kind of harsh, unforgiving force better suited to a wild animal.  There was no time to adjust, no time to sob, only Hades groaning against your neck as he bucked against you, never daring to pull out completely. Whatever agony his fingers had sparked was now ten-fold. Your legs shook, your body threatening to collapse entirely, but Hades kept your ass raised and your thighs spread, his focus entirely on bucking into you as deeply and as roughly as he could.

It almost surprised you when one of his hands shot to your head, his fingers tangling themselves in your hair as he forced his mouth against yours. You tried not to cooperate, but two fingers pressed into your clit and your mouth fell open in a guttural cry, providing an opening he seemed content to take advantage of. It was a deep, lingering, messything – all tongue and teeth – but his cock ground against something soft and vulnerable and you failed to suppress the wave of pure heat that flooded through your battered body as you clenched around him, as you came undone around the cock of your kidnapper, your captor, your husband. Hades wasn’t far behind, his composure shattering no more than a second after the walls of your cunt clenched down around him. You could only choke on your misery-tinged pleasure as his hips pressed into your ass and he came inside of you – his awful warmth soon tainting every fiber of your being.

You tried to tell yourself that, at the very least, it was over - that he’d had his fill of you and now, you’d be free to console yourself elsewhere, but your hopes were once again dashed when Hades failed to release you, failed to pull out of you, failed to do anything but press himself into your back and trail his lips idly down to the nape of your neck. “Once is a pitiful amount for a king. Don’t you agree?”

You felt his hips move back, then rock against you just as quickly.

“You can forgive me when we’re done, love.”

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

hihihi!!!! i loveee the way u write angst!!!! could i please request a reader taking a fatal blow for jason? like some self sacrifice where reader protects jay? ahhh i just imagine the desperation and him running himself ragged to save reader before it ends with comfort!! thanks soso much! i hope u have a great week🩷

Set In Place

Hi, nonnie! Thank you, hope you enjoy! ~1.7k words

Slight miscommunication, but it's in the way they don't know how to talk to each other about feelings.

You weren't always a vigilante. You never planned on it, never wanted it. But when Jason Todd died you couldn't sit still, couldn't do nothing while the monsters that caused you to lose your best friend, your boyfriend, your first love, ran rampant.

You trained and trained until you were a shell of yourself. Until you and Bruce were both on a warpath that would only end with two more graves.

That was, until Tim came into your lives. Things got better, not much, but better. You learned to smile again, learned to soften your edges when you talked to the growing number of vigilantes patrolling Gotham's streets.

It scared you, sometimes, seeing kids no older than him fly around in the colors he died in. So you worked harder, got better, swore with everything you were and wouldn't be again that there will never be another dead Robin.

And then he came back. Jason– Red Hood, he called himself. It sends your world into a tailspin. You watch him become Gotham's most feared crime lord, you watch him leave all of that behind to become a hero. You watch as he slowly finds his place alongside his family.

You're just not exactly sure of what his place with you is. You patrol with him, you work with him. It's an awkward, unpracticed partnership, and you're sure he feels the same. You've told Bruce you don't want to work with Jason time and time again.

It's not that you don't miss him, don't feel envy at how easily he seemed to fall back into a routine with everyone else, it's just hard.

Hard when you catch him staring.

You know you must be unrecognizable to him, no longer the younger, civilian version of you. Hardened by the horrors of Gotham, scarred and calloused hands where skin used to be soft.

Bruce apparently didn't care about your complaints, because you find yourself on patrol with Red Hood more often than not. It's the same tonight, the two of you paired up to stake out some warehouse expecting a gun shipment for Falcone.

You can't help but watch him from the corner of your eye, he's different too, now. Bigger, sturdier, and willing to kill. A part of you wishes you had the courage to tell him that it doesn't make you hate him. That you miss him, and that nothing can change that part of your heart that's always been his.

You're tugged from your own thoughts when you see the familiar glint of a sniper rifle across the street. Your heart skips a beat and you're moving before you've even really connected that there's a gun.

You slam into Jason, a shot is fired. Pain blooms in your side as you both hit the ground.

Everything was different when Jason came back. It took a long time to settle, to try to find himself, to try to find his place in a family he doesn't know, a Gotham that's not quite what he remembers.

But he adapted, he carved out a place for himself that's undeniably his. He's really only left with one uncertainty, one place he doesn't know how to fit into.

You. His best friend, his childhood sweetheart, his first love. You're different now, but he is too, and he wants that to be okay.

Jason just doesn't know how to get to okay. He catches you watching him, he wonders what you see now. If you recognize the boy he used to be in what he is now. He can't help but watch you too. You're strong, brave, selfless and so, so beautiful. He's amazed about how much you've accomplished, how many lives you saved.

It's why he keeps telling Bruce to put him on patrol with you. It's worth the looks he gets if it means a chance to talk to you. He's currently trying to figure out the best way to get your attention during this boring stakeout. Should he ask what you've been up to? No, too general. If you're liking the weather? Ha, no. It's Gotham, that's stupid. The weather is bad.

If you have a partner? Oh, he definitely doesn't want to know that answer right now. He'd very much just like to be able to talk to you first.

Did you miss him as much as he missed you? Do you still love him like he still loves you?

He opens his mouth to speak, not having a plan but anything is better than silence, when you slam into him, crashing you both to the ground. The air leaves his lungs when he makes contact with the concrete, instinctively wrapping an arm around your waist and cradling your head to cushion the fall.

"Hey, what–" He starts, voice failing when wetness starts to seep into his gloves. You're bleeding. You're bleeding. You're shot. You're hurt because you saved him.

He's only able to react on the years of skill and training ingrained into his bones. Get you off of him and on the ground. Remove armor. Pressure on the wound. Where's the shooter? His eyes dart, he doesn't see anyone. Doesn't see who did this to you.

"Oracle," he chokes out "They're hurt, gun shot. It's bad. I need- we need an evac." He's tugging off his jacket, more material to slow the blood flow, something to keep you warm.

"Hey," You're reaching up to touch his arm with shaky hands, you sound relieved, "You're okay."

He tears up behind his helmet. It's not fair, not right that you're trying to comfort him when you're bleeding out on some forsaken Gotham rooftop. He vaguely hears the voices coming through the comlink, that help is coming, that he needs to tell them what's going on.

But, he can't respond to them, too focused on you, the way you seem to be getting weaker with each passing second. He's panicking, his breathing is shallow and fast as he tries to keep you alive.

"Why did you do that? Why did you do that?" He asks, trying to keep it together, but it's impossible when all he wants to do is scream and cry and hunt down whoever shot you.

You just offer a frail smile. "Glad you're safe, Jason," You murmur, words getting more slurred and quiet with each passing moment. He checks your pulse. It's getting too slow.

"Stay awake, stay with me," He begs, words fraying as he sobs your name, "please."

Something touches his shoulder, he has his gun pulled and pointed before he bothers to see who it is, face curled into a snarl behind his helmet.

"Woah there, Jason." Nightwing. His hands are raised, "we're going to help them, okay?"

Batman sweeps past him, crouching down at your side to pick you up. Jason launches forward, panicked and unable to think straight as he barks, "Don't touch them!"

Nightwing hauls him back as Batman carries them, his person, to the plane. "No, no, no, please. I need to be there. I need to. It's my fault!"

"I know, I know, it's not your fault, we're going too. C'mon." Nightwing soothes, letting go of him. Jason's on Batman's heels immediately, gaze locked on you, how your eyes keep sliding shut.

"The shooter–" He starts, anger building behind the guilt and panic.

"Spoiler and Robin have it handled." Batman tells him. Jason nods weakly and when Batman carefully sets you down in the plane, he takes your hand. Nightwing starts working over your wound, you barely make a sound in reaction to the pain.

"Stay awake. Don't go." He murmurs, begging, as he squeezes your fingers. He nearly sobs again when you offer him a feeble one in return.

Everything hurts. Which makes sense, you did get shot. It doesn't really bother you, at least not right now, not when Jason's holding your hand, his fingers resting over the steady beat of your pulse on your wrist.

You're not exactly sure how long you were passed out, but it was long enough that they got you into the medbay in the Batcave, stitched you up, and got you into a bed. Long enough that Jason's fallen asleep in the chair next to your bed, his head resting on top of the sheets by your hip.

You only hesitate for a second before reaching over to brush his hair back with your free hand. He's pretty when he's sleeping, but then again he's always pretty.

His eyes snap open and you draw your hand back. "Sorry, didn't mean to wake you up, Jason."

He sits up quickly, eyes darting over you, "Don't be. Are you okay? How are you feeling? Does anything hurt?" He hasn't let go of your hand.

"I'm okay." You promise, because you are. He didn't get hurt. He's here, and that makes everything okay.

He exhales shakily, studying you, "You shouldn't have done that."

You shrug, "Maybe, but you would have done the same thing." You know it's the truth, even if what's between you isn't the same, he's good. Always so good.

He frowns and runs his thumb over your knuckles, lost in thought, he can’t find the words to refute you, to make you understand what you did was wrong. "Do you– can I get you anything?"

You smile at him, teasing, trying to lighten the look on his face, "What? You gonna be my personal maid till I can get outta bed?"

You're surprised at how earnestly he nods, "Yeah, of course. Whatever you need, just let me know."

You blink at him and take a risk, "Maybe you could keep me company for a while? Not much to do in medbay," You ask tentatively, unable to ignore a real chance at being something– anything– with him.

Warmth blooms in your chest at the way he smiles at your question. It surprises you again, how thrilled your question seems to make him.

If you only knew what he was thinking now, how much he's been trying to find this moment that brings you two back into each other's lives, and the guilt he feels that it took you getting hurt to find it. "I'd like that," he tells you.

You squeeze his hand, and he looks down, as if he forgot he was even holding it. It feels right, familiar, something that used to be found again.

"I'd like that too." You say softly. It makes the two of you grin like two idiots in love.

You'll both figure out you are, eventually, but in this tender moment, it's a sweet solace to have found a place next to each other again.

[neteyamyawne]

🫀— You Promised

༄ Pairing : Aged!up!Neteyam x Fem!pregnant!Reader

༄ Summary : You never thought about losing your mate, atleast not when you needed him the most in your vulnerable state.

༄ Warning : Angst! Lots and lots of angst, no comfort, crying, pregnancy, major death, depression, sadness, dying of a loved one and more sadness, maybe a smidge of fluff.

༄ Prompt : Holding their mate's (or child's) unconscious/dead body

༄ Word Count : 2.7k Proof read.

༄ Note : I love making you guys cry, idk why, I cry myself when I write this kind of stuff.

༄ Glossary : [Yawne] - Beloved, [Olo'eyktan] - Na'vi clans' leader, [Iknimaya] - Na've rite of passage, [tsahik] - Na'vi clans' spiritual leader, [Uthuru] - to seek refuge, [Paskalin] - sweet berry, [Skxwang] - moron.

◦ Angstmas || Masterlist

It was like any other normal day only if you were in your home and not in another strange clan that you've never known except for stories and political talks.

You lay on the soft woven mat, made by your mate just for you, a hand on your swollen stomach as the life growing inside moves at its own pace while you rest from the tiredness that comes with.

»»————-　𑁍　————-««

You and Neteyam mated right after he passed his Iknimaya, being the first in line to be the olo’eyktan and you to be his tsahik but it was all came crashing down when your father-in-law decided it was better to flee for the good of the clan and for the family as well.

It was the second month of your pregnancy when you had to leave your home forever, the strength of your mates arms held you up as you cried in his chest, hands shaking like a leaf as you watched Jake renounce his position as the Olo'eyktan to Terasem.

The tears in everyone's eyes, Neytiri’s sobs, Neteyam could only stroke the side of your head, pressing a kiss to your temple as he lead you to his Ikran “It'll be okay, Yawne, believe me, we'll be alright, I'll take care of you and our little one” he whispered comfortingly in your ear when you both mounted his Ikran and he placed you in front of him, your face towards him as he draped and covered you with his own shawl, he held you against his chest tightly before he took off with his family.

He had one hand on Seze’s reigns, controlling her moves through the air and the other on your back, under the shawl that was draped on your body, your face buried in his neck, your arms wrapped around his waist, so you could rest comfortably on the rough journey, he caressed patterns on your back as everyone flew more and more away from the forest until it was just the expanse of the water in front of them.

Neytiri kept glancing at her eldest son, pride blooming in her chest as she saw how much of gentleman her son is, the scene could only remind her of the time with Jake during the war, when they aligned all the clans, with a small smile she looked away, giving the couple some privacy as she moved closer to Jake's Ikran, bob, while running her hand through Tuk’s braids.

»»————-　𑁍　————-««

It took a week or more to reach the metkayina clan, Awa’atlu, they accepted your Uthuru, with much criticism and nagging, but they did, it wasn't the same since then, there was always a deep feeling in the back of your mind, reminding you, again and again that something is wrong or would go wrong.

Even now, 4 months later, as you rested in the mauri with Neytiri on the other side making dinner while the others were out for their lessons, as Neytiri didn't willingly wanted to take the lessons and would rather look after you because it wasn't recommended for you to start your swimming lessons yet, she was always there for you, no matter what.

Even then, it's only been a month or two since Quaritch started his search spree across all the water Na'vi clans for Jake, that was the one thing everyone was alert for after Tonowari gave us the news, you didn't want to keep that in mind, not in your condition, not when it added to your ever growing worry.

Neteyam came back later, seemingly happy to see you resting on the mat he made, and because he loved the beautiful curve on your belly, the sign that his little baby grew safe and sound, he also knew that you didn't like the ocean as much as the trees back home but it was doable, plus he would rather have his baby in a safe environment than a hostile one, which was the only reason he loved this place, for the sake of his family's safety was all he cared about.

On a good day, you'd join the group, watching them learn in the depths while you sat in the shallow waters laughing at their failed attempts until your stomach starts to hurt from laughing while clutching your bump or learning new things with them, even successfully befriending an Ilu and riding it safely that you could have options to move around Awa'atlu.

But on days like these, when your exhaustion hits a little too hard, he couldn't help but lay down behind your back and just wrap his arms around you and pull you into his warm hug.

You always knew it was him, by the way he'd kiss your neck gently, one large hand on your belly as he strokes it softly, his head nuzzled in the Crook of your neck “You know you don't have to pretend you're asleep when I'm right beside you, Paskalin” he whispered, hot breath lingering on the curve of it.

You chuckled at the tickling sensation, giving in after he catches you in your pretend sleep, once again for the upteenth time, turning around to face him while he strokes your cheek with his hand as the other caresses your belly, peppering your face with kisses as you giggled “Did you eat anything, Honey?” He asked in a whisper, picking up after his father to call you sweet human nicknames that he loved. Like father, like son.

He was disappointed when you shook your head “how many times have I told you to eat something every two hours? It's not good for the baby, yawne!” He whisper-yelled at you but the answer he got from you was just a chuckle “I wasn't hungry, Ma teyam, and i wasn't feeling well either, Now let it-” he just shook his head in disappointment “tsk tsk tsk, you should have told me or sa’nu, she would have-”

The sentence was left unspoken when the loud commotion and yelling was heard outside, the locals were screaming at something or someone and loud cries were heard, both you and Neteyam got up with Neytiri and made your way to the rage going on inside the supply tent.

Neteyam kept his arm around your waist as you entered the tent, shielding you from the hands that reached out to hit or hold you or him. He was surprised at the sudden uprise until he understood what was happening when he took in the gossip and looks he was getting and looked at his father who was trying to explain.

Ronal’s Tulkun, Roa, was found dead or rather murdered by the human, as well as her babe.

»»————-　𑁍　————-««

When Jake apologized and made his preposition on how to save the other Tulkuns from further harm, Neteyam saw Lo'ak running away from the crowd towards the diving edge, calling for his Ilu, immediately knowing what he was upto, he went behind him with you in tow after him.

“No way you're rolling out of here, baby brother” Neteyam said sternly as he walked in on Lo'ak strapping the saddle on the Ilu, Lo'ak halted, rolling his eyes at his brother in annoyance.

“I have to warn payakan about the pingers!” He snapped back but lowered his voice when he saw you behind Neteyam.

“No! you've gotta keep your skxwang ass here, you understand me?!” Neteyam said with a hint of annoyance lacing his, he didn't want another one of his brother's stupid mistakes to be blamed on him, not right now, not when he himself was about to be a father.

“Neteyam…Calm down” you whispered lightly, holding his arm back, you didn't want him to blow off on Lo'ak again, it could be done quietly and patiently.

Lo'ak on the other hand wanted to try and reason with him to let him go “he's an outcast, there's nobody to warn him but me”

Neteyam huffed, placing a hand on Lo'ak’s head, holding his brother in place “bro… why do you always have to make things so hard?”

Lo'ak hissed, flicking his brother's hand off his head in anger and defiance as his tone shifted to an aggressive one “No. You mean why can't I be the perfect son like you! The perfect little soldier! Who does everything right, has the perfect life and a perfect little mate and family! Well I'm not you! Okay?!” Neteyam sized him up and Lo'ak took a step back looking up at his brother and lowered his voice again “I'm not you..He's my brother! I'm going”

You were taken aback at that, you grabbed his arm making him face you as anger simmered in your eyes at what he just said “LO'AK!! What are you talking about?! He's your brother! Stop this right now! Is this how you talk to your brother?!”

Lo'ak skipped a look between you and Neteyam nervously as he took another step back but Neteyam stopped him by grabbing his arm tightly and forcing him to look “He's not your brother, skxwang! I am! And don't you dare talk like that again”

But Lo'ak was having none of it as he twisted his arm out of his grasp just when Tsireya, Ao'nung and Rotxo arrived giving Lo'ak a good distraction to dive into the water for his Ilu, Neteyam growled loudly before patting on Ao'nung’s chest “we have go behind him, he's going to payakan” he said urgently.

But something in your heart panged when he said that, a weird unease spreading to your chest again and you called out to him “teyam…please, don't go” you didn't know if it was stupid or not but you wanted to believe it “please, it doesn't feel right”

He looked back at you after he called his Ilu and came up to you quickly, cupping your cheek in his palm, stroking his thumb over your cheek, his other hand caressing your swollen belly, as he looked into your eyes intently, connecting your foreheads together and kissing your nose “Shh… I'll be right back, I promise, don't worry, I just have to put this Skxwang back in his place again” he whispered lovingly with a smirk, kissing your forehead one last time and giving your hand a tight squeeze before diving into the water with the others and following Lo'ak.

»»————-　𑁍　————-««

Your heart was pacing a mile per second, the feeling of dread getting worse when it was notified by Lo'ak that Payakan was marked by the humans and Neteyam was their with them, Almost half of the clan, including Ronal and Tonowari were gone to save them, but all you could think of was Neteyam.

Hours passed and the sun began to set, spreading an eerie red and orange hue throughout the sky, no news of anyone or anything, only the sight of the injured or fallen warriors broughton back to Awa'atlu filled your mind with nightmares you only prayed stayed in your dreams.

You placed a hand on your stomach, the feeling of your baby moving against your palm was enough to give you some courage to call your Ilu and riding over to the scene yourself following behind another group of Warriors who were sent back to help others.

»»————-　𑁍　————-««

The sight was a horror to take in as you sat on your ilu looking at the havoc the place was in, the ship sinking, fire ablaze on the water from the oil spill, the sky dusted in a amber color and dark smoke, as if matching the hell beneath on the water but your heart dropped when you saw the rock Island… with others gathered together around something.

Urging your ilu over to it, you climbed off of the creature before you saw a body lying on the rock and dread filled the pit of your stomach, the feet looked eerily familiar but you refused to think about it, it couldn't be… a cold shiver running down your spine, goosebumps spreading over your body as your breath hitched, before you could confirm your suspicions spider pulled you back, shaking his head, but that's all it took for your worst fear to come true, gears in your head turning as a scream erupted from your throat which ultimately caught everyone's attention in horror when they saw you, when you realized what you were looking at.

“NETEYAM!!!!! NO NO, GREAT MOTHER, PLEASE” you ran towards him but Neytiri stopped you, catching your body in her arms as your cries rang out for everyone to hear, thrashing in her arms as Jake came up to you “Shh look at me, look at me…” he whispered holding you back and not letting you see his body yet, placing his hands on your cheeks and forcing you to look at him as tears already ran down your cheeks.

“NO NO NO, NETEYAM, LET ME GO PLEASE!! please….” You sobbed as they held you back, Neytiri couldn't hold back either as she hugged you, your loss was far greater than any others, your knees gave out from the shock as they caught you once again before they let you go, knowing there was no denying it “It's going to okay, it's going be okay” Neytiri whispered desperately to calm you but nothing could soothe you in this moment.

Your heart almost stopped beating in your chest as you saw his lifeless body, crawling over to his side, with trembling hands as you touched his chest that was now covered in his blood, cold lifeless eyes staring up at the sky, as sobs wrecked your body, crying over your mate, who promised you he'd come back, who promised to spend the eternity together, now gone, forever.

Kneeling beside him as your wails of despair shook the heart of great mother herself, shaking your head in disbelief, as you held his limp hand in yours, only if he listened to you, only if he stayed back!

Your head laid on his chest, like the thousands of times before where he caressed your hair, as he hummed a sweet melody for you so you could sleep peacefully in his arms, listening to his heartbeat as you fell asleep, was cold, quiet and unmoving, as if the once alive, beating heart, never existed, you sobbed on his chest, blood coating the side of your face but you didn't care, holding his hand as if he would wake up and smile saying this was all just a dream and he was there with you, like he said.

Lo'ak placed a hand on your shoulder to comfort you but it only fueled your anger towards himas you snarled at him viciously and everyone was taken aback “DO NOT TOUCH ME, STAY AWAY! ONLY IF YOU EVER DID AS YOU WERE TOLD TO THIS WOULDN'T HAVE HAPPENED, LO'AK!”

Your anger was justified and no one dared to stop you or invented in between, Your screams hit him like bullets as he didn't say a word, stepping back as you turned back to look at Neteyam's face, still unable to register the fact that he's gone and would never come back to you or your child ever again and your weren't ready to face it just yet.

“Teyam, please… you promised, right? you promised you'd come back to us, please, you can't do this to me, teyam… I can't do this without you, you promised to be there with me, to hold our baby, to hold my hand, you can't do this to me please, we- we…” you couldn't even form words anymore as more tears streamed down your cheeks, breaking down to the point of no return as your cries rang through everyone's ears.

They all couldn't handle to see your desperate attempts and cries to get him back, in hopes to get you back, begging any greater force would listen to give him back, their hearts breaking even more as they saw you placing his hand on your stomach one last time as you broke down completely, your head placed on his chest, watching the horrific sight of a mate mourning over her other half as their symbol of love grew inside her.

You closed your eyes and held him close one last time, holding his hand one last time, laying your head on his chest one last time, his hand on your stomach to feel his child for one last time as he still watched the darkening sky unmoving “you promised…”

Ho Ho Ho : @cryinginthemoonpool, @luvv4j4ybe11, @xylianasblog, @plooto, @itchaboi-itchyboy, @pandoraslxna, @taylormarieee, @thewiltedpeony, @neteyamswillow, @danniackerman, @hotdsworld, @zafrinaxyz, @xstarsdiary, @moondaisye, @puddle-nerd, @eywxveng, @minnory, @neteyamssyulang, @tavsianus, @ele-sme.

©Neteyamyawne2023 | All Rights Reserved. Do not repost on other platforms, copy, steal, or translate any of my works!

[its-avalon-08]

y/n neglecting danny boy, shes being a bitch abt it because of work. angst, happy ending

THANKS!

a inconvenience in your world (dr3)

✦ pairing - daniel ricciardo x female!reader

✦ genre - alot of angst, tears, neglect, happy ending

The faint scent of burnt toast hung in the air, a stark contrast to the usual aroma of freshly brewed coffee that greeted Daniel most mornings. He shuffled into the kitchen, his back already protesting the sudden movement. The Baku crash still lingered, a dull ache settling in his lower back every time he spent too long sitting or inactive.

Y/N was hunched over her laptop, brow furrowed in concentration. She glanced up at him briefly, a tired smile flickering across her face.

"Morning," she mumbled, her voice strained. "Big day?"

Daniel forced a smile, the gesture feeling stiff. "Usual training. You sure you can't make it for breakfast again?"

Y/N sighed, a flicker of frustration crossing her features. "Look, babe, I know we rescheduled last night, but this project is a monster. Maybe next week?"

Disappointment gnawed at him, but he pushed it down. "Yeah, sure. Text me when you're done, okay? We can grab dinner."

Y/N nodded absently, her eyes already glued back to the screen. "Sounds good."

two weeks later

Daniel scrolled through his phone, a growing sense of unease settling in his gut. Y/N's last text, a hurried apology for missing their planned movie night, had been three days ago. Calls went straight to voicemail, texts remained unanswered. He knew she was busy, but the complete lack of communication gnawed at him.

He finally caught her on a Wednesday evening, her voice breathless and clipped.

"Hey, Y/N, finally—"

"Daniel, I'm in the middle of something super important. Can we talk later?"

"But—"

The line went dead. He stared at the phone, a hollow feeling blooming in his chest. He tried texting again, a simple "thinking of you," but it remained stubbornly on "delivered" just like the others.

friday night

Exhaustion weighed on Daniel as he returned from training. He longed for a home-cooked meal, some quiet time with Y/N. But the apartment was empty, the silence broken only by the hum of the refrigerator. He reheated a leftover curry, the taste bland on his tongue. The once vibrant apartment felt cold and sterile, mirroring the distance growing between him and Y/N.

He sank onto the couch, picking up his phone. Y/N's social media profiles were a whirlwind of work updates and inspirational quotes, a curated life devoid of any mention of him. A sharp pang of jealousy stabbed at him, quickly followed by a wave of sadness. Where had the goofy selfies and mushy captions gone? Where had his sunshine smile gone?

a few days later

The slam of the front door echoed through the apartment, a punctuation mark to a fight Y/N didn't see coming. It had started innocently enough, the clatter of a plate hitting the counter as Daniel placed it in the drying rack.

"Seriously, Daniel?" Y/N snapped, her eyes glued to her laptop screen. "Couldn't you just leave it in the sink? I'm swamped here."

Daniel froze, the plate suspended mid-air. A deep frown creased his forehead, a stark contrast to the grimace he'd been trying to hide for the past hour. His lower back had been throbbing ever since his training session that morning, but adrenaline and the hope of spending some quality time with Y/N had kept him going. Now, both the pain and his hope were fading fast.

"Y/N," he started, his voice strained, "it would have taken two seconds to put it away."

"Ugh, not this again," she sighed, finally tearing her gaze away from the screen. "Look, I appreciate you making dinner, but I'm on a deadline. Can we talk about this later?"

Daniel stared at her, his jaw clenched. "Later? That seems to be our new thing, doesn't it? Later for dinner, later for that movie you promised, later for even a simple conversation."

Y/N bristled. "Don't make this about you. I have a very demanding job right now."

"Demanding?" Daniel scoffed, his voice laced with hurt. "Who just spent the last two weeks glued to that laptop, cancelling every date night, blowing off my calls mid-conversation because of some 'urgent' email?"

Y/N opened her mouth to retort, then stopped. The accusation hung heavy in the air, a truth she couldn't deny. Shame burned in her gut, hot and unwelcome.

"Look," she started placatingly, "I know I've been distant, but this project is huge. Once it's over—"

"Once it's over?" Daniel cut her off, his voice tight with a mix of anger and pain. "What about me, Y/N? When was the last time you even asked how my back was after that crash in Baku?"

Y/N flinched. A vague memory of a news report about the crash flickered in her mind, but the details were hazy, lost in the sea of emails and reports flooding her inbox.

"I, uh…" she stammered, guilt twisting in her stomach. "You said you were fine."

A humorless laugh escaped Daniel's lips. "Right, because superheroes don't feel pain, do they?" He slammed the plate down on the counter, the clatter echoing in the tense silence. Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision.

"I do everything for you, Y/N," he choked out, his voice thick with emotion. "Cook your meals, clean the apartment, manage your schedule – all while training and racing across the globe. But apparently, that's not enough. Because apparently, I'm just a fucking inconvenience to fit in between your precious deadlines."

Tears streamed down Y/N's face, a dam finally breaking. The words hit her like a physical blow, the truth stinging worse than any deadline.

"Daniel, I—" she started, but he cut her off with a shake of his head.

"Just save it," he said, his voice raw. "I need some air."

He stormed out of the apartment, leaving Y/N alone in the deafening silence. The echo of his words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the love she'd been neglecting, the connection she'd taken for granted. The laptop screen glowed accusingly, its light failing to penetrate the suffocating darkness that had settled around her.

The deafening silence that followed Daniel's departure pressed in on Y/N, heavy and suffocating. The laptop screen remained a dull beacon, its light failing to pierce the shame that gnawed at her. She numbly pushed herself to her feet, drawn to the kitchen counter where the forgotten plate stood.

Her gaze drifted around the room, finally seeing for the first time in weeks. The dishes were gleaming, not a single one left in the sink. The fridge hummed contentedly, stocked with fresh groceries. Panic clawed at her throat. This wasn't takeout night. This was Daniel, anticipating her needs, taking care of them without a single complaint.

She stumbled through the apartment, every corner revealing another silent testament to his love. Folded laundry sat neatly on the couch, a stark contrast to the usual clutter. Her work papers, once scattered across the dining table, were now organized into neat stacks on her desk, a laptop charger coiled beside them - fully charged, a silent reassurance.

Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision. How could she have been so blind? He'd become an invisible pillar, supporting her life while his own needs went unnoticed. Grabbing her phone, she dialed his number, her heart pounding in her chest. But there was no answer, only the cold, impersonal voice of voicemail.

Panic twisted into a knot in her stomach. She couldn't wait. She threw on a jacket, her phone clutched in her hand as she sprinted out the door. His favourite park, their usual coffee shop, all flashed through her mind, rejected one after another. Where would he go?

Suddenly, a memory surfaced. A conversation weeks ago, about a quiet spot by the river he'd discovered during training. With renewed hope, she hailed a cab, directing the driver to the location.

It was a small clearing, a patch of green tucked away from the city's bustle. As she approached, a choked sob escaped her lips. Daniel sat on a weathered bench, head buried in his hands, his broad shoulders slumped. Even from a distance, she could see the tremor that ran through him.

The river shimmered in the fading light, casting a golden sheen on the tears that streamed down Y/N's face. Daniel sat beside her, a tense silence stretching between them, broken only by the gentle gurgling of the water. Finally, Y/N broke the quiet, her voice thick with emotion.

"Daniel, I..." she started, her voice catching. "I don't even know where to begin."

He looked at her, his expression unreadable. The vibrant blue of his eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, was clouded with hurt.

"You could start with an apology," he said, his voice low and controlled.

Y/N flinched. "I am apologizing, Daniel. From the bottom of my heart. I was so caught up in work, in this damn deadline, that I completely lost sight of everything else. I neglected you, ignored your needs, and for that, I am truly sorry."

A bitter laugh escaped Daniel's lips. "Sorry doesn't quite cut it, Y/N. You weren't just a little busy. You were completely absent. Remember all those cancelled dinners? The calls I practically had to beg you to answer? The constant feeling that I was just an inconvenience in your schedule?"

Y/N's head hung low, the weight of his words crushing her. "I know," she whispered. "I have no excuse. I just… work became this monster, this all-consuming thing that stole everything from me, including my ability to see what was right in front of me."

"And what exactly was in front of you, Y/N?" he asked, his voice laced with a barely suppressed anger. "Because all I saw was a woman who didn't have a single moment to spare for the man who loves her."

Shame burned in Y/N's gut. "No, that's not true. You… you're the most important person in my life. You're my best friend, my confidante, the person I want to share everything with. But I let work come between us, creating a wall I didn't even realize I was building."

Daniel remained silent, his gaze unwavering. Y/N reached for his hand, but he pulled away, a flicker of pain crossing his face.

"You know," he began, his voice tight, "the worst part wasn't the missed dates or the cancelled plans. It was seeing you come home exhausted, glued to that laptop, barely acknowledging my presence. It made me feel invisible, like I didn't matter."

Y/N's heart ached. The image of him, sitting alone at the dinner table she never made it to, fueled the fire of shame within her.

"I see that now," she choked out. "And the truth is? You do matter, Daniel. More than anything. You're my rock, my anchor, the sunshine that makes my world brighter. I was just… so foolish to take it all for granted."

"Love shouldn't be taken for granted, Y/N," he said, his voice softening slightly. "It needs nurturing, attention. It needs to be a two-way street."

Y/N nodded, tears pooling in her eyes. "I understand that now. And I'm willing to put in the work, Daniel. To make things right. To show you just how much you mean to me."

He looked at her, a flicker of hope fighting its way through the pain in his eyes. "Actions speak louder than words, Y/N. Can you prove it?"

"Yes," she said, her voice firm with conviction. "I'll prove it every single day. I'll set boundaries with work, prioritize our time together, and be the partner you deserve. I won't let my career overshadow our love."

Daniel sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "It won't be easy, Y/N. Trust takes time to rebuild."

"I know," she agreed. "But I'm willing to put in the time, as long as you are."

Silence fell again, but this time, it was different. It wasn't a tense gap, but a space for contemplation, for a shared breath.

Finally, Daniel reached for her hand, his touch gentle but firm. "I… I want this to work, Y/N. But I need you to understand, if this happens again, if work takes over once more, then I can't keep going down this same path."

Y/N squeezed his hand tightly. "I understand. It won't happen again. I promise."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the river, a fragile hope blossomed between them. The road ahead wouldn't be easy, but with open communication, a commitment to change, and the unwavering flame of love.

The last rays of the sun painted the river a fiery orange, mirroring the burning intensity in Daniel's eyes. Y/N held her breath, waiting for his answer, the weight of her apology heavy in the air.

Then, with a sigh that seemed to carry the burden of weeks, Daniel reached out. Not for her hand, but for her. He pulled her close, engulfing her in a hug that spoke volumes more than any words could.

His arms wrapped around her tightly, his hold a mixture of relief and lingering hurt. Y/N buried her face in his chest, the familiar scent of his cologne and the warmth of his body a sudden comfort.

"Just… don't do it again, alright?" he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "Work will always be there, but you… you're irreplaceable."

Y/N nodded, tears soaking into his shirt. "Never again, Daniel. I promise."

He loosened his grip slightly, tilting her head back to look at him. His eyes, the color of a summer sky after a storm, were still troubled, but a flicker of forgiveness danced within them.

"You scared me, Y/N," he confessed, his thumb gently wiping away a stray tear. "The thought of losing you… it was unbearable."

A choked sob escaped her lips. "I love you, Daniel. More than words can say. Don't you ever doubt that."

He cupped her face in his hands, his touch sending shivers down her spine. "I know you do," he whispered, his voice husky. "And that's why this matters so much. Because I love you too, Y/N. More than racing, more than anything in this world."

He leaned in then, his lips brushing hers in a tender kiss. It was a kiss filled with forgiveness, with a renewed promise, and most importantly, with a love that had weathered the storm and emerged stronger.

As they pulled apart, foreheads resting together, a gentle breeze ruffled their hair. The setting sun cast an orange glow on their intertwined figures, a symbol of a new beginning, a love story rekindled with the promise of a brighter tomorrow.

[thoughtsfromlayla]

If I Dream Hard Enough

Summary: Morpheus' daughter Elise wants you to become her mommy against every odd in the world. Will you?

Notes: ~8.1k words. Happy birthday to @givingmyhearttoyou, this is for you, you fabulous human. Also, this fic was supposed to be like 1k words long and now... well! Hope you guys like it, sorry it took so long

Warnings: MDNI, 18+, ModernAU!Dream, DaughterDad!Dream, slow burn(?), smut, P in V, unprotected sex (yikes), fingering, slight angst all comfort, don't worry you guys get together in the end

Masterlist

You knew of Morpheus several months ago when he stopped at the restaurant you worked at to pick up an order for his daughter. At that time, you didn’t officially meet him, you just thanked him as he left the door as the other two waitresses did. Then for the past few months, he has been a regular, always sitting in your section right after dinner rush. You thought it was planned out by the way the two other waitresses snickered whenever they saw him there. 

You didn’t mind. He was a great customer and always left good tips and he often brought his daughter along. And while she was still young, about 7 years old since the last time you asked her, she was often a highlight of your week. Elise often brings you a wildflower she finds, growing in her garden to bring to you. Each time you accept with a smile and Morpheus is there watching. 

The day that Morpheus came in without Elise, the restaurant was dead silent. The other two waitresses had left early and you were left to defend the shack. So, you sat down with him and had a meal with him. He asked you about your life and you asked about his. You learn that his wife and he had separated after the unfortunate death of their first child and that he works as a psychiatrist for those who have trouble sleeping. He has a pet Raven named Matthew and for Halloween last year, his daughter made him dress up as a scarecrow named Mervin. 

After that conversation, the two of you grew closer as friends instead of your previous professional relationship. The first time that you met with Morpheus outside of work was when Elise invited you to watch her theater performance. She was cast as Wendy in the year’s show Peter Pan and you couldn’t have been happier to come along.

Morpheus had picked you up at 6:30 PM on the dot later that week. You wore something nice and comfortable for the early spring winds. Your heeled boots clacked against the concrete pavement as you made your way from the front door to Morpheus’s car. He was waiting for you by the passenger door, leaning against the sleek black design that matched his outfit well. 

When he saw you approaching, he smiled and offered the door for you. 

“Thank you,” You smiled as you got into the car. It smelled nicely of leather and a hint of McDonald’s french fries, probably a small lunch for Elise before her show tonight. 

“Did you have dinner yet?” Morpheus asked after he put on his seat belt. 

“No, not yet,” You say. It was a bit too early for dinner for you. Plus, you told yourself that the show would only last an hour so, you could just make something when you got home anyway. 

“Great,” Morpheus practically beams, in his nonchalant way. He places his hand on the back of your headrest and looks at you. “Elise wanted to go out tonight after her show, you should join us.”

Heat blooms across your cheeks and ears at how close he was to you. You smell his cologne and you feel like you’re going to go dizzy. But you bravely push through it. 

“Y-yeah, that sounds lovely.” You say, turning your head to look straight ahead. He looks behind you as he backs out of the driveway of your small house. 

When the two of you arrived at the school, it was surprisingly packed. Quite a few other parents were waiting in line to get a spot for their car in the limited parking lot. And luckily, Morpheus was able to find a spot near the middle. When you opened the door, Morpheus was already waiting for you on the other side, he held his arm out and offered it to you. 

“Why, thank you very much,” You smile, going along with it. The wind blew a bit harsher as the sun’s final rays disappeared from the horizon and you subconsciously huddled closer to Morpheus for a bit of extra warmth as the two of you walked toward the school entrance. 

Morpheus removes his arm from you and you frown a bit. You recover quickly, maybe he decided against it, and that’s fine. The next moment, his long wool peacoat is draped over your shoulders. The smell of him envelopes you as the warmth seems through your clothes. The warmth of your cheeks returns and you feel like you’re blushing to the highlands

“Won’t you be cold?” You ask, your hands grabbing at the opening of the coat to keep it closer to you.

“No,” He says and hands the lady a five-dollar bill for two tickets. His arm extends out again in invitation and you take it happily. 

The tickets gave you two some good seats, not too far back and not too close to the stage where you would have to crane your neck for the whole show. Before you took your seat, you took off Morpheus’ jacket and folded it in your arms. Then a lady stops the two of you in the aisle of the auditorium, right before your seats. 

“Morpheus!” She exclaims and walks towards the two of you.

“Oh, Jesus,” Morpheus mutters under his breath and hides it with a cough. “Hello, Becky.”

“Why, I haven’t seen you in years, not since my little William’s birthday those years ago.” She goes in for a hug, all-embracing and big grins. Her hoop earrings jingle with the rest of her jewelry: a big statement necklace, and bold silver bracelets on each arm. She sported a leopard print blouse and her round hips had some brown slacks to match the spots. 

Her hair had large curls, just recently blown out as she flicked it behind her shoulders. When she finally notices you, her smile drops for a brief moment before it broadens again. 

“Morpheus!” She exclaims again, her hands with fresh manicures going up like a surprised red panda. “I can’t believe you brought a girlfriend!”

“Um, she’s not-” 

Becky interrupts him and grabs onto your shoulders. “Let me take a closer look at you, sweetheart.” 

“Uh, hi,” You say as she gleams at you, looking you up and down and nodding. This was awkward. 

“You. Are. A. Gem!” She annunciates. “You know, I was beginning to worry about how long it was going to take this guy to get into a relationship again.”

“Oh… that’s…” You drift off your words, Becky was starting to make the both of you uncomfortable.  

“Let’s find out seats,” Morpheus interrupted us and you couldn’t have been more grateful. Becky nods as well before passing the two of you to sit somewhere near the back of the auditorium. Morpheus leads you with a warm hand on the small of your back. 

Eventually, the curtains draw back and the lights dim. A tiny Elise is in a makeshift nightgown and pretends to wake up from her bed. Almost immediately she spotted you in the audience and the grin she gave you made your heart clench. You give her a small wave and she waves back before remembering she had lines to deliver. 

===

You and Morpheus wait outside the school auditorium with the other parents and friends who came by to support the elementary play. You had fallen into easy conversation while waiting for Elise to get out of her costume. 

“She looked lovely tonight,” You comment, peaking over shoulders to see if she had come out yet.

“She sure does,” Morpheus says by your side and you miss the way he looks at you. When you turn to look at him again, his direction is directed forward instead. 

“Daddy!” A squealing voice giggles as it comes barreling toward the opposite of everything she embodies. Pink and glitter clashed against midnight black and pale skin. A rare smile pulls at Morpheus’ lips at her hug. 

“Hi, starlight,” He pulls Elise up until she is hoisted on his hip and her arms are securely wrapped around his neck. “Are you hungry?”

Almost comically, her stomach rumbles and she hides her face in the crook of his neck in embarrassment. The two of you laugh and you place a reassuring hand on Elise’s back. After little debate, the three of you are off to some local Italian restaurant. 

After dinner, which Morpheus kindly paid for, it was well past Elise’s bedtime but the little one was as hyper as if it was only noon. The drive back to your house consisted of her talking about rehearsal, her school days, her lunch yesterday, and a project on magnets that she has to finish by next Wednesday. 

The night ended with Morpheus walking you to your door. You stared at him, the fun you had from the night still evident on your face. You find that your cheeks are starting to hurt from how much you’ve been smiling. 

“Goodnight, Morpheus,” You say, one had already on the doorknob. 

Morpheus answers a few seconds later, almost lost in thought. “Right… goodnight,” He whispers and neither of you realize the unconscious step he takes closer to you. His face leans down and you can see the complicated colors of his eyes. 

You give him one last smile before turning the doorknob, unable to break eye contact with him. Before you could enter your house though, Elise rolls down her window from the back seat and shouts at the top of her lungs. 

“Goodnight Mommy!”

Your face snaps towards her, jaw unhinge and remains gaping open at her outburst. You turn to look at Morpheus, shock still evident on your face and you are greeted with a similar expression. His shoulders raised and stiff and if he were to open his eyes anymore, they might as well have popped out of his sockets.

“Elise!” He hollered from your doorstep. “I’m so sorry.” He quickly apologizes before briskly walking down the long driveway. 

Elise giggles from her backseat and the light heart sound fades as she rolls up her window again. Morpheus stares at her through the tinted backseat window before sighing and climbing into the driver’s seat. He gives a small awkward wave before leaving your driveway for the night. 

Somewhere along the year that you had known the two, you had caught feelings for the tall brooding act. But, love is difficult and while you love the both of them dearly, it is not his love to accept if he didn’t want it. You wouldn’t blame Morpheus for not being ready for that type of relationship, even if his daughter were to think differently. You overthought to the brink of exhaustion, but time waits for no one. You had rent to pay and customers to serve. 

A couple of weeks after, it was dead again. Just one customer sitting in your section, their refilled drink in your hands. The cool night air blasted through the front door and your heart clenched in your chest when you saw the new customers. Elise stands behind Morpheus, hand holding onto his much larger one. 

When she sets her eyes on you, her eyes glimmer in excitement.

“Hi, Mommy!” She giggles and runs towards you, hugging you around your legs. 

From your peripheral, you see Morpheus sigh and your heart sinks. You adore this child, but at the end of the day, she’s not yours to adore. Your smile drops slightly at the realization. 

“I thought your dad told you not to call me that?” You say to her jokingly, even if, to you, it was no joking matter.

“Well, my daddy says that if I dream hard enough, you will become my mommy.” She states, matter of factly. Her hands release from your legs and prop themselves on her hips. She looks up at you with adoration fit for a king and a toothy smile full of braces. The confession takes the breath out of you and gives you a breath of relief in the next inhale. 

“Is that so?” With a smile, you quirk up an eyebrow and look past her small figure on Morpheus. Blush looks great on his skin, you think to yourself when you see the blood creep up his neck and over his cheeks. 

He avoids your gaze, instead finding fascination in his not-so-new shoes. Wow, they sure look like shoes tonight, he thinks to himself as he puckers his lips in deep thought. You smile at the sight, of a large daunting man turned into almost nothing by his daughter’s comment. 

You seat the two and go about your job for the rest of the night. When Morpheus was ready to leave you bring his check to him and he pulls you aside. 

“Do you have time this weekend?” He asks while taking out his credit card. 

“Yeah, I do actually. My friend canceled at the last minute on some plans we had, why?” You ask back. 

Before Morpheus could respond, Elise pops into your field of view. She stands on the booth, hands propping on the table almost spilling over her kid’s cup of lemonade. 

“Daddy has to go to a… um, conserferants. He’s going to teach other doctors about something he learned!” 

“Yes, that,” Morpheus confirms. “I will be gone for the weekend and will not return until late. Elise wants to know if you would be willing to babysit her?” 

You look between the two, Elise giving you the biggest puppy dog eyes she could muster - and it was working. 

“I will pay you, of course,” Morphes quickly adds when you don’t answer immediately. 

“Please, pleeeease?” Elise asks, she goes in for another hug, arms wrapping around your chest at her new given height, and looks at you again with a pout. “Please?”

“Oh, alright,” You can’t say no to her. Squeals fall out of her mouth as she jumps on the booth, the cheap springs squeaking underneath. 

“Here,” Morpheus says handing you a napkin with his home address on it and after a few more exchanges of pleasantries, the two were on their way. You were to be at Morpheus’s house on Friday at 3:00 PM. 

The rest of the week goes by fast, each day that brings you closer to seeing Elise again and taking care of her for the weekend has your heart pounding in your chest. What if you set the house on fire? What if you accidentally serve her a knife in her sandwich or something? These thoughts follow you until you find yourself standing on the doorstep of Morpheus’ house and a trembling finger presses the doorbell. 

When the door opens to tall, dark, and mysterious, it is quickly subdued with the aggressive cawing of a raven. Its black wings spread as it flies onto Morpheus’ shoulder and caws at you again. Confusion clouds your mind for a moment before you remember about the pet raven he mentioned a few months ago. 

“Matthew, right?” You smile and give a small wave to the bird. 

Morpheus sighs and nods. “Yes, but you need not worry about him. He will be coming with me.” 

“I’m Matthew!” It caws and your eyes go wide.

“He talks?” You unapologetically point at the bird as it stares at you with a turned head. 

“Ravens raised in captivity can learn to imitate human voices, yes. Though, I would not go as far as to brag about talking. More like… mocking.” 

He stands to the side and allows you inside. Morpheus’ house was, well, the best way to explain it was an organized chaos. Toys were everywhere, breakfast plates were still on the dining room table, and Matthew’s enrichment toys were in places you never thought a bird could drop things. That being said, the hallways were clean, the house smelled of fresh air, and the interior decoration was deliberately placed. 

Morpheus gives you a quick tour of his house, the first stop being the kitchen, everything has a place and everything is in place. The fridge and pantry were both stocked and you could immediately think of a few easy recipes to cook for you and Elise for the next few days. Next was the joined sun room, and you stared in awe at beautifully displayed stained glass. It shined a rainbow of colors over the entire wooden room. Ivy plants swung from the ceiling and sunlight covered floor-to-ceiling bookshelves in a coat of warmth. 

The rest of the tour was simple, Elise’s room which was an explosion of pink and ocean blue with Barbies and legos on the floor, and lastly Morpheus’ room. 

“You are permitted to stay in my room.” He says as he enters the space with you following closely behind. The entire room was based around a midnight blue color which you found comforting. It was neat, unlike a certain daughter’s, and has a lone suitcase sitting on the bed, already packed and ready to go. 

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly,” You’re quick to interject. The king-sized bed and soft duvet call your name, but it felt personal. And are you that personal with Morpheus yet? 

“I insist,” He says, hand on his suitcase and Matthew swoops down to stand on the box instead.

“No, really, I can sleep on the couch or-”

“I insist,” He repeats and it didn’t seem like much of a choice. 

“Fine, you’re very persuasive, you know?” You joke and you see his lips twitch into a smile for a moment. 

The squealing of rusty wheels and then the collective commotion of children stop your tour a bit short and the front door bursts open to giggles. You knew that laugh like the back of your hand, and you both went into the living room to greet Elise. 

“Daddy! You’re still here!” She exclaims and throws her backpack onto the couch, the shimmering glitter of princesses catching briefly on the sunlight from the large windows. 

Her hands reach up and does a grabbing motion to which Morpheus picks her up and props her on his hip. It doesn’t last long as she soon lands her eyes on you. 

“Mommy!” She squeals in excitement and starts squirming in her dad’s arms until he relinquishes her.

She barrels her way towards you and launches herself into you, giving you no choice but to grab and pick her up so she doesn’t slam into you. She’s soon holding on to your neck as you hold her and your smile grows bigger. 

“Elise,” Morpheus warns and at his sudden shift of tone, Elise buries her head into your neck, knowing that she got in trouble again for calling you that. The mood of the house sudden brought down and seemingly so did the temperature. 

You hold onto her tighter as Morpheus’ frown deepens. “Elise,” He calls out again, this time his arms folded over each other. “We’ve talked about this.”

“La, la, la, I can’t hear you,” She murmurs into your neck, holding on tighter to you. 

Morpheus sighs and comes closer, placing a hand over her back, and starts rubbing smooth circles. Wetness soon coats your skin as you realize that Elise has started crying. Her trembling shoulders and hiccups were soon to follow and you and Morpheus shared a concerned look. 

“I want a mommy,” She chokes into your shirt. “She’s my mommy…” 

Morpheus and you share a look again. His face was apologetic and worried at his daughter’s sudden confession. Children have no filter and what they say is what they mean. How can you leave her like this when she so clearly expresses what she wants?

“Okay, Elise,” You soothe as you pet her hair. “Let’s say goodbye to Daddy first and then we can grab a snack.” 

Elise peaks out from the little hidey-hole of your neck and gives a small wave to her dad which he reciprocates. Morpheus leans in close to the point where you can smell his subtle cologne and aftershave and he gives a quick peck to Elise’s hairline. 

“Be good, Elise. I’ll be back in a few days.” He says and brushes her hair away from her face to reveal red eyes and a runny nose. 

“Bye Daddy,” She says back but doesn’t find the courage to meet his eyes. 

He sighs again before going into his room to grab his suitcase. You follow him to the door, Elise still latched onto you, but now her breaths have evened out. 

Morpheus looks back when he’s just outside the door, storm clouds are rolling in and you can smell the petrichor in the late spring winds. He gives you another look of concern to which you simply nod in understanding. Matthew caws impatiently as large drops of rain start to make their descent. 

“We’ll be fine,” You say as an unconscious hand wraps around Elise again.

Silence is shared between you two, an understanding that there is going to be a heavy topic to talk about when he returns. Until then, Morpheus comes closer and wraps his long arms around the both of you and you stand there stiff. You feel the warmth of his lips press to your cheek before he pulls away. 

He doesn’t explain and instead turns away quickly to get into his car, leaving behind the shocked look on your face. The two of you stand at the entrance as you watch him pull out of his driveway. Elise waves a small hand goodbye as he disappears down the street in fog and rain. 

When Elise sees the last glimpse of her father’s car leaving the horizon she slides off of you and walks to the kitchen. She sits patiently at the kitchen table when you find her again. 

“Can I have a snack?” She asks and swings her legs back and forth. 

The sudden change in her emotions gives you a bit of a whiplash but did as she asks and made her a small snack. After which you clean up the kitchen a bit while she munches away. When she was done, she asks for some help on her weekend homework which you didn’t help much, just guided her back to the paper when her thoughts started to wander. After homework was a simple dinner of chicken parmesan and then you sent Elise off to shower. 

The rain still hadn’t let up and continues to pelt down in harsh drops against the roof. The longer it goes on the more you grow anxious. You never did well in thunderstorms, rainstorms were fine, but as soon as you heard that boom of thunder, you were nothing but a child again, hiding underneath your bed. The monsters under the bed were less scary than the bright flash of light across the sky. 

When Elise comes back out to the common areas after her shower, freshly scented with bubblegum body wash, she finds you in the sunroom. The once cozy space grew cold when the weather changed. You huddled yourself against the corner and stare out the window, absentmindedly looking at the wildflowers that grew in their backyard. Thoughts cloud your mind just like the weather outside, and just like the rain slamming against the glass, you were beating yourself over.

Morpheus seems adamant about not letting Elise call you her mother, so that means he must not want you to be her mother. Your feelings for him had bloomed into something more over the months that you had known him. You subconsciously began chewing on your nails, some odd habit that you still haven’t broken since your high school years. 

Maybe, it would be best for you to stop being friends with Morpheus. You could never ask him to make that kind of decision and instead make that decision for him. It would be easier for both of you, you told yourself - lied to yourself if you wanted to be honest. 

The tugging motion on your shirt pulls you out of your thoughts. Elise stares at you, hair still wet from her shower, and now cozy in her pajamas. 

“What are you thinking about?” She asks you and climbs into your lap. 

Your hand goes to her back to support her as she makes herself at home. 

“Adult things,” You reply vaguely, hoping that she takes the answer. She doesn’t, because of cause she doesn’t. Elise is too bright for her age.

“Is it about how daddy doesn’t like it when I call you mommy?” She questions.

A sharp inhale comes into your lungs as you stare at her. After a few silent seconds, you respond simply. “Yeah.”

A few more seconds go by.

“Do you… want to be my mommy?” She asks again.

“...Yeah, but I don’t think your dad would allow it.” You confess to her. Guilt clouds you, someone as small as her shouldn’t be in the middle of all of this. 

“I want you to be my mommy, too.” She yawns this time and her eyes begin to droop. She leans her head against your chest and her breath starts to slow. 

“I know,” You whisper and when you look at her again, her eyes are closed. You kiss her on her forehead and pet her hair. A sigh leaves you again, decisions, decisions. 

Picking up Elise carefully to not wake her, you make your way to her room and set her carefully in her bed. You tuck her in, extra tight, and turn to leave her room. 

“Mommy,” She calls out groggily.

“Yes?” You say as you turn your attention back to her, kneeling so that you are on the same level as her. 

“I think,” She yawns again. “I think daddy thinks he doesn’t deserve to have a mommy… after what happened to my brother. I think he thinks he did something bad, so he can’t have something good again.” 

Yeah, she’s too bright for her age. 

“Let’s not think about it anymore tonight,” You conclude the conversation with another forehead kiss and she falls back asleep. With one last look at her sleeping form, you leave the room, leaving the door slightly cracked, just in case. 

Your shower was just how you liked it, but your thoughts come back to haunt you in the quiet house. The thoughts follow you, nagging you, as you unpacked your clothes and stacked them on top of Morpheus’s drawer. It still hasn’t left you alone when you changed into your sleepwear and did your face routine. 

You stare at the large empty bed and sigh. It was still relatively early, only 10:00 PM, yet your bones were tired and even though Morpheus said you could use his bed, it still felt wrong. The couch was just fine, but who were you kidding? You climb into the bed and pull the blanket up to your chin. 

The bed smelled like him, the pillows smelled like him, and everything reminded you of him. Perhaps this was a mistake. Oh, but the bed was so comfortable and the rhythmic splattering of the rain lulls you to sleep before you even knew it. 

You wake up to a phone call, and the blinding light makes you squint at the notification. Morpheus was calling and your heart rate skyrockets. You answer and put the phone to your ear. 

“Hello?” You greet and even you can hear the grogginess of your voice. It made you cringe for some reason. 

“How are my girls?” He responds.

Morpheus’ voice is something else and it makes you giddy. It certainly made you feel like a teenage girl again, wanting to kick your feet and scream while running around the house. His voice was somehow better over the phone. Tired, low, and seductive almost - you could fall back asleep to it. 

“We’re doing good,” You start. “Elise has been asleep, homework’s done and all that.” You update him. “How’s your conference?”

“It’s tomorrow, so I can’t say yet.”

“Mhmm,” You reply and you feel sleep tugging at your eyes again. 

Morpheus keeps talking about his day, something about giving Matthew to another friend to look after and the drive to the next few towns over. The words go through your ears on one side and out the other as his voice lulls you to sleep. 

“Are you asleep?” You hear him say from far away. You don’t have the energy to respond. A few seconds later, on the verge of consciousness, you hear his voice again. 

“Goodnight, my dove.”

The three-tone dial is the last thing you hear before you finally release the last of your waking hours. 

The next day, the rain still hadn’t let up and you ended up driving your car into the garage so as to not have any damage done to it. Elise was bummed out as she was supposed to go to the local park with her friends from school, but for obvious reasons, it was canceled. The two of you ended up making a pillow fort in the living room and watching Barbie movies for the rest of the day. It was low maintenance and cozy and everything you’ve ever wanted, not that it would have been much different if you were home by yourself instead. 

Elise hadn’t brought up the conversation you two had last night and you were grateful for it. The insights that the kid’s little brain could understand were astounding to you. She spends the day glued to your side while singing along to the movie’s songs and eventually falls asleep mid-movie with a cold popcorn bowl in her lap. 

You carry her back into her bed just like the night before. This time watching her sleeping form for a little while longer. After which you went back to the living room to clean up. There was a tough teriyaki sauce stain that was stained onto one of the blankets in the pillow fort that you ended up just throwing into the laundry instead of trying to spot clean. While the laundry runs, you put away leftovers and cleaned up the dishes. 

After the chores are done, you find yourself in the sunroom again, finding it ironic that the two times you have used it were when the sun was away. You run your hands across the spines of the many books that Morpheus kept. Many of them were scientific journals on the mind as you would expect regarding his job. A few were fairytales for Elise and a few seemed to be picked up from local libraries or garage sales. 

You select one from random, a short novel about a princess who sets out on a quest against the Greek gods to find her missing brother. An easy enough read for tonight, you think to yourself. You find annotations from handwriting that you didn’t recognize as Elise’s or Morpheus’ and come to the conclusion that it must’ve been his ex-wife’s. A bittersweet conclusion that he kept her books all this time.

Her handwriting was beautiful and so were her thoughts. They were eye-opening, sweet, and romantic, and through her annotations, you come to love her as well. If it were a different world, you would’ve loved being her friend. 

You are on the last few chapters of the book when your eyes became droopy. You set down the book, hoping to pick it up again tomorrow morning, and head to take your shower. The warmth of the shower only solidifies your tiredness and was a great way to relax your muscles before you grudgingly climb into bed, hair still damp as it hit the pillow. 

Everything about you was tired, but that damn rainstorm just had to test its luck and turn into a thunderstorm. You lay on your side, paralyzed, pulling the blanket as high as it can over your chin without suffocating you and squeeze your eyes tight. You imagine the blanket was the arms of your deceased mother hugging you again. You think of summertime by the lakeside, flowers blooming and butterflies flying. Your father is fishing on his small boat and is trying to catch something fresh for dinner. You think of your mother in the lakeside cabin making freshly baked bread and your breathing slows. You could relive this moment every day if it only allowed you. 

You’re playing with the weeds that grow by the stairs of the cabin porch, ripping at them and releasing the earthy scent, throwing them off into the lawn when you were successful. Your palms had several thin cuts from stubborn weeds that didn’t want to be uprooted. 

The smell of rain is heavy in the air as the temperature cools drastically and storm clouds roll in. Your father tries one more time to catch something and lightning cracks amongst the horizon. The wind picks up and creates aggressive currents along the lake, rocking his boat back and forth. You hear your mother shouting at you to get inside the house as cold, fat drops of rain pierce your skin. But your eyes don’t leave your father’s boat and soon your mother joins you on the porch, hand shielding her eyes to look out. 

Lightning strikes the lake, blinding you, your mother screams and thunder booms and hearing is lost. One moment your father is on the lake and the next he isn’t. The boat is on its side before the water fills it and drowns it, too. 

Your mother moves past you in a blur and you follow quickly. The rainwater mixes with your tears, hot and cold, running down your cheeks. You scream for your father, choking as the water comes into your airway instead. Is this what your father felt as he drowned? All you saw was your mother, in her perfect summer dress that stuck to her figure double over on the dock as she screamed, the rain drowning away all of her grief. 

A terrifying boom jolts you awake into a sitting position, your heart pumping at a mile a minute. You feel sweat coat along your browline as you lay back down, the back of your hand over your forehead. You hadn’t had that dream, or more accurately, that memory in a long time. You find the courage to get up and head to the connected bathroom to splash your face with some cold water in hopes of calming yourself down. 

You are so consumed by your own thoughts, that you don’t see the tall figure standing in the middle of the bedroom. A scream crawls up your throat before another lightning bolt lights up the room, making you jump as the thunder follows. You could recognize the disheveled hair anywhere. His confused face relaxes as he realizes that you are still here. 

You swallow some air, pushing your own feelings aside for a moment. “What are you doing back so early?”

“We were sent home early in regards to the storm. It would have been too dangerous to travel the next day,” Morpheus explains. On cue, another crack of lightning follows his words. 

“Well, welcome home,” You say, hospitality gone from your system at the late hour. You grab a pillow from the bed and head out the door. 

“Where are you escaping to?” He asks.

You quirk an eyebrow, not entirely understanding the question. “The couch?” You answer with a question as if it should be obvious. He’s home so he should be using his bed. 

You think you see his jaw tick at your answer but you’re not sure due to the dark. Another strike of lightning had you stiffen and you walk out of the room without another word. You managed to lay back down with a throw blanket that was in a basket near the couch and cuddle with yourself as much as you could. The blanket didn’t provide as much warmth or heaviness as the comforter did. 

You toss and turn back and forth but no matter how you position yourself, tiredness nor comfort found you. The thunderstorm had gotten worse and after much debate with yourself, you give in with a huff. You grab the pillow and hug it to your stomach as you stand and make your way to Morpheus’ room. 

You give a quiet knock and open the door, feeling almost childish at how you are going about this. You should have gotten over your fear a long time ago and yet here you were, standing vulnerable in your pajamas, staring at Morpheus as he sits up in his bed.

Your mouth opens but the words don’t come out. They’re lodged in your throat at what they’re about to say. Before you can find the courage to do so, Morpheus speaks for you.

“Are you afraid of the thunder?” He asks. 

You nod your head yes, and the grip on the pillow increases. 

“Do you want to spend the night with me?”

You nod again. 

He lifts the blanket on his side that you took the pillow from and you slip in. Warmth envelopes you immediately and you let go of a restrained breath. You turn to him and whisper your thanks as you face each other, your body deflating as stress leaves it. Silence fills the air and awkwardness follows after. Sleep is on the back of your mind and it tugs hard for rest. Your fear gets the better of you and you’re left lying awake, looking at Morpheus’ sleeping forming. His breath is rhythmic and his face is peaceful. A deafening boom of thunder jolts you and a small shriek leaves your lips. Unconsciously you snuggle closer to Morpheus and his eyes snap open. 

He feels you shaking and wraps a protective arm around your figure, one hand snaking under your neck to wrap itself around your head. He brings you closer to him as if shielding you from the raging thunderstorm outside. 

“Shhh,” He hushes as the rain pelts against the windows. “I am here.”

Your fingers are clutched to his shirt, knuckles white when he speaks to you. At another crack of lightning, you pull yourself closer to him, bracing yourself for the boom of thunder that follows. His hands cover your ears and you feel the sting of tears threatening to fall. The rain continues and after a few long minutes of only rain, you relax again. You lay in the comforts of his arms as you realize the thunder had stopped. Sleep pulls at your eyelids again and with a hiccuped breath you close your eyes. 

Morpheus’ cheat rises as he inhales before he speaks. 

“I am consumed by thoughts of you,” he confesses in the dark light of the night. Lighting cracks far away and you almost miss the confession. Is he trying to distract you? The thunder that follows isn’t as loud as your beating heart. 

He lays still with you over his chest and you hear the way his heartbeat accelerates. When the words finally, finally, register in your head you perk up and look at him. 

He opens his eyes and tears form along the bottom. “I cannot deny it anymore. Everything of me is filled with you. Your laughter, your scent, your voice. It has filled the crevices of my heart and healed the wounds of the past.”

You whisper his name, nothing else comes to mind for his confession. You sit up now and he follows after with his legs on either side of you. You cannot bear to look him in the eyes, his love for you is too strong to face head-on in the middle of the night. His fingers run across your back and you can’t deny the goosebumps that follow after. 

You feel his lips, just as warm as the first time, on your shoulders and he leans into you. He peppers kisses up your shoulder to your neck and you lean your head away to give him room. His arms snake around your waist again to hold you still, feeling the leftover tremors from the passing storm. 

“Tell me to stop and I will stop,” He promises in a whisper in your ear. 

His voice, oh so heavenly, has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “No, don’t stop,” You assure breathlessly. His hands slip under the thin fabric of your shirt and move upward, fingers featherlight and ticklish. Heat shoot straight to your cunt at his administration and your nipples perk as he runs a cold finger over them. His other hand travels lower and brushes against the rim of your shorts. 

He stops, only to continue when you whine in rebuttal and grind your ass into his front, feeling the heat and hardness of his arousal. Your heat clashes with his cold fingers as he runs them along the length of your slit. A moan escapes you at the feeling, it’s been too long since you last had a good sexual experience and your fingers are just not the same. 

His fingers part your lower lips and another runs circles around your clit. You clench around nothing, head thrown back and leaning against his shoulder as he continues. He’s stopped kissing you now, just watching your expressions trying to figure out what you enjoyed most. 

You needed more, something, anything. Before you could ask for it, he sinks a long finger in and your mouth falls lack. His hand comes to cover your mouth, muffling the wanton moans that fall out shamelessly.

“Shhh,” He hushes against your ear, sending shivers through your body again. You feel his teeth nibble at the shell of your ear, something so simple, and yet it felt so perfect. 

You feel his lips tug into a smile as your cunt clenches around his finger, to which he adds another, moving them in and out, in and out. His pace was calm, and collected, but you’re greedy. You want to bargain with him, another finger? His mouth on your cunt? How about a little bit of everything?

“Do you want more?” He asks, his voice low in timbre like the faraway thunder that rumbles. 

You nod, a small squeal leaving your lips as his fingers push up into your G-spot. You hear him groan behind you when your tongue darts out to lick his fingers that cover your mouth. He nips at the junction of your neck before he backs away. 

“Turn around for me, dove,” He directs you with a hand. 

You find yourself on your knees and you want to place your head back down on the pillows but Morpheus stops you.

“No.” He holds you up, his body flushed against your back. “Like this,” He pulls you up and holds your hand on the headboard, his fingers intertwining with yours as he keeps you there. 

His lips follow your spine, kissing down, inch by inch. His hands leave you and go to pull down your pajama pants, leaving the heat of your core bare to the cold late-night air. Your back arches as his fingers find themselves into your cunt again and you feel the wetness of your pleasure dripping down the back of your thighs. The rapture feeling makes your head dip down, but you don’t dare to let go of the headboard as Morpheus had instructed. 

Morpheus’ hand comes around your mouth again when your moans grow louder, your eyes roll to the back of your head as his fingers grow slicker and faster. You find yourself at the brink of your orgasm, cunt spasming as you clench on his fingers and your fingers gripping hard on the headboard, knuckles white, and head thrown back. Morpheus’ hand leaves your lips and gently wraps themselves across your throat, gently restricting the air that you want to breathe. White and blinding lights flash across the back of your eyelids as the searing pleasure of your orgasm shakes through your core. His fingers slow down as he helps you ride through your orgasm, leaving you panting and spent. 

You feel his lips against your ears again, whispering sweet nothings to bring you back down to earth. Your teeth are still buzzing from the orgasm when you feel something hot and hard press against your entrance. He presses forward and you feel the pressure of it, but he doesn’t enter, not yet. You’re shaking your head no, mumbling for recovery from your previous orgasm. 

“I can’t, not yet. I can’t,” You plea between pants. 

“Yes, you can, darling. I know you can,” Morpheus says. He runs the pad of his finger down your spine, making your ass perk up higher into the air from the sensation of it. “Yes. Just like that,” His praise continues. 

He sinks into you and the stretch is foreign. He’s girthy, bigger than you have taken before, but it’s not too uncomfortable. He has you panting without him even starting to move. He stays still as you squeeze your cunt around him and you’re further spurred on by his groans. Morpheus silences himself by pressing his lips to the nape of your neck, fingers intertwining with yours again on the headboard. His brows furrowed in concentration to give you time to adjust to him, but it’s hard, especially when you keep sucking him in like that. 

Morpheus only starts to move when you push back against him, taking him in another inch. 

“Fuck,” You hear him murmur in between your shoulder blades. One simple word and he has you palpable and jelly-like in his hands. 

Morpheus starts his thrusts slow, but much like how he loves, they soon become more - harder, better. Your moans go from soft to loud to muffled until he’s inserting himself over and over with such force that you’re left soundless. His power of his thrusts makes your shirt rise up until it just barely covers your breasts and the spaghetti straps fall from your shoulders. He snakes one of his hands down the sweat-dewed skin of your stomach and makes contact with your enlarged clit. 

He moans into your ear, unembarrassed when your cunt clenches harder around him when the finger pushes onto your clit. He starts to move the finger in slow circles around the nerves and your thighs start to shake. The rest of your body grows taught as his finger and cock slowly brings you to your second orgasm. 

Your mouth remains open, whines and whimpers falling out, Morpheus had long given up on keeping you quiet and only the brief remembrance that Elise was just down the hall make you bite your lips to silence yourself. Your orgasm was there again, just a little bit more and you’ll feel euphoria again. But no matter how much Morpheus keeps thrusting into you, you don’t get any closer. 

“Come for me,” He growls into your ear. 

“I can’t!” You whine out. You’re trying! Can’t he see that? You want it just as bad. 

“Yes, you can,” He huffs. His sucks a hickie on the peak of your shoulder blade and presses harder onto your clit. 

“Now,” He commands and you do. 

The snap was instantaneous and you taste blood on your tongue as your lip breaks open from the force of your bite. You feel each pulse of your orgasm rippling through you and then the sudden loss of Morpheus within you. You push your ass back into him, hoping to take him back into you. His cock instead rests between your ass checks when you feel the hot splurge of his cum splatter onto your back and the sound of your shared pants. 

You’re not entirely sure how long the high of your orgasm lasts but you come back to you laying on Morpheus’ chest except this time completely naked. 

“Did that really just happen?” You ask as sleep tugs on your eyes for the third time that night. The thunderstorm was long gone, and soft rain concludes the weekend long storm. 

A soft chuckle leaves Morpheus’ lips and it shakes your head. “Yes.” 

“What does this mean for us? For Elise?”

It takes a moment for Morpheus to answer and you think you fell back asleep. 

“It means that we can be a family, shall you want it,” Morpheus says. 

“That sounds perfect,” You smile and you know Morpheus could feel it on his chest when you do because when he speaks next, the happiness in his voice is genuine. 

“Then how about a date tomorrow, my love?”

Ngl, this was so fun to write you guys. Thank you to [redacted] on hmmm, "helping" me with the smut inspiration. If only you knew this blog existed.

Working on a couple more fics! 26 Ways of Taking You is basically going to be my own version of the NSFW Alphabet so they'll be short, porn no plot fics with our lovely Endless.

Don't be shy! Request a prompt or ask a question :D

Have a lovely day

♡ Yours, Layla

[carpe-aurore]

On rose bushes

Back when I was a kid, when we lived with my monster of a stepfather, we had a rose bush in front of our house. I remember I loved that thing, since it was the only plant that would grow in our home. Anything I tried to put in the ground died almost immediately. Nothing, and I mean NOTHING, ever grew in there. But this beautiful, huge red rose bush did. It thrived, even. I took care of it everyday, watered it, trimmed it. And every spring, it grew the most gorgeous and fragrant red roses. The petals would cover the whole front yard. You could smell the fragrance halfway down the street. My stepfather hated it, since he would always get scratched by a stray branch when he walked through the front door. We joked that the rose bush only hated him, cause it never happened to anyone else. Years later, after having enough of all the abuse, we moved out. That week was the week that the rose bush was about to bloom again for the spring. We came back at the end of the week to get the rest of our things and found the rose bush halfway dried and dead. It had not been tampered with, as far as we could tell. Nothing has been poured on it, or sprayed. It seemed to have just shriveled up in just a matter of days.

We moved in with my grandmother while we got back on our feet. She's always had a green thumb, and had the most beautiful garden in her backyard. She had a tiny, scraggly rose bush next to the window of my room, and told me that she had no idea what the color of the flowers were since it had never bloomed once in all the years she had lived in that house. But she told me I could try to take care of it if I wanted, and so I did. I watered it, trimmed it, and watched it slowly grow. The next spring she shouts at me from the backyard, excited as she's ever been, telling me to come look. Tiny buds are growing all over it. They bloomed into gorgeous little red roses. We both were so excited at seeing such tiny flowers. A couple of years after we moved out of her house, she tells me it never bloomed again after we left.

While we were still living with my grandmother, a friend from church approaches us and tells us she and her husband are renovating a house to put up for rent. They invite us to come take a look so we can see if we would like to live there. As she's giving us a tour, she tells me there is a rose bush out in the backyard that the previous owners had planted. She says it's very likely to die, since the weather has been hot and it had begun to shrivel up. But she knows I love roses, and tells me I'm more than welcome to try and revive it when we move in. We pack up our things from Grandma's and with the help of many friends and family, arrive at our new home. She tells me she'll be back at the end of the month to cut down the rose bush if it's dead. For the next month, waking up early each morning surrounded by halfway unpacked boxes, I get up to water the rose bush. I trim away at the dead foliage, and feel how much I have sacrificed to get there. I wipe my tears with hands that smell of cut leaves. I still remember the shock on her face when she arrived, garden shears in hand, to see a rose bush full of new green growth and tiny rosebuds. It bloomed into beautiful, bright red roses. We have lived here for about 7 years, and this rose bush has tripled in size since then. I water it, I trim it. I harvest the blooms each spring to place them in vases around the house, to gift to friends. I make rose jam out of the petals. I make rose tea to drink. Petals cover our whole backyard every time it blooms. The little girl that trimmed the rose bush has grown up, but the petals smell as sweet as always. And she's there as a woman now, harvesting the life she couldn't have before. She places a petal in her mouth and she thinks the roses taste especially sweet this year.

[optimist-pine]

Dream

Summary: in which Daryl discovers something about his heart

Warnings: Typical TWD content

Word Count: 1,021

Era: Season 4, the Claimers

A/n: The most selfish thing I've ever written - but also my favorite <3

Wooden boards creak beneath the soles of his boots as he climbs the stairs of the cozy cottage. Beside the front door, using the wall as a brace, he toes off mud-caked shoes, adding them to the pile of others, all smaller than his own. Dried clumps of dirt scatter about, some falling through gaps in the porch to join the barren ground below. The lanky old tomcat abandons sunbathing to rub lazily against his pantleg with a purr, and Daryl appeases him with a good scritch under the chin.

The screen door is unlocked as always, and as he crosses the threshold into the home his heart settles into a comfortable lull. A breeze flows in through open windows, ruffling faded curtains and artwork made by tiny hands taped to walls; fluttering the pages of a book laying open and knocking over pieces of a board game strewn about the floor. It fills the space with the gentle sounds and smells of early summer. Blooming flowers and birdsong.

He sets his kill down as he passes through a kitchen that bears the remains of freshly baked muffins, few left intact in an abundance of crumbs. Out of a cooling teapot wafts a pleasant blend of lavender, cinnamon, orange, and clove.

He pauses for a moment before the back door, listening as laughter and high-pitched squeals echo just beyond it. Then, pushing his way to the other side, his heart leaps. He's barely taken a step when he's bombarded.

"Daddy!" Voices shout as a tangle of little arms entrap him, tiny bodies clinging to his legs and stepping on his toes. A baby's happy shrieks add to the clamor of giggles as he ruffles sun-warmed heads, attempting to tug his feet forward.

But then they get him down and he lands with an 'oomph' in the soft grass, sharp elbows and knees clambering across him like he's a new piece of playground equipment to explore. The dog's licking his face, and the baby's hands clap excitedly and now everyone's laughing.

"Woah woah woah, time out." And there you are. You lean over the chaos with a grin, the sun framing your silhouette as tree branches sway behind you. You smell like spearmint and lily of the valley, cheeks pink from working the garden, and as your hand comes to rest on the slight bump of your belly he knows he's never seen a more beautiful sight.

"Did ya leave somethin' dead on my table again, mister?" You question, hands moving to your hips in an attempt to be stern.

There's no getting away with denying it, so he'll plead his case instead. "Ain'tcha gonna help me out 'ere?" He asks, reaching a hand up to you.

You ignore it with a shake of your head. "Guilty men must pay for their crimes." With a sharp nod, you turn to the children. "Show 'im his punishment." You instruct, bare feet making way to gather up the baby who's beginning to feel left out.

Those itty-bitty fingers are too good at finding every secretly ticklish spot, and he can only hold out for so long before he has to wriggle away from their assault.

On his feet again, he reaches out and spins you toward himself breathless and spirited. "Guess if 'm already a criminal I migh' as well steal'a kiss." He says, moving his hand to cradle your bump and the little one growing inside.

"Might as well, huh?" You repeat, the smile on your face so radiant that when your lips touch an overwhelming contentment courses through him. A soft, pudgy palm lands on his cheek and the two of you pull apart to the wide eyes and dulcet coos of the baby. He cups his other hand around the little head, placing a tender kiss on top.

The little rascals waste no time returning to their ruckus, tugging at him to follow. "Daddy, c'mon! We gotta show you somethin'!"

"Yeah! C'mon, Daddy!" The voice cries.

But he's stuck in place, unable to move as everything begins to fade away.

... No... Daryl can feel consciousness pulling at him, roughly dragging him into a new day. He begs his mind to stay; to linger. He never wants to leave this moment, a memory of something that never happened - that would never happen. But he can't stop it and he wakes on the cold cement, eyes opening only to focus on the bloodied floor where a man took his last breath a few hours ago.

He knows now. He can't stay with these people. The desperate ache in his chest reminds him of everything he'll lose if he gives up now. Even if all he loses is a dream. It would be too much.

That night, ready to make his move and depart from the men while they're distracted, he hesitates, just for a second, his heart dropping suddenly into his stomach. It's Rick, and Michonne, and... you. Sitting on a log right there, so close, face illuminated in the flickering firelight. Even in the darkness, he can see the swell of your abdomen holding his future - your future.

Your eyes find him at the same time that the barrel of a gun is aimed at your head. He's never felt a fury like he does now, all-devouring and consuming...

When it's over, you pull him close, burying your face into him like you can hide away in the folds of his clothes and the beat of his heart. His arms wrap around you so tightly, and oh - how he wishes he could keep you right here, where he knows you'll both be safe and protected. But he can't.

You pull away slightly, just enough to whisper, "We're okay. We're gonna be okay."

He nods, one hand on your belly and the other bringing your head back to his chest. Just for one more moment. He desperately wants to tell you his dream. To tell you that he believes that too. But he settles for, "I love you."

Your voice echoes back, clear and true, "I love you too."

[yourdeepestfathoms]

The you have any headcanon about Perrine and The Croon?

Perrine has an affinity for skulls because of The Croon, and they’re mainly the reason why she likes to collect them

The Croon refers to her as “calf”

Perrine sometimes catches glimpses of a tall figure out of her window at night, standing among the distant trees, hidden by just enough shadow to make her wonder if she’s just seeing things

The Croon gifts her skulls, bones, and small dead animals

When people say The Croon is evil, she’s the first to jump to its defense

However, Perrine does have a healthy dose of fear for The Croon

She doesn’t know why this is

But there’s always a level of wariness she feels towards it

There was this one night…

It was cold. The wind was blowing. Branches brushing against the cottage were like clawing fingers on the walls, desperate to get inside.

Perrine woke up.

Or maybe she had never fallen asleep in the first place.

She couldn’t remember.

It didn’t matter.

She got up from her bed.

All around her, the moonlight bleeding in through her window pooled ghoulishly into the empty black eyes of her animal skulls.

It felt like they were all watching her.

At first, she had gotten up to get a glass of water. Her mouth was dry, and the space behind her eyes was uncomfortably warm. But at the same time, she was covered in goosebumps.

But then, she found herself drawn outside.

Grass crunched under bare feet.

She didn’t even flinch from the cold.

Like she was in some kind of trance, she found herself delving into the woods.

And then, she saw it.

The towering beast of feathers and bone. It stood among the trees, nearly obscured by darkness.

The Croon.

She was scared.

She wasn’t sure why she was scared. She based her whole image around this beast, after all. She wore the moose mask because of it.

And yet…she trembled.

And then, she spoke.

“What’s the point of you?”

She asked it without thinking. It was a question that had been brewing in her head for ages.

“I mean…you embody and represent chaos…”

The Croon tilted their head for a moment, as if considering the question. The quiet night air was tense.

“Chaos…is beautiful and destructive. It’s everywhere, and it’s all-consuming. It doesn’t need any apparent purpose. It merely is. It destroys and makes and changes…over and over again. That is what I represent. Change is necessary. Everything must die, and from the destruction, something new is born. After a wildfire, flowers will bloom from the ashes.”

“But people like the flowers. Not the fire.”

“Perhaps. But they need the fire. They need the chaos and the change. Even if it destroys them. There is no new life without death, and there is no death without chaos.”

“But, you still destroy things. Why can’t you have something new without destruction? Why change?”

“Destruction..is just part of the cycle. It’s a part of change. There is beauty in decay. Death and destruction can be…art. The changing of the seasons, the wilting of flowers, the withering fall leaves… Even the most positive change is destruction for something else. Destruction and chaos are required for rebirth, for evolution. Because of change, everything is different, and everything is unique. There are no two things that are exactly the same, down to the last detail.”

“My friend, Cole, lost their parents in a horrible way. Is that supposed to be beautiful? Or necessary?”

“…Perhaps not. Not all destruction is beautiful or necessary. But not all death is cruel or senseless either. After all…without death, would you appreciate life at all? When an animal dies, and it decomposes, the earth gains the nutrients it gives to grow new flowers and new grass. New life. Even a death as horrible and cruel as that can still give new life to the plants and earth around it. It is the same with humans. A death, even a cruel and horrible one, can lead to new life for the remaining family or loved ones…or to the end of a destructive, hurtful cycle.”

“Cole has suffered since their parents’ death. There was no hurtful cycle to break! It’s not fair!”

“Death isn’t fair.”

Its voice had dropped to a low, almost guttural growl that shook her to the bones. But its empty eye sockets still held an eerie sense of calm.

“Life…isn’t fair. People die. Families are torn apart, homes and villages are destroyed. It’s the nature of the world. It’s a necessary evil.”

“…I don’t want to be a necessary evil.”

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Female or GN Wonka!Reader x Buddha, Loki, Jack, Tesla, Hercules and platonic Zerofuku (Based off the newest Wonka movie, if you hadn’t seen it you can ignore this!)

She’s quirky, eccentric, and described by everyone who met her as a chocolate making genius who relishes in nonsense, creating unique, flavorful and exotic chocolates that can give people a boost in confidence, grow hair, multiple alcoholic drinks in one, dancing, flying in the air and helping people see the bright side if they’re having a bad/rainy day

She’s famous throughout Valhalla for her chocolates, and her magical tricks to give others joys and all at the lowest price so everyone can enjoy and buy her chocolate, but after entering the afterlife she didn’t really see why money was important so she basically gives her chocolates away for free

(Love) had to stop her from doing that since everyone is crazy over her chocolates (He does think the low prices are fine since she wants everyone to be happy)

She rightfully earned her place in Valhalla not as a warrior, but from all the people she helped on earth, to saving and helping romantic relationships bloom, helping her friends get their freedom, uncover and reveal criminal activity and helping everyone in direct or indirect ways with her chocolates

Buddha is basically in TRUE paradise when he entered her chocolate factory and saw the chocolate landscape (So was Zerofuku, as he has stars in his eyes seeing all the chocolates)

Though everyone did a double take when she explained to them her ‘Nemesis’ who steals her chocolates at the dead of night (The Oompa Loompa) until they actually met him, because they didn’t think he was real

I haven’t seen the new movie, but I will use the original movie and the book for inspiration for this!

-You remember when they would call you mad, calling you a dreamer and a fool for your inventions, until one day they weren’t, then you were a genius, a magician, a wonder on earth for your creations.

-Your chocolates and creations took the world by storm, bringing joy to all around you, their smiles were your smiles…until you lost your smile when competitors tried to steal your ideas, wanting your fame and glory for their own.

-That’s why you hid away, locking yourself in your factory, making your creations carefully, so none could ever recreate them, and you watched their smiles from the safety of your factory, of your home.

-When you passed, arriving in your youth, in your prime as you were later told, arriving in Valhalla, you had been rather confused as to why you came to a place where heroes, warriors, and gods called home.

-You were regarded as a warrior in your own right, as you fought for the happiness of others, working hard and training, just so you could make the world so happy.

-Valhalla was different for you, you didn’t have to hide yourself away in your factory, you got to go out, meet new people, new friends, introducing those who had never had the pleasure of tasting chocolate, to chocolate!

-You creations were whimsical and awe inspiring, even to the gods who had never seen delicacies like yours before, all while tasting like a dream at the same time.

-Seeing the smiles on the faces of those who tried your treats brought you so much joy and happiness, it was like all those years ago, where you shared smiles with others.

-When you decided to start providing factory tours, you had no idea that so many wanted to come! It was almost overwhelming, but heartwarming at the same time to see so many wanting to visit your factory.

-So, to handle the large crowds, you handed out so many tickets per day, with the dates and times that they were to return so your factory wouldn’t be overrun.

-That’s what led you to your newest group of the day, Buddha, Loki, Jack, Nikola, Hercules, and Zerofuku, who were the lucky ticket holders for today!

-You met them all outside the factory, a bright and warm smile on your face as you removed your hat, “Gentlemen! A pleasure to see you all again! Come, lots to see and lots to taste!”

-Zerofuku cheered, running to catch up with you, taking your free hand which made you smile as they all entered the main lobby, which had display cases of all the different types of treats you had made over the years, back on Earth, showcasing your history.

-Hercules was smiling, looking at an Everlasting Gobstopper, “I’ve never seen a candy like this before. It’s so unique!”

-You just grinned warmly, letting them look around at the cases, “That’s one that I don’t make any longer. Back on earth, so many tried to steal it and replicate it, so it’s a little bittersweet to admit that I stopped making them.”

-Jack was surprised, hearing about the attempted thefts, “Did you ever go to the authorities?” you sent him a grin, turning on him this time, as you walked backwards, showing your quirky personality, “I did, but after being told too many times that ‘we don’t got time to worry about stolen candy’, I made my recipes impossible to recreate, and like the Everlasting Gobstopper, I just stopped making them.” Your voice had gone up in pitch, making fun of the police who had done nothing to help you.

-Once they were all ready to move on, you had them all wash their hands at the provided sinks before a massive door that had your logo on it, “Gentlemen, what you will see behind these doors…well… enjoy~”

-As the doors opened, revealing your massive room that looked like everything was made out of sweets and chocolate, eyes went wide and their mouths fell open, they had never anticipated anything like this!!

-You led the group in before twirling to face them with a big smile, “Everything in this room is edible my friends, so enjoy!”

-Buddha and Zerofuku fell to their knees, openly crying, completely stunned by the heaven they had just entered, which did make you and the others all laugh, seeing their shock as Loki took a picture, grinning brightly.

-Nikola had immediately ran out, not to try any of the sweets, but he wanted to know the science behind your creations, immediately going into research mode.

-Jack and Hercules took their time going down, both feeling a little intimidated by what they were seeing, it was like walking into a dream, but it was real, everything was created by you!

-Loki, Buddha, and Zerofuku, after getting over their shock, were like little kids, rushing into the room, looking around and trying things.

-You couldn’t help but laugh, seeing Buddha gnawing on a chocolate tree like he was a beaver, chocolate shavings flying out from all sides. Zerofuku hadn’t been paying attention and tripped, falling on top of a giant mushroom, but upon closer inspection, it was a giant marshmallow.

-Loki was just flying around, tasting a little bit of everything, no two things tasted the same, sending his taste buds on a journey as he joined Buddha and Zerofuku in getting a sugar rush.

-You wandered around, seeing their bright smiles, Jack was enjoying a cup of hot tea out of cups that were made of blown sugar, as he had taken a bite out of it once he finished the tea, “It’s not as sweet as I was expecting it to be. And I’ve never seen blown sugar like this, it’s exquisite!”

-Hercules was enjoying himself, walking around, eating a chocolate branch he had pulled off a nearby tree, wanting to see more of the room, “This is amazing Y/N! how do you come up with this stuff?” you just beamed, giving him a friendly wink, “Let your imagination run wild and don’t let anyone try to limit you!”

-You had been walking by before Nikola ran out, his eyes wide, as if he had gotten into your espresso chocolate flowers and put his hands on your shoulders and just started rambling off question after question, not blinking, looking so elated to see something so new! He wanted to get his other scientist friends and bring them here so they could see all this too!!

-They were amazed by your factory as you herded them to the next area, showing them where all the chocolate in your factory starts, the different machines that help streamline the candy making process, as well as testing areas where you were testing new products.

-Loki volunteered to try a new line of adult only chocolates, with booze, and he only had one and was instantly smashed, being carried by Hercules as the others were all laughing as you wrote that down, “Too strong, I need to adjust that. Here Loki!”

-He smiled down at you, seeing you holding up another piece of candy to him, “Y/N you’re so nice~~ I loves you~ all three of yous!” You laughed warmly as he took the candy, a reversal chocolate that helped with his intoxication, almost immediately returning to normal, just looking a bit woozy, asking what had happened.

-Your factory and your imagination were both so beautiful, it was amazing, and you were willing to share that with all of them as well as the others in Valhalla. After all, their smiles were your smiles.

[shewaslikeasunflower]

FLOWER LUCAS AU IM DOING 🫡🌻

This AU takes place in post-game, and Claus and Hinawa are dead in this AU. (may might a version of him while he’s in game though..for the funsies!!)

After pulling the final needle, the old Tazmily Village is back, and everyone is happy. Or at least, they should be.

Basically, sunflowers and vines grow out of Lucas's body, which are actually coming from his heart. Depending on positive or negative feelings, they’ll either bloom and grow, or wilt and shrivel. But they mainly thrive and grow purely off of his love!! Whatever he loves, the vines will grow more and reach out to the “source” of love that makes him feel that way, wrapping around it as well as also wrapping around Lucas himself as well.

If Lucas is sad, the flowers will wilt and die. But if he's defensive, upset/angry or stressed, he begins to get cactus aspects, which can result in this:

Vines/thorns can be cut off, but they’ll always grow back since they continuously grow from Lucas's heart. He feels as though it’s a curse, but he has to learn to live with it while accepting and moving on from the fact that Claus and Hinawa are dead. Also, if he is too emotional, flowers grow over his eye(s) and pretty much cover his sight and he can’t see :”D

thanks for listen to my yap sesh!!! i love him but im also hurting him haha

[dolliestfairy]

𝑆𝑜𝑓𝑡 𝐹𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟 𝐹𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑦 ❁ ₊ ˖  ་ ݁٬ ࣪✧ ،

Fluff Billy Loomis, Jason Voorhees, Michael myers, Jennifer check headcanons with Chubby!fem!reader who is a Flower Fairy ʚ(❛▿❛❁)ɞ

𖧷 Warning : Killing, Disembowel, Slaughtering, Killing in Public, Overprotectiveness, Mocking/bullying, maybe some misspelled word and yeah thats it.. i think. lmk if i miss anything. Reader Skin Color Is Not Announced

𖧷 A/N : Just taking a break yesterday, and now i'm writing again. hope you like it. and please give me reblog and feedbacks if you enjoy my writings :)

Enjoy Reading My Fairies ₊ ˖  ་ ݁٬ ࣪ ،♡ 🧚🏻‍♀️

𖧷 Billy Loomis

• He freaking love about the opposite vibration you both gave to each other

• would kill for you, not definetly, but obviously.

• first time he know that you're a no human he kinda freaked out a little bit

• he doesnt want to admit this but he really think that you're a cool person.

• you can grow flowers and nature and leaves and bla bla bla, thats freaking cool yk..

• would try to keep the secret that you're a fairy,

• although sometimes he cant help but let a few words about you leave out of his mouth making his buddies confused.

• but overall he really loves you and ESPESSIALLY the curves of your body... chefs kiss 💋

• really proud having a chubby flower fairy as his gf ₊ ˖  ་ ݁٬ 🧚🏻‍♀️💌

𖧷 Jason Voorhees

• thinks he doesnt deserve you.

• now dont get me wrong here, he freaking loves you and its a fact that you manage to bring the little jason out of his big mass body.

• but as we know, he's also a very very insecure boy :( so compare to your beautiful body he sometimes think he doesnt deserve you, and you deserve someone better than him.

• but you always make him feel better in bed where you make him feel so good it boost his confidence <3

• its only make him love you even more.

• and just like billy, he had no problems to disembowel anyone who dare to touch your hair in a wrong way,

• and given the fact that you're a fairy, he might get a little too overprotective of you, but its also because he love you so much and would love to keep the secret of you being a fairy tight-tight.

𖧷 Michael Myers

• he first think of you as a weirdo 😁💀

• but as times goes by, he also known the fact that you're not a weirdo, you're just simply a non human creature (unless you're actually a weirdo, that would be plus-plus <3)

• he thinks it cool of how you manage to make a flower bloom, to grow flowers with your power and ect..

• but since he doesnt talk, he just sometimes like, like he sees you 'performing' and then he just aggresively nodding at what you're doing.

• thats actually how he shows himself enjoying something.

• he also thinks your wings is a pretty combination with your chubby body.

• he would rather die than admitting this, but he is freaking love cuddling with you.

• and yes, he also had no problem to slaughtered everyone who talk down and look down on you.

• even if he had to kill everyone in a public place, in the middle of the city or whatever, he had ZERO problem.

• also since he doesnt talk, you dont have to fear about getting your secret spilled. and even if someone already like heared a little about you being a fairy, you best believe they're gonna be dead in just a few days later.

𖧷 Jennifer Check

• oh my god yk what?? this reminds me of like Lana del rey and Taylor swift friendship dynamic!!

• like she's the Lana del rey girl, and you're the Taylor swift girlie (unless you also like lana del rey just like me, it will also be a plus plus<3)

• REALLY REALLY PROUD having you as her partner.

• if someone mock your relationship with her because since she always view as an it girl or simply a 'perfection' it will be no doubt that you might get mock a bit.

• and when she find out about the fact that you're getting mocked by someone? oh god.. you best believe they're gonna be dead with their stomach ripped open.

• she gives zero fuck about their gender, age or status or whatever. if they fuck with you, they fuck with her, and you know what happen if someone fuck with her

• fuck with her is already bad, and now they want to fire it with fucking with you? nuh uh. honestly, not the best idea ever.

• and ok i know she's like very popular and she's also an extroverted lady, but she would try her best to keep the secret of you being a fairy.

• and since you both are non human, she didnt afraid to tell you what kind of creature she is.

• but she is, somehow, well not afraid, just worry that you might leave or hate her for eating a mankind.

• but overall, she's really love you and your talent, she might get a little envy about your talent or whatever, but that enviness will be quickly replaced by her proud nature about having a 'secret' flower fairy partner.

[mikachusblog]

Aria lore!

I have posted Aria before here and here, but I wanted to have at least one post dedicated to his lore and backstory on my blog! See it as a proper introduction kinda.. though it'll mainly just be me blabbering.. you can read about him under the cut! ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১

Aria Nazari, gen 5 of my legacy, 17 years old, he/him, half persian. Bisexual, currently in the closet.

Traits: party animal, music lover Aspiration: aspiring party planner Home: evergreen harbor Likes: piano, singing, snowboarding, streetwear fashion, high energy sims, deep conversations, tattoos, dyeing (frying) his hair, 80s rock, being the center of attention (but only when it's positive), manga, videogames, carrot cake Dislikes: public displays of affection, small talk, the color yellow, shrimp, cucumbers, being told what to do, the smell of scented candles

Bio! Writing this made me realise i made him go through sm this poor kid

Raised by parents consumed by addiction, Aria and his two older siblings had to fend for themselves, growing up under very poor circumstances. He keeps minimal contact with his siblings in present day.

Aria was put into a foster system at age 10, following the death of his parents. After being placed into his first foster home, he met Mable and Nathan at school. The trio quickly became inseparable.

Mable is Aria's closest friend, the one person he confides in. Nathan was his first in a lot of aspects; his first love, first kiss and first relationship. Before this blooming love got the chance to develop any further, Nathan passed away in a motorcycle accident. This marked the end of the few years of genuine happiness in Aria's life.

He bounced between various foster homes, his charismatic spirit and histrionic personality disorder masking the scars of a deeply traumatic childhood. His journey took a turn when he was placed with a new foster family, a couple determinded to offer him warmth and stability, albeit for just one year.

He was hesitant about attempting to get close to them, as he knew how easily his previous foster homes had dropped him. Conflicts and strained relationships followed, as Aria's behaviour was far from exemplary in high school. His foster parents Deryn and Xin Yi's love for him however, remained.

Mable kept in contact with him throughout the years following their separation, but the two didn't get to see each other again until their senior year of high school. They reunited at age 17, when Aria moved back to Evergreen Harbor to live with Deryn and Xin Yi purely by chance. He told Mable about the nature of his relationship with Nathan, which came as no surprise to her. She literally had her suspicions since day 1.

Aria met his next love interest, Niamh, at a party. Immediate attraction and easy-flowing conversations followed. He eventually asked her out on a date. Despite Aria's initial trust in his ability to move on from Nathan, frequent panic attacks and feelings of guilt proved the opposite. Niamh confronted him on the night of prom with a false rumour about him cheating on her. He hesitantly went along with it despite it being untrue, thinking it would be an easier and less painful way out compared to coming clean about his relationship with his dead friend. Didn't go as planned obviously, both of them were heartbroken and Aria got his ass beat by Niamh's best friend Nika.

He is currently prepping his uni application with Mable. The two are aiming to go to Britechester together.

Some random facts

Music has always been an outlet for Aria, ever since his elementary school teacher introduced him to the piano. He's a talented singer too!

He's afraid of death and the dark.

He smokes and grows his own weed but stays away from other drugs.

He picked up babysitting as a side gig, partially to avoid raising his foster parents suspicions regarding the money he makes from selling weed.

[niphix]

𓆩⟡ a thousand words i yearn to say, yet i remain silent. ⟡𓆪

﹒⪩ aki hayakawa.

≪ ◦ ❖ ◦ ≫ - now playing “watching the stars” // Øneheart

warning! all lowercase.

a hug.

…

that’s what he wants to ask of you. any form of intimacy whatsoever. 

your sparkling irises admire the starlit night sky, whilst aki’s own remain fixed on you. his gaze is unwavering and his thoughts are vague and far-off. little by little, his senses practically fade away along with any sense of awareness towards his surroundings. he can’t move nor speak. can’t feel anything other than the annoyingly nerve-wracking heat that spreads to each and every single fiber of his. cant hear anything other than his own racing heart. it’s as if it’s beating in his ear - given how torturously deafening it is. he cant look away nor focus on the rhetorical questions that fall from your lips every now and then, stating and solidifying your love for the ethereal display of almost other-wordly beauty that you behold above. 

“it’s gorgeous, isn’t it..?” 

you mumble with a small smile tugging at your lips as your unmoving gaze is filled with awe and admiration for the dreamy sky. 

oh how he wishes you’d look at him with those eyes.

despite your comment being nothing but a soft murmur, your voice cuts through and rings clearly in aki’s ears; like a wake-up call. contrary to all the other comments you’ve made, this one knocks aki back to reality; not for any particular reason.

his eyes widen in the slightest shortly before he tears his gaze away from you, subconsciously gritting his teeth behind his pursed lips as he regains all his senses again. his thoughts come running through his head at high speeds, overwhelming him with innumerable suggestions of what he should and wants to say. his mouth however, doesn’t cooperate. he struggles to form a coherent sentence in his head, that can convey his thoughts; his needs. when he finally does, the words only die down at his throat, becoming as meaningful as the void.

he never was good with words, and he never will be he supposes. therefore he can only cope with the frustration by sighing quietly, leaning his head back and bringing his cigarette up to his lips. the lips he wishes were on yours instead. 

maybe he can't bring himself to steal a hug, let alone a kiss, so perhaps he should just settle for appreciating the cozy nights like these that you share in comforting silence. those nights when power and denji are sprawled out on the couch, fast asleep like toddlers and you’d find yourself sitting beside aki, long past midnight on the balcony of his small apartment that was forced to house three more than it was made for due to makima’s command. 

with yet another sigh, aki closes his deep-blue eyes while trying to calm his agitated self. he’s far past the point of denying his feelings as his spiking heart rate and never-ending nervousness when it came to you deemed his earlier dismissed love for you very much real. 

his loose locks that are usually sat up in a tight, straight ponytail of sorts are now pushed back by his calloused hand running through his hair, before the strands fall back in place shortly after. 

he wants it to be your hand, though.

he wants you to stroke his hair lovingly, to hold him in your arms and never let him go, to reassure him that you’re his and always will be, to embrace him with the warmth he’s been longing for ever since he laid eyes on you and your damn smile that he’s so hopelessly smitten by. 

his indifference no longer exists around you. you make him forget all about his vows he made with himself. the vows to not grow attached. the vows to completely abandon the mere concept of getting close to anyone in his line of work. everyone around him are practically dead men walking; so why does he feel his heart skipping a beat when he feels the sensation of your cold fingers atop his blazing hand? why does his skin burn up so much more than it already did? why does he feel his insides bloom with a feeling that he had promised to seal away and never feel course through his veins? 

love. oh what you do to him.

“a penny for your thoughts?” 

you smile softly, waiting for a reply without sparing him a glance. in an instance, his throat goes dry. all you’re met with is silence, he can’t bring himself to speak. his lips part but his mind houses nothing but head-splitting chaos. he wants to be honest. he wants to break down his walls of fear, of nervousness and all the feelings that spiral up in his head as soon as he comes in a 10 meter radius of you. he wants to tell you that you occupy his thoughts more than he’d like to even admit to himself. he wants to break free from his thorns that wound him deeply and render him unable to express his undying love and yearning for you. 

“nothing special.”

≪ ◦ ❖ ◦ ≫

[writingoddess1125]

Okay since Corazon is dead, sadly, and he will never get to see his child grow, do you think reader will take them to his grave and told stories ( mostly about how clumsy he was) to their kid?

Heart of Gold

Ready to Cry! You've been Warned

⚠️ Warnings ⚠️ Sad Topics, Character Death, Bittersweet.

If you Like Click Here! <-

"Mami! Mami!" Your 6 year old daughter called out to you, running ahead as she smiled back at you proudly- it seemed a 20 minute hike didnt slow her down as much as it did you.

Dulce looked more like him everyday- it would be difficult to hide her once she got older... his big goofy smile, The Mess of blonde hair that seemed impossible to tame besides a beanie you put her in.

With a on her lips she continued to trudge through the snow, not letting the winter weather denture her it seemed. She hated to miss the weekly visits to her father..

It was another few minutes of walking before you reached it- The beautiful open clearing that had a single headstone surrounded by clear untouched snow besides two bare rose bushes on either side of the grave. It looked truly sorrowful during the winter and made the reality harder-

During the spring the clearing was filled with pink bleeding heart flowers and the rose bushes would blood, making it feel like Corazon was near by and next to you. Youd had planted it all when your daughter was one and the since bloomed just around her birthday- You'd said it was a gift from her father.

Dulce rushed forward, Sitting right infront of the stone. Uncaring of the cold as she started her normal routine. Clearing the snow off the stone while chatting away.

"Hace Frío.. don't worry! All the snow gone soon" Dulce said cheerfully, finishing wiping the snow as you took a seat. Pulling out candles to light, however pausing when you saw something to the left of the stone. Picking it up it was a fresh pack of unopened cigarettes- the same brand Corazon uses to smoke.. setting it down I front as you decided to leave the offering someone had clearly left your partner-

Dulce helped you light the candles and set out some of the things your brought, a cherry cake and a bottle of the liquor he liked. Once everything was set you sighed content.

"Can you tell me about him?" Dulce asked, always asking this when you two visited and wanting a new story about him.

"Yes my darling- Well He Acted very tough" You said with a giggle, choosing your words carefully.

"See- Your father had the act of a big tough guy, but if you scratched the surface you saw how much of a Goofy sweet man he was. Biggest heart too"

Dulce smiled widely, her attention fully on you as you spun your tale. Talking about the time Corazon had taken you out on a date, trying to be smooth and woo you over as he reached over to wrap a arm around you- however his lit cigarette catching the feathers of his coat and setting him ablaze. Dulce laughing as you described the child like scream he had as he tossed the coat to the ground and rapidly stopped on it like a mad man-

Or when he tried to walk towards you in a 'attractive' way- long strands and -but his long giraffe like legs seemed to not catch up as he face planted hard right before you cracking a tooth and givibg you a bit cheesy smile as you helped him up.

You had Dulce laughing and smiling for half an hour as you told her new and exciting tales of her father. After a while she had to take a moment to catch her breath- you as well. Dulce looking to the stone, as a serious look went over her eyes- Biting her lip a bit hesitantly.

"..Mamí... how did papa.. leave?" She asked softly, you frowning softly at her words.

"That is something even I'd like to know.." You said softly, looking at the gravestone of your lover. You had so many questions yourself... who would kill him? Who had brought him back? Had he intended to leave you and Dulce the way he had?

You wish at times as well it had been you who had brought him back, placing his tombstone- but more then anything you were greatful for whoever it was.. They had brought him home. Your hand reaching out and touching the icy stone with a gentle hand.

Dulce sees you do this, reaching out herself to touch the stone- her tiny fingers flinching at the coldness of it all. She stared for a moment, before reaching into her pockets clumsily-

"Mira, Papa, hice esto para ti- I made it in school" Dulce said softly as she set the now unfolded peice of construction paper down on the gravestone using the full box of cigarettes to pin it so it didn't fly away. There a crayon drawing of three stick figure people standing in the snow- Dulce in the middle holding your hand to the left and to her right a rendering of her father. She had never seen him- but you had told her what he looked like and even showed the single photo you had of him.

The stick figure man having a big red smile, a pink hat and the black feather coat- which looked like your daughter had done squiggles on his shoulder but that just made it sweeter. However what made your eyes misty was the big yellow heart on his chest and the blue halo around his pink hat.

"I hope you like it- Mamí says you had a heart of gold, I couldnt find gold so I hope yellow is okay?" Dulce said softly, beginning to talk about what she did to color it and make it pretty just for him. Speaking to the stone like he was truly there sitting infront of her, saying how she fell when she went to find a pink crayon since another kid took it and so on.

You bit your lip to hold back tears at this, The ache in your heart at the sight and you gently bowed you head to keep your daughter from seeing.

After a moment of silence you reached over, having finally been able to hold back your tears. Reaching over you pat your daughters back-

"Let's head back sugar" You say softly, Your little girl nodding as her nose wad starting to turn red. Scooping her up in your arms you turned away from the stone. Beginning the long walk back to your home-