#I almost made it through a full year without being sick too.

[exopelagic]

my flatmate has norovirus someone kill me

[makelemonade]

The Tsaritsa is the archon of love, so when she notices and feels that the love lives of her Harbingers aren’t going too well, she has to interfere.

female reader, hurt/comfort, the harbingers are all friends; Pierro and Capitano. - pt2

Pierro

Being the Tsaritsa’s righthand and her first Harbinger was a stressful job. He was hardly at her side despite being her righthand but the moment she needed something done, the first person she’ll go to is him.

The Tsaritsa also hardly shows her face in public, so if there is any event she ever plans for the Fatui, whether it be a gala, ball or anything- she’ll make Pierro go to talk, even though SHE’S the one who hosted it.

Well, sometimes she’s there, lurking. No one actually knows it’s her since she chooses to stay hidden.

She decides to hold an eventful masquerade ball one night to celebrate the success of her Harbinhers. It’s one that she of course probably won’t even be going to and Pierro must go on her behalf.

Despite being his lover of many years, aka HIS WIFE, he has never once let you come to one of these and just says you’ll be bored out of your mind.

But a MASQUERADE BALL?! HELD BY THE QUEEN?! You had to go. This was your dream.

You begged for DAYS and he was so sick of it that he was forced to say yes.

Only for him to completely leave your side the moment you get there. At first, you thought that maybe it was just because he had a job to do, but throughout the night, he did not even spare you one glance.

You were standing off to the side, downing your 5th glass of champagne you’ve been stealing from the trays.

You felt upset, honestly. This was your first ever ball with him, one that you prepared for in terms of elegance and manners. You even made your own dress! It was ABSOLUTELY GORGEOUS and it matched your mask and yet he didn’t even say anything.

You watched as he spoke to the Harbingers and important figures in Snezhnaya; they all laughed, smiled and showed off their guests, lovers or whoever they brought and you were practically discarded.

He acted like he had no lover tonight, and It made you wonder if his coworkers even knew he had a wife. Did he ever talk about you? Do they ever wonder why you’re never at the events? Do they even know your name?!

You struggled to listen in to their conversation, only being able to hear if one of them spoke loudly or the room went somewhat quieter.

You heard one speak a bit loud; the mayor of Snezhnaya.

“My Jester, I’ve never once seen you attend these with a guest. Why is that?”

The next voice was quiet, but you knew your husbands voice.

“I simply don’t have anyone to bring.”

You almost dropped your 6th glass of champagne, and if you did drop it, it would’ve broken just like your heart just did.

Married for YEARS yet they don’t even know who you are.

You waited for another waiter to walk by and slammed your glass down onto the tray, deciding you couldn’t stay in this ballroom anymore.

Walking around, you found doors that led out to a balcony and was thankful there was no one on it as you rushed to it.

The doors weren’t open wide so no one would see you out on there, thankfully. You took off your mask, letting your tears flow as you quietly sobbed, ignoring the cold hitting any bare skin.

On these nights, the Tsaritsa always seemed to calm down the weather. There was no harsh snow or rain, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t still cold- if anything, this was almost warm.

You leaned against the railing, your hot tears melting through any remaining snow left on it.

Shivering, you couldn’t go back inside- your mascara was probably smudged by now and you didn’t want to look at your husband.

You were thinking of ways to try to leave the ball without your husband noticing but in full honesty, he probably didn’t even notice you were gone right now.

You didn’t even hear the clacks of high heels until you felt something drape over your shoulders and you almost yelped out of surprise.

It was a coat; a long, fluffy one at that. You looked to your side to see you’d been joined by another woman.

Her skin was as pale as the snow, her hair long, flowy and honestly you could’ve sworn it was glowing. Her eyes were as sharp as ice yet as soft as snow.

Her dress was white, with laces of icy blue and sapphires adorned; the same with her mask.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone hide out on a balcony during any of these.” She almost laughed, “Too cold.”

You wondered how she wasn’t cold; she’d given you her jacket, and her arms were bare yet she seemed perfectly fine as she leaned across the railing.

She even dared to jump up on it, sitting down as if there wasn’t a huge risk she could fall off with one gust of strong wind.

That made you noticed there were no harsh winds tonight.

“What’s wrong, dear?” She asked, ever so softly as she took in the sight of your tears.

“Just my husband,” you scoffed, moving a hand up to wipe them. You didn’t know why you were exposing this to a complete stranger yet there was just something about her that seemed like it was right to do so.

She hummed, then chuckled. “Love; such a beautiful yet painful feeling. Glad I’ve had my fair share with it.”

“You’ve been in love before?” You asked, genuinely interested in this random woman’s life.

“Many, many times.” She leaned back a bit, holding onto the railing as she looked up to the sky with a sad smile, watching the northern lights dance.

“Which makes it necessary that I must help people in love.” She looked back down to you, “if you so wish to speak.”

You sighed, wrapping the coat around you closer as you shivered. “I’ve been married to my husband for years, yet it feels like nothing. He has a stressful job- he works for her majesty, so I never ever complain about his absence. Yet tonight, he completely disregarded the fact of my existence and, even his own coworkers don’t know I exist! He won’t introduce me! Am I truly his wife if he can’t even act as my husband?!” You just groaned, looking up at the lights just as she did before.

She took in your words, nodding at every angry or frustrated rant within. After a minute, she spoke.

“Have you ever thought he doesn’t introduce you because of his coworkers?”

You looked down, turning to her confused yet encouraging her to continue, intruiged.

“The Harbingers…as loyal as they may be, some are rather dangerous, reckless and if I dare say myself, absolutely weird.”

You cackled. There was no way this random lady was dissing THE TSARITSA’S HARINGERS. “Do you truly have no fear?!”

She just laughed as well, hopping off the railing to now stand beside you. “I speak the truth. Maybe take that into consideration; perhaps, even though he is the first harbinger and can definitely take on all of them if any dared to touch you-“

You broke out into laughter again.

“-maybe think it’s to protect you from them. His actions tonight are not to be forgotten, and I assure you that soon he will realize his wrong and all will be will.”

You took in her words, looking back up to the sky. Well, she wasn’t wrong; he was the first harbinger, and even though he is insanely powerful, that didn’t mean the others weren’t.

Maybe he was trying to protect you, but that didn’t defend his actions.

You turned to thank the woman, but was met with nothing. She was gone- you didn’t even hear her leave!

Then that reminded you- how the hell did she know he was the first harbinger?! You only mentioned she worked for him.

You still had her coat and you walked towards the doors to head back inside, hoping to find her but she was nowhere near.

You just sighed, choosing to sit on the bench at the side of the balcony. Wrapping the coat around you.

It was large, insanely large- the type of coat that would honestly fit the size of your husband….

You took a closer look at the coat, only to notice the Fatui emblem.

Who the hell was this woman?!

~~

“And then I told that stupid fennec green-haired bastard- OH MY ARCHONS!” Dottore stopped his story when he noticed the sudden presence of his archon and every other harbinger within the circle yelped.

“This is a first.” Capitano muttered, no one knowing if he was surprised or not under that mask.

They all tried to bow but she out her hands out. “Nono! No one knows I’m here other than you all so do not make a scene!” She whisper-yelled and they all immediately straightened themselves.

“Pierro,” She turned to him,

“Yes, your majesty?” He bowed his head,

“May we take a walk?” She asked, putting her arm out.

He nodded, wrapping his arm around hers. “Continue your story, dottore.” She called before she and the first harbinger walked around the ballroom.

“Your wife looks gorgeous tonight.” She said once they were out of earshot.

He looked at her with shock. “How did you-?”

“Pierro,” she sighed, coming to a halt. “You have been at my side for 500 years. You are my best friend but I am also your Archon; nothing gets past me, and as the God of Love it is my duty to tell you that your wife is heartbroken at your actions tonight and i’d advise for you to speak to her!”

During this; she somehow pushed him all the way to the doors and at her final words, she pushed him out onto the balcony, the warmth of the ballroom now gone.

He looked around and found your tear-stained face on the bench and he sighed, sitting beside you.

“You look adorable in that,” He laughed at HIS coat on you.

“Would you like to meet my coworkers, darling? I don’t want you to put this gorgeous dress to waste.”

Capitano

The fourth harbinger hardly ever talks. At meetings, he speaks a total of four words. There are very few Harbingers he will speak too and the only ones he actually talks to more than anyone else is Pierro, Dottore and Signora.

Just because you are his wife does not mean this excludes you.

The Tsaritsa had put both you and him down for an arranged marriage just a few months ago. Her reasoning- told through Pierro- being that Capitano seriously needs someone in his life and she’d rather it be someone who talks a lot- aka you.

You never met the Tsaritsa, but you worked for the Harbingers as a secretary so even before your arranged marriage you’ve had your fair share with all of them.

The Tsaritsa HOPED that maybe at meetings and gatherings capitano would finally talk more after marrying you and yet he remained as quiet as usual according to Pierro and she was gonna lose her shit.

Now, in the privacy of your home with him, he is more comfortable with you than the others. He’s shown you his face, but in truth the only reason being because he doesn’t want to sleep with it on and you literally sleep with him so…

He talks a bit more; he says good morning, good afternoon, good night..

Yeah…

At first you were fine with it; it was better than when you were just his secretary and he’d leave work on your desk with a note saying “have done by today. thanks :)”

It was cute you wouldn’t lie. you just wished he showed that little emotion on the note in real life.

It was nice having someone to constantly talk to and yap to; he always listened in with such focus, and would nod to show he was listening and interested.

But after doing that for months it just gets so tiring to the point it’s just depressing.

You may be married to him now but that didn’t mean your job was gone, so you were still at work with him. Sometimes it would be in his office or in someone else’s if they need help.

One day, at work on your break, you found all the Harbingers into the lounge.

“Y/N!” Childe laughed. “Our favourite- come sit with us!”

You shook your head. “I couldn’t impose, my lord. I was just taking my break.”

“Nonsense,” Signora waved her hand, shaking her head. “Take your break with us.”

Choosing to sit with all of them, you noticed Capitano wasn’t there- as per usual.

As you sat with them and they talked about their lives and missions, they’d ask you a few questions about Capitano. At first, it was simple questions about your marriage thay were deemed common sense which you’d answer yes to, but then it went into questions about him, which is when it got humiliating.

They’d ask about where he was from, what did he like to do in his pastime, why does he hardly talk, what’s his favourite food, drink, how does he like his tea, what are his next missions-

All you could not answer, and instead of you, his own wife answering, Pierro did.

You excused yourself when you realized that was absolutely humiliating. How could you, his wife of several months- close to a year now!- not know anything about him yet his BOSS, knew everything?!

When you left, Pierro noticed everything at that moment, and decided he NEEDED to bring this up with the Archon of Love, but let’s be real.

She already knew, and was trying to figure out ways to fix this; “We need Pantalone and Childe for this. They’re handsome, touchy, flirty and perfect.”

The next day, you’re confused when Pantalone and Childe are suddenly bothering you with everything; Yes, usually they’re asking you to help with paperwork but today was different…

It started in the morning when Childe came up to you asking you to spar with him. He’s only ever asked once, and he literally almost killed you that time. You were strong, but you had no vision and he was a literal harbinger.

He promised he’d go easy, and the sparring session lasted for about 30 minutes. By the end of it, you were completely sweaty and your hair was a mess- he apologized and offered to take you out for lunch

You accepted but decided to at least go put your stuff in your husbands office before you left.

Capitano is a little confused when you walk in absolutely drenched of sweat but just decides you’ll probably talk about it tonight when you’re both laying in bed and continues to work on a few papers.

“Apologies,” You let out a breathy laugh, putting down any bags you brought to work that morning. “I just finished sparring with Childe, and he’s taking me out for lunch. I’ll be back later.”

He doesn’t say anything and you just sigh, already knowing not to expect anything.

From the top of the castle, Pierro and The Tsaritsa watch as you and Childe run away from the castle, clutching onto your coats for dear life from the harsh, cold wind.

“So, what’s the plan here?” He asked, “Pardon my forwardness but I truly am confused.”

She just grinned. “Well, first I asked that Childe were to spar with her and take her out to lunch, which I truly hope makes Capitano the slightest bit jealous. Then upon her return, Pantalone will magically return from the gardens with a rose and give it to her and she’ll go back to her office and tell Capitano about her day and he’ll realize and get jealous and fuck her.”

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I did not need to know that last part. And if that doesn’t work?”

“A god always has another plan.”

You and Childe are at lunch for about 2 hours; really it would’ve been shorter but you and Childe were BOTH insane talkers so naturally you were there for a long time.

Returning to the castle, Pantalone was seen emerging from the gardens holding a few roses and Childe, for some reason, took that as his queue to wish you his goodbyes and hurry away.

“Good afternoon, Lord Pantalone.” You bowed and he just chuckled.

“No need for pleasantries, Y/N. Here,” He handed you a rose and your eyes were full of surprise as you took it.

You became rather flustered, beginning to stutter. “O-oh, thank you! It’s beautiful.”

“Just for a beautiful girl like you.” He winked and you giggled.

“I’ll be off to give these to Signora. Have a lovely day, Y/N.” He smiled before making his way down the hall, and in seconds he was gone.

You stared down at the rose, feeling giddy. You’d never even received flowers- not even when you got married! Your wedding day wasn’t really even a wedding, instead Pierro officially declaring for you two to be wed and well, that was it.

You practically skipped back to your office, ready to tell your husband all about your day.

~~

“So this morning I got here and the MOMENT I did Childe magically found me and asked me if I wanted to spar! and I was like hesitant because the last time we sparred he like literally almost killed me but he promised he’d go easy on me and he sortaaaa didn’t so he decided he’d take me out to lunch and we were there for like 2 hours just talking and he was so king enough to pay for both! then we got back and Pantalone gave me a rose and he did so with such a sweet compliment! Isn’t that sweet?”

Your husband was not phased by your sudden burst and continued to work, just nodding at everything every few seconds.

“That’s nice.” He murmured, continuing to work- seriously what the hell was he working on for so long?!

You frowned, expecting a little bit more, but at this point it was stupid to expect something from him that now you were a little angry but mostly sad.

You glanced at the rose you had put down in a vase within the room and sighed. “Do you really not care? Are you seriously not jealous?”

His movements paused.

“Like, a man literally just took me out to lunch for 2 hours and practically spent the first half of the day with me, and then another man gives me a rose and tells me I’m as beautiful as it is and you don’t say anything?! I know this is just an arranged marriage but- but I would’ve thought that…maybe you loved me as much as I love you.”

You waited for him to say something, expecting just anything, but that’s the thing with expecting-

You’re met with nothing.

Sighing, you bowed down to him. “My…apologies for overlooking this marriage…my lord. I’ll return to work.” You grimaced acknowledging him so formally, but maybe that was for the best.

You turned around, rushing out of the room before he could say anything, but mostly so he wouldn’t see your tears threatening to pour out.

When the door closed behind you, you let the tears fall as you ran through the dark halls of the castle, trying to find anywhere to hide in.

You made your way to the lounge, happy it was empty as you took a seat on the comfy couch, dragging a hand down your face while also wiping your tears.

Archons, how would you even return home to him tonight? It would be absolutely awkward to have to lay in bed beside him after that outburst.

For the first time, you dreaded having to return home. You loved the warmth he brought whenever you two lay beside each other, and it was even better when he held you.

That made you cry more- how could someone as distant as him, be so soft towards you and hold you when he doesn’t even love you?!

“You know when I heard you and Capitano were getting married I was like- no way.”

You jumped at the sudden voice and somehow, you hadn’t even noticed Signora was sitting beside you and you yelped as you quickly stood up, bowing down.

“M-my lady! I’m so sorry I was just lea-“

“You’re not going anywhere.” She shook her head, patting her hand down on the seat you were just on.

You sighed, realizing you genuinely couldn’t disobey her and sat beside her. You took in her words, “you weren’t the only one; everyone else was shocked.”

“Do you ever think the Tsaritsa was wrong in her choice?” she asked.

You frowned. “In full honesty, I trust her majesty, but maybe this was something she didn’t look into with all her might. It just…doesn’t seem to be working out.”

Signora leaned back into the couch, deciding to get comfy and you took that as a sign to do the same. “Have I ever told you about my lover?”

You shook your head.

“God, 500 years ago. A bit more, actually. He was handsome, amazing, annoying- he honestly reminded me a bit of Capitano. Sure he talked a bit more but I was the talker in our relationship. However, then the cataclysm happened and…look at me now.”

You frowned, looking at her sadly. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” She smiled sadly, “No matter how much they don’t talk or how much they don’t seem to focus on you or anything, take into consideration that they’re willing to be there. It’s difficult, to find love especially in so many circumstances, but love is everywhere. I see it with you two, and I know. I know you two can make it.”

You glanced down at her lap to find a rose.

You looked back up at her. “What should I do?”

“Force him to talk.” She laughed. “A man as big as him also has a big heart. Seriously, cry In front of him and he’ll become puddy and do everything for you. He made a child cry once and he almost cried.”

You both broke out into fits of giggles, you trying to imagine that and her remembering it.

“Thank you.” You smiled at her, “Permission to-“

“Just go,” She waved her hand, rolling her eyes. “You don’t need my permission.”

With one final smile, you quickly got up, rushing to make your way back to his office and force him to talk.

Emerging from behind a wall was the Tsaritsa, who stood behind her friend. “How was it?”

“They’re so fucking.” Signora grinned.

~~

You opened the door to his office, but was met with him standing right in front of it, hand hovering in the air.

You practiced what you were going to say to him, but now having him standing right in front of you- literally towering over you- you had no idea what to say.

However, he out his hands up to his helmet, forcing it off and just throwing it to the side and you were met with his glossy eyes.

“I’m sorry,” He sniffed, moving his fingers up to rub at his eyes. “I love your rambles- archons I live for them. Every morning when I wake up, I can’t wait to to hear you talk about what your so excited for throughout the day and at night, I can’t wait to hear how your day was. I love you, my dear. I know I don’t…express it much, but I do. So much.”

Tears started to well up in your eyes once again. “Cap…”

“I’ll prove it to you.” He breathed out, a hand making its way to cup your cheek to wipe away a falling rear before he leaned down, connecting his lips with yours so passionately, but most importantly, it was full of love.

He deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue in and you let out a whimper as your knees buckled, and he was quick to wrap an arm around your waist, holding you up right before he decided to just pick you up and you yelped, breaking the kiss as he carried you over to his desk, pushing everything off and ignoring the sound of the vase with the rose breaking- instead he smiled at it.

Down the hall, Pantalone, Childe, Pierro, Signora and the Tsaritsa were all grinning.

“They are one hundred percent fucking.” Childe laughed as they all high-fived each other- expect Pierro, who just walked away with a sigh.

[nofingjustaninchident]

i need marriage au jason so bad, he’d be such a good hubby

ᯓ★ next to you

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

pairing jason grace x fem!reader

summary just jason being the most awesome lovey dovey person in the world and you breaking down

warnings angst/comfort, a little too fluffy

authors note is that… me??? posting again??? i’m in shock. literally this ask is from my jason event almost three months ago i’m so so sorry

now listening to die with a smile by bruno mars and lady gaga

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Jason spent the day at home, enjoying the peace and quiet of their cozy apartment. He’d gotten up early, tidied the place, and then decided to surprise y/n with something special. He knew how stressful her job could be, and he wanted to make her happy, especially if she had a rough day.  

He wanted to do something that would bring a smile to her face the moment she walked through the door. After a bit of thought, he decided to bake her favorite cookies - soft, gooey, and loaded with chocolate chips. He remembered how much she loved them, especially when they were fresh out of the oven, still warm and melty. 

As he knew that she’d take a little while to get home, he decided to walk down the street to their favorite flower shop. He bought a bouquet of her favorite flowers. After, he went to the store and bought everything they needed for the week so she didn’t have to worry about doing it later, and walked back home.  

As the evening approached, he baked the cookies and made sure they were just the way she likes it. When he heard the key turning in the lock, he was pulling the last batch out from the oven.  

y/n stepped inside; her shoulders were slumped with exhaustion. The weight of the day was evident in her eyes, and Jason’s heart ached to see her like that. But as soon as she looked up and saw him standing there, holding the tray of freshly baked cookies, her expression changed. 

He gave her an awkward smile as he put the tray on the counter, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, you’re early. I didn’t have time to clean the house, but I restocked the things we needed and I-” he said, smiling as he grabbed the bouquet and offered it to her. “bought you flowers.”  

“Surprise,” he murmured, his voice soft and full of warmth. He gave her the biggest, brightest smile, hoping it would lift her spirits. 

y/n was frozen for a moment, her eyes welling up with tears. The sight of Jason, the scent of the cookies, the flowers and the sheer love behind something so trivial - it was too much. The stress, the frustration, the exhaustion - all of it came crashing down at once. 

Without a word, she dropped her bag and rushed into his arms, burying her face in his chest as the tears finally spilled over. Jason wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as she cried, whispering soothing words into her hair.  

He didn’t quite understand why she was crying, but he just held her close. “Hey, it’s okay. I've got you.”  

Her sobs were muffled against his shirt, but Jason could feel the tension in her body slowly melting away as she clung to him. He rocked her gently, letting her release all the emotions she had been holding in throughout the day. 

After a few moments, y/n pulled back slightly, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. She looked up at Jason, her cheeks flushed and eyes red from crying, but there was a small, grateful smile on her lips. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice shaky but sincere. “You have no idea how much this means to me.” 

He cupped her cheeks, squeezing her face and kissing her forehead, then her nose, then his lips. “You’ll never have to thank me for this. I'm your husband. And, just like I said in that altar two years ago, I'm with you for better or worse, sickness or health. It doesn't matter if you’re having the worst or the best day of your life. I just want to make it better, always.”  

She let out a watery laugh and kissed him, the salty taste of tears mixing to their mouths. When they finally broke apart, she kept their foreheads touching for a little while and pecked his lips one more time.  

“My days are always better when I'm with you.” She muttered.  

[hannieehaee]

DOES HE KNOW ? (teaser)

18+ / mdi

summary: after being friends with lee chan for a good portion of your life, the boy you considered nothing but your best friend suddenly starts acting different, making you slowly fall for him. problem is, you have a boyfriend.

content: friends2lovers!chan, reader has a bf, almost cheating but not actually, afab reader, smut, oral (f receiving), wet dream (this is actually a huge point in the plot lol), masturbation (f receiving), dry humping, more oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.

(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)

wc: 1k (teaser); 9.8k (full fic)

release date: april 17th

or you can check it out on my ko-fi or patreon today by subscribing to either one!

a/n: rewrote this so many times but finally finished it!! i love writing channie so i hope u guys enjoy<3

masterlist

support me through a one time tip<3

Something was clearly wrong with you.

Was Lee Chan hot?

Nothing made sense anymore, and it had been the case for a while.

You could date it back to some months ago, at one of Soonyoung's usual gatherings. This had been where it all began, or more so, where it all ended.

For some reason unknown to man, that was the day in which Chan began courting you (his words, not yours).

After years of a solid friendship between the two of you, a not-so tipsy Chan cornered you at aforementioned party and began dancing with you. This was a common occurrence between the two of you. Despite having been taken for the past few months, you were still quite liberal about your touchy relationship with your best friend. However, what happened next what was truly out of the ordinary.

"Hey," he had whispered against your ear.

"Yeah?", you giggled, entertained by the boy.

"Wanna know a secret?"

"Sure."

"I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you," and with that, the dam had broken.

You froze against his arms, eyes widening. Though he could not see, as you were holding each other far too close to make eye contact.

Maybe he was drunk?

He interrupted you before you could respond. Chan pulled away from you to look into your eyes with a fully sober look in his face.

"I'm not drunk, and I know you have a boyfriend. And I know you only see me as a friend. But give me a few weeks, and I'll change both those things," was the last thing he said before giving you a peck on the cheek (yet another common thing in your relationship) and walking away with a confident sway in his step.

Ever since then, you had been bombarded by romantic gestures from your former best friend – former because you truly had no idea how you felt about him by this point.

Chan bought you flowers, – even when it was raining – had your favorite beverage at hand any time you so happened to see him, tied your shoelaces should they ever come undone, plucked loose eyelashes from your cheeks, tucked your hair behind your ear, placed his hand at the small of your back before crossing a street, walked you to and from home, looked at you with an indescribable sweetness in his eye, he ... He did everything any girl would need to be completely swooned (and then some).

You were beyond confused as to when this change had come about. As far as you knew, you were nothing more than best friends. When had Chan even begun liking you? What had changed?

"Oh. He's always had a thing for you," was what your mutual friend Soonyoung said when you first brought it up.

"What do you mean? We've been friends for years, he's never-"

"Yeah, duh. You never showed interest, what was he supposed to do? But yeah, he's crazy about you," added Seungkwan, sipping his drink nonchalantly.

You had decided to meet up with some of your mutual friends while Chan was at work. You needed at least five minutes with your other friends without Chan getting in the way with his flirting.

"It's kinda sick, actually," interjected Soonyoung once more.

You remained quiet for a while, thinking back to every interaction you'd ever had with Chan that may have revealed his feelings for you. Unfortunately, you kept drawing blanks all the while Soonyoung stole fries from your plate, disregarding your confusion at the situation.

"But why now?", you finally asked, slapping his meddling hand away from your food.

He shrugged, "Maybe he got fed up of watching you with that guy."

"He has a name, Soonyou-"

"None of us really care enough to learn it."

That much was true. None of your friends were fans of your current boyfriend. Or of any of them, to be quite frank. You had certain lack of skill at picking them, though this time around you felt confident about your current relationship. He was nice and respectful. Maybe a little bit of a square, but you liked to think you brought out the fun in him. This was also the longest relationship you'd ever had, giving you the grand total of three months in a exclusive relationship and a month and a half of a very prolonged talking stage that took place before he ever asked you out officially.

"Is this because I've been taken for longer than usual?", you tried to assert.

"Oh! That might be it, huh?", Soonyoung agreed.

"Well, I guess he didn't want you to break your streak of failed relationships," chuckled Kwan.

With a slap to his chest, you dropped the subject, deciding to ignore the slight acceleration of your heart any time you thought about Chan's crush for too long.

At first you found it to be a bit of a joke, but his affections quickly began to wear you down. It also didn't help how blatant he was about it, constantly flirting up a storm around your friends, not caring for their amused smiles at your flustered half-rejections of his advances. The only times in which he held back were the rare occasions in which your boyfriend would join your friend group in their outings. He could be reserved at times, not really clicking with your loud friends, so his presence was not a common thing.

Being honest, you felt kind of bad at the genuine excitement Chan's crush gave you. Though you weren't sure of your feelings for him at this point, his interest flustered you tremendously. You'd always known him as a pretty and charming guy, despite never really acknowledging such things. You understood why he got so much attention from girls, though you never thought too much of it. He was your best friend, you never had any motive to consider anything further than platonic feelings for him. But now that you were questioning your feelings, you felt as if you were kind of betraying your boyfriend.

Not to misunderstand, you had no desire of pursuing anything with anyone while you were in a committed relationship. You were just not that kind of person. But the mere thought of blushing at the words of a guy who wasn't yours (all while actually having a guy of your own) made you feel ashamed. Specially considering that you already had a very grand preexisting fondness for the guy in question.

God damn you, Lee Chan.

...

read today on ko-fi or patreon by subscribing to either one<3

[riveroftales]

request:

can you write a letter by Genya to his lover (us)?

❀❀❀❀❀❀ 𝙰𝚍𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 ❀❀❀❀❀❀

ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴘʀᴇ-ᴇsᴛᴀʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴍᴀʀʀɪᴀɢᴇ + ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀᴅᴜʟᴛs

𝖢𝖢'𝗌 𝖭𝗈𝗍𝖾: I’m really sorry. I couldn’t resist🥹🙏

「𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓, 𝐍𝐎 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓」

Hello, Y/n!

How are you doing, My Love? I know you’re over at your family’s, but I can’t help but worry. I’m just really nervous for you and our little girl. The hashira training is going well. I do miss you though! It’s cold without you next to me.

Tanjiro made me spend more time with his other friends. There’s a weird kid who seems obsessed with Tanjiro’s little sister Nezuko, and a guy who wears a boar head. The two can NOT stop screaming, but it’s nice. It feels full in one way, almost like if I was lost, as long as I can hear their bicker, I know I’d be safe. Like, I’m not really alone. I still miss you a lot. I’m not alone, but I feel a bit lonely without you.

I went to Lady Kocho’s estate for my annual checkup. Did you know Aoi’s growing vegetables? She promised that she’ll let me take some back to you when I’m done with training! I’m at the last stage, so I promise I’ll be over as soon as I can! I’ll make all the food, as much as you want. You already do so much just by simply carrying our baby girl and I’m so proud of you. I can’t even believe it myself. Our little baby will be here with us in less than 2 months.

I really regret being unable to stay with you through this stage. I wish I could hold your hair back when you have morning sickness, and despite how much I complain about it myself, I miss massaging your feet. Make sure to stay in bed rest like you’re supposed to!

The demon attacks have significantly reduced, and although it leaves a lot of time for us to train and grow stronger, I can’t sleep properly. I’m scared, My Love. I wish I was there to protect you. Remember the thunders? I still think about it a lot. It was one of the first nights we spent together. You were so scared and clung to me. I think that triggered something in me to a point I feel discomfort when I’m not with you at all times. I wish I could be of arm’s length to you.

I’m going to finish this entire thing as soon as I can. I had to run a few errands recently during one of my breaks, and I came across a shop which sold the most adorable baby clothes. I want to go to it with you before all the good stuff is taken. Imagine our little baby running around in a red kimono as tiny as hers.

It’s late right now, and I’m really tired. I’m saving all the stories so I can tell them to you when I come back. I’m going to go to bed, My Love. Remember, I’m away physically, but I’m still with you. We’re under the same stars.

Goodnight, Y/n. I love you so much, forever and always. Please tell our baby that her papa also loves her beyond worlds and he’s really sorry he can’t be there to tell her himself. I really love you two. Sleep tight♥︎

Your One and Only Darling Husband

Genya Shinazugawa

How many times have you read that same letter? Too many times. You lost count. But it wasn’t enough, somehow.

You read it again so many times you memorised the whole thing. Hell, you even wrote it down so many times you perfected his handwriting on it.

You just missed him so much.

“Ma.”

A tiny hand touched your cheek where a fresh tear was rolling on.

You looked down and looked at your 1 year old daughter, Hana, gazing up at you with her father’s eyes. It was so funny how the way she looked at you was exactly the same as how Genya looked at you.

“Hey, baby.” You smiled, quickly wiping your tears before kissing her forehead. “Sorry.. mama just misses papa so much.”

Hana toyed with your kimono slightly. She took interest in the smooth silk.

You leaned back on the pillar of the porch on your backyard of the house you and Genya purchased when you two were newlyweds. The night sky was pretty, and luckily enough, the stars were all visible.

“Hana, baby.” You kissed your daughter’s cheek to get her attention before gently turning around and slowly guiding her head up, letting her look at the stars.

“Whenever your papa was away, he always said that he was never truly away because we were under the same stars. Smart, isn’t he?” You smiled. Hana was gazing at the stars with her mouth slightly ajar in awe, her gaze fixed on one particular star which shone brighter.

“You see that? That star?” You whispered quietly. “That’s papa. He’s up there, looking over us~ As long as he’s there, we’re safe.” Tears started to fill your eyes again, but you fought them back. “He loved us so much that he became a star so he could protect us. Heroic, isn’t it?”

You turned your daughter to face you again before cradling her against your chest.

“Your uncle, Sanemi..” you grunted slightly as you stood up and started walking inside. “He’s coming over tomorrow. He’s going to tell you all about your father~ So get some rest, okay?”

It barely took any effort to lull your baby to sleep. You simply bounced her a bit and she was out cold.

Hana had her own separate crib, but in the same room as yours. You kept her warm and all snuggled up in her blankets before getting in the futon yourself.

You read Genya’s letter from habit. It had become a tradition to do so every night, and let one singular tear fall on the paper.

You read the letter for the nth time as the nth tear fell on the paper.

“Damn right you’re my one and only…”

[hellodropbear]

Drawing.

mapi leon x ingrid engen x child

this is based off two requests so I hope you enjoy!

please keep sending requests I’m loving writing them :)

~~~~~~

Elena was with Camila when it happened, completely unaware of what was happening down on the training pitch. 

She had been drawing all day, a new hobby she had picked up, trying to copy Mapi as she sketched in her notepad. 

And as usual, Isabel wanted to be just like her Mami, so she had picked up a dropped pencil and started drawing on a receipt she found on the floor. 

Ingrid would have thought she had found the new Picasso, the way Mapi was cheering. 

"My baby is an artist!" It was the first time Isabel had drawn without being prompted. It was a circle on the receipt, with lots of lines in the middle, but Mapi couldn't have been prouder. 

Isabel lived off Mapi's pride so she told Camila she wanted to practice her drawing that day and they had done just that, sat in the same spot - shaded from the sun but still outside - and drawing since she had been dropped off. 

Isabel had just finished a drawing when it happened, although she had no idea, holding up the page and waving it in front of her babysitter to see. 

"It's me! And Mami and Ingrid!" She pointed at the yellow blob with four legs. "And this is the puppy I want! I asked santa for a puppy this year, Camila."

Camila smiled, staring at the page intently. 

"It's so good, Isabel! You're getting so good!"

She smiled proudly, trying to stop herself from grinning to much but entirely unable to shake off how good she felt from the praise. 

"Thank you, Camila." She replied quietly, swinging her legs beneath her on the seat. "Your drawing is good too!"

The blonde looked down at her own piece of paper, somehow the cat she had been drawing was worse than the toddler's sketch of her family. She laughed, shaking her head. 

"Not as good as yours though."

Isabel blushed awkwardly, not wanting to be rude but also not wanting to lie. 

"We are both good." She nodded, proud of her decision to say that. 

~~~~~~

Mapi had fallen harshly, hitting the ground with a deafening thud after landing awkwardly on her knee. 

The scream she released was almost chilling and the training field fell silent immediately, time stopping as the medics raced over to the groaning defender. 

It was the most pain she had ever been in, physically, and she had given birth to a full child not long ago. It was excruciating and she couldn't stop the tears in her eyes from slipping down her cheeks and onto the grass. 

She winced as they poked and prodded at her knee, quickly coming to the conclusion that she would not be walking off the pitch and getting out the stretcher to get her to the medical room. 

It was as she was being lifted that she saw both Ingrid and Alexia standing over her, worry etched deep into their features. Their worry made Mapi feel sick to her stomach, because it meant there was actually something wrong. 

It wasn't just in her head like she had been silently praying for. It was real. 

The prospect of missing out on another chunk of her career was almost sickening, and the thought of having to go through that intensive physiotherapy program after a knee injury was almost worse. 

But nobody had mentioned an acl yet, so she thought she was ok. 

Surely there aren't many other serious knee injuries that can take you out for so long, right?

Except Frido had a knee surgery not three months ago and she is far off her return. And there are so many other people who have had knee injuries that aren't acls - injuries that have forced them to retire. 

She banished the word from her mind as soon as it appeared. It wouldn't be that bad, surely?

But as much as she tried, the thought that it might be the end simply would not leave her brain, taunting her as she became more and more hysterical in the physio bed. 

It was only when she was loaded up into the ambulance that she began to question the whereabouts of her daughter, wondering why she hadn't been brought over as soon as Mapi had asked. 

The staff said they would sort it out, only one of them stepping into the ambulance with Mapi, the rest hanging back at the facility as the ambulance drove away, an inconsolable Mapi laying in the back. 

"It's just a knee, please, just go back and get Isabel!" 

They had shaken their heads, apologising and telling her that she would see the toddler soon. 

~~~~~~

She was confused when it was Alexia who accompanied Ingrid to come get her, because usually Mapi was the first person she saw when their training was over and they could go home. 

She was confused by the look on their faces, almost anxious, both looking sad. 

"Hey Is." Alexia ruffled her hair as she put her pencils down, observing the pictures in front of her. 

"Where's Mami? I want to show her my drawings!"

She brandished two of the pieces of paper towards the blonde, who smiled sadly and knelt down beside her goddaughter. 

"Mami fell over in training today." 

Isabel frowned. 

"Mami always falls over! It's so silly, Ale, she's always on the ground!" 

Her frown was quickly replaced by giggles, picturing her mother falling over all the time, something she would usually laugh about after the game. 

Alexia nodded, her smile diminishing. 

"It was a bad fall, Is, Mami had to go to the hospital."

The toddler's face switched again, back to her frown. The hospital is big and scary, where you go when you're really really sick or really really injured. 

People die in the hospital, when they're sick enough to be taken there. 

Her lip trembled. 

"Is Mami dying?" 

She started to whimper and Alexia was quick to draw her into a hug. 

"No! No, Mami is going to be ok, Isa, she just has a sore knee! She will be completely fine soon, she just wants to see you."

Isabel nodded, sniffling quietly. 

"Can we see Mami?"

She looked up at Ingrid behind Alexia, who nodded easily. 

"That's where we're going now, Is. We're going to see Mami."

Camila, who had been busily packing away their drawing tools, said a quick goodbye to the trio, smiling as Ingrid thanked her and walking out, waving goodbye to Isabel as she was hoisted onto Alexia's hip. 

The toddler was quiet as they drove across the city, her fingers tight around the pieces of paper that Camila had left on the table as she stared out the window until the car parked. 

Her spare hand was used to grip onto Ingrid's as they got out of the car, walking into the big and crowded building. They had to wait for a bit before they could see Mapi, so Isabel sat herself on Ingrid's lap, relishing in the comfort that the Norwegian's arms gave her as she held her close. 

Her hand remained tight in Ingrid's as they were finally allowed to go see Mapi, slowly trailing behind as Alexia opened the door. 

But Mapi only had eyes for her daughter, lighting up slightly as she spotted the curly brunette head tucked away behind Ingrid's leg. 

"Isabel, come here." She smiled as the little face popped out from behind the leg, looking around anxiously before stepping forward and hesitantly standing beside Mapi's bed. 

It was when she was lifted up to sit beside Mapi that she started crying, big and terrified sobs wracking her entire body. 

It was so scary for someone so little, seeing her mother so sad and weak in the hospital bed, her usually bright features dulled and her usually enthusiastic voice more sullen. 

The hospital was so big and the room was smelly. Mapi was sick and there was nothing Isabel could do about it.

So she cried into her mother's arms, scared about what was going to happen and scared about where she was. 

"It's ok, it's ok." Mapi tried to reassure her daughter. "I'll be ok, Is. it'll all be ok."

It was a few minutes before Isabel calmed down, wiping her eyes and taking a deep breath, holding out the little drawings she had chosen to bring. 

"You did more drawings?"

Mapi smiled excitedly, like a child on Christmas morning about to open all her presents. 

Isabel nodded, pointing at the first one. 

"Me and you, and Ingrid." She pointed at the yellow blob again. "My doggy."

The Spaniard shook her head, smiling and planting a kiss on the top of Isabel's head. 

"What about Bagheera?"

Isabel shrugged. 

"My doggy is more important."

Ingrid, on the other side of the room was taking deep and controlled breaths, much to Alexia's amusement. 

Maybe a month ago now, they had been on their daily walk in the park and Isabel had seen a little puppy, a baby golden retriever and had fallen in love. 

Thankfully, the owner was nice and allowed the toddler to pet her dog, but Ingrid had stood there with silent frustration on her face because unlike Mapi, she knew they were going to have to deal with a dog obsessed three year old for the foreseeable future. 

And she was right, because every day since, Isabel had asked over and over when she was going to get her puppy, even writing it in her note to santa as Ingrid had been her scribe, silently fuming at the inane request. 

But while the Norwegian had been reasonable and realistic, Mapi had been overly enthusiastic at the idea of a new puppy running around the apartment, clearly forgetting that they had an excited toddler and cat to deal with already.

They had taken the argument to training, Ingrid shooting daggers at her girlfriend as she complained about Ingrid stealing Isabel's childhood happiness by refusing the puppy, targeting the younger girls when she was asking who thought a golden retriever would be a good idea. 

The brunette didn't want Isabel to be sad, but she just didn’t think it was a good idea.

Mapi on the other hand thought a puppy would be the best possible addition to their family. 

"Your doggy is so important." The Spaniard pointedly smiled at Ingrid, who rolled her eyes and shook her head. 

~~~~~~

Isabel was happy in Mapi's lap as the doctors returned with the news. 

Mapi was even more happy to have her daughter to hold onto as she received the news that she absolutely did not want to hear. 

She allowed a single tear to slip from her eyes, before wiping them and smiling. 

Nobody has died, she realised. Everyone she loves is alright, everyone she loves is happy. 

Since the death of her best friend, Mapi has found that her reaction to bad news has become a lot more positive, learning to look on the bright side. 

There's always a silver lining to every cloud, no matter how dark. 

The dark cloud that came with Luis' death came with a blindingly bright silver lining - her baby daughter. 

This injury would no doubt come with one too, but she has to give it time to figure out exactly what that might be. 

Because everyone is ok. 

Everything will be ok. 

And when Isabel stood up beside her, bending down to wrap her arms around Mapi's neck, planting a kiss on her cheek and wiping away the singular stray tear, she realised that she had everything she possibly needed right there. 

Alexia could see that too. She knew Mapi would be ok which is why she felt it was alright for her to leave, to go home. 

Unlike last time she was in that bed, the centre back was happy. She had Isabel, she had Ingrid. She had what she needed and it was so clear how appreciative she was of her two girls. 

So Alexia placed a kiss on Mapi's head, gave Isabel a cuddle and Ingrid a hug and she drove back home, disappointed with the news but perfectly certain that her best friend would be alright. 

Mapi was allowed home that night, so long as she used her crutches until the surgery in two days. It meant not really moving except to go to the bathroom and to move between her bedroom and the lounge room but they would make do. 

Ingrid could live upstairs in the Spaniard's apartment for a bit to make sure Isabel was alright. To look after Mapi who wouldn't be able to look after herself. 

"Ok, Is. Mami has to be careful with her crutches now." Ingrid took the toddler's hand, using her spare hand to help Mapi up and onto the crutches. 

Isabel looked on wearily. It was weird, seeing that her Mami couldn't really walk. The toddler had always seen her mother as such a strong and brave woman, it was hard to see her so helpless. 

Her face remained downtrodden until Mapi used the end of one of her crutches to softly nudge the back of Isabel's head, smiling and winking when the toddler turned around in shock. 

"Mami!" She giggled softly, her spare hand coming up to cover her mouth to hide the laughs. 

"What? I didn't do anything!" 

She laughed more, shaking her head and leaning into Ingrid's leg. 

"Mami is so silly, Ingrid!" 

The Norwegian chuckled, agreeing with a nod. 

~~~~~~

It was only the second time that Isabel had slept over at Ingrid's place, the last time was when Mapi had driven all the way to Zaragoza overnight just to surprise her father on father's day.

She liked it though because there was no spare room which meant she could sleep in Ingrid's bed with Ingrid all night.

And after the scary day, she was in desperate need of some serious cuddles.

They had to wake up early in the morning for the surgery but Isabel had fallen asleep in the car journey there, only waking up in Ingrid's arms once they had entered the hospital.

Mapi was back in that hospital gown, her face void of piercings and the little beaded necklaces that they had made together a few months ago. She forced a weak smile on her face as Isabel looked at her, trying to reassure her daughter that she was ok, that everything would be ok soon.

The toddler wasn't convinced, burying her head in Ingrid's neck and mumbling incoherently about being scared.

She remained put in the Norwegian's arms as her mother was rolled into the operating room and as they waited for the doctor to bring them the good news once it was all done.

Even when Mapi was back in the regular hospital room, she clung onto Ingrid, worried that she would hurt her mother even more if she touched her.

But when she woke up, all Mapi wanted was to see her daughter, to see she was ok.

"My lion cub." She mumbled groggily, her eyes only half open but able to see where Isabel was sat, her eyes darting anxiously around the room. "Come here, Is. I missed you."

Dutifully, the child walked over to her bedside, hesitantly placing her hand in Mapi's outstretched one.

"Hello Mami." She frowned at her mother's pale complexion, quickly retracting her hand from her mother's cold one.

"Hey, hey. Come back, Is. I'm alright, see! Just a bit tired, that's all."

She looked up uncertainly, watching as Mapi shuffled over and patted the space beside her.

"Here, come on. I need my girl." She smiled down at Isabel, who bit her lip and slowly climbed up onto the bed.

"I love you Mami." She lay her head on Mapi's chest, her legs to the side of her. "I don't like that you're sick."

Mapi just smiled, chuckling lightly.

"I don't like that I'm sick either, Is. I love you too."

Isabel smiled easily, her worries squashed as Mapi drifted back to sleep.

Ingrid joined them quickly after Mapi fell asleep, sitting on the armchair on her other side and promptly falling asleep with her hand holding Mapi's arm, clearly exhausted from the stress of the day.

Isabel wasn't far behind, drifting off easily in the safety of Ingrid and Mapi.

It was what the Spaniard woke up to not long later, both of her girls right there with her, fast asleep but somehow still comforting her, still reassuring her that everything would be alright.

It was the first time she had been in a hospital bed but so sure that everything would be ok.

As long as she had her two girls, everything would be perfectly fine. 

She remained certain as she said goodbye to them later that evening, watching as Isabel held Ingrid's hand tightly as they walked out of the room and headed home. 

And Isabel was sure that everything would be alright later that night, warm in Ingrid's arms as they both wondered how Mapi was doing. 

~~~~~~

The next few days were a whirlwind of emotions for the whole family. 

Ingrid was hovering, so Mapi told her to go back to her apartment for the night. She regretted it of course, she missed the Norwegian as soon as the door closed behind her. 

Isabel didn't know what to do now that her routine had changed so much. 

There was no more going to training because she could just stay home with Mapi. 

Except her mother had just had a surgery and was exhausted, always sleeping and if she wasn't sleeping she was too tired to move, too tired to entertain Isabel, no matter how hard she tried. 

There were no more bedtime stories or bedtime cuddles. Mapi couldn't move enough to get off the sofa, let alone down onto the floor of Isabel's room where she used to kneel. 

Instead, the toddler got her cuddles on the sofa and Ingrid would tuck her in and read the story. 

But Ingrid's Spanish wasn't very good, and her voices weren't as funny as Mapi's. 

She struggled to sleep for the first few nights, feeling worried, feeling sad. 

Mapi struggled to sleep because she had been sleeping all day and when night fell she was suddenly overcome with an intense guilt that she couldn't care for herself or her child; that Isabel had to sit around all day just playing with the cat for entertainment. 

The toddler tried the bedroom first, expecting to see Mapi and Ingrid asleep in there like usual. Her lion was in her arms, ready to curl up between them and fall fast asleep, comforted by their warm bodies. 

But the bed was empty and made perfectly, so she continued down into the lounge room where she had said goodnight to Mapi a few hours earlier. 

She didn't expect for Mapi to still be lying on the sofa and she didn't expect her to be wide awake, staring straight ahead in the distance. 

"Mami." Isabel got her attention, the Spaniard's eyes immediately softening as they fell on her daughter.

"Hey Is. Come here.” She patted the sofa beside her, noticing the toddler's hesitancy. 

She nodded, smiling weakly and running over to jump up on the sofa, immediately snuggling into Mapi's side. 

"What are you doing awake, my lion cub?" 

She wrapped her arm around Isabel's small form, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. 

"Couldn't sleep, Mami." Her voice was quiet, muffled by the fabric of Mapi's shirt. 

"It's alright. You can sleep right here with me."

The child fell asleep quickly and Mapi wasn't far behind. 

It was how Ingrid found them the next morning, wrapped up in each others arms on the sofa.

Not wanting to disturb the peace, she quickly began cleaning up around the house, putting everything away before getting started on some breakfast. 

Isabel woke up first, the scent of pancakes cooking enough to rouse her, her eyes snapping over to the kitchen where Ingrid was stood, her back facing the toddler. 

"Ingrid!" She smiled softly, unwrapping her body from Mapi's arm and hopping off the sofa, walking over towards the Norwegian who spun around at the sound of the toddler’s voice.

"Morning Is. Sleep well?"

She shook her head, leaning into Ingrid's leg.

"Couldn't sleep, so Mami helped me."

The Norwegian frowned, using her spare hand to stroke Isabel's head. 

"That's nice of her. Do you want the first pancake?"

She nodded easily, grinning as the small pancake was handed to her and eating it quickly. 

"Should I wake up Mami for breakfast?"

Ingrid hesitated, softly shaking her head after a moments thought. 

"No, Mami is still tired. We can make her some pancakes when she wakes up and I'll let you decorate them with the fruits that she likes, alright?"

Isabel nodded sadly, resting her head on Ingrid's leg and palming the hem of her shorts. 

"When will Mami be better?"

"Soon, Is. She'll be better soon."

~~~~~~

Isabel was relatively quiet as she ate her pancakes, barely consuming half of them before she pushed the plate back to Ingrid who stood up and took it, placing a kiss on the crown of her head. 

She was worried about her, to be honest, and had half a mind to take her to training and get Camila to watch her. 

Mapi was a good mother, that was never a doubt, but Ingrid began to question whether it was good for Isabel to stay inside all day with her as she fell in and out of sleep, unable to get up from the sofa without help. 

But bringing up that issue to the Spaniard would send her down a long spiral of self doubt and upset, so she made the decision to leave it, instead deciding to just come back as soon as training was over and seeing what she could do. 

The problem was, as Mapi woke up and Ingrid tried to leave, Isabel seemed set on going with the Norwegian, her backpack full of colouring and some snacks she gathered from the cupboard, her shoes on and her bedroom tidy. 

"Is, you're staying here today, staying here with Mami." Ingrid knelt down, brushing the hair from her face. "And you'll be good for her and give her all the cuddles she needs until I get back in a few hours, alright?"

She shook her head, frowning. 

"I draw! With Camila!" 

Mapi sighed quietly from the sofa, intervening. 

"Camila's not there today because you can stay at home with me!" She mustered on a smile and Isabel looked up at her, nodding sadly. 

"Ingrid will be right back after training though, you're not stuck here with me for too long."

The Norwegian could practically hear Mapi's heart break, she was already thrown deep into the pool of self-consciousness and doubt. It was as if a single word could change her whole perspective and Ingrid had seen the clear flip over and over again. 

And the self-doubts that Mapi carried would never be understood or accepted by Ingrid, who spent every day trying to subtly prove to her that she was a good mother, that Isabel loved her. 

This incident wouldn't support all the progress she's made. 

"Is, go give Mami a hug alright? I'll be back soon." Ingrid smoothed out the toddler's hair, nudging her softly towards the sofa and watching as the child jumped on and lay down, resting her head on Mapi's shirt. 

The Spaniard's arm snaked back around the child, her spare hand waving at Ingrid as she walked out the door, her attention turning back to her daughter on her lap as soon as the door was closed. 

"I'm sorry I'm not very fun at the moment, Is. And I'm sorry that we can't go to training like usual, I know how much you like your days with Camila."

Isabel nodded, shrugging. 

"It's ok, Mami, you didn't fall over on purpose." She leant further into her mother's arm. "You don't have to be sad though, I don't like when you're sad."

"I don't like being sad either! But it's ok because when you're around, I'm always happy." She smiled softly. "You make me so happy, my lion cub."

"You make me happy too, Mami. Even when you can't play with me!" 

She giggled and Mapi knew exactly where she was going. 

"But when I get my doggy you won't have to play with me because I can play with her. Or him. I can play with my doggy."

The Spaniard smiled, running her hands through her daughter's hair and humming quietly. 

"You still have to convince Ingrid on that one."

Isabel huffed in a way that was entirely too serious for a 3 year old. 

"I don't know why... why doesn't Ingrid want a doggy?"

"She thinks you're enough work as it is, my lion."

She looked up, completely outraged. 

"I'm not work! I am a good girl, even Ingrid told me that!"

Mapi just laughed, adjusting her position on the sofa. 

"How about you run and grab your pens and paper and I can show you how to do some drawings today?"

The toddler's face switched from outrage to excitement in a split second as she bounced down from the sofa, running to her room and grabbing her supplies. 

She was used to drawing with Camila who tried her best, but was not very good at all. Getting to draw with her Mami, who was the best drawer that Isabel had ever seen was a novelty and the way she practically bounced back to the sofa emphasised just how excited she was. 

It was how Ingrid found them when she got home, Isabel wedged in an entirely uncomfortable position on Mapi's lap but it didn't look like she could care less - she was completely enthralled by Mapi's drawing of a puppy on the paper, her own pen and paper long discarded on the sofa beside her. 

Isabel's eyes lit up as the door opened, immediately beckoning Ingrid over, completely disregarding her post-training exhaustion and discomfort. 

"Ingrid! Look at Mami's drawing! It's a doggy."

The Norwegian shook her head, walking over to the duo on the sofa and sitting down beside them.

"It's a good puppy, isn't it!"

She nodded, looking over at Mapi with a glint in her eyes.

"I was thinking on the way home." She paused, her eyes flicking between the mother and daughter, each of them wearing equal expressions of suspense and interest.

"I think that you've been so good, Is, since Mami got hurt."

Mapi started to understand where this was going, a smile growing on her face while Isabel remained completely in suspense.

"I think that you've shown to us that you're responsible and I think you've shown us that you deserve a dog too."

The child's face lit up immediately and she almost knocked Mapi over with the speed she threw herself out of her position and right into Ingrid.

"I'm getting a doggy!"

~~~~~~

It was the three month anniversary of Mapi injuring her knee.

Christmas had come and gone, and Isabel had tried desperately hard to hide her disappointment when a puppy hadn't shown up in her stocking.

They had wanted to give it to her then, but couldn't justify taking it to Zaragoza for Christmas, nor could they justify buying a puppy right before their trip to Norway for new years.

Ingrid also hadn't wanted to buy a puppy when Mapi was still on crutches, still not entirely able to look after her child alone, let alone a new dog as well. Ingrid was mostly around, but the away trips would be almost impossible with a dog and a toddler if Mapi still could not walk.

So Isabel had been surprised and excited by her other gifts, things that had been used to death already. The thought of a dog never really left her brain, but she managed to push it to the side as she opened her Christmas presents and ate the Christmas food that her Grandmother had provided.

But now it was March. It was finally getting warmer and Mapi was finally returning to the pitch for training.

Off the pitch, she was completely recovered, back to kneeling by Isabel's bed every night for bedtime stories and cuddles, back to running around with the toddler on their (almost) daily walks to the park.

Ingrid had dressed her this morning, making sure her favourite dog shirt was clean the night before, sliding it over her head with a pair of jeans and sneakers, pulling her crazy morning hair back into braids.

The toddler had pointed down at the dog on her shirt, babbling in an incoherent mix of Spanish and Norwegian about how much she loved dogs.

Ingrid could only smother down her grin, thinking about the hidden stash of dog toys and supplies they had been building over the past couple of months - shoved into the ensuite of the master bedroom.

Not a week after she had agreed to buying a dog, Ingrid had signed her name on an obscure package addressed to Mapi, watching on with amusement as the Spaniard opened it up and admired the leash and dog bed that had arrived.

She was bored, apparently, sat at home alone and unable to participate in the walks that Ingrid was taking Isabel on. The boredom materialised as online shopping and she had guiltily admitted to Ingrid that she was expecting a whole lot of packages in the next few weeks.

They had kept an eye out for ads advertising golden retriever puppies, almost giving up when it seemed impossible to find one anywhere.

But three weeks ago, Mapi's mother had seen an ad up in her hometown and immediately sent it off to the couple and the next day, they had confirmed their purchase of a brand new golden retriever.

The Spaniard collected it from Zaragoza alone, under the guise of visiting home to clean out her old bedroom - an excursion that she was sure Isabel would have zero interest in attending.

The dog had been left with Alexia over night and they were surprising the toddler that day in the park.

And the little girl had absolutely no idea what would be awaiting her at the end of her walk.

~~~~~~

Isabel swung her arms happily between Mapi and Ingrid, a grin on her face as she chattered excitedly to Mapi about what she and Ingrid had gotten up to yesterday, explaining her experience of drinking a hot chocolate in such depth that Mapi wondered how long she had been concocting this story.

They stopped in at a small café for lunch on the way, trying to stall their walk so Alexia would be there before them and also so they wouldn't have to try feed her when she was inevitably excited about her brand new puppy that she had been thinking about for months.

But the anticipation was worth it as soon as she saw her godmother holding a lead that was attached to a little golden puppy, running around excitedly with it's ball.

The expression on Isabel's face was worth more than anything they had ever brought, her entire face lifting up, a smile that showed off her complete set of teeth as she spun around to look at her mother and Ingrid.

"Mami, Ingrid, is that-" It was like she didn't want to tempt fate by asking the question, just in case the dog wasn't hers.

She didn't think they would have done that to her, not in the slightest.

"Ale has your new puppy, Is. You can go say hello."

But the child didn't run to the puppy immediately as the couple had expected, instead charging into her mother first, wrapping her arms around the Spaniard and thanking her over and over again, moving to do the same to Ingrid not long after.

"Of you go, Is, go meet your puppy!" Ingrid grinned as she nudged her away, watching on with joy as the toddler practically sprinted down to the puppy who immediately jumped up onto her, covering her face with wet kisses.

"I think we made the right decision." Mapi looked at Ingrid hesitantly, aware that this still wasn't ideal for the Norwegian.

But the expression on the brunettes face said something completely different, a huge smile stuck on her face as she watched Isabel squeal with delight at her new dog, the happiest she had ever seen her.

"No, Maria, this was the right decision. Definitely."

Mapi beamed, leaning into her girlfriend's side and wrapping her arm around Ingrid's waist.

"She's so happy."

Alexia approached them not long after, her hand still holding onto the leash.

"I believe this is yours now." She smiled, holding it out to Mapi. "I can't believe anyone tried to deny her of this."

Mapi rolled her eyes, grabbing the leash, completely sick and tired of Alexia's argument about how dogs are so much better than cats.

"Is loves Bagheera too, she's just a dog person."

Alexia chuckled, shaking her head.

"No goddaughter of mine will ever be a cat person."

They continued to watch Isabel with the puppy right until she walked back over to her three adults, the dog following dutifully behind her.

"Mami, I want to call her Baloo, Bagheera's friend! Can I call her Baloo?"

Mapi smiled easily, using her spare hand to stroke her daughter's head.

"Of course you can call her Baloo, I love it."

~~~~~~

alright hope you enjoyed!

(I may or may not have given up on editing this after five minutes so it’ll probably be edited in the morning)

let me know what you think and let me know what else you want to see

have a good day!!

[tteokdoroki]

Aali!!!! I was gonna put this in the tags of your training scenario but got shy :(

but i immediately thought of Gojo!! And like he's not surprised you flipped him over due to you're strength, he has no doubts about how strong you are but it's the fact that he trusts you so much he unconsciously turned off his infinity for you <3 so now he's like !!!!!! because what!!!! but also you're on top of him and you look so pretty so now he's short circuiting double the amount!!!!

Like !!!!!!!! my brain is going crazy thinking about it - 🍓

☆༉ — SATORU GOJO. neither strong, nor weak - just in love.

about. combat training with gojo makes him realise just how strong you really are. inspired by this silly post i made yesterday, it wasn’t meant to become a whole thing but it did and now it’s…sad. im sorry. also pls don’t be shy ily :(

warnings. minors, ageless and blank blogs do not interact. sfw, angst, mutual pining, slightly unrequited romance, mentions of violence (they’re combat training), death mention, canon!verse, gn!reader.

you’re pissed. 

over the years satoru’s seen a colourful array of emotions splayed against your features. he’s seen joy, laughter, happiness — all of which are his favourites. he wishes he could have seen them more. but also sadness, anguish and a pain so deep he felt like he was dying right alongside you. 

he’s died once before, nearly, but it never could have compared to the feeling he got when you looked at him with pure hatred. because gojo had been the one to hurt you, then. 

you’ve never been one to hold grudges, you’re too good of a person for the world to hold anyone in such a negative light for way too long — but when you do experience these emotions, you feel them all too much and all too hard and everyone can see it too. maybe that’s why gojo picks up on your spike of anger so easily during training today, it could be the sick reason behind how much he’s enjoying you being pissed off too.  

because you wear your heart on your sleeve and your emotions on your face, so gojo knows exactly how he makes you feel — all of the time. “c’mon sweetheart, don’t lose focus. don’t you wanna beat me?” he taunts you, a cocky smile stretched over his lips as he dodges each of your blows, though the shades over his eyes hide the admiration he has for you.  

“fuck you.” you spit back harshly, as if the words scald your tongue. shifting your weight onto your back foot, you take a chance and swing your leg up high, just narrowly missing the silvery mop of satoru’s hair where his infinity goes up to protect him. 

for gojo, it’s easy for things to lose their meaning, slipping away from him like fine grains of sand through his fingers. at times when he should, he finds himself without a care — it’s easier to walk through life not giving a shit than to tie emotions to actions, people and places. if the strongest cares too much then people have to die. that’s why the wielder of the six eyes holds you to such high regards. you’re strong because you’re able to care — no matter what’s in your path or who might stand in your way, and what they might make you feel, you are able to be strong for those in need. 

you feel what satoru can’t. 

“i’ve been waiting all day for that, honey.” he quips back, lifting his shades just a little to bare the full brunt of your aura through his technique. “c’mon, let’s put in a little more effort, shall we? if i were a curse, you’d be dead by now.” 

everything gojo sees is magnified by one hundred, he could detect the smallest of changes no matter how close or far he was from you — and being able to witness frustration build up in your core along with stacks of your cursed energy elicits a pleasant reaction out of him. his head flops to the side, almost bored, despite how the corner of his lips quirk up into a lopsided grin. satoru loves how you’re just teeming with anger, from the top of your head right down to your toes — spreading into your fingertips as your cursed energy balls powerfully around your fist. 

and even though he catches it between his larger hands, the thin invisible veil of his infinity quite literally stopping you from killing gojo — he can still feel that you’re pouring your all into this, into him. even though you’re tired and dripping with sweat while your muscles burn so hot you fear they might melt away, you’re still trying. you still won’t give up. you’re still stronger than he ever could be. 

and he’s practically a god. 

“you would be the dead one if you didn’t have the cheat code to life.” rolling your shoulders, you step back with a menacing snarl and start again — fists flying in the direction of the six eyes as you’re  fuelled by the passion of taking him down. making him hurt. people like gojo piss you off, their existence serving as a reminder that your life is not promised and every step you take is a sacrifice to help them live on. though deep down, you know that you don’t hate him for it. it’s nothing that he could have helped. 

once again, satoru snags your fist before it can even leave a mark on him and draws you in by his infinity. for a moment, you’re scared that he might use it to repel you, harm you  — he catches the flicker of fear in your eyes before you steel your nerves and keep on fighting even as he grabs at your wrists, sweeps your feet out from underneath you and pins you to the hard ground below. 

leaning over your frame as you squirm beneath him, gojo tuts down at you in faux disappointment. “so sad, and here i was, thinking that you were strong enough to beat me.” he says, cruelly. “give up already, princess.” 

in response, you bare your fangs and dig your nails into his wrists — not letting up. “i’ll give up when you’ve killed me.” 

that makes satoru falter. 

it’s only training, really, it shouldn’t even be that serious. but his mind can’t shake the idea of one day sacrificing you for the good of others. for everyone satoru gojo has ever cared about, there has been a day where he has to choose between letting them meet their end and protecting the jujutsu world. that’s the way it’s always been and always will be. it’s not that he thinks you’re weak, that you can’t handle yourself — you’ve proven yourself capable of that time and time again. you’re strong, physically and resilient in your emotions, mentally but you’re only human.

and humans don’t last as long as gods do. 

seizing the opportunity at hand, you squeeze your thighs around satoru’s slender waist to switch your situation and rip your wrists free from his steady iron grip. so now, your positions are reversed, and he’s the one with his arms above his head — exposing all of his vulnerable vital organs. he could have easily kept himself in control and have you squirming below him for hours, but he lets you. he trusts you enough to let you prove yourself to him — just so he can have that moment, that lets you know that the great satoru gojo is not immune to the likes of you. 

he is weak for you. 

his infinity slips away unconsciously just as his back his the the floor with a dull thud — wisps of his snow white hair flying about the place with the motion. satoru lays still beneath you, unmoving like a tree rooted to its spot, and peers up at you through the thickness of his lashes. he watches how you try to control your surprise and how shocked you are at yourself for pinning him down — truth being told that if he didn’t have infinity to hide behind, if he was human, you probably would have been able to from the start. 

“think again,” you breathe, the dip in your voice doing nothing to help satoru’s crazed mind and how insane he is for you. “princess.”

you’re so pretty like this. your eyes are frenzied and and astonished, your chest heaves with every breath you take in desperation to fill your lungs with air and your skin shines with light perspiration from your training. and even then, to satoru, you’re the most precious form of life he’s ever seen. a rarity amongst unpolished gems. every emotion you have right now is laid bare against your features, coursing through your veins and it’s because of him. 

it’s nice like this, to feel weak in the knees and in the heart for someone. to be able to feel your pulse rather than see it as nothing but a flicker of a blue flame with blue eyes. 

he wants to touch you, subconsciously reaching out to brush a thumb over your cheek. “you’re so beautiful.” satoru whispers, his voice low and uneven — causing goosebumps to rise over the expanse of your skin and a soft gasp to lay wet on your lips. 

exasperated tears begin to well up in your eyes, sitting pretty in your lower lash line. you’re so angry at gojo and how you think he sees you but you don’t dare to push his hand away, instead turning your head to look elsewhere. you don’t want him to see you cry. 

“turn your infinity back on. i could kill you.” 

“you’re beautiful,” satoru repeats adamantly, not caring if he sounds like a broken record. “you’re strong. stronger than me.” you’re pissed at him too , for looking down at you. for all the things he’s said that hurt you without meaning to. your grip on his wrists loosen along with your hold on your emotions. “i wish i could be weak enough to love you.”

“i said turn it back on, gojo.” 

“look at me, please.” 

“gojo.” 

“please.” 

your shoulders sag with a shaky exhale, all of the fight you had leaving you as you sit on top of him — looking down at him. “what?” comes your quiet mumble, not daring to flinch away as his thumb traces over your bottom lip without the gentle hum of his infinity.

“i love you.” 

if you were at any other point in time, satoru’s words would have had you melting over him like butter in a pan. you would have been weak enough to say it back and let him overwhelm you with longing. because if this were any other point in time, you would have needed satoru gojo like you needed air to breathe. like you needed him to live. 

but things are different now, there’s a concrete wall built around your heart to fortify it and you’ve grown to become immune to him. like gojo says, you are strong and while you know that you always have been — hearing him admit that makes you realise you don’t want to prove your worth to him anymore. 

you would much rather have him kill you instead. 

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[liesonmytongues]

Virgin!Steve Harrison x GN!Reader

Synopsis- Steve's been pretending to be a top notch player for years, but the truth is, he's still a virgin. You change that.

Warnings/CWs- this is very wholesome smut, lovey dovey sex, virginity loss, dub-con if you absolutely *squint*, love sick/pussy drunk men, Steve being embarrassed and guilty about jorking it to you, descriptions of masturbation

Word count- 4,000

When he was back in Hawkins, Steve had a reputation. Full of himself. A player. Always a girl on his hip– whether or not she was his girlfriend– always bragging about his game, about his sex life.

He would tell his friends about every escapade involving a new hot chick– basing his stories off of people he saw outside. A hot blonde at the mall would turn into a ‘Filthy slut who couldn't stop begging for it’, an innocent looking brunette outside the church into ‘a crazy bitch who wanted it rough’.

Steve would try not to get too serious with girls at the school for obvious reasons– couldn’t have anyone exposing him as a liar, now could he? But every so often someone would catch his eye. It was shameful– dangerous really –the way he would get these girls head over heels for him, manipulate them in one way or another so they wouldn’t ask about what Steve really didn’t want to think about.

It was a little different with Nancy– he really did like her, much more than those other girls who were just to keep up appearances. He didn’t want to manipulate her, didn’t want to treat her like she was just another chick in the crowd– so Steve came up with a different solution. One that still didn’t include actually having sex with her. He couldn't talk the talk without the chance of someone telling her, so his stories turned more into something like ‘I can't say, Nancy’s too shy– it was a crazy night though’, and the couple of times anyone questioned him, he would intimidate them into dropping it– easy enough.

But it didn't change the fact that Steve Harrington is a virgin.

For one reason or another, he never actually got around to getting his dick wet– and, in juxtaposition to his personality, it was usually because he just…kept chickening out. He would fantasize about it– stroking himself raw with some cheap toy while he tried to imagine the feeling of a real hole– but that was where it ended for him. Sad nights alone while he got off to his next story– and for a while that was fine! For a while Steve didn't need anything other than the life he had– sports and drinking and pretty girls, that satisfied him enough without hitting third base.

Then when Eleven and the monsters showed up, he didn't have time for sex– no time for fantasizing, or jealousy, or nervousness –just surviving. And babysitting a group of kids.

Everything he’d been saying– doing –the inadequacy he felt, was completely pushed to the back of his mind for the better part of 2 years. The first time it quieted down, after they saved that poor kid and things almost seemed like they were gonna go back to normal, Steve considered trying to…regress. He wanted to feel like nothing had even happened– he wanted that control back –didn’t want to admit that everything had changed for good. It hurt to know that even if things were ok now, it would never, ever be the same. Nothing would ever be the same. That’s what consumed him until the next time the demogorgons showed up– and that, plus the constant wondering of what the fuck else was in the world made it a little hard to get it up.

Steve tried once– kissing her, rubbing her clit through her panties, fingering her while he tried, tried so hard, to just make his stupid dick cooperate– and then he realized how stupid that was. He had this beautiful, half naked, moaning girl under him– this girl he was sure he loved –and he still couldn’t push himself past his nerves for long enough to fuck her.

Nancy tried 3 more times– all ending in Steve shakily, nervously, using his hands or mouth to make her cum while he was stuck in his own head. They broke up a few weeks after the last try, and he didn’t get any more chances before that…thing took them both.

Steve's first thought was that it was another creature made by the lab– that's where he found it, that's what it had to be, right? Some other failed, murderous experiment or alternate dimensional nightmare that he had to take the brunt of, just because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

At first, that theory seemed right– the place they were taken looked just like the upside down’s version of Hawkins lab, with the same distant screaming from a demogorgon –but being shucked right off to ‘The camp’ was a good way to change his mind. There were other people there– too many for any type of hell Steve’s ever been to –and it seemed like they were ready to see him and Nance, a tall, scrawny guy greeting them with too much energy and too much understanding.

And the rest is history, right? For one reason or another, the thing known as the ‘entity’ wanted them there, along with a bunch of other ‘survivors’ and the things that have been torturing them for god knows how long.

You…make it a little more bearable. A little.

You welcomed Steve and Nancy better than a lot of the other survivors– and part of it was definitely to learn how to survive the demogorgon, you’d be stupid to pass up that opportunity –making sure they knew what was going to happen with much less frantic, frightened energy than Dwight. You were a godsend really, and Steve feels like he owes you his life– no matter how many times he’s died here.

You were just friends– that's all. Forget about the way his heart and stomach feel like they’re sinking in on themselves every time he sees you, or the way he looks forward to the end of trials because that means more time to spend together, or how everything you say seems to be funny, or smart, or mind melting– all of that is just because you're a really good friend, and this place is messing with Steve's ability to see that.

Plus, spending every day around the ex who was your first love is a surefire way to confuse your brain. That's the rational Steve gave on the nights spent trying not to jerk himself off to something you did that day; the nights where he failed miserably, stuffing his hand on his mouth to muffle the pathetic sounds he made every time he came, and one was never enough; the nights Steve felt disgusting for what he considered violating you, sticky with his own cum and still not able to get you out of his head.

No, you’re just friends. And sometimes, when friends are in bad situations, it gets a little confusing. What you don’t know can’t hurt you, can’t make you look at him at a gross freak, can’t ruin your relationship– but it can make you suspicious.

Suspicious because Steve was acting weird, and he hadn’t even realized it– hadn’t realized that he hadn’t made eye contact with you in weeks. Honestly, he was pretty confident that his sneaking–away skills were honed to perfection– it’d worked on the demogorgons, who would have thought that it wouldn’t work on a person? Nevermind the fact that demogorgons don’t actually have eyes to see him with.

Your breaking point came around the same time every single trial with Steve started ending in a sacrifice.

You’d tried talking to him about it, and when that didn’t work, you tried talking to Nancy. From what you’d gathered, she’d been pretty good at mystery solving in Hawkins, and since she knew Steve so well, it seemed like your best bet…but you got nothing. No hint at anything that could have happened, nothing shared when you weren’t around about why he was so awkward all of a sudden, not so much as a complaint– leaving you to do everything yourself.

No way in hell were you going to confront him with all the other survivors around, that would just lead to even more awkwardness, and you couldn’t handle that– not with everything else –but you did need to confront him. You couldn’t work together, your entire relationship was strained, and if you couldn’t find some sort of way to resolve this…tension, you were going to explode and make this whole issue even worse.

But maybe in hindsight, sneaking up on him in his cabin wasn't the best idea either. In your defense, you had no idea about his hopeless pining, and with your annoyance clouding your better judgment, it seemed like the only way to finally get him talking. And really, that had been your plan! The whole walk there you’d been thinking of just the right words to get across exactly what you wanted to say– stay calm, tell him how you feel, tell him what needed to change. It was your plan, until the moment you knocked on the door – and heard Steve moan your name at the same time.

It took a second to process what you heard, to be pulled –punched, really– out of the concentration and anger that had fueled this whole trip and really hear it for what it was, but by then there was a whole other reason you were distracted. Steve slammed open the door, flushed and sweaty, panting like a whore and looking at you with the widest puppy dog eyes you’ve ever seen.

“You– It’s not–! It’s not what it looks like!” Steve stumbled over his words in an attempt to get them out as fast as possible, to convince you somehow that you hadn’t heard what you just heard– convince you not to turn around and leave and never speak to him again.

“Please, please, I’m so sorry– I promise I can explain! I–”

“Inside.”

“What–”

“Inside.”

If someone asked you, it would be hard to tell them why you did what you did– shoving Steve Harrington inside his cabin was a split second decision, kissing him was another, dropping everything you’d wanted to say was a third. Maybe it was because you were so tense– it’s not easy to live like this, god knows there’s not much time for sex of all things –the rush of emotions, the shock, maybe it was because he just looked so debauched with his face red and his lips parted the way they were. Fuck, maybe it’s just because he finally looked at you again.

It didn’t really matter what it was though, did it? Not when he moaned like that, like he was starving for you, as soon as your hands were on him.

He hadn’t gotten to finish, that much was clear from how his cock was pressed twitching to your thigh– leaking a sticky patch of precum where he’d haphazardly shoved himself back into his jeans before opening the door.

“Wait– wait!” Steve pushed you back by the hips, squeezing his eyes shut and sucking in deep, sharp breaths. Even if he hadn’t said anything, it was obvious how hesitant it was.

“What–” You mirrored his confusion from earlier,

“I’ve never…done this before.” He gestured vaguely downwards, and when you followed the movements to his groin, his cock visibly throbbed.

“You’ve…never had sex? You’re a virgin?” And with that he’s right back to not looking at you– flushed even brighter than before and staring down the floorboards like they did this, like they made him hard, made you find him moaning your name, made you come inside and made him admit what he didn’t even admit to Nancy. But he feels…better. His erection has flagged a little just from the shame of the situation, but it’s not like before– when the second someone tried to have sex with him, he stopped being able to get it up at all.

“Yeah.” He breathed, loosening the grip on your waist– as if being a virgin of all things would mean you wouldn’t want him.

“Is that…all?”

“Doesn’t that bother you? I’ve only ever used my mouth, I don’t know if I’m gonna be any good…” The skin of his neck was shiny with perspiration, a droplet of sweat dripping down his jaw and fucking christ you want to lick it off–

“No? I don't care how much experience you have Steve–fuck, don't you know what you do to me?” His eyes flicked down to your groin and you could feel the shudder that passed through him–hear it too, if that quivering, breathy sigh was anything to go off. You were caught off guard when Steve suddenly yanked you forward, wrapping his arms around your waist and shoving his face into the crook of your neck–taking deep breaths, inhaling your scent while he tried to ground himself.

Less caught off guard when he pulled you in for another kiss, mashing your lips and noses together in a type of desperation that can only come from a man who's been hard for the last hour– tongue worming it's way between your lips, only pulling away long enough to breathe hot puffs of air against your face.

You didn’t protest when he pulled you back towards his bed, or when you felt him turn you around, your calves hitting the mattress only a few moment before the rest of you, falling into the old raggedy blankets and grunting when Steve climbs on top of you–because he just refuses to let go of your body for even a second, grinding his cock to your thigh in slow strokes while he tries his hardest to devour you.

“Fuck– you mean it?” He shifts to kissing your jaw–just as rough as your lips–so you can respond, murmuring variations of your name and ‘please’ and ‘say it’.

“Yeah, I mean it.” It comes out breathy and desperate, but god, there’s not a single world where you could bring yourself to care with such a pretty man looking equally as debauched above you. He gets a panicked look on his face barely a second before his hands shoot down to his jeans, ripping them open with enough force to audibly pop a thread, pulling his boxers down and gripping his cock painfully. You have half a mind to ask him what he’s doing–what was that look for? Is something wrong? Is he already done with the foreplay?–but only get about as far as parting your lips before Steve makes a pained noise, halfway between a moan and a sob, and is cumming over the front of your shirt. Thick strands accompanied by choked groans as he tries to make it stop, frantically muttering ‘no!’ under his breath again and again.

You shouldn’t be surprised–you aren’t surprised, not really–but it’s still sudden enough to make your eyes bulge a little more with every spurt. Which, of course, Steve notices immediately– flushing with shame instead of arousal and covering his eyes with the back of his free hand.

“Jesus– fuck! I’m so sorry– I didn’t mean to, I don’t know what happened–” He’s spiraling is what you distantly realize, but you’re too caught up with the fact that he just came from being told you were into him. So caught up, in fact, that the only way you can think to really calm him down is smashing his face back into yours. You have his hair between your fingers before he can utter another distraught apology, and he’s right back to melting into you.

You don’t stop him when Steve’s hands move to your pants, taking them off with much less frenzy than his own. His cock had barely softened, and when your underwear was down far enough that he finally caught a glimpse of your body, it gave a hard twitch–already raring to go a second time. God knows if it’s because it’s you or just the situation, but you can hope.

Steve looks back and forth between your hole and your stained shirt for a moment, before with two fingers, he scoops his own cum off your shirt, pressing them inside your hole achingly slowly–like he’s scared that giving them to you how you want will break you. He seems mesmerized by the way each knuckle sinks deeper, spreading you open on his fingers while his spend pushes back–oozing out before he shoves it back in again.

“Fuck– you’re so tight, so warm…” The way he's looking at you is near–reverent, huffing out a breath every time you squeeze and practically moaning when he can’t go any deeper.

“Don’t you wanna feel that–hah–around your cock? Give your body what it wants?” You were panting as much as Steve at this point, sighing and moaning softly every time he found just the right spot to focus on.

“Don't say that kind of thing!” He whined, breaking eye contact for a second so he could lean over and open his mouth, letting some spit dribble onto your hole to aid the way while his fingers sped up–trying to spread you open faster so his poor, angry looking cock could get some relief. Real relief–not just cumming in his pants like a…y'know, like a virgin.

Still bent over, Steve used his free arm to cage you underneath him–forcing your legs up and around his waist at the same time so he could keep up the rhythm. You could feel your body starting to ease open, just barely loose enough for him to put in a third finger and spread them inside you. It felt fantastic, but you could almost be fooled into thinking that he was the one feeling it–almost as noisy from just the sensation of your walls around his thick, rough fingers.

It wasn’t quite enough to make you cum, not without any other stimulation, but his enthusiasm turned you on like nothing else. He gave a few more thrusts, fingers spread out as much as possible in a last ditch attempt to prep you before he lost it.

“I’m sorry- I need it, you have no idea-”

“It’s fine, I’m fine, just put it in, please.” A mix of Steve’s pre and cum and spit eased the way as he gripped his cock at the base and finally started pushing it forward–squeezing tight to try and keep himself from coming any faster than he already would. He only managed to get the tip inside before he had to pause, shutting his eyes with a desperate, shuddering moan–nuzzling his face into your chest while his free hand glided away from its death-grip on the sheets, opting instead for holding your head, threading your hair over his palm until he had enough to tug.

You could feel his fat, leaky cockhead throb–the vibration of another moan spreading through your chest before his hips jerked enough to force another couple of inches inside you. And it hurt, it did, that same string and stretch that always came with having something new inside you, but he was just so perfect that you couldn’t focus on it. You’d noticed before how pretty he was below the belt–and it really showed now.

God, maybe you really have just gone that long without getting laid, but Steve’s dick filled you better than you can ever remember being filled. Better than your fingers, better than any toy for the sheer amount of emotion and connection, better than the vague snippets of your last fucks from years ago now.

Steve pulled himself off of your chest after a minute, taking deep breaths and scrunching up his face in concentration–then another minute before he manages to let go of his shaft and push the rest of the way inside. The moan he gives you is borderline pornographic when he bottoms out, hot enough to–along with the feeling of his stomach pressing against your groin–have you moaning with him.

His thrusts have no real rhythm, no actual skill, just the sloppiness that shows exactly how inexperienced he really is–and equally how desperate he is for you. There’s no rhyme or reason to how he chases the feeling, but somehow he still manages to tease your orgasm–to rut his sensitive cock in all the right places to make it feel good instead of annoying.

“I’m not gonna- hah, oh god- not gonna last. Christ you feel so good- you’re so perfect, you’re perfect- I love you.” Your attention was immediately snapped away from his hips up to his face, where he was staring at you with those big brown eyes–again the puppy analogy comes to mind–and the most of an emotion besides fear you’ve seen in a long time.

“Can I- ngh -cum on your stomach? Please?” It's hard to tell if he even realizes that he just said he loves you, and he's not giving you any time to process it with the way his thrusts are speeding up–just barely able to keep his cock from slipping out through his frantic movements. And it was so lewd, so wet and slick and loud–blocking out everything else except the moaning right in front of your face.

Steve was putting everything into making you feel good–fighting back his orgasm while whispering harsh ‘please, please, please’ under his breath, along with a slurred approximation of your name and those frankly beautiful, desperate hitches of breath. Your body fought to accommodate the way he sped up, battering your walls in a way that juxtaposed his confession a minute ago.

“Yes, yes cum on me, cum on me baby- fuck-” You barely managed to finish your sentence before Steve was pulling out, curling his body over you and trembling while his cock throbbed against your stomach–followed by another moan that could only be described as burning, aching, and the first shot of hot, sticky fluid on your skin, cumming so hard it managed to reach your collar, sticking to his own chest in the process and dripping down onto the sheets. His noises didn’t stop for nearly a full minute, whimpering and whining while you murmured sweet words, trying to ease him down from his high.

That’s all you expected from him–as sweet as he could be, he’s still a man from the 80’s–which is why you were surprised when he didn’t just slump over and leave you to deal with the painful way your arousal licked at your stomach, begging for relief.

You weren’t sure what to think of the way Steve climbed down the bed–until he latched his mouth to your groin, sucking and licking and taking you into his mouth, as much as he could fit at once. It took him a second, but he turned his eyes up to you, lidded and high from endorphins, giving him a lovesick, fucked out look that only served to turn you on more. And the way he kept moaning, groaning and scrunching his face up like he was the one feeling it–like you were the one fucking him with your mouth, desperate to make him cum.

And it was desperate–not a thought inside his head, only driven by the feral need to make you feel as good as he did. How could you ever not comply?

It barely took another minute of the sloppy, needy working of his tongue before you were cumming too, and Steve lapped up everything, like everything you were giving him was a gift that he needed to take, refusing to let even a drop go to waste. Distantly, in the middle of feeling like your vision was going to white out, you could feel another few drops leak out of his twitching cock, milking himself dry just from the taste of you.

He wrapped his arms around your thigh when you pried his head away, resting his face on your hip so he could keep pressing soft kisses to your skin. It was pretty obvious he wasn’t in his right mind–tired and euphoric and fucked stupid–but you let him stay, wiping his messy hair away from his forehead and petting at his nape.

“Was it…good?” He murmured, glancing up at you again.

“Christ, do you really have to ask?” He kept looking at you, blinking slowly–waiting. “Yeah. It was really good.” And he nods, sighing against your skin–then a choking sound when you followed it up with ‘I love you too’.

[thatacotargirl]

Shadows and Surprises (2)

Part 2 of Azriel x Reader fanfic! Thank you for all the support on the first part, this is my first time writing a fanfiction and I've had this idea in my head for so long - so your kind words have really made me smile!

Summary: Azriel meets y/n at Rita's and spends a single night of passion with you before heading your separate ways. Only, the Mother had different ideas.

Warnings: discussions related to pregnancy, family loss.

Tag list - @mirandasidefics @lilah-asteria @nyxbranwenn @nickishadow139

Azriel POV

"y/n?" Azriel stuttered, eyes not moving from her abdomen. From his peripheral, he saw Madja gently pat y/n on the shoulder and depart back behind the beaded curtains, leaving the pair of you alone. Y/n could barely meet his eyes, but let out a soft "hello", sounding almost winded.

Azriel kept on staring, almost held in a trance by the small swell he saw. He knew - be it by your reaction, your scent, his own instincts - he knew the child growing in there was his. But he had to know for sure.

"Is it mine, y/n?". Her slow nod pulled him away from her abdomen for a moment to meet her eyes, which were still full of fear, panic, and now tears. Azriel was feared by many, he was a Shadowsinger, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court, he was used to seeing fear when eyes met his. But seeing the fear fill your eyes, the mother of his child, was too much to bear. His usually stoic face fell.

"Why didn't you tell me, y/n?" he asked, gently this time, not wanting to cause you undue distress, despite the knot he felt growing in the pit of his own stomach.

"You hardly left a forwarding address, Az", y/n chuckled out lightly, "I tried, but I had no way to reach you. Plus, I didn't think I'd see you again, or that you'd want to be involved if you knew - I thought it was for the best that I couldn't find you".

Azriel's face fell further. Is that the impression that he had left on her that night? That he wouldn't want to be involved if something like this had happened? Or is that just the reputation he has garnered from his years of work at the Night Court?

He panicked, and the knot grew bigger, twisting, taking his breath away, pulling him deeper and deeper into a state of alarm that Azriel couldn't claw his way out from. Y/n saw the swirling fear in Azriel's eyes and her own softened.

"I'll give you some time, Az. Think about it. There is no obligation for you to have any involvement in this. You can pretend this encounter didn't happen and move on, if that's what you'd prefer. I won't hold it against you" she promised, before sliding past Azriel's frozen frame and rushing out the door into the streets of Velaris.

Y/N's POV

Y/n walked through her front door, chucked her bag on the nearby sofa, and thumped her fist into her forehead.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid" she muttered.

She had no regrets about the baby, the sweet little life growing inside her. When she realised she was pregnant with Azriel's baby, she panicked about carrying and birthing a child with wings, but Madja's thorough assessments each week have put her mind to rest. Being half-Illyrian, half-Fae meant she had every risk of having high-Fae anatomy, but the Cauldron seemed to have blessed her with Illyrian hips, so conceiving her child did not mean a sure death sentence. It didn't make it easier, though, to bear the brunt of early pregnancy alone.

Y/n was the proud owner of a bookstore in Velaris, located not far from the Sidra. It was her pride and joy. Having lost her mother at a young age and being raised alongside her brothers in the Illyrian camps meant that y/n was hardened to life's difficulties. Her father certainly made sure of that. So the idea of being a single mother whilst running her bookstore seemed like a walk in the park compared to her past. But, without staff to help, y/n found herself utterly and completely exhausted each day. Her morning sickness had finally let up, but in its place she found her energy drained within the first hour she spent on her feet locating books, tiding the store, and serving customers. She knew it was only going to get harder from here.

She wanted Azriel to be part of her baby's life, of course she did! She wanted her child to grow up knowing their father, having a father who loved them and cared for them, something she could only have wished for as a child herself. But she didn't want Azriel involved out of obligation. She didn't want him to begrudge her or resent her child. His panic-ridden face filled her mind once again as she flopped backwards onto her bed with more force than necessary.

"Stupid" she muttered.

Azriel's POV

Azriel flew at a speed faster than he knew existed. Faster than battle, than when his life depended on it. Because now, another tiny little life just might.

He crash-landed onto the balcony of the House of Window and burst through the doors to the dining room.

"Hey Az! What - where's my chocolate marble slice?" Cassian asked, head tilted slightly as a confused expression settled on his face. He took in Azriel's disheveled hair, wild eyes, and stood from his chair with such force that it flew backwards onto the carpet.

"Hey, hey, it's ok Az, what's happened?" Cassian questioned, stepping closer to Azriel who, in turn, took a bigger step backwards. Cassian paused, desperately calling for Rhys through his mind to come and help. Rhys heard, and winnowed into the dining room mere seconds later.

"Azriel?" Rhys called, concerning lacing his face at his stared at his brother's vacant eyes. He waited, seconds turning to minutes, but Azriel just continued his vacant stare across the room, his skin several shades paler than normal. Rhys made it a point to not go into his family's mind without their permission, to not invade their privacy in that way, but Azriel's behaviour was worrying him more than Azriel's anger at the invasion would. He looked in.

"By the Cauldron, Az" he gasped, a hand flying to his mouth. He shared the memory he saw with an equally concerned and confused Cassian, who shook his head a few times in disbelief.

"It's really yours?" Cassian asked, and watched as Azriel finally responded, his head bobbing slowly.

"Azriel", Rhys said, his tone so commanding it snapped Azriel out of his trance and drew his eyes to meet the violet ones of his High Lord. "What are you going to do?".

Azriel drew his eyes from Rhysand to Cassian, then back to Rhysand, before dropping his gaze to the floor and retreating to his room, his shadows swarming so violently around his shoulders that his face was almost entirely hidden. Had they not been, his brothers would have seen the tears falling silently down Azriel's stricken face.

Y/N's POV

Y/n had spent the best part of the afternoon in bed, Madja's tonic working wonders for the discomfort she had been feeling the last few weeks. She had never experienced indigestion, never even heard of it, but she was now quite convinced it was a curse from the Mother because she had never felt pain like it before. After trying to leaf through the latest instalment of her favourite romance series, and reading the same page at least forty times, she decided to settle down for a nap in an attempt to distract herself from the incident at the Apothecary that morning.

That was, until a knock sounded at the door.

[doodlebugg16-blog]

Drama

Azriel x reader

**18+ MDNI**

{Song Inspo}

Summary: You and Azriel are besties for the resties and share a common feeling of resentment towards the mother for not blessing you with a mate. Unfortunately you decide to search for distractions through many males and Azriel is forced to watch you destroy yourself from it. Warnings: Cassian and Rhys guest appearance, angst, depression, suggestive, sexual themes, violence, heartbreak, nonconsensual touching, mentions of y/n, she/her reader, usual ACOTAR warnings, don't worry it has a happy, kinda rushed ending A/n: I honestly wasn't expecting my other Azriel fic to be read by anyone haha so here's another one I've been thinking about. This is also unedited--sorry xoxo

Azriel and you have been friends since he was found his shadows. You were the first to come across the newly born shadowsinger and show him kindness. He never forgot it and it had bloomed into a friendship attached to the hip.

You're the only person to get through his stubbornness. He's the only person that can calm your short temper. Until lately.

You were double-checking your heels to make sure they were strapped correctly and doing a last fluff-up of your hair. Checking yourself in the full length mirror, you spotted Cassian walking past, heading to the kitchen.

"I love what you've done with your hair, how'd you get it to come out of your ears like that?"

You whipped around and scoffed, catching his shit-eating grin. You went to reach for a nearby book to throw at him but a voice cut you off.

"Cassian, you should check your nose before making such comments."

Rhys had wandered around me.

"What?!" Cass had covered his nose and rushed back to his room.

You laughed and turned back to the mirror. "Thanks, Rhys."

He smiled and nodded to the door. "Be safe tonight, Y/n."

You sighed and nodded. "I always am. I know how to protect myself thank you very much."

He snorted, "I'd almost feel sorry for the poor soul to have to face Azriel if something were to happen."

That made you smile. Azriel hated that you went out. He always made himself scarce when you got ready to leave.

Once you accepted the way you looked, you rushed out the door and into the night.

"I assume you're going to follow?" Rhys spoke to the shadows. "I am starting to get concerned. She's starting to leave every night." He turned to the darkest corner in the room.

Azriel emerged and grunted. "I'm worried too."

With that he vanished along with his shadows, following you.

Over the years, Azriel had felt his fondness grow towards you. As his feelings grew, he felt the distance growing with you. You were pushing yourself deeper in the night and loosing yourself during the day. Azriel knew you were distracting yourself ever since the last family gathering. Your drank yourself silly and confessed to have given up with the mate bullshit. Azriel had agreed and felt the same but he had no idea you would have given up this much. He had promised himself that he would save you.

Azriel had followed you to your usual underground club. He watched from afar and had his shadows on high alert. He noticed a smaller male strike up a conversation. You immediately giggling and engaging. It made him sick. Suddenly, you and the male were gone, Azriel's visons blocked by a new group passing in front of him. He huffed and made his way through the crowd, trying to spot you.

After a while without any luck, Azriel started getting worried. He sent his shadows to look for you.

You were being lead out the club by the small male. You usually didn't leave the club but you started to care less and less. The male entered and ally and pushed you up against the wall, kissing your neck. You had the sudden feeling you were being watched.

"H-hey, I think I'm going to call it a night." You tried to guide the male off of you. He then grabbed your wrists and held them to the wall on either side of your head.

"I'm not done with yet, pretty. Don't you wanna have my friends join?"

You furrowed your brows and looked deeper in the ally to spot two other males.

Shit. This isn't going to end well.

"Let go. I'm done." You tried again but the male was somehow stronger.

His hands then started to travel down your body and the other two males made their way closer. "I spiked your drink so don't try anything stupid."

Fuck. This is definitely not going to end well.

Before the two males could touch you, the shadows had swarmed you. You could hear the slashing of Truth Teller. Looking to the male holding you, smiling, "Good Luck." With that, he was yanked into the shadows. You heard a slash and a gargled yelp. Your held your wrists and a frown carved on your lips.

The shadows blurred into the ground, revealing Az. He rushed in front of you, gently taking your wrists in his scarred hands.

"He won't touch you again." He promised.

You looked up into his hazel eyes and blinked away tears. "I can't do this anymore Az. I don't think anyone is going to love me." Now you were sobbing. Azriel's eyes softened.

"Don't say that. You won't find someone like this."

"But it's true! I still don't have a mate and I have to sit around everyone while they are happy with theirs."

Azriel tilted his head. "Trust me, I know how that feels. But you don't need a mate to find someone to spend the rest of your life with. I'm here, right in front of you."

Your eyes widen at him. You shook your head and took your hands out of his. "What are you saying, Az?"

"I love you, Y/n. I can't keep watching you destroy yourself and I can't keep watching other males take advantage of you."

Sniffling, you give his shoulder a push. "You dummy, how long have you felt this way?"

He smiled and shook his head. "Should I have said something sooner?"

You laughed and wiped under your eyes. "Wayyyy sooner."

He leaned in, "Can I kiss you?"

"Please."

His lips crashed to yours with nothing but passion and love. You wrapped you arms around his neck and sighed into the kiss. You pulled away and both stared into each others eyes. Suddenly, you felt a sharp tug in your chest, blooming a golden thread. You both gasp.

"No fucking way." You laughed. He joined in and held a hand to his chest.

When the laughter died down, he leaned in and rested his forehead to yours. "Let's get out of here, mate."

"Please." You sighed and leaned into his touch.

This definitely ended well.

[stvolanis]

IF I DIE YOUNG

PT. 1

PT.2?

PAIRINGS: Klaus Mikaelson x Werewolf! OC

WARNINGS: toxic family, insinuation of accidental murder, lowkey angsty and emotional, Klaus thinks he’s an arsonist, fire, people dying, mentions of blood, Klaus is sweet with manipulative undertones, toxic!Klaus

NSFW WARNINGS: none yet! I promise there will be next time :)

Her village rested by the shore. Her toes dug into the white sand as the water grazed her bare ankles, and the fog was heavy. The air around her murky and dark.

The smell of salt lingered in the air, grounding her as the busy sound of her people echoed behind her in chorus to a familiar song they sang every full moon.

The night was cold, as it always was when you lived by the ocean. Elora felt hushed whispers from behind her, and a constant stare from her peers. As if she were an oddity.

Everyone kept their distance, as if she were a ticking time bomb ready to blow up the whole village if something rubbed her the wrong way. And that might have been the case, but it was not Eloras fault she was cursed with such wickedness.

The full moon was not yet at its apex as she stood up from the sand. She dusted off the sand that remained on her long skirt, and made her way through the familiar forest. It was soothing, in a way. Hearing the leaves crunch under her bare feet, and the crickets that seemed to welcome her.

The wind was violent this night, almost as if it were angry at her for being what she is. Elora was angry at herself, too. All she felt was shame, and regret. Ashamed of what she was and regret for what she was about to become.

she was 19 years young, standing at 5’2 without socks on. She has been this way since she was 14, and she has been miserable ever since. It was an accident, what she did to that boy, but she paid the price for it—and she will for the rest of her life.

Her black hair cascaded down her back in a ruffled braid that stopped just at her waist, and the skirt she wore was littered in Lapis Lazuli that shined under the moonlight. The same skirt she wore every full moon, as she thought it was a token of good luck.

The same familiar cave seemed to stare back at her the closer she got to it. The rocks were an unwelcoming cold that she had grown used to and acquainted with over time. The breeze bounced off of the walls, creating almost an eerie sound.

Her fingers grazed along the caves walls, tracing over the stories her people have painted of her. Living amongst people who were afraid of what you were takes a toll on a person. The only reason the village people have yet to banish her was because they were afraid of further upsetting the balance.

Elora was an abomination. A mistake in natures balance. She was a monster, and that’s all anyone ever saw—even her own parents. Her siblings were no better, the only ones bold enough to taunt her.

Elora felt her body begin to shake as she chained herself. Her ankles and wrists felt even more so heavy with the weight of chains that held her down effectively. They were made of the finest metals, scavenged from high and low, made specially for her.

It was a routine Elora knew well. Her body consumed with and unbearable pain that became easier over time. The feeling she feared she would never get used to is the way her bones broke and bended ways that they shouldn’t. Ways that would kill a regular human with no remorse.

She writhed in agony, screaming in pain as her ribs broke again and again—like a punishment for her sins. Tears ran down her cheeks, and the sharp canines that grew hurt her gums in an unfathomable way. Her eyes glowed a horrifying yellow that would surely scare any suitor away instantly.

She came to terms that she was unlovable. She would never find anyone in their right mind who would want such a monstrosity such as herself. It was a sick pit in the bottom of her stomach she felt watching families stroll by her happily. She would forever yearn. Eternally yearn.

She rocked herself back and forth as her body felt as though it was on fire, in attempts to soothe what was left of her humanity. But she could not stop her inner wars with herself that clawed to come out, and be free once more.

She tugged at the chains, and begged someone, anyone, to stop the pain she was going through. Aimlessly calling out for her mothers comfort as if she could hear her. A damaged child, longing for comfort was all she really was if you peeled back enough layers.

The transition was made, after an hour of torment. Eloras first time took at least 3 or 4. The more you transition, the less time it takes every time. That’s the only thing Elora is grateful for.

Her senses were heightened, and she panted—her stomach turned as if she hadn’t eaten for days. Weeks. Months. Years—god, she was so unbelievably hungry.

Her ears perked as she heard leaves crunch, and for a moment, Elora hoped it was a curious human that dared to witness her monstrous form. And it was—or so she thought.

A man, standing at 5’11 entered the cave as if he owned it. Elora wondered where he got the balls from. She growled, she smelled blood—but it was different. He wasn’t a human, she could tell that much. She had no idea what he was, but she knew he wasn’t anything good.

“What a pity. Living your sad life chained and hated.” He said, his voice echoing through the cave menacingly. His blonde hair was cut short, and seemed disheveled with curls. Elora could not respond, she could not find her humanity to even care in this moment.

“Don’t you wish to be ridden of this burden, little wolf?” He asked, crouching down to her level. He seemed to not be phased in the slightest for her distaste to him, nor was he scared.

Eloras wolfed body was rigid and on edge, crouched and ready to pounce at any second with enough force to break the chains—but it was as though something was stopping her. Maybe it was her own subconscious fear, or maybe it was his alluring presence she hated so much.

“You are a naivety in its entirety, but a beauty nonetheless, Elora.” He whispered, as though someone could overhear them. The girl felt her heart beat somehow quicken, and a warmth spread through her body. She was no longer growling, or ready to pounce—but still on edge.

“If you seek a remedy, you will find me east of here tomorrow.” He said, resting a hand on her head. A bold move on his part, but one that Elora allowed—even in her darkest form. He stood to his full height, and without a second thought, was gone as fast as he came.

She hadn’t a clue who he was, or what he was, but he did what he came here to do. For she longed to know more, just as he had wanted. The man knew she would seek him out the following day, and he would be awaiting her arrival till then.

That morning, Elora awoke—sore, and exhausted. She stood on shaken legs, naked and afraid. The sun shone perfectly into the cave, nearly blinding her as she used her hand as a shield—adjusting to the lighting.

She scavenged for her skirt and corset top that she discarded before her transition, and sighed as she put them back on. She could not live like this forever. She refused. There had to be another way—and maybe he was the way she was looking for.

The journey back to her village was a blur as she stumbled through the brush absentmindedly. She was the shell of the girl she was once. The girl she couldn’t seem to shake. The girl that was dead, who’s body she carried around with her since she couldn’t get rid of it.

Her people did not look her in the eye. They shut their doors in her face, and ushered their children away as if she were a plague. Eloras eyes watered, as they usually do every return to her home after a full moon. A reminder that she was, in fact, unwanted.

She sluggishly made her way through the village, eyes set onto the dirt paved path ahead of her to avoid the judgment of people that passed by till she reached her cottage.

Elora opened the door, expecting her family to be awake. She expected the smell of eggs to warm her nose, and the sound of her siblings laughter to fill her ears—but she didn’t. She heard nothing.

She walked through her empty home looking for any traces to where they were—and then it dawned on her.

They had left her.

She fell to her knees in despair, and a gut wrenching sob shook through her. She could not bear this pain any longer. Her whole life was filled with sorrow, anger, and yearning. She screamed, and screamed until she could no longer scream.

Elora tore her house apart—frames shattered with pictures torn apart, glass everywhere and book shelves knocked down. It was a waste of time, she knew taking her anger out like this would benefit nobody—but she had no other way to get it out.

She stalked through the town once more when night had fallen, consumed with nothing but a burning anger coming from deep within her core. A gruesome hatred for the village, and everyone in it.

She didn’t spare it a final glance as she set on her journey to meet the man on the east side of the cave. The man who she hoped would provide her with answers and maybe even a way to stop the monster inside of her from being revealed.

It felt different, this night. It was silent, no crickets to welcome her this time or angry wind howling at her as she trudged through the forgotten pathways of the forest. She had no fear, only a sense of yearning remained.

He sat on top of a large rock as though it were his throne, in all his glory. He peered down at her for a moment before he jumped down expertly, keeping a distance between them as to not shake her.

Eloras voice was caught in her throat. He was so much more beautiful than she had remembered in her wolfish haze. She felt like he was picking her apart from head to toe as his eyes burned holes through her delicate body, but she was at a loss for words.

“My darling, Elora. I’m happy you came to me.” He said with a smile. His voice sounded like velvet, and she knew she could listen to him for an eternity. “W-Who are you?” She finally said, after a moment of silence.

“My name is Klaus. I am, like you, a force against nature.” He responded, circling around her as though he were judging her. Eloras eyes widened—“Youu’re like me? You’re a wolf?” She asked.

Never in her lifetime had she met anyone else like her. She didn’t even know there was others like her. Her mortal life, she’d heard tales of men who shaped into wolves, but they were just campfire tales to spook the children. Elora was told they had all died off, and she was the last.

“Yes, I am. But I am also more than that.” He said with a nod. Elora furrowed her brows in confusion. “What do you mean? What more could you possibly be?” She asked, backing away from him as he got closer.

“I am a vampire, Elora. I am a hybrid. The only hybrid in existence.” He said. Klaus paused for a moment, seemingly thinking about something before he outstretched his hand towards her. “Come, we will return to your village and I will explain more.”

Elora shook her head. “I don’t want to ever go back there. That is no longer my home. They were never my people.” She responded bitterly. His eyes softened for a moment, and for a second, he could see himself in her. “Come. I will fix that.” He responded.

She looked at the hand he offered to her, and debated if this was all an elaborate plan for him to kill her. But the more she looked into his eyes, the deeper she fell—and she knew there was no return from their meeting. So, she took his hand, and he led her back to where she never truly left.

They stopped at the edge of her village. There was no light, no sound. The people were asleep, carefree and happy to be ridden of her.

“These people have hurt you, Elora, haven’t they?” He asked, though he already knew the answer very well. “Yes.” She said. Her eyes watered, and she had regret coming back instantly—but his hand never left hers.

As the tears fell down her cheeks, his grip on her hand tightened, almost as if he were trying to comfort her. “What if I told you I can make them pay for what they did to you?” He asked. Elora sniffled as she wiped away her tears with her free hand.

“What do you mean, Klaus?” She asked. He let go of her hand, and revealed a singular match that was hidden in his pocket. Eloras eyes widened, and before she could protest, the match was lit and her village was set ablaze in the blink of an eye.

“Klaus, there’s children!” She shrieked, attempting to run towards the burning village, only to be blocked by the powerful man. “Fret not, love, they’re taken care of. Safe and sound, I swear to it.” He said with a smile.

Eloras chest rose and fell as she heard screams of fear strike through the village, watching as a man she once knew ran out of his home, on fire. A tear fell down her cheek at the mayhem in front of her—but all Klaus could do was watch, almost as if he were admiring his work.

“H-How could you have done this?” Elora yelled through tears, turning to look at him. Her eyes he knew once were filled with hope were now filled with an unreadable emotion. Elora had no time to react before he was in front of her—their face mere inches apart.

His hands reached up, cupping her face delicately—almost as if he were afraid he’d break her. “Don’t you see, Elora? These people never cared about you. They wanted you to feel this hurt that burns inside of you. They treated you as if you were nothing. Do not feel remorse, for these people deserve to die.” He said, wiping away her fallen tears.

“Who are you?” She asked. For a moment, she forgot the world around her. She forgot what she was. She forgot the dying people behind her and the smoke that filled her lungs. She was lost in him, and that was how it started.

TAG LIST: @epthedream69 @claire-elvisgirl @elvisrealgf @littlehoneyposts @luxuriouslokistan-3 @jazminsjaz @www-interludeshadow-com @khxna @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @floredaqueen @peterpan-neverfails-blog @lemonadygirl @newavenger @bloobewy @vogueprincess @scintilla-morningstar @liv-n @armandosbabymama @axailslink @cosmixstar

[d1xonss]

could i request a oneshot where daryl is sick and y/n wants to help take care of him? just super fluffy stuff? thanks😙😙

Chicken Soup for the Soul

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 9

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : Fluff

✧ Word Count : 2.1k

AN ~ This request is so cute to me :,( I had so much fun writing it. Not much to update on today, but thank you to whoever suggested this! Hope you enjoy!

Alexandria had always been a place full of safety and comfort. With living behind the thick, tall walls and having some of your favorite people living only a few houses away, you absolutely loved the community you were a part of. The only downside now, was the cold months only getting colder.

Every time without fail during this time of year, it would get much colder than what everyone was used to all the time. Normally it would constantly be warm, almost scorching some days because of how harshly the sun baked your skin. But in the first few weeks of the new year, it felt like it was constantly freezing. Granted the temperature usually lingered in the thirties, it was far more frigid than what everyone around here was normally used to.

Which was why currently you were cuddled up on the couch, a fluffy blanket covering your lap and a book in your hands, reading in the dim light of your living room. You occasionally felt the warmth of the fire next to you creep up to provide even more heat whilst you passed the time, waiting for your husband to return home.

He currently was out on a run that had lasted a few days, though he promised he would be home sometime today at the latest. You were a bit weary of him going out in the first place, warning him that this weather was cold and unpleasant, not wanting him to be miserable out there. But he brushed everything off as the typical stubborn man would do, assuring you that he would be just fine and he could handle it. And though you knew he could, it still didn’t stop you from worrying the littlest bit while he was out.

But a sigh of relief passed through your chest as you began to hear the faintness of the familiar rumble of his motorcycle, signaling he had finally returned as he made his way down the streets. A smile spread across your face as you finished up the page you were on, before finding your bookmark and placing it in the spine, setting it off to the side just as you heard the engine of the bike shut off in your driveway. It felt like only a few seconds passed before you finally heard the front door opening, his heavy footsteps trailing inside.

“Hi honey.” you called softly as you swung your legs over the side of the couch, standing up to peer around the corner at him.

He grunted as he removed all the things from around his shoulders, looking up at you with a soft and tired smile, “Hey.” he spoke quietly, trudging over towards your frame to practically melt around you.

Your smile stretched even wider than before as you held him, rubbing his back soothingly as you heard him exhale deeply in relaxation. Just by feeling his tense and sore muscles around you, it was clear to sense how tired he really was, it was even written all over his face. The two of you stayed in each others arms for minutes in just peaceful silence, taking each other in after being apart for far too long.

But according to Daryl, even an hour was too long to be away from you. Meaning these past three days must've have been torture.

“How was the trip?” you asked softly, your voice being the one to break the silence that surrounded you.

He sniffled and cleared his throat as he nodded to confirm everything went fine, “Good.” he spoke, “Gotta couple crates of supplies.”

You hummed, “That’s good to hear…I’m glad you’re home.” you admitted quietly as you held onto him a little bit tighter.

His deep and vibrating laugh shook in his chest as he instantly seemed to agree, “Me too, baby girl.” he said before finishing his sentence with another sniffle.

You paused for a moment as you heard the small and distinct sound for a second time. Now that you really thought about it, he felt a lot warmer to you than usual as you continued to stay wrapped around him. It might’ve just been you reading too much into things, but something seemed a little off.

So you reluctantly pulled away from him then, seeing in his eyes now that he was utterly exhausted, “You okay?”

He nodded slow as you saw him swallow a bit thickly, “Yeah, just…just tired.” he confirmed.

But you weren’t convinced. Before he could process your next moves, you quickly raised the back of your hand up to his forehead to check his temperature. He sighed in defeat as your hand already made contact with his skin, your eyes widening upon feeling Satan's hellfire burning your hand at the simple touch. 

That may have been a little dramatic, but he felt quite warm.

“Honey, you’re burning up.” you said softly as your hand moved down to cradle the side of his face, “Are you sick?”

He scoffed as he opened his mouth to deny it, but instead, he quickly turned his face away and into his elbow to sneeze loudly, the sound practically bouncing off the walls.

Your eyes rolled, “So that’s a yes.”

“I ain’t sick.” he defended roughly as he turned back to face you again, “Maybe yer hand’s just cold.” he tried.

“Uh huh.” you muttered, “Then how do you explain the sniffles and that dramatic ass sneeze?” you asked with a tilted head.

He was silent for a long moment as his gaze stayed on the ground, trying to come up with a good reason other than the obvious. “Allergies?”

You scoffed, “You’re sick.” you concluded as you reached out to tilt his chin up so he would look you in the eye again, “Why don’t you head upstairs and hop in the shower. I’ll get you some medicine and I’ll make-”

“Nah, no, I’ll be just fine. Just need some rest is all.” he interrupted.

You couldn’t help but tilt your head at him a little as you silently knew why he was always so persistent about this kind of thing. Daryl always felt like he had to tough it out his whole life, act as if nothing phased him in the slightest as he carried nearly the weight of the world on his shoulders. The truth was it made him feel weak, asking others for help, having someone else take care of him, he felt he almost didn’t deserve it. 

But you on the other hand knew that he deserved everything and more. Sometimes it just took some reassurance to get him there.

“Sweetie, you are constantly taking care of me. Just let me take care of you.” you spoke sweetly and gently, your tone being enough for him to nearly cave right then and there.

Though he still looked unsure for a few more seconds, not wanting you to go through any trouble as he was capable of taking care of himself. He never wanted to bombard you with his needs as he was perfectly content with giving you everything you wanted, pretty much constantly waiting on you hand and foot. But still to this day for some reason, it felt odd to him receiving the same treatment though you had been doing it for years. You alone felt almost unreal sometimes to him. Like a dream.

But then you whispered one word, one single word that caused him to break. 

“Please?”

It didn’t matter when or how the word was used, but you and Daryl both knew that if you used that word to coax him into something he was prepared to deny, he would always fall apart instead. You had a certain effect on him that he still couldn’t quite describe.

So with that, he sighed heavily as he felt himself sniffle again, “Alright.” he agreed.

You smiled softly and gently grabbed one of his hands to place a kiss on the back of it, “Good. Head on upstairs and I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.” you promised.

His face broke out into a lopsided grin when he looked down at you, feeling a bit hazy from the illness he seemed to catch, his knees feeling weaker the longer he stood upright. Yet he still couldn’t help but smile at how unbelievably lucky he had gotten with you.

“Yes ma’am.” he eventually spoke, breaking away from you to slowly head up the long and dreaded staircase, preparing to head for the shower as you suggested.

You on the other hand went straight towards the kitchen, picking through the medicine cupboard before finding the right pill bottle to take up with you. After setting it down on the counter, you grabbed a larger pot and placed it over the stovetop, before rummaging around through the kitchen for ingredients. You planned to make him some chicken soup, one of his favorites when the weather got colder. He could probably inhale three bowls if given the chance.

You cut up the fresh vegetables along with the chicken, adding it all into the pot filled with broth to cook before adding the many noodles as well. You seasoned everything thoroughly and made sure to keep stirring it so it would be perfect, knowing he was probably starving from not only coming back from the long run, but from the sickness he picked up along the way. But once everything was done you placed it all on a tray to take up to your shared bedroom, even adding some water and crackers off to the side.

Stepping up the stairs slowly and carefully, you didn’t hear the water running and only assumed he was done by now as you entered the space carefully. And there he was lying in bed, his eyes closed until he heard the faintness of your movements, peaking them open again and seeing the amount of things you had brought up. It was written all over his face that he thought you did too much, but upon smelling the soup you continued to carry, he said nothing as if he suddenly remembered how hungry he really was.

He licked his lips as he eyed the tray, “Whatcha got?” he asked.

You laughed a little to yourself as you placed it down on his bedside table, “Well, the tylenol is for your fever, and the chicken soup is…for your soul.” you said proudly as you handed him the pill bottle first to take.

He huffed out a laugh, “Smells good.” he complimented as he took the medicine you provided for him along with a swig of water to wash them down.

You sat yourself at the edge of the bed, “Did the shower help at all?” you asked as you raised your hand again towards his forehead, still feeling very hot just as last time.

“A little.” he shrugged, “Still kinda warm though.”

You nodded to yourself as you noticed he was shirtless, the blankets wrapped only around his legs as the rest of him was exposed to the colder air. But you then got another idea that would help, telling him to wait momentarily before you trailed off back to the bathroom. You grabbed a washcloth out of the closet tucked away in the corner before running the material under some cool water, bringing it back to gently place on his forehead.

He sighed at the feeling as his eyes temporarily closed again, only opening once more to look towards you and the things you brought, “Ya did too much.” he commented quietly.

You tilted your head at him, “No I didn’t.” you insisted, “In fact, I didn’t do nearly enough. I want to take care of you, I always do. Please just let me from time to time…okay?”

His tired eyes stared at you for a long moment, before he was slowly nodding his head in agreement, “Okay.”

A smile was brought to your face knowing that it was getting to be easier for him to accept the help, before it was replaced with a teasing smirk as you eyed the soup he had yet to touch. “You want me to feed you?” you joked.

He scoffed, “Nah. Then ya would be doin too much.” he said before leaning over and grabbing the bowl himself.

You laughed a little before nodding your head, “Well, is there anything else you need? Anything at all?” 

He didn’t hesitate as he spoke his next words clearly, “Just you…can ya stay with me?” he asked as if he didn’t already know the answer.

But he did, he knew the answer quite well. Though a part of him just wanted that last bit of reassurance that you wouldn’t leave his side, wanting to hear you say it.

“Of course.” you promised sweetly, leaning over the smallest bit to place a kiss on top of his head, “I’m not going anywhere.”

~ Thanks for reading!

[undiscovered-horizon]

Cinderella - Nikolai Lantsov x Reader

SUMMARY: Nikolai is a party person, you're not. But he's also a fool in love, so when you quietly disappear, he wastes no time finding you.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.5k

>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist<<

☽ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ☾

Nikolai didn’t notice your sudden disappearance right away. He can’t exactly be blamed for that - he wasn’t given a chance to. With the mob of aristocrats and silk stockings flocking to him without mercy or patience, Nikolai’s attention could only take so much. They all wanted to shake the king’s hand, tell him a witty remark or confess how much they were enjoying the evening. He was, however, disillusioned by their pompous words - throughout years he’s learned to quickly catch on to the kernel of truth covered with layers of exaggerated epithets and sophisticated lexicon.

Only when the nobility and magnates spread out through the castle, taking advantage of the rare goods imported just for the ball, did Nikolai feel like he was forgetting something. He looked around the lavish ballroom in search of you, even just a glimpse of your dress or your hair. Alas, he saw none. Logically, he knew you were not in any kind of danger but lovers rarely are reasonable. There’s this strange itchiness in the back of his head that made his fingertips and feet tingle. In a room full of people, he felt uncomfortably lonely without you next to him; the world felt strangely wrong when you were not around.

He walked through the crowded halls asking about you - Grisha, guests, guards, no one seemed to have seen you recently. Despite the audible uneasiness in his voice, he dismissed any questions regarding your assumed well-being. Truthfully, the inquiries were only slightly misguided. You were probably perfectly fine and it was he who was sick with yearning because of your absence. Not sure what to do or where to continue his search, Nikolai simply marched forward, hoping to miraculously bump into you at some point. After all, what kind of miserable night is it going to be for him if he can’t dance even one time with his beloved queen?

Then, a gust of cold wind tugs at his clothes. His eyes look towards the direction of the night breeze only to discover one of the balcony doors being cracked open. Could it be…?

Nikolai approaches the windowed door with hopeful vigour. His heart stops for a moment, only to resume beating at a feverish pace:

As if unbothered by the grand ball, you’re leaning against the guardrail of the balcony, watching the starry sky. Moonlight washes over your silhouette, painting you more of a creature of dreams rather than reality. Cold wind tugs and waves the hem of your lavender gown but you don’t seem to mind it. To Nikolai, you appear almost inhuman like he just stumbled upon a dryad that got too caught up in looking at the moon and forgot to hide from the human gaze. It must be by the Saints’ mercy that he’s the one to not only admire the nymph but hold her heart as his own.

“You come here often, красивая девица?”

Startled, you turn around to look at the unexpected guest. Upon seeing Nikolai’s face, you sigh and let your shoulders relax - you can discard all of your facades around him without ever hearing a word of criticism. Without thinking about it, your lips curve into a smile.

“Only when I need a moment to breathe,” you answer before turning back to look at the sky again.

Nikolai leans on his arm against the guardrail. His watchful gaze studies the side of your face, his thoughts slipping away to gush about your beauty, while he’s trying to keep his focus on the more important matter that is checking up on you. The longer his eyes trail your features, the more he grows convinced that you are, in fact, a dryad and have put some kind of spell on him that has bound his thoughts to you.

“You worried me, love,” he speaks softly, as though he’s afraid his words might further spoil your mood, “disappearing so suddenly.”

With an apologetic look on your face, you meet his gaze. “I’m sorry. I just…” You look away for a moment, gathering thoughts. “It all became a little too much: the people, the noise. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

Nikolai brings your hand to his lips and places a soft kiss on your wedding ring. “I will always worry for you.” The gold jewellery glistens in the pale, silvery moonlight.

 Part of you still finds it hard to believe that a man of his sort is doting on you. Funnily enough, he’s thinking the same - what unimaginable machinations of the universe blessed him with you taking his name?

A comfortable silence falls between the two of you. The noise of people enjoying the evening is distant and muffled like it’s coming from another reality, somewhere far from the microcosm of the balcony. As mentioned before, lovers tend to belong to another species. Nikolai and you are just staring at each other with complete devotion in your eyes, silently exchanging confessions and oaths even death can’t quite break.

The sound of someone walking past the balcony door pulls you back to reality. Although the awakening is not welcome, you find it necessary. “Shouldn’t you be getting back to your guests, мой царь? They came from far away to meet their king.”

“Oh, please, they didn’t come here for me. Why else attend a ball if not to admire the queen?”

“That’s your reason for attending.” Nikolai doesn’t find it in himself to lie and deny the accusation. “Most people just want to dance, talk and have a bit of caviar.”

Jokingly, he puts a hand on his chest. “Are you calling me special?”

You only shake your head and bite your lower lip but it’s not enough to stop the wide smile from spreading across your face. “I never said that.”

Nikolai frowns at your denial but the playful glint in his blue eyes rids his expression of all seriousness. “No, I’m pretty sure I just heard you say ‘Nikolai, you’re the most amazing man I have ever met’. Why, thank you. I must agree.”

His half-serious cockiness makes you laugh out loud. If he didn’t look pathetic before, he surely does now: the king of Ravka, staring at you with a soft smile and a dreamy gloss in his eyes. For a moment, he’s not noble in any way, shape or form. Nikolai is just a man - a man who gladly traded deference for love. Your laughter rings in his ears, his yearning mind hoarding the beautiful sound as though it desperately needs it for survival. Even the efforts of the talented orchestra are drowned out by your happiness as there is no other music he wishes to listen to.

Only when you’ve stopped laughing does he continue the conversation, never daring to interrupt something he adores so much: “Are you feeling better, милая?”

“I will soon.”

The orchestra finished one of the more upbeat pieces and in a true show of their expertise, they smoothly transition to a slow, sombre tune. Because of the distance between the balcony and the grand ballroom, the music is muffled as though the artists are performing their song in a nearly-forgotten dream; as if the soft tune belongs to another realm.

“In the meantime,” he says as he offers you his hand, “may I have this dance?”

You only giggle as you put your palm on top of his. Soon, you’re slowly swaying to the distant melody with his arm protectively wrapped around your waist. It’s not an actual ballroom dance, so you feel no embarrassment in comfortably placing your face against his shoulder. Out there, among lords and magnates, maybe this would be considered too casual but on the balcony, it’s the only way one should dance. The time seems to stop as you and Nikolai rock to the rhythm of the sombre tune. 

After what feels like both seconds and hours, you lift your head off his shoulder. Nikolai’s dreamy stare is following your small movements, never missing as much as a twitch of a muscle. If he could, he’d engrave your face on his eyelids, so he doesn’t have to go more than a few seconds without seeing you.

“As much as I appreciate your concern,” you begin quietly, as though raising your voice might burst this little bubble of careless romance, “you don’t have to run after me anytime I need to get away for a moment.”

Nikolai answers in an equally low voice: “I also don’t have to kiss your beautiful face but I just can’t help myself, you know?”

You’re still giggling when you feel his lips against yours. It’s sweet and tender and absolutely consuming. There’s a certain intensity to this kiss - the passion known only to those obsessed with something, whose intrinsic instincts can’t just casually enjoy the object of their desire. His warm lips feel perfectly moulded for yours as he’s silently pouring the contents of his heart for the world to see.

____

красивая девица [kra-see-va-ya de-vi-tza] -> beautiful girl

мой царь [moy tzar] -> my tsar/king

милая [me-la-ya] -> 1. darling, sweetheart 2. cute

[sp0-t]

•.⦿ FORCED CLOSE PROXIMITY ⦿.•

MIGUEL O’HARA X gn!READER

SUMMARY ⦿.•

miguel is your close friend, you’ve been friends even before the death of his daughter. he confided in you for everything, always valuing your opinion above the rest. more recently he had put an unwanted distance between you two, although, thanks to lyla a “malfunction” occurs, forcing you and miguel in a close proximity.. which leads to more

GENRE ⦿.•

smut version

(begins after the second picture)

WARNINGS ⦿.•

smut! penetration! pet names! demanding Miguel! slight biting! unprotected sex! (be better) brief cum play? fingering! making out!

5 days ago… that’s when it first started, him avoiding you. Your stares, your voice, your scent, your presence… you. The reason was unclear to you, you thought about it over and over wondering what it could possibly be.

You couldn’t even enter his vicinity without him walking out the room. However trying to sneak up on someone in an hq full of spider-people, including Miguel, wasn’t easy. He’d always sense you, leading him to stop whatever he was doing and leave the room. Watching this always made you sad, wondering what you could’ve done to cause this, but also feeling a bit ticked off at the audacity he had to avoid you.

Day 6, you had caught up with some spider-people, specifically Hobie and Miles. You had already known Hobie, do to his longer presence at hq. Still the younger boy, miles, intrigued you. He had come far for his young age and short year being spider-man.

You three were simply talking, just chatting, however it was cut short when an alert from your watch caught your attention. You look down, gazing upon the bright light.

O’Hara: Report, now.

seen 1 min

You knew he was serious with the “now” added at the end. staring at it for a bit too long, racking in your brain why this man would now want to talk to you. after six damn days he finally wants to confront you. At least, that’s what half of you was thinking, the other half was wondering if he would finally come clean and tell you everything that had happened. What caused him to go quiet for so long.

“Everything alright there?”

Hobie looked at you with confusion in in his eyes. Finally peeling your eyes away from your wrist you look at Hobie and Miles.

“Yeah, uh I gotta go. I’ll talk to you guys later.”

You walked off and waved them a goodbye, giving them a smile. You were overthinking the whole walk to Miguel’s “office”. Many things were running through your brain, so many that you hadn’t realized you were already in front of the door. Letting out a breath, you twist the handle and push the door open.

“Finally, I swear you like to waste my time.”

Of course, of course he had an attitude. Of course he didn’t know that you had been worried sick for him over the past 6 days. No, stubborn Miguel always had to act high and mighty on his platform.

“Are you serious?”

The look of confusion that Miguel gave you was almost laughable.

“What, did I say something that gave you the idea I wasn-”

“6. Days. It’s been 6 days before you’ve even given me the time of day. Now here I am, standing in front of you hoping, begging you’re finally going to tell me what’s wrong. But instead I get an insult!”

An exasperated laugh leaves your mouth, it’s almost amusing really. How you thought he would tell you something, anything, about what was keeping him quiet.

“I don’t know what your talking about.”

He crosses his arms over each other and looks to the side with a little scowl on his face. You sling your web, attaching to his platform, tossing your body onto the platform only mere inches from his own.

“You have some nerve you know that O’Hara.”

Jabbing your finger into his chest forcefully

“Last I checked you liked that about me~”

“Yeah well last I checked you weren’t avoiding me.”

“I-“

He stopped himself before he could go on.

“I have to go.”

He started to walk off the platform until his watch went off. It was blaring, so loud you had to cover your ears to try and muffle the sounds.

“What the hell is going on!”

Miguel kept smacking his watch, aggressively pressing random things to try and turn it off. Before any of you knew what was going on, a disk erupted from the watch. The force field erupted, surrounding the both of you.

“Lyla! What’s happening?!”

No reply was ever heard

“Damnit!”

He pounded his first on the force field. Trying to claw his way through it, doing anything to get out.

“You already know that’s not going to work, you’re the one who designed these things to be impenetrable. As much as you hate it, you’re stuck with me.”

He let out a heavy sigh accepting somewhat of a defeat.

“I don’t hate you, I could never.”

He looks up at you with sorrow and regret in his eyes. You could already smell the apology that wanted, so desperately, to roll off his tongue and come out between his lips.

“Then explain to me why.”

“Because… I realized something about me, something I didn’t want to admit to you or myself.”

You move forward with caution, still not sure what boundaries are okay to cross at the moment. Your hand eventually meets his shoulder, rubbing up and down with comfort. Your other hand moves towards his face which was turned to his right. Adjusting his face to look at yours.

“Miguel, I have know you for so long, and no matter what you tell me. You will always have me by your side.”

He grabbed your hand with his, holding it gently. The look in his eyes was a mix of emotions; pain, sadness, regret, longing, but most importantly… love. He moved closer, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into him as if you would simply evaporate from his grasp at any moment.

“I love you…”

Silence. That’s all that could be heard for about 3 minutes, Miguel’s grip tightening as if you were going to push him away any second. Your arms made there way around his body, grabbing at his shirt and your face in his broad shoulder as you processed what he said. You, we’re crying, you didn’t know why or even when it happened you just knew that one moment your cheeks were wet from tears. Then you felt it, the droplet that fell onto the back of your neck, Miguel… was crying.

“Why are you crying?”

You let out a little chuckle, him pulling you even closer as he sniffled.

“I’m not, you are!”

“Yeah, I am. I finally got to hear those words.”

He took his face out of your neck, exposing his tear stained face to you. You placed your hand on his face, gently wiping away his ongoing tears. You stood up a bit to kiss his cheeks then his forehead.

“I haven’t heard you say it.”

Both of you looked deep into each others eyes, bodies still close, and your hands still on his face.

“I love you Miguel O’Hara.”

That’s all it took for his hands to softly grab your face and kiss you, those three words that could so effortlessly make Miguel O’Hara bend to your will.

(smut below)

His hands were on your waist in mere seconds, showing you just how desperate he was. However you already knew by him pulling you in flush against his front. Your groins getting the sweet friction they so desired. You pulled away slightly muttering a curse.

“Everything okay?”

He looked at you with such worry and concern, a hint of lust that had only started to grow.

“Yeah, just, been wanting that for so long.”

He placed his forehead against yours, creating an intimate atmosphere. His eyes gazed into yours as yours gazed back. Bringing one of his hands up from your hip, he placed it on your cheek. You learned into his touch finding comfort in it, in him.

“We can stop amor, we don’t have to go on.”

“No, I want this. I want you.”

He leaned forward pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

“I want you too.”

And with that you were both on each other. Your arms were wrapped around his neck, as he gently pushed your back against the wall of the force field. Tongues were synchronized with each other, and noses were pushing against one another. You started to pull away, Miguel following your lips still wanting more. You giggled and covered his lips before he could place them back on your own.

“can’t breathe.”

“Good, I should always leave you breathless.”

He placed a kiss on your palm that was covering his mouth

“Only me.”

He slowly dragged his hand to the back zipper of your suit. Teasingly, slowly, pulling it lower and lower. Giving small bites and kisses to each spot that would expose itself to him. Your shoulders, your chest, your stomach, and eventually your legs.

“All mine, you’re mine.”

He whispered between kisses. Miguel was on his knees now, holding onto your sides as he kept leaving kisses. His hand gravitated towards your ass, giving it a slight squeeze. Miguel stood up again standing face to face with you once again.

“I need you.”

“Then take me.”

That set off Miguel, he easily picked you up, wrapping your legs around him. His lips marking your neck, pulling quiet moans from you. Before you could think properly you saw that Miguel’s suit was off. Miguel pulled away from your neck. Holding you with one hand, the other on his cock slowly stroking it, bringing it up to your entrance.

“I’m going to put it in, is that okay, mi amor?”

You looked down at where his cock was rubbing against you, finally seeing his size scared you a bit. You could already tell you were going to be sore the next morning.

“Yes, please Miguel.”

“Of course, mi amor.”

He whispered in your ear, slowly sliding it in. You had never taken anyone his size before, however he took it slow, aware of the pain and discomfort you would fist feel. He was less than halfway when he looks up at you.

“Tell me if it’s to much, we can st-“

“No! Please, don’t! I need this, I need you!”

With that Miguel bottomed out in you, erupting a moan from both of you. He then began to slowly slide out again, only to thrust back in with a bit of force, causing you to let out a little yelp.

He let out a slight chuckle at the sound you made, he pressed his lips to yours in a chaste kiss. As soon as his lips left yours, he started to move his hips, slowly sliding his cock in and out of your entrance.

“Like that?~”

He leaned in and whispered into your ear, it sounded like more of a statement than it did a question.

“Yes, Miguel. Please, please…”

Your face was buried in his shoulder from embarrassment and desperation. Miguel’s hand made it’s way to your head, grabbing at your hair. Pulling your head back to make direct eye contact with you.

“Hey, use your words. Behave like I know you can, and tell me what you want.”

His tone is soft yet still demanding of you. The longing eye contact that he holds with you as he awaits your answer, sends shivers down your spine. Suddenly he send a thrust up into you.

“Tell me what you want from me…”

He leans into your ear

“Before I take you the way I want, and fuck you till your legs go fucking numb.”

Another thrust from him sends through you. A moan escaping the confines of your mouth.

“Y-you, I want you Miguel. I’ve always wanted you.”

Your lips reached up to his, both pressing against each other in want and bliss. Miguel started to move his hips, causing you to moan into the kiss. He continued his movements, his only mission being to please you.

As he starts to pick up his thrusts, his head falls to the crook of your neck. A trail of kisses and light bite marks are left behind. You let out whimpers as Miguel groans in your ear, both not far from total bliss.

“Miguel… I-im getting clo-“

“Can I come inside?”

The question left you a bit stunned, not expecting it.

“Yes!”

“Good, cause I wasn’t planning on fucking pulling out.”

And with a few more thrusts, you were filled with more than just his cock. His excess dripping out of you, his fingers find there way down and push his cum back into you. Your body collapsing on his

“Can you stand?”

“I-I think so.”

You try and stable yourself, wobbling a bit in the process. Miguel’s hands hovering over your body, in case you were to fall. Once he knows for sure your stable, he walks over to grab your suit off the floor. He helps you get dressed, bringing his suit back as well.

Once you both were composed he leans in for a kiss, your hands travel to his hair, welcoming the kiss. His hold on you is tight as if you would leave at any second.

“You guys done yet?”

A familiar voice causing you both to pull your lips apart.

“Gosh you guys are loud, whole damn HQ could hear you.”

You both turned to face a small Lyla hologram, a look of smugness on her face. With a snap of Lyla’s fingers the force field was down.

“You caused this?”

Miguel’s fingers were pinching at his nose bridge

“I swear, I’ll rewire you into a mindless bot.”

“Hey! I did you a favor.”

She suddenly appeared beside you

“He would never stop gushing about you, or admiring you.”

Miguel lunged forward trying to grab the hologram, it was no use, as she was gone in a second only to reappear once again.

“Nice try lover boy.”

And with that she was gone, leaving you and Miguel. You walked towards Miguel, placing your hands on his face.

“Come on, let’s go.”

You both swung off the platform, walking away in the distance.

“See,all you need is a little forced close proximity..which leads to more.”

This Fan Fiction is written, owned, and published by: @sp0-t ©️

DO NOT: Republish, Rewrite, Translate, OR, Steal My Work Without My Consent (please and thank you)

[odessastone]

NEW LIFEWEAVER AND SYMMETRA LORE BITS FROM "REBUILDING RUINS"

So I got my copy of Heroes Ascendant today and THERE WERE SO MANY GOOD LITTLE MOMENTS IN THIS STORY I MUST gush I MUST

So here are some new bits of Symmetra and Lifeweaver lore that we got! I bolded my personal favorite ones. 😚

(spoilers!)

Satya and Niran "grew up together" as friends, so they were friends in childhood too, not just at a teen or university age.

Apparently when Satya would get overstimulated and need recovery time, Niran would keep people away from their room and tell them she was sick so she didn't have to face anyone 😭

He also used to hang out and watch her practice her dancing for hours on end, without ever getting tired of it.

Satya considered (possibly still considers) Niran her closest friend.

Niran is late to everything (CALLED this one). He's even late for their meeting LOL

"He looked good. Satya almost wished he didn't." Bits like this are going to feed my Symweaver ass for YEARS

Satya is (still) extremely hurt by Niran leaving all those years ago, and perceives it as him having left her, not just Vishkar. She still misses him dearly, even though they've been apart for eleven years.

Speaking of which, being apart for eleven years means Niran was twenty when he left the Academy. For all you fellow fic authors out there 😊

Satya's autism is stated, full-out, no dancing around it or talking about being on "the spectrum". They flat out say "her autism" in a sentence. Cool!

One of Niran's first questions upon reconnecting with Satya is if Vishkar is mistreating her, if she needs help. Of course she denies this, but...

Niran can read Satya's emotions without her saying them, and even while thinking she's hiding them 😭 Several times throughout the story she's surprised because he cuts right through her stoic bullshit and gets right to how she feels about something.

The Architech Academy was really overwhelming for Satya, and it sounds like they made no effort to accommodate her needs. Unsurprising, considering they didn't accommodate Niran's, either.

Vishkar fiercely discouraged her from stimming, instilling in her a fear of looking "immature, or distracted, or rude, or strange".

She gave a speech at graduation, then had to spend a full week in bed afterward to recover from all the stress. And there was no Niran to guard her by then ☹

Even now, she finds many things about Vishkar overstimulating and uncomfortable, such as her uniform's fabric, and her living quarters.

Satya called Niran "Bua" way back when, possibly the first person to use the nickname for him. Partway through the story the narration (from Satya's POV) actually switches to calling him that, which is cute.

The Arcology seems to have uh, basically no real protection against attacks... Null Sector just shows up on a train and starts blasting lol. This is something I address in my fic The Light You Deserve, so it was kinda funny to see that I was right in predicting that.

She feels comfortable enough around Niran by the end to stim around him without realizing it (apparently she taps her fingers together and twirls her hands in circles, I guess kind of like flapping). She immediately stops and is embarrassed when he points it out, but Niran encourages her instead. She then uncertainly stims in front of him, growing more relaxed and confident as she lets herself do so (this had to be my favorite part of the story).

Toward the end they double down on Satya's belief that she can change Vishkar from the inside (girl....) but then at the VERY end, Niran suggests she look more into the founder of Vishkar and his ideals, and then says that "The Arcology will be delighted to have you". SHE MIGHT DEFECT TO THE ARCOLOGY IN CANON AND BE WITH NIRAN HHHHH AAAA sorry this was supposed to be an unbiased list I'm cool I'm cool

AAAAAA I'M NOT COOL I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

THIS WAS EVERYTHING I COULD HAVE WANTED IN A STORY BETWEEN THEM okay minus the random Null Sector attack tbh that was weird

Anyway the very last line says that Satya now has "whenever she needed it, a friend to return to". So they're definitely gonna interact more going forward!!

[justanothersanjilover]

My Name on your tongue

Part 2

Paring: Zosan (maybe Sanzo, too)

Soulmate AU

Triggers: Child abuse, mentioned human experiments, mild self-harm, swear words

Eight years old

The room was dark and quiet…Sanji knew the false safety by now. Judge would be here any moment. His body shook all over, and his sobs came muffled through the cloth in his mouth. Sure enough, the light above him flickered to life and burned in his eyes. The door slammed shut and made him flinch.

“Let’s see what we can do today,” his father’s voice sounded beside him.

Sanji swallowed and almost choked on his spit. He couldn't understand what his father was doing to his body…he only knew that it hurt and left him unconscious almost every single time. He hated it! But he had to endure it to please him, and maybe…maybe he’d be able to become like his siblings and get his familiar.

Sanji’s thoughts were wiped away when pain shot through his little body. He screamed against the cloth and pulled on the leather straps that tied his arms and legs to the table. Fighting against the tears, he watched his father.

Eyes cold as steel and a frown on his face, Judge stood there watching his failure of a son being weak as ever. The electroshocks he just was able to endure without passing out wouldn't even tickle his siblings. Almost disgusted, Judge turned away and hit a button on the terminal behind him. He heard Sanji scream once more - this time even higher - before his voice broke. Another push of the button and the electroshocks stopped. Looking back, Judge saw Sanji lying there, unconscious. He was furious because he couldn't handle the shocks even after weeks of trying to build his endurance up. Without another glance, Judge left the room.

~

Sanji sat in the forest, far away from his family. Here was the only place he could relax without having to worry about not hearing footsteps. For one, the animals were his friends - they warned him minutes before his siblings approached, and he could make a run for it. And there was no one expecting anything from him. He could just exist, and he longed for that feeling! He longed for just to be himself! 

In these minutes, sometimes even hours, he felt happy and at ease. Sanji knew he would never be able to let his guard down completely, but being in the forest felt a lot like that.

Watching the clouds above him, his hands rubbed his ankles where bruises had started to form - alongside the ones on his wrists. Whatever his father was doing to him, it didn't work. He wasn't getting stronger or anything. On the contrary! He felt weaker whenever he woke up in the lab and had to free himself and walk to his room. With a red face, he remembered that almost every time he wet himself. He always hoped and prayed to any god he could think of that his siblings would see his wet pants. The prayers seemed to help - for now - because he made it to his room without any encounter.

He washed his pants in the sink and dried them by hanging them from the window. No one of the staff should have to wash his pee-stained clothes. With a red face, Sanji shook his head. He needed to get stronger!

~

“No food for today!” Judge’s voice made him recoil.

Sanji stared at his father. It was the third day without food. He needed to eat! He needed it badly! He could feel himself getting weaker! The drywall of his room didn't taste good, but it suppressed the sick feeling in his stomach - at least for a bit.

“Please, father! I’m so hungry! Please! Just let me have a slice of bread! I can’t…” Sanji cried, earning a hit from his father - he was too weak to even react to it.

“A true Vinsmoke doesn't beg!”

“I know…I…”

Sanji tried to get on his feet but failed. He crashed against the floor at full force and wasn't able to get up again. He felt the unconsciousness creeping into his body.

When he woke up again, he didn't know how much time had passed. His eyes wouldn't stay open for another ten minutes. His mouth felt dry, and his ears were ringing.

He looked around and saw stone walls and iron bars. He knew the place he was in - the dungeon. He was lying in one of the cells…again. Frequently, his father used this as a punishment for him. Sanji hated it. The twilight played tricks on his mind, showing him figures and monsters where there was nothing. He was only allowed to eat old bread and drink horrible water. He always got sick after he ate the food, but it was better than nothing.

But it could be everything from an hour to a day until he was allowed to eat again. His stomach hurt from the hunger and the dirt he’d eaten in his room - simply because he had to! He had to stop his tummy from aching and grumbling all the time. The bits of the wall he could scratch off helped for some time. But he knew it was bad to do that. The doctor told him this after the last time. He even made himself throw up after he realized it wouldn't help much.

Now? He really considered eating the sand under his feet. Hugging his tummy, he leaned against the wall and cried silently.

After an endless seeming time, a guard came to him and handed him a tray of stale bread and slightly murky water. He placed it on the ground in front of Sanji and watched as he scrambled to his feet and almost threw himself on the food. Sanji had to choke the food down and physically stop himself from throwing up. He didn't know when he would get the next meal.

In the end, he sat for two days in the dungeon and got a meal once per day. On the third, a guard took him up to his room. Despite knowing he should go clean himself, Sanji couldn't do much more than lie on his bed and cry again.

~

„Useless…useless…useless!“

Sanji‘s voice echoed through his bathroom. His fist was hitting the wall for every „useless“ coming from his mouth. His knuckles were bursted and the tiles were already bloody. The pain helped to calm his racing mind.

In the morning his father had taken him and his siblings to the training ground and made them race each other - the catch wasn’t only the race, but the Parcours they had to get through. Spiked with big holes he couldn’t jump over, firewalls he had to walk around, weapons firing at them (which made him stop completely because he wasn’t bulletproof!), and, on top of that, mines which detonated when coming within a five foot radius. One of them threw Sanji against Niji and his brother started to beat him up, because now he would lose and it was Sanji‘s fault.

The uncountable bruises on his body made every move hurt and his mind screamed at him how worthless he was in his fathers voice. Another punch thrown against the wall and he cried out in pain.

Sinking to the floor he held his bloody hand and swallowed the tears down. He managed not to tear up and break out in pathetic cries (he didn’t even know what pathetic meant, but his father always said it to him). He could do what he wanted, he‘d never be as good or strong or fast as his siblings…

~

A few months later Judge had enough of his useless son. He wanted him gone and so he threw him in the dungeon again.

Sanji woke up, almost unable to raise his head. With a groan he lifted his hand to feel what was holding him down. It was iron, enclosing his head and only leaving a window he could see through. He tried to pull the helmet off, but failed. His head started to hurt shortly after. The pressure was too much. It took a whole day until he was able to lift his head more or less properly. And another for him to sit up without having to lean against the wall. All this time he called for help, for an explanation, for his father to come and let him out…for his mother to take him with her. He called Sora‘s name almost every day and when he dreamed, he saw her smile and heard her voice telling him it was fine. But it wasn’t!

„What did I do?!“ Sanji cried after the sixth day without seeing any living person.

He got food, so they haven’t forget about him. But he never saw someone bringing it down and taking the empty trays. It was weird and creepy because they need to watch him closely to know when he was sleeping. There also was a bucket for him to use as toilet, which he only did when he really needed to!

On the ninth day he finally heard footsteps and hope welled up in his little heart - hope that this was simply another way of punishment from his father. But it wasn’t Judge coming to get him. His brothers appeared in front of the cell and grinned like little devils!

„Look at him,“ Niji laughed, grabbing the iron bars. „Caged like an animal ready to be left alone.“

Sanji tried not to look at them.

„More like weakling who can‘t bend the bars.“ Ichiji giggled, actually bending one bar slightly before putting it back how it was.

„Enjoy your stay down here, failure!“ Yonji laughed.

Sanji thought they would go away after their little rant, but they stayed. Mocking him, laughing at him, throwing rock’s at him - aiming for the slit in his helmet to actually hit his face. Sanji turned away and cowered down against the wall to shield himself as much as possible. For the first time in the past days he was thankful for the iron bars because without them his brothers surely would beat him up again. And so they could only insult him and throw stuff at him.

But it didn’t stay that way. Two days later, they came down again, and this time, they brought the key to his cell. They went in, beat him up, shoved some moldy food in his mouth, and made him swallow. He was sick for two days after that - so much that he thought he had to die.

This went on for two weeks. Sanji had tried to get rid of the helmet. First with his fingers, then with a pointy stone. He had cut the back of his neck and bled so much he thought he‘d die. It was the first time a guard came into his cell to check on him. In his delirious state of mind he wasn’t able to interact with the man tending to his wound and he soon disappeared again. After that, his brothers stopped coming by and beating him up - maybe the guard had told his father about his condition and he made them stop. Or maybe it got boring because the thrill of the hunt wasn’t there.

One day, heavier footsteps sounded and as Sanji raised his head, he saw Judge in front of the cell.

“Father…” he mumbled - not being able to do anything more.

“Don't call me that! I’m not your father! I don't have a failure as a son.”

“I…”

Judge silenced him only with a stare. He took out a key a opened the cell, before turning and leaving again. Sanji wasn't sure what that meant…was he allowed to leave? Could he even leave without help? Would he be punished if he stepped outside of the cell? He wouldn't take the risk! So he stayed where he was for two more days.

“Are you that weak?”

Sanji raised his head, ignoring the pain shooting through it. Reiju was standing in front of him. Her gaze was cold, but Sanji thought he could see concern underneath all the ice.

“Why?” He mumbled.

“Because you haven't even tried to leave this cell.”

Sanji watched her closely and then let his head sink back against the wall behind him.

“I don't know if I’m allowed to,” he said with closed eyes. “Fath…Judge came down, opened the door and left. He didn't say I could come out.”

Reiju grinned and held out a hand.

“You did well, that was what he wanted. You can come out now.”

All of Sanji’s tiny body wanted was to take her hand and be led out of the cell and the dungeon. He had to hold himself back with all his remaining willpower - or maybe it was his survival instinct? So he shook his head as much as possible with the heavy helmet and stayed where he was.

Reiju’s concern showed more and more through her cold facade, and Sanji wondered if she really was as heartless as he thought all this time. At this moment, she almost looked like their mother…almost.

“Come on, I’ll take you up and help you get rid of the helmet,” she said.

“No…” His voice was small, almost inaudible. “I’ll go when Judge says I can. I’m not risking to stay down here because I disobeyed…”

Reiju let her hand sink and looked somewhat bewildered.

“You are a weakling, after all. Three weeks down here and your will is broken. No wonder Father sees you as a failure.”

And with that, she left.

Sanji cried when he couldn't hear her footsteps anymore. Yes, he was a failure, he knew that by now. Was all this really just to test him? Just to test how long it would take for him to break? And he failed that test like so many before. Sanji clawed his little hands in his arms to numb the overwhelming feeling of self-hate and disgust. He felt his chipped, sharp nails dig in so deep they drew blood. He could feel it trickle down his arm and heard the pit-pat of it dripping on the stone floor.

Another three days passed until Judge came down again to look at the failure he had to call son. Sanji looked up at him with pleading eyes…he wanted to punch him, to break him and put him back together as the great soldier he could have been without his stupid wife’s intervention! Now? He got a weak little kid, not even withstanding a basic interrogation technique he could encounter if he would someday work as one of his soldiers.

“If you can make it up the stairs, I’ll take the helmet off,” Judge said, voice as cold as his look.

He didn't wait for an answer. Part of him actually thought Sanji would just stay in the dungeon and die there. So he was surprised when he could hear the scratching sound of feet dragging over the stone floor and the short and painful huffs of breath. Still, it would take another day for Sanji to climb all the way up the long staircase.

Prev/next

First part