#I have a tw verse on here too

[universestreasures]

The Song Of Memory (A Kisara & Ishizu Drabble)

"We've been expecting you, Miss Utahara."

The greeting is given as soon as the singer steps out of the car by the one she had contacted on Yugi Muto's recommendation, the very woman who was claimed to have the answers to all her many questions regarding the strange occurrences that had been going on recently. Kisara had traveled a great distance to meet with Ishizu Ishtar today, and without her sister, no less. While Shiori's company was to be expected and preferred in most situations, she had specifically requested she attend this meeting alone. This meeting was regarding Kisara's own circumstances, ones she didn't want to burden her sister with when she already had so much on her plate.

Upon walking towards the tomb keeper, who herself was accompanied by two bodyguards, the singer bowed her head in respect. This was not only a custom, but also a sign of gratitude. For securing this meeting had been of high importance to her ever since she learned that the answers she was looking for could be found with the elder woman.

"Thank you for taking the time to meet with me, Miss Ishtar. Considering your important position, I imagine you must be very busy. I very much appreciate you being able to fit me into your schedule."

"Of course. Now, will you please follow me? There is much for us to see and discuss." The woman gestures towards the entrance of the tomb, Kisara giving her a nod as she follows her down the dimly lit staircase. The two bodyguards then moved to guard the location's entrance. Seems they would have total privacy for this conversation, thankfully.

"This tomb is the current resting place of some of the relics that were once on display in Domino City's history museum. I originally brought them to Japan in hopes they would inspire the current generation of duelists, but with that task having been completed some time ago, they have been returned to their homeland."

"I see...So, that must be why you said we could not meet in Japan. You wanted to make sure I could see the relics, right?"

"Precisely. I hope these relics can inspire you Miss Utahara in the same way they both inspired Pegasus J. Crawford to create the game of Duel Monsters...and Seto Kaiba to host and battle in the Battle City tournament.

"He...He saw them too?"

Ishizu's words caused Kisara to halt in her tracks; her eyes widened as the flash of that man, of Seto Kaiba, flashed in her mind. Her encounter with him was the starting point of all the strange occurrences that had going on. The dreams. The visions. The strong ache in her heart when she sees him. Some of these she's experienced in the past, but they've only increased in frequency since their initial meeting. And it was the explanation behind these occurrences that she sought to find by coming here.

"Is something wrong, Miss Utahara?"

"N-No. It's...It's nothing." It clearly wasn't, but she couldn't lose focus now. Not when she was so close to the truth. "I was just...surprised. I...I didn't expect anything related to Duel Monsters to have taken inspiration from Egyptian history."

"Despite not being a duelist yourself, I think once you see them , the connection will become clear to you. Come, we're almost there."

She nods as she follows Ishizu deeper and deeper into the tomb, Kisara's heartbeat seeming to rise with each step. Was she getting nervous? Nervous about what she might learn? Or was it the thought of Seto Kaiba that made her heart race? She isn't sure, but regardless of the distraction, she pressed on until she met Ishizu at the bottom of the chamber.

"These two carvings you are about to see are from the 18th dynasty of Egypt that existed over 3,000 years ago. We at the Egyptian Supreme Council of Antiquities have worked carefully to preserve these treasures so the legacy of our history is not lost to the sands of time. Please look at them at your leisure, and I'll be here to answer any questions you may have. Though, I believe the one you must look at is the one on the left."

She gives the other a nod before advancing forward, choosing to look at the tablet she was directing her towards first. Kisara is not sure what to expect when she looks at it. What did Ishizu mean by 'inspired'? What did these relics have to do with her experiences relating to her visions? To her weird connection to Seto Kaiba and the White Dragon? Guess the only way to find out was to see it with her own eyes.

Thus, with a deep breath, Kisara's gaze shifts to look at the stone. And the second she laid her eyes upon it, seeing the image in full, she froze, unable to do anything but look with widened eyes and process the unbelievable imagery before her eyes that seemed to fit the picture perfectly into the missing pieces of the puzzle of this mystery.

"That dragon...That dragon is...!" Flashes of different memories of her dreams and visions are shown before her eyes, and all of the dragons in this carving are seemingly depicted as plain as day. "The White Dragon...Blue-Eyes...White Dragon...The dragon from my dreams...It's...here on this stone, but...how? How could a creature of my dreams be on this stone, and later turned into a Duel Monsters card that is only owned by-"

Kisara pauses, realizing an important detail. Beautiful blue hues then start to shift their gaze from the carving of the beast to what was below. Or rather, who was below it, the very figure depicted as battling side by side with the dragon.

"It...It's him..." She speaks softly as she approaches the stone, gently touching the face of the figure depicted there for reasons she can't understand. "It's that man from my vision...The one that looks just like...!"

"Seto Kaiba." Ishizu's voice brings Kisara's focus back, her head turning back to face the woman who had approached her. "That is a depiction of a priest known as the 'White Beast Tamer', a loyal and prideful member of the Pharaoh of the 18th dynasty, Pharaoh Atem's, court. Despite being in his service, he considered the king both his greatest friend and greatest rival. The battle between these two destined duelists is what is carved here on this stone."

Her eyes then wander to the opposite side of the tablet, the side featuring both the king and the magician carved above him. "That's Pharaoh Atem? But...but he looks just like Yugi Muto! Why...Why do these two figures look like people from the present? And what does all of this have to do with me? I came here looking for answers, but...I'm more confused than ever!"

Her heart was racing. Not only from the anxiety of the situation, but also because of what she saw on the stone and in the flashes of memory. There was clearly a connection between all these things. That was undeniable, and yet the very nature of it was still frustratingly unclear. Luckily for her, she had someone who could elaborate a bit.

"Miss Utahara." Ishizu speaks, gently placing a hand on Kisara's shoulder to try and help ease the obvious panic in her soul. "What does your heart tell you when you gaze upon this tablet? What feelings does it evoke? What words? What sights? It is in them that you may find your answers."

A hand is moved over her heart. The white-haired adult can still feel it racing in her chest, as if threatening to escape. She tries to take deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself enough to focus on the confusing cloud of feelings deep inside, once again her gaze shifting to the stone, specifically its left side. Silence fills the chamber for minutes on end as she continues to look, and it is only broken once an instinct takes hold of her, an instinct that allows her to convey what she is feeling in the only way she knows how...through the expression of her soul.

🎵"Once, like a dream...You looked at me...And everything felt new..."🎵

Her song is accompanied by images, images that were as clear as day to her. She sees herself beaten and stoned by a crowd, only for it to stop once he, the priest, intervenes and saves her life.

🎵"Time slipped away...The past seemed to fade...My hope restored by you..."🎵

She now sees herself looking at the priest from her weakened position on the ground, whose image seemed to glow in the sunlight. He was a beacon of light. The light of hope that she desperately tries to reach for.

🎵 "And I know, for some, it's temporary...Like a shooting star soon out of view..."🎵

Kisara finds her visions to now be of herself behind bars, watching the priest slowly turn and leave towards a darkened hallway. It then shifts to herself in the center of what appeared to be an arena, faced down by horrifying monsters. However, she turns around, now facing the image of the priest staring back at her.

🎵"But this will always be...It's my destiny...To be in love with you..."🎵

The priest in her images then moves in front of her, summoning a creature through his magic to defend her. Circumstances then cause the floor beneath them to fall, leaving them both dangling by a thread. That's when her body emits a bright blue aura, and from within that aura appears...the White Dragon...

🎵"Some people fall in love for life..."🎵

She finds herself behind bars again, her cell now breaking down around her. That's when he appears, like a miracle, to break her free, taking her by the hand as they escape a crumbling palace.

🎵"Others never get it right..."🎵

He then speaks to her. They are words Kisara cannot hear directly in her vision but are ones she can seemingly understand. They tell her to run, run away from this land, and don't look back. Despite her hesitance, she runs away from him, seemingly never to return to his side.

🎵"Love's fickle when it calls..."🎵

But...she ends up turning around, unable to leave him behind. He looks back at her a moment, screaming out her name, before everything is consumed in a dark light that strikes her core.

🎵"One thing that I know for sure..."🎵

Everything slows around her as her body slowly wilts, akin to that of a dying flower. She can see the panic in the priest's eyes as he cries out for her, a sign of his care for her. That...That was enough for her, she feels, to see him be concerned over her well-being, a feeling that can't help but feel a bit distant as these memories replayed.

🎵"Longer than our lives endure..."🎵

The sight before her now is a familiar one. She sees herself in his arms and knelt before a tablet depicting the White Dragon. Even now, seeing this sight fills her soul with an intense sadness, enough to cause tears to flow from her physical eyes and for her to drop to her knees.

🎵"You're my forever fall..."🎵

Kisara's eyes return back to reality, once again facing the stone as her song concludes. She reaches for the depiction of the priest once again, and for a moment, his image flashes in her mind. He smiles at her, reaching out his hand, before the image breaks and her hand finds itself touching the cold gravel of the tablet.

"Lord Seto...That's your name...That's who you are...The man who...saved me...in the past...The man who I wanted to repay...The man that I..." Her hands move to cover her heart, and her tear drops fall on the skin like dew drops. "Loved..."

She takes a few moments to herself to steady her spirit, slowly wiping the tears from her eyes with a handkerchief from her pocket. Kisara then stands up, one movement at a time, and turns back towards Ishizu. The look in her eyes is different than before, both murkier from her tears but almost...clearer somehow, as if some fog had been lifted.

"So...I'm the vessel for the White Dragon, or rather...I was in a previous life. And what I've been seeing...What I've been experiencing...That song I just sung...It was me connecting to that part of myself, wasn't it Miss Ishtar?"

"Yes. Just like the destined duelists the tablet depicts, it seems your journey, too, has not yet reached its final conclusion."

"Does this mean that...I still have the White Dragon inside of me? Could that be why I see it in my dreams?"

"I'm not so certain of that. In ancient times, Egyptian sorcerers trapped creatures, both good and evil, into stone tablets that they could summon at will. Today this practice is represented by the Duel Monsters cards duelists can summon to aid them in battle. If you still had the spirit of the White Dragon within you, then I think there could be no card of it."

"I guess...I guess that makes sense. And those cards...They belong to..." A puzzle piece seemingly clicked in her mind as she was putting things together, things she wanted to confirm with the women first just to be certain. "Miss Ishizu, Does...Does that mean that Seto Kaiba is..."

"He is as you suspect. He is the priest reborn in this new age, and he is fully aware of his ancient heritage."

"Then...Then, does he know about..." Her words die in her throat, and she remembers one crucial detail from the memories of her human life she had just seen. While her past life's feelings for the priest had been clear, they were ones she did not get to express. For her past self passed away before being given the chance to say what she felt to him, of the love she had for him deep inside.

At least...as far as the blue-eyed women knew, anyway. There were more secrets of her past still yet to reveal themselves. The memories of her human life during her time in Egypt had been unlocked to her. However, the secrets housed within the other parts of her soul, the ones tied to the four Blue-Eyes White Dragons, still were out of reach, and until she could reconnect and access them, the full truth would still be just a mystery.

"I do not know what he knows and does not know at this current moment. What I do know is that he has outwardly rejected and denied his claims to the past, to his very destiny on multiple occasions, despite what he has experienced first hand."

"I see...I cannot say I'm surprised. He is...a very mysterious and cold person, with his heart seemingly sealed off from the world..."

It was a stark contrast to what she witnessed from the priest in her visions, who always appealed to her as warm and protective. Then again, she doesn't know Seto Kaiba that well at all. Could he too be hiding a part of himself?

"But honestly, after learning all of this? I...I want to get to know him, more than I did before. I don't know what fate has in store for us, or how I'm going to handle these new...feelings from my past." Contending with a love, a powerful one that seemingly crossed time to the present day, that is hers but also not hers was going to be challenging, after all. "All I do know is that I should at least try. I'd forever regret it if I didn't."

"I wish you the best of luck with your efforts. Now is there anything else I can help you with? You still haven't looked at the second carving."

"I...I think I got more than I could ever ask for just by looking at the first one. If anything, it gives me an excuse to see you again. Thank you, Miss Ishtar. Thank you for everything." Kisara bows her head in gratitude once more, a soft smile characteristic of her gracing her face.

"You can just adress me as Ishizu."

"Only if you address me as Kisara."

"Alright, Kisara. I'm glad I could be of help to you. You are free to contact me anytime should you need it."

"I appreciate it, Ishizu. Thank you again."

With permission to be casual around one another exchanged, the two ladies leave the tomb, and Kisara heads back on her way to her hotel. The singer is sure to call her sister and tell her the meeting was successful and that she will be flying back to Japan in the morning. Seems like she has a busy schedule ahead of her when she gets back. She did take a few days off just for this trip, meaning she'd have to play catch up when she returned home.

As the Blue-Eyed Maiden sat in her room, her hands were busy writing in her songbook. She was writing down the song she had sung in the tomb, a song that she had known how to sing and knew the notes to without needing to think. It was a song that seemingly came from her soul, a song that Kisara...wanted to share with him someday, no matter what his reaction may be. It would not be for herself now, but rather who she used to be, to say what she never got to say before...before her death.

🎵 "Your trust, honesty...Helped me believe...A ray of hope shined through...You set me free...Saw what the world couldn't see...I found my joy in you...

"Every life is filled with passing moments...Like the seasons change, they come and go...But this is infinite...Nothing, even death...Could separate our souls...

'Cause you're my final goal...

Some people fall in love for life...Others never get it right...Love's fickle when it calls...One thing that I know for sure...Longer than our lives endure...

You're my forever fall..."🎵

[acoldsovereign]

{JJK AU} - Mouth Smoother Than Oil

True Name: ????? (Can't remember in most cases but will say "Maze".)**

In Japanese, this will be translated to Meikyū.** In cases where her memories are recovered, Maiz (or Maize, rather, as this is the vegetable pun where her name is derived from), will be translated in Japanese to tōmorokoshi.

Aliases: Maze or Maiz (to those who ask or for muses who aren't native Japanese speakers), Meikyū or Tōmorokoshi (to native muses that do speak it/are knowledgeable about the language), Unregistered Cursed Spirit with Red Hair, Red, Big Mouthed-Woman.

Nickname (s): Hooves, Fatass, Demon (by Urameshi Yusuke / @thuganomxcs).

True Age: ???? (She appears as someone in her mid 30's).

Backstory Tl;dr -

For the countless, heinous crimes she's committed throughout her life, Maiz was sentenced by King Yemma to "endless reincarnation". She was deemed too rotten to go through the soul scrubber/cleanser, leaving her malicious soul untouched.

She was to suffer for all eternity until she learned her lesson. This, unfortunately backfired.  A sociopath cannot recover if they don't wish to.

Instead of seeing it as an opportunity to repent or change, she provoked and verbally harassed Yemma until he lost his temper.

Without thinking about it, he pointed in a random direction and ordered her to return to Earth as per the contract. Unfortunately, he didn't realize the world he sent her to wasn't her native one, but an Earth belonging to a different verse altogether--the Jujutsu Kaisen universe. He's lost contact with her and cannot track her soul as she is no longer bound by the laws of the DBZ universe... Or his punishment, as far as he knows.

Appearance: She superficially resembles a dark-skinned person not native to Japan; a hint to her origins being from a different universe prior to this one. Out of dark/black roots, waves of wine red hair take over and stops at the middle of her back. Her sclera are black, and her irises are an ominous magenta color that occasionally glows in the dark and in low-light settings. Like most versions of Maiz, she has multiple beauty marks on her face, fangs, and a staggering height (6'10) complimented by musculature and curves. There are protruding veins on her forearms and the sides of her biceps. She sports six inch claws, blackened fingers and palms (as if painted or covered in ashes). The back of her hands have cracks in the skin, to which cobalt-blue blood oozes out of it occasionally. She no longer has a Saiyan's tail but she does have hooves for feet.

Attire wise, she wears varying shades of blue (teal, glacier blue, aquamarine) and black. Her clothes are immodest to lure in prey of both sexes.

Behavior: Her perpetual hunger has led her to devour many things--infants, children, teenagers, adults and the elderly--the same way she consumes plants and animals. (With reckless abandon and sharp teeth, that is). She doesn't play well with other Cursed Spirits as she's been seen violently attacking and even eating them. As of late, she's been spotted in Yokohoma, eating mostly the wildlife and any unfortunate individuals that are able to see her. So far, there's only been one person to see her and live to tell stories about it--a seemingly unsuspecting food truck vendor who has yet to be investigated for his own safety. Other than him, she has killed and eaten many.

Little does the Jujutsu Association know, this man is not an innocent nor is he completely human or a civilian.

They also don't know she's already eaten some of him. He regenerates and heals back, so it's not noticable.

Abilities:

She is strong enough to grab a car and throw it several feet (her limit seems to be SUVs). Her kicking power is so great that she's sent many Jujutsu-shi (sorcerers) and non-sorcerers to the infirmary; they've either ended up in partial comas, or needed jaw wiring/facial reconstruction surgery. Others have needed physical therapy treatments and/or have died due to crushed organs and internal bleeding (not to mention being kicked up into the stratosphere at great velocity and falling back down at even an greater rate). As for speed, she is hampered by her hooves--meaning she can be heard approaching a mile away, even if she's unexpected. She sounds like a pack of horses when she runs, but is much faster than them. When she's trying, she's equal to a cheetah.

Her blood can be frozen into solid shapes (like a bat to tenderize her enemies with).

She has a minor transmogrifying ability; she can turn her hooves into feet if need be (but she doesn't really do this. She wants to be heard approaching). She can also push her bones and skin outwards to create bat-like wings (but she avoids this too, as it consumes more Cursed Energy to do this).

Finally, she's able to regenerate lost limbs and heal herself but only to an extent---she is limited to three regenerations per day. If the opponent she fights damages her beyond that, it will take longer for her to heal and she can be taken down and permanently killed.

[her-canine-teeth]

spiracle by flower face

[cannotflyarc]

panem au.

this is meant to be read as a bulleted list ( yes i know i cannot shut up ), but dumblr wouldn't allow me to make this a list. if you're familiar with the themes of the h.unger g.ames, you'll likely realize this is a very dark au. out of all of my verses, this one is probably my darkest one. themes include child murder, revolution, abuse, prostitution, miscarriage ( in the final paragraph ) and rape. i want this verse to be accessible to everyone so i try to be as vague as possible, but keep in mind these themes are scattered across this post. i do warn for some paragraphs, but i am not perfect and didn't catch everything. i will not give any warnings for murder as that is a central theme in canon. keep in mind, this is a more detailed description of the second way this verse can go. details for both are the same until i mention it differs. this verse is heavily affiliated with @playboths as i developed most of this au with jasmine. keep in mind, i'm always down to plot other things for this verse, just most of the time i will be referencing events in our muses' lives. read at your own discretion.

— j.ohanna barker: the pearl of district four.

johanna is a descendent of the covey that settled in district four. lucy's parents went along with everything peacefully and even started to morph more into panem society, though they raised their daughter in covey traditions and values. that included naming their daughter lucy coral, after the color.

lucy later married benjamin, the victor of the 48th games. their match was an interesting one, but they were young and wanted to be married as soon as possible. lucy gave birth to their daughter, johanna canary a year after their wedding.

turpin was from the capital on special assignment in four. he met lucy and attempted to woo her, failing at every attempt. after she escaped after an attempt to assault her, turpin bribed his friend to make lucy one of the female tributes for the upcoming games: the 50th games. the quarter quell. being the wife of a victor didn't protect her from the reaping.

no one volunteered in her place. at hearing that a member of the covey was in the games again, snow personally came to lucy and warned her to drop the second part of her name and make no mention of her ancestry. the capital adored lucy since her mentor talked her to extort the fact she had a daughter at home to gain sponsorships.

overall, lucy was one of the most favored tributes of the games. however, that couldn't save her from the knife in the throat from the male tribute from one.

benjamin was outraged. he knew the games were rigged and made an open threat on turpin's life. turpin did not take well to this. he sent him to prison on a flimsy charge. he was not made into an avox due to the fact that he would be recognized as a former victor. turpin wanted him locked away. he faked benjamin's suicide.

without a parent, turpin took johanna in. this is where the verse branches into two different directions:

one. turpin takes johanna back to the capital and he is one of the gamemakers. ( there's not much more to it )

two. ( more commonly used ) turpin stays in four under special assignment and johanna is raised in district four.

in the instance johanna in raised in four, she is given a very similar upbringing to her canon. she is privately tutored. she is raised to be very lonely. however, turpin is more brutal and abusive in this verse.

( warnings for rape and abuse ) details will be scarce here, but what he attempted to do to lucy earlier, he succeeds to do multiple times to johanna. panem isn't religious, thus most of the reason why he "held himself back" in canon mixed with the fact he was unsuccessful with lucy is gone. he doesn't care that he hurt a child. because of this, she is even more reclusive than in canon.

however, when johanna is sixteen, she meets a.nthony h.ope, a fisherman. turpin always implied finding her a good, capital match since he wouldn't want his ward to marry district. but that match didn't matter in that moment. anthony delivers goods to the house and johanna uses it as an opportunity to sneak him into his room or talk with him. they fall in love.

but despite her newfound bliss, turpin approaches her one night with filmed evidence of her and anthony. he reminds his ward that he is a very powerful man before leaving. the reaping was the next day.

johanna knew she was never in danger, but it felt worse to hear anthony's name. he rigged it and she knew it the moment his name was read. everyone in the crowd could hear her cry, yet no one volunteered. it was as if they'd been warned not to.

anthony did not survive his games. johanna became a shell of her former self. turpin had made her watch every moment.

two years later when anthony's sister name was read, she didn't hesitate to volunteer as tribute.

she barely heard turpin yelling at her during their minutes together. he did so much to prevent this from happening. how could she? what was wrong with her? ( honestly, johanna wasn't certain if she wanted to live anymore. )

when art donaldson, the son of the mayor and winner of the 65th games informed her that he was anthony's mentor, she clung to him. as they began to get to know each other better, she slowly felt herself falling for him. it terrified her to have a reason to keep living.

johanna proved herself have a good aim, though she also trained herself in the blade. she formed an alliance with her district partner, angler. however, it was her interview that gave her an advance. she charmed the capital, securing her sponsors. that night after punching patrick walters as he claimed art was a prostitute for the capital, donation and donation came through.

the next day, she clung onto art's hand for as long as possible before she was brought to the arena. she didn't expect herself to survive. she thought she would be dead by night. during the bloodbath, she was able to grab a poison dart gun and a water canteen. she and angler took turns guarding themselves. the first gift arrived that night: a loaf of bread she split with angler.

during her games, johanna relied on luck she never had before. she was fast and a good hider. with angler at her side, she didn't have much to worry about. but the career tributes found them one night. angler was killed in his sleep. johanna, ever the light sleeper, woke up and ran off before they could catch her. however, they'd cut half of her braid off. she was completely alone now. hiding in the trees as the other tributes killed each other off. she was able to get a knife out of a corpse which brought her belongings to a small pack, a canteen, a poison dart gun she'd yet to use and a knife.

eventually, she was confronted by the male tribute from district six. he crushed her gun and she only had time to grab a small dart before he backed her into a tree. he pressed his blade against her throat. as she accepted her demise, her hands seemed to work in spite of her numbness and stabbed the boy in the back with the poison. she watched as he slowly perished before taking his belongings and her own and darting into the trees.

she stayed hidden for the rest of the games. not even the cameras could find her. it was a small arena, yet hardly anyone knew that johanna was crying to herself over the loss of her hair in the trees. she was forced out of her tree when another tribute attempted to cut it down for firewood. the fall left her unable to move, but the tribute had pity on her and left without a word. she had helped her earlier in the games to get food. she would die anyway. once johanna was able to force herself into moving, she found another hiding spot. during the final bloodbath, the final two tributes killed each other. everyone held their breath as the second place tribute let out her final breath.

johanna was the victor.

she wasn't able to climb the ladder. they had to swoop in and begin surgery. before they knocked her out, she whispered art's name. the next few days were swirls of confusion. she did not like her nudeness under the hospital sheets nor the band preventing her from sitting up. finally, she was able to leave.

after dressing, she began to look for art. when johanna saw him down the hall, she didn't hesitate before running to him. when he kissed her, she kissed back. she hadn't realized there were cameras on them nor the fact that they weren't together. art was many members of the capitol's favorite pets. she had a guardian waiting at home who would not be happy. her interview wasn't brief on that kiss. the capital was abuzz with speculation.

( warnings for rape ) returning home to confront an incredibly unhappy turpin, he dragged her to her new home in victor's village. johanna hated to lock doors, but she would keep the door to the office forever shut. she didn't want to be reminded of what he did to her in there. after he left, she tried to stop herself from feeling anything. when that didn't work, she went to art's house.

the months between the games and her victory tour were spent mainly with art. nights at his house. days teaching each other things. despite neither of them mentioning what the capital thought they were or the kiss, they were as affectionate as ever. eventually, they confess their feelings for each other and begin what they hope to be a secret relationship.

on her victory tour months later, johanna and art were outed as a couple. still a couple. the news crushed the hearts of some of the capital, but the rest rejoiced over the love story brought together by the games. they attempted to dodge questions as much as they could. it didn't work.

they were secretly married shortly afterwards.

johanna and art mentored the next few year's tributes from district four. she sobbed for days when her tribute was killed.

eventually, turpin returned to the capital but it wasn't long until he missed her. he had snow arrange for her to be brought to the capital, just as what happened with art. at the news, johanna panicked and she and art made arrangements to flee to thirteen.

he would go to make sure it was safe, then come back for her. it was a safe plan. they were supposed to be safe.

( warnings for torture ) when patrick discovered art had gone missing, he reported it to snow. as revenge, johanna was ripped from their home and brought to the capital to be tortured.

( warnings for rape ) she nearly avoided seeing turpin again. she wasn't as lucky as she was in the arena.

( warning for torture ) they rebroke her back. they drew new scars all over her body. she knew who was behind it. she knew they were filming her to send a message to art.

eventually, art was able to break in to save her. he had a small team with him. one member known as the surname, "todd" couldn't be found during her rescue. when they got to the ship, he came back covered in blood and refused to elaborate. johanna barely noticed him between trying to clutch onto art and the med team attempting to help her.

she woke up in the med wing in district thirteen. there was no band holding her back. johanna tore off her ivs and needles and ran to find art. during her recovery, she would often sneak out to sleep in an actual bed with her husband. she did eventually recover, though her progress was slowed down by her rebellious nature.

johanna learned who the todd figure was from art. her father. utterly betrayed by his decision to assassinate turpin instead of rescue his daughter, she refused to speak to him.

while in district thirteen, lucy gray helped johanna discover that she is a descendant of covey. the two bonded over this, becoming good friends.

she later finds out her full name is johanna canary. she begins to go by both.

during the rebellion, she assisted with the injured and the homeless. while art was helping with the attacks on the capital, johanna could only hope he would make it back alive.

she is one of the other nurses, along with prim, that were rushing to help citizens in the capitol. todd knew about the bomb and he snuck into a vehicle, not hers. he wasn't able to warn her. he pushed her out of the way so she wasn't harmed. when she was able to sit up, she watched her father die, unable to do anything to save him.

people called todd a hero for saving his daughter's life. they talked about how much he must have loved his daughter for sacrificing his life for her.

johanna had a different interpretation. clearly, he knew about the bombing. he did it to lead himself to his own death. he didn't have any point in living anymore. he hadn't sacrificed himself. he was selfish.

( he had learned lucy wasn't dead after all. the capital mistook her for being dead and the capital doesn't make mistakes. upon realizing she was barely alive, they worked to save her life. lucy was used to assist the gamekeepers, as a prostitute under a different name and experimented on. even as she slowly went insane. she perished, but if todd had only went in to rescue johanna, he would have been able to save his beloved wife, as well. he couldn't live knowing he was the reason his wife died. )

johanna is kept in some sort of medical wing/hospital. her burns slowly heal and she trims her burnt hair herself.

art leans he had a daughter from one of his capitol "clients." they eagerly take lily in and johanna considers her to be her own daughter.

they move back to district four where mrs. everdeen set up a hospital. johanna continues her work as a nurse there.

a few years later, she finds out she's pregnant. they found out it was a boy before she miscarried.

a few years later, canary violet is born and named after covey tradition. mavis indigo joins their family a little while later, too.

[j-rye]

[skeltnwrites]

A/N: I think this is the first time I've ever been so emotional about something I've written 😭 this hit a little too close to home for me

Summary: You help Eddie wash his hair when he can't. | 0.9k words

TW: depression, best friend!reader

“Nooo,” Eddie whines, voice muffled by blankets. “Stop– Seriously!” 

Your grip around his ankle only tightens from where you’ve fished it out of his cocoon. You tug, ripping his sock off in the process, until he’s halfway off the couch, clinging onto a cushion like his life depends on it. 

“You’re so annoying,” he slumps into a sitting position on the floor, eyes peaking out of the fold in his comforter. 

You crouch in front of your best friend. “Yes, but you love me.” 

He leans away when you peel the corner of the blanket away. He’s pale, which is typical, but it’s summer and he looks borderline vampirish with how visible his veins are. A palm brushes his bangs back to meet the knot secured to his crown. He bends away from your touch a second time. 

“Hair’s greasy,” he mumbles; a weak excuse, like you’d ever care about that. 

“I can wash it for you,” you offer seriously. 

His lips tilt into a sort of smile and his brows knit together, “What? Like in the sink?” 

“If you want?” 

He hums, “Prolly uncomfortable.” 

“Okay, in the shower then.”

A real smile this time. “If you want to see me naked just say that.” 

You punch his shoulder lightly. Normally you’d shove him hard without a second thought, and he’d probably push back equally, but it feels wrong to do so when you know he won’t put up a fight. “You can put swim trunks on.”

“I don’t feel like changing.”

“Okay, then in this.” You pinch the hem of his t-shirt sleeve. 

“That’s a little weird.”

“Since when do you care about weird?”

He shrugs half-heartedly, “I guess. If you want.” 

In the bathroom, you turn the shower knob, “Hot or cold?” 

“Warm.” He’s slumped on the toilet lid in his pajamas, having ditched the duvet in the hall. 

“Okay, here.” You whisk the curtain open fully. 

He shoots you a look that says, ‘Am I really doing this?’ before stepping into the tub. His eyes widen when you climb in right after him.

“You’re crazy,” he grins and it makes your heart leap. You’ve missed the way his eyes crinkle at the edges and his lashes kiss the tips of his cheeks when he smiles. 

“Not as crazy as you.” You hook a finger under his scrunchie, gently working it until his curls spill over his shoulders. 

He sighs, eyes drawing shut when you tilt his head back. His clothes are already soaked through, clinging to his slender frame like a second skin. He blocks most of the stream but stray droplets catch your arms where they connect with his head.  

“Have you eaten yet?” You ask, massaging shampoo through his hairline. “I could go for some takeout right about now.” 

He blinks at you. “I know what you’re doing.”

You crane his head to the side to scrub his nape, “I’m not doing anything. I’m hungry.”

You’re not looking, but you practically feel him roll his eyes. 

“So, pizza?” 

He knows you only suggest it because it’s his comfort food, but he’s too tired to argue about getting something you both want. Eddie nods into your hand. You thumb his cheek, studying him self-indulgently while his eyes are sealed again. 

You work conditioner through his dead ends, tenderly detangling, and sticking spirals of black hair on the shower wall as they are combed out. 

Silent tears mingle with the water dripping off his chin. The tremble in his breath gives him away and you acknowledge it with a wordless hug. He reciprocates, squeezing you under the warmth of the showerhead. His nose digs into your collarbone and you trace the knobs on his spine. 

This is not the first time you’ve seen him cry, or held him while he did, for that matter. You are well-versed in handling his depressive episodes. Knowing when to push and when not to pry. Knowing when to hold him and when to give him space. And most importantly knowing that most of the time he just needs someone there. Not to talk about it necessarily but to just be with him for a night so he can pretend not to feel like shit for a few hours. 

You wrap him in a towel and scour his room for fresh pajamas. There was a time when he’d have been embarrassed to let you see his room in such a state, but you’ve drilled it into his head that you love all of him, even the messier parts. 

You change out of damp clothes in his room while he does in the bathroom. A handful of his things are put away while you’re in there, but not enough for him to scold you for doing so. 

He meets you back in the living room where he sinks back into his spot in front of the TV. You dial his favorite pizza place before joining him on the couch to brush and braid his hair. He thanks you, though you don’t need it. 

With his legs thrown across your lap and half a greasy pie split between your bellies, the hum of a movie soothes you both to sleep. Outside, the world spins on, but for now, here with him, everything feels still.

[luveline]

spoilers for spider-man: across the spider-verse below

please don’t read any further if you are avoiding spoilers

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

miguel hops dimensions expecting a new family, and a new life. he’s not expecting you —featuring a tired miguel and his confused but adoring wife. or, miguel gets the comfort he so desperately needs. requested here. fem!reader, 2.5k

tw. gun mention/no graphic scenes

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Miguel seems different when he comes home that night. You've loved him for years, you know his face. He looks slightly younger and older at the same time, impossibly so. He looks like he has bad news and he doesn't want to tell you. Something harrowing. How else can you explain his expression? 

You stand up from the dinner table. "Hey," you say gently. "Is there something wrong?" 

He isn't convincing when he answers, "What? Uh, no. Nothing's wrong." 

"Something looks wrong." 

You step in front of him and lift your chin. Usually, he'd look down with a smirk, or at the very least a smile, but he seems weary. You lift your hand to his cheek, pinching it between your fingers without malice. 

"Smile, handsome. You have a lovely smile." 

He smiles. His lips part just slightly. "You… you really love me. You're happy." 

"We're happy," you correct. "Me, you, and Gabs forever, right?" 

"Gabs?" he asks. 

"Don't start with me. Gabriella's a mouthful. A beautiful mouthful," you concede. "I still think we should've named her Sofia. And yeah, Miguel. I love you. Really really. Don't forget it." 

You make him sit at the kitchen table. It's a selfish manoeuvre; you want him to sit so you can actually reach his hair. Your husband is the tallest man you've ever met. 

"Did you get a haircut?" you ask, running your fingers through his hair slowly. He shivers at your touch, and tilts his head back in question. "You did. That's such a betrayal, my love. I've been cutting your hair for going on six years now, I'm suddenly not good enough?" 

"You're good enough," he says. He really sounds so strange. 

"I'm joking. Miguel, if there's something wrong, you really need to tell me. I can make it better. Well, I can try." You bite your lip, unnerved by his quiet, solemn air. 

"Am I being weird?" he asks.

"No," you say, worried he thinks you're judging him. You never would. (He's being really weird.) "Of course not, you're just quiet tonight, that's all. Did you have a bad day at work?" 

"I– I got mugged. On the way home from work. I forgot the– the milk." 

"You what?" you ask, eyes widening in shock. Miguel's kind of gigantic. You've always said that you pity the fool who tries it, but apparently he's less hardy than you thought. A mugging explains his weird behaviour these last five minutes, at least. "What happened? Sweetheart, are you okay?" 

You take his face into both hands. He has dark circles under his eyes and a scratch along his jaw, but he seems unhurt. You suppose being attacked would age you instantaneously too. 

"Miguel, are you in shock? Should I take you to the hospital?" 

"I'm okay. I just feel strange." 

"Are you sure?” He nods hurriedly. You purse your lips. “I'll make you something warm to drink, that'll help. As long as you're not hurt, right? Did he take your wallet? We'll have to cancel your credit card." 

Miguel catches your shirt before you can go too far. 

"Hm?" you hum in question. 

Miguel visibly deliberates. His eyebrows lift ever so slightly. "Could I hug you?" 

The hurting and worry you have for him intensify before falling on the back-burner. You can shove your own feelings aside easily if he needs comforting. 

"I don't think you have to ask me," you say, offering your arms. 

Miguel is usually a short but meaningful hugger. You've hugged so many times and in what feels like every place on earth, and he's such a tall man that even if he doesn't mean for them to be, his arms are all encompassing.

It surprises you that this hug is different. He's tentative. When his hand falls to the small of your back it slots into place, and you can feel his relief like a palpable thing. 

"You’re okay," you say, your lips at his crown, your legs between his.

He's keeping space between you, and you don't like it. You press yourself as close to him as possible, your arms behind his shoulders, cupping the back of his head. Soft hair tickles your palm.

"Was it scary?" 

"Was what scary?" he asks. You don't mention his little sniff. He's smelling your hair. 

"Being mugged? Did he have a gun?" 

"Yeah, he did." 

"Oh, I see. There's no shame in being scared, you know that?" 

"I'm not scared. I wasn't scared when it happened. I just wanted to come home to you." 

You frown. His admission is like a barb in your chest, aimed true for your heart. "I'm so glad you did," you confess against his forehead, a murmur of sound. "So, so glad. I don't know what I'd do without you." 

You kiss his head three times in a row. The last kiss lingers, his arms slackening around you. 

You pull away, not wanting to smother him. Whoever's watching knows he's had enough of you these last few years. 

"Where–" Miguel clears his throat. "Where's Gabriella?" 

"She's in her room. Call her." 

You're hoping time with her will bring him back into focus. He's clearly more affected by this than he's willing to say. You don't know how you feel about it. Terrified, because you could've lost him. Euphoric that you didn't. You'd had this funny feeling all day long, and it's weird, you’d felt that something bad happened, a moment at the sink with Gabriella singing in her room, the clock ticking on the wall. Miguel late, but promising to bring the groceries you needed home with him before dinner. 

"Gabriella?" he calls up the stairs. You watch from the stove. 

You'll grab the pan and make him some hot cocoa. Just as soon as he stops looking scared. 

"Daddy?" Gabriella asks back. She's audibly ecstatic, and her footsteps are a stampede from her bedroom. You can see her from the kitchen when she gets to the bottom of the stairs. "Dad, pick me up!" 

"Oh, right," Miguel says, leaning down to hold her. 

He pulls her with all the grace of an elephant to his chest, and she nearly chins him. 

"Woah, careful." 

"Dad, you're super late. Mom said I can yell at you for being late." 

"You can yell at me, if you want to." He gives her a curious look. "I'm sorry for taking so long." 

Gabriella tilts her head to the side, dark hair shifting. She's a gorgeous little girl and her dad can't withstand it, melting as you hoped he would, the taut string of his back finally cut in two.  

"I don't want to yell at you," she whispers. 

"Good, because I don't want you to yell," he whispers back. 

Gabriella leans back in his arms and giggles thickly. He almost drops her, and has to readjust his hold on her back. 

"I'm so happy you're home!" she cheers, bringing her little hands up together from her chest and thrusting them out like fireworks. "You work too much! I thought doctors was s'posed to make everyone better and go home." 

"I'm not that kind of doctor," he says. 

You turn from where you've brought cocoa powder and milk to an emulsified simmer on the stovetop and beam at him. It's your favourite thing in the whole world when she mixes it up. Ever since she found his ID card with DR. written clear as day before his name, she's been under the impression that he works at the general hospital. Alchemex might break medical thresholds, but it is far from a hospital. 

"Are you having hot cocoa with your dad?" you ask Gabriella. 

She gasp in excitement and lists toward you. Miguel almost drops her for a second time. "Yes, oh my gosh!" 

"Well, come and sit. What mug?" 

Gabriella can't decide on what mug she wants; there's the orange cat with too many whiskers, there's the black one with bright white stars. After some deliberation, she decides on her and Miguel's matching daddy-daughter mugs.

"You're having some too, right?" he asks you. 

"Don't I always?" you ask. "Though I do want to protest the mugs. Where's my mug? Don't I deserve number one mom?" You kiss the top of Gabriella's head where she languishes in Miguel's lap, before placing their hot cocoa down far from her arm's reach. "It's hot." 

Miguel doesn't touch his. You blow cold air at Gabriella's and dip your fingertip into it periodically, content to spend some time with them both in amicable quiet. Gabriella just loves him to pieces, and she leans back in his arms with her eyes closed, basking in his closeness. 

She squints at you with one eye. "Dad?" 

Miguel doesn't answer. You nudge his foot. 

"What?" he asks.

"You're not doing the thing." 

"The thing?" 

You frown. 

"Yeah, dad." She huffs and curls his arm manually across her front. "Please, I want the kisses." 

He looks at you, completely lost. You're feeling similarly confused. "She wants you to kiss her hair," you say, wondering if perhaps he's suffering from stress related amnesia. 

He leans down carefully and kisses her hair. It's not the usual enthusiastic kiss, and he doesn't bother blowing in her ear after. 

Gabriella glares at him. "My ear!" 

"Blow in her ear," you mouth. 

He blows gently into her ear. She shivers, shudders, and laughs up a storm. 

When the cocoa's been drunk and the mugs washed and put away, Gabriella races upstairs, promising to return with a storybook and the drawing she made earlier in the day once she’s changed into her pyjamas. Miguel looks less lost than he had. In fact, he looks normal. The warm drink has put colour in his cheeks, and his daughter's cuddles have done their job. He's relaxed. He's forgotten the fear of the mugging, you're almost sure of it. 

You waver beside him. "Can I sit with you, or am I too heavy?" 

"Why would you be too heavy?" he asks. 

"You always say I'm too heavy," you say, sitting down on his thighs. They feel solid, a little different from usual. Miguel works out, but this is strange. He must be more tense than you thought. "It's your worst joke." 

"I'm sorry. I won't say it if it upsets you," he says, his voice rough and low. 

"Who said anything about that?" He's never called you heavy to be cruel. 

"Sorry," he apologises again. "I think all the excitement today messed me up." 

You spread your fingers wide across his chest, his heart beating a surface below. "It's okay. You don't have to react any one way…" You rub the tip of your nose against his jaw lightly. "I'm so glad you're okay. I had this weird feeling like something bad happened to you, you know?" 

Miguel laughs and coughs at the same time. It borders on being distressed. He's really worrying you. "You did?" he asks. 

"Mm-hm. But you're okay." You work hard to sound sure. 

His hand slides between your legs, fingertips digging into the soft inside of your upper thigh, though it doesn't stay there. He pulls away, looking flustered. "Sorry." 

"For what?" You blink. 

"I don't know." 

You laugh and press a kiss to the column of his throat, your nose squished against him. "I was thinking we'd watch that new movie tonight, with Harry Woodson, but it has guns and stuff. Would that still be okay?" 

He puts his hand behind your ear and guides your head back to look you in the eye. It's a familiar touch. He looks like himself again, though you truly are offended by his haircut. Maybe something happened at work and fried it off. 

"You're really something special," he says quietly. 

"How so?" 

His face softens with your flirting tone. "You're kind. You're so kind. I've never met someone like you." 

"What are you talking about?" you mumble. It's your turn to feel flustered, jellified by the earnestness lining his features. 

"You're sweet, and soft, and so pretty," he says, matching your tone. He's looking at you like he's seeing you for the first time. 

You understand the feeling. Sometimes you look at him and can't believe he's your love. 

"Soft," you repeat. "Are you trying to say something?" 

"Like that. That joke. You don't even sound mad." 

"You don't have to be so amazed. I've been like this since we met, haven't I? I'm hardly ever angry with you." You follow down from his eye to his jaw with your knuckle, tracing a tear he hasn't shed. He's spun you into thoughtfulness, and more than that —reverential fondness for him aches in the very centre of your stomach.  

"I must have some good luck," he says. 

His near death experience has inspired a wave of sappiness. 

You lean in until your forehead touches his, giving him time to close his eyes or lean away if he wants to. 

"I love you," you say simply. "You're not lucky, you're amazing, and all this good you see in me? I see it in you, O'Hara." You huff a laugh, breath fanning over his top lip as you steal a wonky kiss. You pull back. "You're sure–" 

Miguel kisses you. His hand flies to the back of your neck and his lips are eager, his head tilted to one side to accommodate your nose. He deepens the kiss and it's a mess, really, nothing like his usual kisses, no practised ease, nor confident touches. His fingertips push at the hairs lining the nape of your neck as though he's not sure what to do with his hand. It's like kissing him for the very first time. 

It's not a bad kiss. 

You kiss back slowly. You're the steadying constant to his hotheadedness, in kissing and in everything else, pulling time into an endless stretch of his mouth under yours, his body heat seeping into your skin. 

The sharp point of a tooth catches your bottom lip. You gasp into his mouth and flinch away from him. 

"Um, ouch? What was that, handsome, did you get your teeth filed to spikes?" you ask, probing your lip, a flood of giggles slipping between your fingers. 

He looks at you like you've lit the sky one star at a time. 

"Sorry," he says. "I'll be more careful, I swear." 

"Sure," you laugh. "Well, you'll have to be more careful later. You promised Gabriella you'd read her the Wishing Tree, and she's expecting a performance. Voices included." 

He adjusts you in his lap with more strength than you knew he had. "Will you help?" 

You'll always help him. He doesn't even need to ask. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!!

[ffsg0jo]

tw: suggestive and also pretend everything ended after gojo was unsealed and that everyone's alive !!

you shouldn't be feeling this way. the entire world was in disarray, still recovering from the aftershock of chaos and destruction stomping hand in hand through the streets.

but your husband had changed drastically. since escaping the prison realm, he'd gotten thicker, bulkier, his frame now matching his larger than life ego.

the way his t-shirt deliciously hugged and stretched against his biceps. the baggy, white martial arts pants (which are almost see-through in the sunlight) left so much to the imagination, and god, you couldn't stop imagining what was underneath.

the pretty little bow tying it all together was just calling you, begging you to untie it and sink to your knees, revering him the way he deserved to be. you wanted your husband so badly that you couldn't focus on any of the tasks at hand. major damage control and cleanup were needed, but your mind was only on your husband. it was pathetic, and you felt ashamed, but you needed him, entire world be damned.

it was like a switch flicked in your brain. the 20 days he was locked up, you spent it all in a constant state of panic and worry, fighting to stay alive and to keep your students alive too. and the moment you saw satoru, you were taken aback, rooted to the spot.

there he was, your satoru in all his infinite glory. as he ran and gathered you up in his arms, you couldn't help but slightly whimper at the feeling of his taut muscles pressing against your softer form. he felt so good against your body and finally in your arms.

satoru, well versed in your body language, immediately understood what was going through your head. the same could be said for him, too. he spent hours upon hours alone in the prison realm, his body devoid of your touch, aching for you. not a second went by where he didn't think about your lips pressed against his heated skin and indulging in your soft, silky, warmth.

he could feel the blood rushing south as he heard you whimper. satoru wanted to kiss you so bad, but he knew if he did, he'd end up taking you right here, right now in front of everyone.

he pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth, another stamped lovingly onto your hairline. satoru held your face in his palms, forehead pressed against yours. his blue eyes shining with unshed tears, mirroring yours. god, he missed his wife so much. his sweet, sweet girl.

satoru's gaze softened, drinking you in properly now. he sees the bags under your eyes and tear tracks engrained into your cheeks. his soul breaks, as he realises how devastated and hearbroken you must have been.

"i love you so much," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your soft lips. "and i'm not going anywhere, my love. i promise."

you couldn't stop yourself leaning up and capturing satoru's lips in a frenzied kiss, you both groaning at the contact. satoru angled your face closer to his, his nose pressing deliciously into yours. he deepened the kiss, gasping at the way you tugged at his slightly overgrown undercut. you took that as an opportunity to slide your tongue past his lips and lick into his mouth.

he tongue fought against yours, wanting to taste every inch of your mouth. the kiss was becoming way too heated. your body pulled flush against his, his hardening length pressing into your stomach, moans escaping both of your lips. satoru drank all your noises up greedily, savouring them on his tongue.

the sudden loud cough to your right made you both pause, realising where you were. collecting yourselves, you slowly pulled apart, a string of saliva splitting as you moved away from your husband, his hands falling to your waist.

you were both panting and out of breath, but that now that you'd gotten a taste, it wasn't enough. you needed to feel his bare skin on yours. you needed to be completely consumed by him. you needed more.

before turning to face his students' satoru smirked at you. you never thought you'd say this, but you revelled in that stupid smirk of his.

'patience' his darkened, lust-filled eyes conveyed, his hands squeezing your waist, 'we have all night'.

i am taking requests and writing fics for gaza. check the linked post out to find out more !!

© ffsg0jo 2024 — do not plagiarise, repost, modify, or translate any of my work, in any way shape or form; i will piss in your cereal if you do. all work belongs to me and me only.

[monimccoythings]

Alastor x Daughter!Reader III (Platonic)

Yeah, this is going to take place after the end of season 1, just after Sir Pentious has ascended and the hotel has been rebuilt into a bigger better version. I just don't know how to fit Y/N in season 1.

Reminder: Alastor is in Hell for a reason.

TW: This contains a very delicate matter, like PTSD and panic attacks, even though I wanted to keep it brief because I'm not very well versed in these kind of subjects and wanted to be careful and respectful with it, I'm not entirely satisfied with how I wrote it, I researched and looked into my past experiences, but still don't think I truly adapted it as best as I would have liked. Also several mentions of cannibalism. Brief mentions of controlling behavior.

This isn't proof read so sorry for any grammar and/or vocabulary mistakes.

Part I ｜Part II｜Part III (You are here!)

tags: @anonymousewrites, @nonetheartist, @littledolly2345, @sunnyx07, @ouroborostheunholy, @mo-0-o, @sydneyyyya @lbcreations-blog

Soft jazz music enveloped the room, accompained by a strong smell of coffee and magnolias, someone was humming quietly to the music. Somehow, it reminded you of home.

You blinked groggily, trying to get the sleep away from your eyes, and leaned on your elbow. Why was the ground so soft and cushioned?

Yor eyes shot wide open when you remebered the events that led you there. The blood, the laughter, the eyes, the smile, the radio static... Your heart started beating wildly inside your ribcage, and you suddenly found yourself gasping for air. You clutched your old dress, hoping that would alleviate the growing pressure in your chest in some way.

"Well, look who's finally awake!" Alastor left the newspaper on the table and turned towards you, if his grin was supposed to be comforting it was not working. Just the fact that he was acting so casual, as if nothing had happened in the last ninety years made everything a million times worse.

"You are quite the hide and seek champion, ma petite faon. It took several years for my shadows to casually find you and then it took even longer for me to believe you actually had been sent here, ha ha!" His neck bended in an unnatural way as he laughed.

Crap. Did he always know where you were? Was this just a game of cat and mouse for him?

As if he had read your mind, his eyes adopted a more relaxed expression that did nothing to soothe your nerves. "Well, for the last ten years you gave me quite the chase, cher. Always on the move, never stopping, from one part of the ring to the other. And then there's that seven year gap." He muttered to himself that last part.

You still felt on the verge of a panic attack. Your body couldn't and wouldn't stop shaking, and felt like reality was blurring around you. Everything was happening too fast, it brought you back to that night decades ago when you found that your beloved father had actually been a serial killer. It almost felt like it was mere minutes ago.

Alastor knew of your discomfort, your fear. He could see it as clear as a day, he could almost taste it. He had always enjoyed tasting the fear on his victims, but yours only left an aftertaste of bitterness in his mouth. It was rotten, putrid and nauseating. Maybe because it was the only fear he should never had a taste of. Watching you like this also brought him back to the night he lost you.

As he held your unmoving body in his arms, for a couple of seconds his brain stopped functioning, unable to accept what had just happened. The pain he felt was just like someone had ripped his chest open and pulled out his still beating heart, only to crush it, leaving an empty and cold hole in its place.

He had taken you to your room and laid you in the bed, tucking you in. You looked so peaceful, if your face and clothes weren't stained with blood he would have believed you were sleeping. But you would never wake up again.

The next couple of days passed in a blur, tracking down the man who had dared to do this to you and then run away, and giving him his fair punishment. And as he dragged his mutilated body through the forest... Well... the rest is history.

"Anyways! All's well that ends well! Now I found you, and you won't need to worry anymore!" His chirpy radio filtered voice portrayed some genuine happiness that didn't reach you. The bond and trust that used to tie you two together, had been damaged beyond repair. And Alastor knew. That didn't mean he was going to give up, though.

Before he had the chance to make things even more awkward between you two, the door bursted open, revealing several people behind it.

"Oh, you're awake, that's so great! We were all sooo worried since Al suddenly brought you here, and you seemed passed out, we didn't know if you were alive or-" The blonde haired demon kept rambling, but you barely listened to her, way too much in shock. Behind her, there was a bunch of demons: a winged cat who would be rather doing anything else than be there, a tiny cyclops with a psychotic and perky smile; a spider demon who, if anything, looked confused; a taller cyclops demon girl who found the dirt in her nails to be way more interesting than you, and some kind of moth demon girl? You wondered if they all were going to participate in your slaughter or were just going to watch.

"-aaaand who were you again?" The blonde demon asked with an awkward smile.

"I'm very glad you're asking! Because this is no other than my beloved little girl!" Alastor opened his arms widely in a dramatic form of presentation as the sound effect of a studio crowd cheering mixed with his voice.

"Wha- hold the fuck up? Your daughter??? Didn't you sing to Luci-?"

One glare full of murderous intention and loud static was enough for the spider demon to shut up.

"Now, now, how about we let the newest addition to our merry little band have a well deserved rest." Your dad not so gently pushed the uninvited guests back towards the door.

"Addition? Is she our new guest?" The moth-like demon girl asked.

Alastor's face darkened and loud static filled the room. "A҉b҉s҉o҉l҉u҉t҉e҉l҉y҉ ҉n҉o҉t҉.҉". He swapped back to his more charming persona. "She'll be joining our facility as an assistant!" His tone admitted no further questioning, and, quite reluctantly, the staff and guests left the room.

So that's the story about how you ended working in the Hazbin Hotel.

Your work was mainly small chores or helping others. Nifty needed help to clean the rooms? You were there. Someone needed you to take cover at the reception? On it. Whatever tiny task someone needed help with, you had to do it.

You were not allowed to leave the hotel. Alastor made sure of that. Wherever you went, he made sure some of his shadows followed if he was not around, just to keep you controlled; although he'd rather call it, 'lovingly checking on his little baby'. It really was not needed, even if you didn't trust nobody there and your guard was still up, where else would you go? It was literal hell outside.

Years of hiding and living in constant fear of death or something worse had left you extremely mistrustful and fearful of people. There were times were you believed this was all a ruse to lure you into a false sense of security and then hit you were it hurt most.

It's not like you didn't believe in Charlie's dream, it was just you couldn't believe it could be possible, your father had very sincerely stated that he was just sponsoring it because he loved watching doomed souls struggle to achieve something meaningful and then fail spectacularly. Of course he did.

So, at least you had a roof over your head, enough food to eat, and a no-killing rule inside the hotel. Things could be worse.

Yet, there was still something inside you, something that you so desperately tried to let go but were unable to, as it had rooted itself deeply inside your mind and heart.

It started with small things, maybe a loud sound, maybe a bit of blood, it didn't matter because you could already feel yourself breathing heavily and sweating. It was like the entire world vanished around you. You couldn't breath, you couldn't think, your mind was on edge and your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest. You were completely paralized with fear, your hands shaking furiously, making you drop whatever you were holding.

These episodes started becoming more and more frequent, the more you tried to fight against them, the stronger they became. Whenever Charlie, Vaggie or any guest tried to ask you about them you always tried to brush them off, not wanting them to see it as a weak spot to exploit.

After several episodes and you refusing to open yourself, Alastor had enough of watching you suffer and decided to take matters into his own hands. So, he took you to Rosie.

If you expected something out of a place called 'Cannibal Town' it certainly wasn't that. It looked so... normal, like any other town you would have found back in your time. Well, if you ignored the people eating an entire corspe on the street. Your father gently moved your face to face front, because apparently it was rude to stare.

Oh Rosie immediately adored you. 100% godmother material. That southern belle couldn't wait to pamper you and dress you up in all kinds of fancy clothes.

Talking to Rosie was surprisingly, easy, if you looked over her cannibalistic tendencies. She kindly offered you some fresh fingers, but quickly backed up when she saw you turning green, jokingly saying "Ah, teenagers and their diets."

Sessions with Rosie always left you crying and drained but in a positive way, you felt like a huge load had been lifted off your shoulders. It may be a long road ahead but it was a great start.

Talking to Vaggie also helped. Turns out being a former exterminator had left not only physical but psychological scars on her. The first months after she had been left to die in hell had also been very struggling for her. She helped you with breathing exercises, held your hands when they started shaking, and even was willing to teach you some self defence. Which your dad opposed to.

Charlie was... Charlie, always positive and upbribing but also respecting your boundaries, you were almost starting to belive she was being genuine.

There was another member of the staff who had not been present when you were first brought there and you had yet to meet. The King of Hell himself, Lucifer. Just knowing he could be there send shivers down your spine, wondering what kind of diabolical entity could he be. When you first saw that 4' overly excited manchild, at first you thought it was a joke.

Lucifer took a liking to you pretty easily, much to the annoyance of Alastor. He was curious about how someone as innocent and young as you could have ended in a place like that and vowed to protect you if someone ever gave you trouble. Your dad is seething. "Here, take this." And he just gives you a toy duck who backflips and makes the cutest rubber ducky noise. You loved it. Your dad is about to break the no-killing rule.

Alastor tried to win back your trust and love, even if he knew it was going to be a long and arduous task. He didn't care. He just got you back he was never letting you go.

He may not believe entirely in Charlie's dream, but he knew that if it was possible the one who had more chances to go straight to Heaven would be you. And he was not having that.

Alastor briefly considered making a deal to own your soul, just to ensure your safety and his control.

Up to this day he still doesn't know how you ended down there, and can't wait for the day when you will trust him enough to tell him.

He will respect your boundaries begrudgingly, he is your dad, he knows best. Will play nice and let you take your time with things. He will quietly show support for your emotional progress and make light physical contact, just enough to be supportive and not freak you out.

He cooks for you, and only you. The old homemade grandma's recipes he used to make back in your living times. At first, you didn't trust it, thinking he could have poisoned it. But the second you tasted his Jambalaya you felt like crying. Not only because after ninety years barely eating you were famished, but because for a couple of seconds, something there in the taste and smell had brought you back to simpler times. (like the Ratatouille guy)

Alastor truly desires to hear you call him 'Dad' again, you had yet to do so. Yes, you recognise him as your father, but after everything it just pains you to address him as such. It's like your dad and Alastor were two separate people. The loving father vs the serial killer, the guardian vs the Radio Demon.

He really loves you very much and it's been hard on him to keep that much distance from his little fawn. So he takes out his frustration on others, don't turn the radio on when he tells you not to.

And with time, his efforts were rewarded. Somewhat. You seemed to have gotten a bit more comfortably around him, at least you didn't flinch or recoil anytime he approached you. But you couldn't forget, you couldn't overlook the fact that he was a murderer and a cannibal and still doubted if anything you two had lived together had been truly genuine.

Honestly, it offended him that you would even think that way. Wasn't he there for you, always? Didn't he protect you from the darkness of the outside world during your living times? Wasn't he, as a father, devoted enough to his fawn?

But of course, actions spoke louder than words, and his actions had left too many cracks in your trust. But he will keep trying to win you back. Alastor's very patient demon, he has all the time in the world.

Y̸̗͉̺̱͂̕o̸̧̯̞̟̰̪̗̱̳̱̎̈̿̄̄͛̅͝͝û̴̦͔̹͈̣̥̾͛͑͗͋̅̏̂̚ͅ ̷̭͋̈͛̽͒̅̀̈́́̚a̷��̅̇̃͌̿͐̄̕��̢̢̖̦͕̞͚͔̻̳r̵̨̢̺̦͇͚̙̈́̅̽́̊͠ę̶̺̖͋̐͐͌͘͠͝ ̶̖̲͎̜̮͚͉̰̒n̵̢͕̝͖̗̜̣̾̾̇̾̅̽͊͘ǫ̴̼̺̠̱̦̘̒̈̎̿̇́̔̉t̴͙͇̼̱̻̦̦͔̖͙̍͌ ̸̩̂́̎͒͘g̶͔͚̰̺͔͉͓͍͔̈́̽̈́͋͘͜o̵̹͔̫͚̼͚͒͑į̷̧̫͔̹͉̰̘̮̍͋͒̈n̸̢͕̙̙̞͔̓͐̓ͅg̵͖͇̜͚̗͙̤̫̱̝̉̂́̚ ̴̪̂͑̓̊͛a̷̖̞͊̄̈́͑͋̈́̄͘n̶̻̟̙̝̪̩͂̋͗ẏ̸̨̛̱̱͇̱͖̤͕̥͛́̍̂͛̕͠w̸̛̖͎̫̑h̵͔̝̣̀ẹ̵̝͍̳̟͚̪̍̒͋̒̀̊̏r̷̨͉͉̒̑̉̒̄̎̓̎͜͝͠ȅ̸̩͇̳.̵̠̪̖̍͂͠.

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Difference of Opinions (Part 1)

Fandom: Spider-Man, Spider-Verse, Across the Spider-Verse, Miguel O'Hara, f!Reader Summary: You went against the man you loved and helped Miles escape. Now you must face Miguel's wrath. Word Count: 1821 TW: Angst, Betrayal, Anger, Glitching, Left for Dead, Miguel has a temper Notes: I told myself I wasn't going to get sucked into writing for this movie, but this idea wouldn't stop nagging at my brain so here you go!

Prequel, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Series Masterlist

*Spoilers for Across the Spider-Verse*

As you watched Miles disappear in a flash of the Go Home machine, you couldn’t help but smile. For a moment, you had been afraid that he wasn’t going to make it. That despite everything you, Hobie, and Margo had done to help him, Miguel was going to stop him before he could escape. But he got to go home to try and save his father. He had a chance.

However, the smile slowly faded from your face as Miguel roared and ripped the arm off of the Go Home machine. You had been so focused on getting Miles off of Earth-928 that you hadn’t considered what happened afterwards. This was going to be bad.

The room had filled with other Spider-people who had all been involved in the chase for Miles and they all just stared at Miguel. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Margo’s avatar disappear and you sighed in relief. At least she would escape Miguel’s fury. 

Right now, his focus had turned towards Gwen. As they began yelling back and forth at one another and Miguel dragged her into the Go Home machine, you started to back out of the room as inconspicuously as possible. While part of you wanted to run to Gwen’s aid, she was being sent back to her own universe. It was heartbreaking to watch– especially knowing what was going to happen to her father when she returned –however, she was getting off easy considering her part in getting Miles involved in the Spider-Society in the first place. Things could have been a lot worse for her. As they would probably be for you if you didn’t let Miguel cool down for a while before confronting him.

You had just about made it to the door when you heard a snarl behind you. “And where do you think you’re going?”

Red webs coiled around your arms and legs pinning them to your body and making you fall to the floor. Before you could try to squirm your way out, Miguel yanked hard and you flew backwards into him. He caught your chin with one large hand, his nails sharpening into claws and digging painfully into your skin as he held you off the ground. 

His red eyes flashed dangerously as he roared in your face, “Did you think I wouldn’t see you trying to slink away? You helped him escape! You! Of the hundreds of us in the Spider-Society, you were the last one I ever imagined turning against me.”

“I haven’t turned against you, Miguel. You know I love you too much to ever do that.” With your face still pinned in his grasp, you tried your best to keep your expression calm and non-confrontational. You knew how he got when he was like this and it was better to not get him even more agitated. However, your voice remained firm and unwavering. “But right now, you’re letting your past cloud your judgment and you’re not thinking clearly. I was just trying to–”

“He’s trying to alter a second canon event! We still haven’t dealt with what he did in Mumbattan and you just let him get away to do it again!” He bared his sharp teeth at you as he growled deep in his throat. In all your years together as friends or as lovers, you had never once feared Miguel would hurt you…. until this moment. All reason seemed to have left him and all you saw when you looked at his face was fury and pain. There was no trace of the man you loved before you.

Trying to keep the quiver out of your voice, you calmly said, “You said it yourself. Miles is an anomaly. He was never supposed to be one of us so who’s to say he has to uphold the canon events? From what I can tell, the Peter Parker of that world already lost his captain before he died. So maybe Miles has a chance none of us ever got. Maybe he doesn’t have to bear this loss like the rest of us. Maybe he can change his fate.”

“‘Maybe! Maybe! Maybe’! You risked the lives of an entire universe on maybe!” Miguel’s grip on your face tightened and you mewled slightly as his claws broke skin. “Whether or not he was supposed to be Spider-Man, he is now. And that means he must follow the canon. If he was different than the rest of us, he wouldn’t have already lost his uncle.”

“Or may– possibly becoming the Prowler is what got that Aaron Davis killed, not because he was Miles’s uncle.” You tried to reach up to stroke Miguel’s cheek, to calm some of his anger, but your hands were still pinned to your side by his webs. “Miguel, don’t do this. I’m begging you. Please, let Miles try. Trust that I know what I’m doing.”

Slowly, Miguel’s fury faded from his face until there was nothing left but pain. Pain that you knew you had caused. He lowered you to the floor and loosened his grip on your face though he didn’t release you. Then, as he stared deeply into your eyes, he spoke in an agonized whisper. “I did trust you. I would have gone to the ends of the multiverse and beyond for you. I gave you my heart even after I swore never to open myself up to anyone again but you turned your back on me the first chance you had.”

Tears sprung to your eyes and you squirmed against the webs, desperate to touch him. To hold him and make him feel that your love for him never wavered. “You know that’s not true. I’ve stood by your side from the very beginning. I’ve loved you and helped you build this Society so we could uphold the canon across hundreds of universes. But I just… I just couldn’t stand by this time and not at least give Miles a chance to try and save someone he loves. I’m sorry.”

For just a moment, you thought you saw a glimpse of compassion or love in his gaze but it was quickly replaced by bitter cold indifference. “I’m not.”

His claws slashed through his webbing, freeing your limbs. But before you could move, Miguel grabbed your arm, ripped your portal watch from your wrist, and hurled it against the wall where it shattered into pieces. Still holding your arm, he tossed you across the room. You crashed into the floor and slid another dozen feet or so on your side. And just as you slowed to a stop, you glitched as this unfamiliar universe attacked your cells. 

You felt like your body was simultaneously being compressed and stretched in a hundred directions at once. When the glitch ended, you let out a small whimper but the sound didn’t cull Miguel’s rage any. Even as you lay in a heap on the ground, he tossed a disk in your direction and suddenly a red transparent field surrounded you. 

Unable to believe he was really doing this to you, you called out to him but he ignored your plea. Instead, he turned his back on you and growled, “Jess, Ben, come with me. And somebody catch Spot.”

Jess glanced at his retreating form then back to where you were now confined. “Miguel. You can’t just leave her like this. Without a watch–”

“She made her bed, now she can die in it,” he snapped without turning around. He simply opened a portal and said, “Let’s go.”

Ben fell in behind him, but Jess hesitated, her hand reaching out towards you. But you shook your head. Miguel had judged you and once that happened, no one could change his mind. Jess had too much to lose by trying to help you and despite hating to see her leaving to track Miles down, you knew she was just as trapped now as you were. So, reluctantly, she turned and followed Miguel and Ben into the portal.

Now alone, you pulled your knees up to your chest and buried your face in them. You didn’t regret helping Miles, but you never imagined this would be the consequence. Miguel had a right to feel betrayed yet the fact he would go this far– that he was alright with you slowly glitching out of existence – broke your heart. Miguel had never been a saint but you never imagined he could do this. Not to you. How could his love sour so quickly that he was willing to let you die rather than try to understand why you did what you did? 

No. I won’t accept that.

Miguel was just not thinking clearly after everything that had happened today. Deep down, he still loved you. He had to. Just as you still loved him despite him leaving you to die in this cage. If you could only show him that you were right and Miles was different, then maybe Miguel could forgive you for going against him. And maybe there was still hope for the two of you. Or maybe he would still want you dead. 

Wow, Miguel was right and you did rely heavily on “maybe”.

However, there was just something about this situation that made you believe in those maybes. For years you had protected the multiverse by Miguel’s side and you had never questioned his decisions or a canon event. But something in your gut– in your spider-sense –was telling you this time was different. That Miles really could break from the canon without the same consequences as the others. But you would never know unless you found a way out of this cage!

Suddenly, you remembered how Miles managed to escape the same sort of prison an hour before. You might not have his Venom Blast powers but maybe Miguel presented you with your own way to escape. Spreading your arms and legs out as far as you could, you pressed yourself against the force field so you covered as much area as you possibly could. Then you waited.

About four minutes later, it happened. You glitched again but this time, you were ready for it. Using all the strength you could muster, you fought against the glitch and kept yourself pressed against the field. As your body began to flicker and change, so did the force field. When things finally corrected themselves and you were left moaning on the floor, you opened your eyes to see what was once your cage had been transformed into a pile of random junk from across the multiverse.  

Giving it a slight push, the pile collapsed and you walked out of the remains of your prison. You were free. Now, you just had to find a way off of Earth-928 and back into the multiverse to find Miles before Miguel did. And you thought you had an idea about where to start….

Thank you for reading, liking, commenting, and/or rebloging! I am planning a prequel to this fic showing how Miguel and Reader met and I may also do a sequel fic to this one. If you are interested, please let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! Thanks!

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: a little fic inspired by a convo @youunravelme and i had a couple of days ago! couldn’t stop thinking about this little idea and just had to write it ☺️ a little bit more lore in the squeaks’ verse added here and lots more to come! enjoy!!

tw: a little innuendo, domestic fluff

word count: 4.3k

summary: it’s talia’s first day of kindergarten and neither you nor mat is handling it particularly well

mat and t’s first day of kindergarten

You lean forward on the counter and smile at Talia, who’s looking at you skeptically. “How about we pick some snacks for your lunch tomorrow?” You ask chirpily.

“How about no?” Talia looks back at you with wide hazel eyes and a nervous tilt to her lips. Her fingers twist together and she kicks the heels of her feet against the legs of the stool she’s sitting on.

“You’re going to be hungry if we don’t pack any snacks,” you reply reasonably, unzipping the brand new Disney Princess lunchbox you’d picked up a few weeks ago at Target. The rush of back to school shopping, even if it wasn’t for you, was a high like nothing else. You’d gone slightly overboard on the supplies and in a burst of excitement, had bought yourself a new planner and half a dozen packs of various styles of pen. You can’t help but get excited about stationary.

“If I was home I wouldn’t be hungry and I could have snacks whenever I want,” Talia points out, tugging at the end of her dark braid. She twists her fingers in the hair below the tie and you reach over the counter to gently untangle her fingers.

You prop your chin on your palm and nod. “You could. But you’re not going to be home. It’s your first day of kindergarten and you’re going to have so many new experiences,” your tone is infused with excitement and you’re relieved to see that the nervousness in Talia’s expression fades a little. Her mouth twists to the side, eyebrows drawing together over her nose.

“Am I gonna see Tulsa?” She asks, hopeful.

“Tulsa’s in the next school, remember, baby?” You reply carefully, hating to burst her bubble. “She moved to a new school too.”

Talia’s lower lip quivers and she sounds impossibly sad when she says, “I thought me and Tulsa were gonna be in school together?”

“Not this year,” you reply sympathetically, but then perk up to continue, “we’re still getting first day of school ice cream with Tulsa and Gunnar and Aunt Holly and Uncle Bo. That’s exciting, right?”

Talia’s eyes light up at the promise of ice cream and you knew that would work. She’s her father’s daughter when it comes to her sweet tooth.

“And you and Daddy, right?” She asks, leaning up in her knees on the stool, little palms pressed flat against the countertop.

“And me and Daddy,” you confirm. “We’re even bringing you to school in the morning, before Daddy goes to work.”

“Okay,” Talia nods once, decisive, and her mood about starting kindergarten is all but gone. “Mommy, can I have fishies for a snack tomorrow?”

You move around the kitchen, gathering up the components for her lunch, “sure, love bug, you can have fishies.” The snack-sized packet of Goldfish get tossed into her lunchbox, along with a handful of raspberries, a peeled Cutie, exactly five pretzel twists, a Nutella and peanut butter sandwich cut into stars, and a small water bottle. Now that she’s into it, Talia’s definitely got opinions on what should be included with her lunch.

“No, you can’t take seven cheese sticks,” you sigh, pulling the bag out of her hands and replacing it in the fridge before shutting the door. “I’ll give you one.”

“But I want six!” She yelps, hanging from the fridge handle. “I want six!”

“Six what?” Mat’s voice echoes through the kitchen, the back door closing behind him.

“Daddy!” Talia squeals and makes a beeline for his knees, crashing into them with a muffled grunt from Mat. He holds the pizza box high over her head in one hand and rubs at her head with the other. “Mommy won’t let me have six cheese sticks.”

Mat grins at you over Talia’s head and you roll your eyes back, crossing your arms and leaning a hip against the counter. You wait to see how he’ll handle it.

He slides the pizza box onto the counter and hoists Talia up next to it, leaning his palms on the counter and kissing her cheeks until she giggles. “Mommy is always right, Talia Bee,” he says seriously. “Especially when it comes to knowing how many string cheeses you can eat.”

You smile to yourself, turning to the cabinets to get out plates and glasses for dinner. Mat keeps talking to Talia behind you. “Besides, the last time you ate three string cheeses you puked on my sneakers, what do you think six would do?”

“Uhhh,” Talia’s eyes go wide and she cradles Mat’s face in her little hands, “puke six times?”

You and Mat wrinkle your faces into matching expressions of disgust. “Yeah, we don’t want to do that, right?” Mat laughs, tickling Talia until she shrieks for him to stop.

Before Talia can knock into it, you slide the pizza box out of her reach, warmth filling your stomach at how adorable Mat and Talia are together. Every time you see them, with their dark heads bent together conspiring, your heart lurches with love. Having a family with Mat is all you’ve wanted since you’d seen him around his teammates’ kids.

“Daddy?” Talia pipes up a few minutes later, half-chewed pizza in her mouth.

“Swallow first, please,” you remind her, snagging the green peppers off of Mat’s slice. You have no idea when he even orders with green peppers when you’re the only one who likes them.

Talia chews and quickly swallows while Mat waits with a soft smile on his face. “Can I wear my helmet to school?” She props her chin on her fists and grins charmingly at you both. Her hockey helmet is covered in stickers and glitter, a project with Mat that you hadn’t been privy to before it happened. She’s really easy to spot on the ice during her skating lessons though.

Mat grins at your daughter, clearly delighted at the prospect of her walking into her classroom with the decorated helmet on, but he shakes his head a little. “I think your helmet is better left on the rink, TB. Didn’t you and Mommy pick out a dress?”

You casually slide a few carrot sticks on her plate, mentally fist pumping when she grabs one and absently starts chewing on it. “Yeah, baby,” you chime in, “I thought you liked the dress we picked? With the blue stripes and your fancy heels?”

Talia’s fancy heels are a regular old pair of sandals with a twisted knot over the toes and an ankle strap, but they also have a quarter of an inch thick sole by the heel and so, they’re “fancy heels.”

“Oh yeah,” Talia nods. “I forgot. Can I bring Sparky?”

“Sure you can,” you agree. “But he has to stay in your backpack, okay? We don’t want him getting lost.”

“And maybe,” she plucks her fingers at the crust of her pizza, “maybe I can take Daddy’s hat. And maybe my sparkle jacket?” Nerves creep into her voice and it wavers a bit, making your heart clench painfully. You just want to protect her from all the bad feelings.

Mat reaches out to tug at the end of her braid, “you can take my hat in your backpack too.” His lips twist up to the side a little, concerned about Talia’s nerves.

“And you can wear your sparkle jacket over your dress,” you promise. Mat’s Stanley Cup Champion hat and Talia’s customised playoff denim jacket had been staples in her wardrobe all summer and you’re not surprised that she wants to bring both with her to school as comfort items.

Talia beams and Mat slings his arm over the back of your chair, relaxing now that Talia’s happy again. “How about you finish that pizza and we get in a little park time?” He suggests, laugh echoing around the kitchen when Talia jumps up on her chair to start chanting about the park.

After clearing up dinner and wrapping the leftover pizza up, the three of you head out to the park, Talia zipping ahead of you on her little pink bike. Mat links his fingers with yours and you squeeze his hand gently.

“She’s getting so big,” he comments sadly, his lips turning down in a frown. You look up at his side profile, studying the way his eyes never leave Talia for a second. Your heart flips in your chest, a painful lurch when you think about how you should be holding another baby right now, how you want so badly to give Talia younger siblings. Mat looks down at you and squeezes your hand tightly, drawing you away from the negative thought spiral. His lips twitch, like he’s trying not to smile and you know he’s about to say something out of pocket to lift your mood. You wait and sure enough, he says, with a little twinkle in his eye, “maybe we should homeschool her?”

A laugh bubbles out of your chest, the absurdity of his question slash suggestion easing the knot in your chest.

“Mat, baby,” you giggle at him, “you have a high school education and I can’t do math. It took all of my brain power and patience to teach her how to read and write.”

“Okay, homeschooling is out,” he replies, leaning in to give you a quick peck before running off to the swings, where Talia is calling for him to push her. She still has her helmet on and it’s tipping just a little bit over her eyes. Mat’s behind her in an instant, sending the swing higher and higher into the air. You reach Talia’s bike and set it upright, sitting on the seat and watching your two favorite people in the whole world laugh together.

A warm early September breeze ruffles your hair and you wave when Talia shrieks for you to watch how high she’s going. You want to live in this moment forever and commit every detail to memory.

Mat spends the next forty-five minutes chasing Talia around the park, wearing her out enough that bath time is a breeze and she slips under her covers with little argument. You and Mat pile into her bed too and Talia curls up against your side, yawning widely. Mat reads Madeline, voice getting quieter and quieter as Talia nods off, until he’s stopped reading altogether and her mouth hangs open, face slack in sleep.

“Sleep tight, love bug,” you whisper, kissing the top of her head before easing out from under her arm. Mat helps, holding your waist and keeping you steady as you get to your feet. He plants his own kiss on Talia’s forehead and clicks off the bedside lamp and turns on the nightlight before following you out of the room.

A sort of bittersweet mood traps you and Mat while you get ready for bed later. You know she’s ready for school, ready to make new friends and learn, but it’s hard to know that your tiny best friend is going to be out of your sight for eight hours a day now.

“She’s going to kill it,” Mat says, opening his arms for you to cuddle close. You rest your cheek over his heart, arms wrapped around his waist.

“I know,” you sigh. Your legs tangle with Mat’s under the covers. “What am I going to do with my day now?”

“Bottomless brunches and window shopping at the Americana,” Mat teases, kissing the crown of your head.

You tuck yourself even closer to him, soaking up his body warmth. “Oh ha,” you drawl. “Very funny.”

“It’s why you married me,” Mat chirps and you know he’s grinning without even having to look at him.

“Mhm,” you hum. “Definitely not for your big….wallet.”

You giggle and Mat groans, training his fingers up and down your spine, making you shiver. “That was even worse than mine, Squeaks,” he mutters.

“Guess your terrible sense of humor is rubbing off on me,” you snark, kissing Mat’s chest and closing your eyes. He mutters something under his breath, but his heartbeat is steady in your ear and you’re asleep before you know it.

The next morning is harder than you expected, emotion clogging your throat as you get a special breakfast - Mickey Mouse shaped pancakes, bacon, and fruit cut into different shapes - ready for Talia while Mat helps her get dressed.

He’s surprisingly adept at doing her hair, a high ponytail braided and tied off. There’s a big white bow at the top of her ponytail and her smile is huge as she spins in the little blue and white striped sundress.

“I love this dress, Mommy,” she beams, wiggling excitedly while you tuck a napkin into her collar to keep her clean.

“You look like a princess,” you compliment her. “Daddy did a really good job with your hair.”

“Thank you,” Mat wiggles his eyebrows and sits down to his own plate of Mickey pancakes.

Talia looks at you with wide eyes and covers her mouth with both hands while she tries to whisper, “Daddy messed up soooo many times.”

Mat’s lips flatten into a straight line and he looks at Talia with sarcasm written plainly on his features. “Gee, thanks, TB. I thought we agreed not to tell Mommy that?”

Talia shrugs at him and returns to her breakfast, humming happily under her breath. You smile at Mat and lean over the counter to kiss him gently, darting your tongue out to lick up a drop of maple syrup on his lower lip. “I still think you’re pretty impressive,” you whisper against his lips.

Mat grins against your lips and Talia makes a fake gagging sound, “kissing’s gross!”

You pull back from Mat with a laugh and point your fork at your daughter. “You won’t always think that, now finish breakfast. You don’t want to be late for your first day, do you?”

Talia shovels another bite of pancake into her mouth, slightly less enthusiastic, and you kiss the top of her head before going into the front hall to find her backpack to make sure everything is packed up. It’s heavy, full of fresh supplies (including a 64-pack of Crayola crayons with Talia’s initials Sharpied onto each individual crayon, a fit of mania from Mat, because “no one is going to try and snake my baby’s crayons from her!”), the Disney Princess beach towel that’ll be used for nap time, and one of Mat’s old button downs that’ll be used for a smock during art class.

You zip the backpack and settle it back against the wall, swallowing the emotion clogging your throat. Seeing all of Talia’s gear packed up is making everything so much more real.

Mat’s hands on your hips startle you a little, and you jolt back against his chest. “Penny for your thoughts?” He mutters, kissing your cheek. His palms are warm on your sides, fingers splayed towards your belly button.

“Just thinking about how it seems like time is moving so fast,” you sigh.

Mat nods against your neck and mumbles into your skin, “can we get serious about trying for another again? I miss the baby years.”

Your heart beats in triple speed in your chest, anxiety flooding your veins, but you nod, whisper, “yes, definitely. I want another baby, Mat.”

The conversation is halted when Talia comes stampeding into the hallway, twirling around. “Mommy! Can I wear your lipstick?” She clasps her hands under her chin and pouts adorably. You should resist, tell her no and swipe on a little of the Pink Sugar Summer Fridays lip balm that she loves instead, but you find yourself nodding and pulling away from Mat to grab your purse off the hook.

“Sure, baby,” you squat in front of her, digging out the well-loved tube of Black Honey from the bottom of your purse. Talia puckers her lips out in a kiss and you swipe on a little bit of the sheer balm.

Twenty minutes later and running slightly behind schedule, after you make Talia pose for a few pictures with her Back to School board and she insists on Mat sitting on the step next to her for a picture, you’re all buckled into Mat’s car for the quick drive to the primary school. Talia’s swinging her feet in her booster seat, smiling happily now that she’s wearing the red cowboy boots Aunt Liana had brought back as a souvenir from her trip to Nashville over the summer instead of the sandals you initially wanted her to wear.

“Mommy,” Talia sing-songs, “I’m hot.”

“The air conditioning is on, T,” you sigh, rubbing at your temple. You know she’s probably hot because of the boots and the denim jacket she’d insisted on wearing. Her sandals are in your tote bag and all she has to do is ask for them, but a stubborn streak runs through your daughter, inherited directly from both you and Mat.

You can see the side of Mat’s lips tick up out of the corner of your eye, his fingers tapping along on the steering wheel as Justin Bieber plays on the radio - the old-school throwback station, which makes you feel ancient. He looks at Talia in the rear view mirror and says casually, “I bet you’d feel better if you let Mommy give you the sandals.”

Talia’s face crinkles up in disgust. “I don’t want the sandals. I wanna wear my Mashpill boots.”

A little giggle bubbles up in your chest, it’s getting rarer that Talia mispronounces a word, so you’re living for the Nashville/Mashpill mistake.

“The sandals won’t be as hot,” Mat says, and then, laughing, adds, “plus your feet won’t stink!”

“My feet don’t stink!” Talia gasps, outraged. She shoots back, shouting, “your feet stink!”

You laugh and Mat mock-glares at you. You give him an innocent smile, teasing, “keep your eyes on the road, dear.”

Mat scoffs at you, rolling his eyes even as a full smile graces his lips. Talia’s still chanting in the back about stinky feet, at the right age for the silly humor. Mat reaches out and rests his hand on your thigh, letting his fingertips drift up under the hem of the linen dress you’re wearing. The pads of his fingers dance lightly over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh and you shiver a little, goosebumps rising on your arms. Mat’s smile turns smug and he taps the volume button on the steering wheel with his other hand, singing along loudly to the Billy Joel song now playing. Talia’s little voice chimes in from the back seat with her made up lyrics, and by the second verse, you’ve joined in for the three-part harmony.

Mat pulls the car up to the curb outside of the school, parking behind a line of SUVs before turning the car off and pocketing his keys.

“Ready, T?” You turn around in your seat, smiling widely at her.

She sighs and kicks her feet up at you. “Mommy, can I have my sandals?”

Your smile softens and you nod, reaching behind you for the tote resting at your feet. “Sure can, baby. I think you’ll be more comfortable this way,” you reply, getting out of the front seat so you can open Talia’s door and change out her shoes before she hops out of her booster seat. Mat’s already out on the sidewalk, holding her little pink backpack in one hand.

He looks like such a stereotypical dad in his dark jeans and navy polo, hair scraped back off his forehead and slightly beat up sneakers. The little pink backpack just makes him even hotter and you can’t help but stare. When Mat catches you looking, he gives you a slow smirk and a quick wink, holding his hand out for Talia to take.

She grabs his hand with her free one and lifts her feet off the ground without warning, swinging between you and Mat. Your arm nearly pulls out of its socket and your heart skips a quick beat, but Talia giggles and you love that she feels safe enough to do that. Mat swings his arm, sending Talia forward and eliciting even more giggles.

“Maybe we can just skip school and go to the park?” Talia asks, planting her feet back on the ground and squinting up at the school. It’s a cute little square brick building, kindergarten and first grade classrooms on the outside of the hallways and glass windows looking in on a courtyard. The ceilings are lower inside to make it more welcoming to the kids and Mat can brush the ceiling tiles with his fingertips when he stretches his arm over his head - something he had learned during the open house a few weeks ago.

But from the way Talia’s looking at the building now you’d think she was standing in front of Hogwarts.

At the same time you open your mouth to suggest going to the park after school, Mat pipes up and says, “that’s a good idea, TB. You don’t need to go to school, you can just stay home with Mommy.”

“Mat!” You hiss at him over Talia’s head and he cocks his head at you, barely looking apologetic.

“What?” He mutters back. “It’s an option.”

“It’s not!” You say, at the same time Talia says, “I wanna stay with Mommy.”

You glare at him, hoping your expression conveys the exact levels of ‘see what you did?’ that you’re feeling. Mat’s mouth curls in a sheepish expression and you can see his hand tighten around Talia’s, like he’s not going to let her into the school. Before any of the three of you can say anything, you spot a tall older woman striding down the path towards your little group. You recognize her as the principal and are bracing yourself for the absolute hysterics that Talia is sometimes prone to.

“Hi Talia,” she smiles, bending a little at the waist so she can be at eye level with your daughter, “I’m Mrs. Seaver, the principal. Do you remember meeting me at open house?”

Talia nods, totally mute, her fingers tightening around yours. Your hear squeezes a little for her, nearly ready to break down and bring her home, like Mat had suggested.

“Why don’t you come with me and we can get you settled in your classroom?” Mrs. Seaver continues, somehow managing to get Talia’s hand and backpack away from Mat and starts walking her back up the path to the school. “Your mom and dad will be so excited to hear all about what exciting things you got up to today.”

Talia looks back at you over her shoulder, an apprehensive look on her face. Mat makes a move to step forward and follow them, but you reach out to lace your fingers with his, tugging him back gently. “We literally cannot keep her from going to school,” you whisper, pasting a bright smile on your face and waving at her with your free hand.

Mat looks constipated and you nudge him with the back of your hand, muttering, “smile,” until he manages something halfway decent.

“She’s just a baby,” he says out of the corner of his mouth, waving like a robot. “She shouldn’t be old enough for school.”

You sniffle a little, watching the door shut behind Talia and the principal, your hand dropping from the air. “I don’t understand how time went so fast,” you hiccup, tears building at your lash line. Anxiety starts to churn in your stomach. “Maybe you’re right, maybe we should keep her home another year.”

“Oh, whoa,” Mat wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you to his chest so he can hug you tightly. “We definitely need to distract you, if you’re starting to agree with me.”

He laughs and you manage a weak giggle against his shoulder. Mat’s hands are warm against your back and you melt into him. “I’m going to miss having my little sidekick around,” you confess, suddenly exhausted from holding it together. Other than a few hours a week at pre-k, Talia’s been by your side practically every second since birth.

Mat drops a kiss to the top of your head, “I’ve got a couple of hours before I have to hit the gym, why don’t we go home and make you a new sidekick?”

You can hear the grin in his voice and you pull back from his chest, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Don’t tease me, Mat,” you murmur, heart pounding wildly. He’d said about trying again earlier, but you weren’t really sure if he was serious.

“Not teasing you, Squeaks,” he replies, the familiar nickname falling from his lips warmly. At this point, he uses it more than your given name, the curse of those damn Nikes. Mat grips your chin in between his thumb and index finger and tilts it up a little more so he can bend his head and kiss you sweetly. “Let’s give it another try and if…well, if not, we can look more into surrogacy again.”

Your head bobbles a nod and your heart swoops a little in your chest, the excited/nervous fizz of Mat’s words making you feel a little dizzy. Baby making is a land mine sometimes for your brain, but right now all you know is that everything in your body is screaming for your husband to give you another baby.

Mat’s grip on your chin tightens briefly and he kisses you again, lacing your fingers with his to drag you back to the car. You skip along behind him, laughter fighting to escape your lips.

“Should we make this one in the bedroom?” Mat teases, holding open the door for you. His hazel eyes twinkle with mischief. “Or in the shower like T?”

A flush works its way up over your chest and face, your entire body going hot. Mat laughs at the expression on your face and you mutter, “we don’t know it was the shower.”

“Right, could’ve been the back seat of the car or the couch or in Bo’s bathroom,” Mat’s eyes dance, his smile wide and shit-eating.

You can’t help but smile back at him, electric delight working its way through your veins.

[universestreasures]

Extension / Spinoff Of This Thread With @shacchou

🎶"Looking up at the sky with you, two bright shining stars call to us. Here we are, standing strong. Shining with our Buddy Lights..."🎶

The gentle and soothing singing voice of his friend was pleasant on the young boy's ears. Never in a million years did he think Tasuku had such a hidden talent, and yet here he is listening to him sing a song from the heart just to try and help him feel better. Then again, the Buddy Police Boy Wonder was good at a lot of things: Buddyfighting, school, investigating; just to name a few. So, him being good at yet another thing shouldn't be too surprising by this point to Mokuba.

He really was just like...Seto, wasn't he?

Drawing those comparisons between Tasuku and his brother was what the young boy had begun to do unconsciously since their initial meeting, but such things slowly became more and more common as he spent more time here. In fact, even now as he sits there listening to the other sing his tune, he can't help but visualize a younger Seto there soothing him instead, despite the fact Mokuba's never heard his brother ever sing before in his life.

Yes, the pre-teen seemed to embody the positive qualities that Mokuba associated with his elder brother from the past: warmth, gentleness, selflessness, compassion, happiness, protectiveness, honesty; all of those things he saw in Tasuku. Perhaps it was those qualities in him that had drawn the younger boy to seek out his help specifically during this time. After all, this entire situation came about because of his own feelings regarding the past, a past he can't seem to stop trying to chase despite promises of a prosperous future.

Such feelings did not change ever since being here. In truth, being around the blue-haired boy just made them stronger, the younger Kaiba feeling a semblance of what was lost the day he and his older brother were adopted. That just spoke though to a simple fact, a fact the boy knew deep down but did not want to admit to himself: that Mokuba had not yet fully accepted in his heart who his brother was today, in spite of their improved relations after Duelist Kingdom.

Mokuba wasn't so naive as to think that neither him or Seto wouldn't change over time. That would be nonsensical, especially considering the circumstances of their lives since becoming Kaiba's. No, what Mokuba couldn't seem to comprehend, and felt frustration and sadness towards, was why his brother was still...well...a stick in the mud, to put it nicely, long after their stepfather was gone.

From his viewpoint, that man was the sole reason for Seto's major shift in demeanor. So why did he have to keep acting so cold and grumpy now? Like he wasn't looking forward to the future he had been preparing for them all this time? The question went unanswered in his mind, no matter how much he tried to come up with an answer.

It had taken Mokuba some time to regain his own true smile after everything that's happened, no part in short thanks to Yugi's crew and his own he managed to make. He wants the same for his brother, to heal past the pain of Gozaboru's tryannny and be able to be as happy as he was prior to it. That selfless desire that seemed so far out of reach was a key part of why he was so hurt. He felt like his brother was just keeping himself miserable needlessly, overworking himself to death and isolating himself from and rejecting anyone who dare try to add some happiness into his life.

He just wanted his brother to be happy again like he was before, to play with games again truly for the fun of it and not in pursuit of revenge or victory. Was that so wrong to wish? To wish his brother could try to start to heal after the suffering they both went through, like Mokuba had?

Clearly, that sentiment was wrong. Otherwise, the elder Kaiba wouldn't have rejected his feelings that night so fiercely. In spite of his good intentions, Mokuba's feelings were burdening his brother, trying to drag him to a place he didn't want to go near for reasons not understood. It's something he's felt since a young age and seen time and time again to the point where he questions whether his inclusion in Seto's life was ever a good thing.

If Mokuba wasn't around, then his brother no doubt would have been adopted quickly and potentially not by a monster like Gozaboru.

If Mokuba wasn't around, his brother wouldn't have had to fight so hard to protect and care for him all the time, to secure a future for them both when securing one for a genius like him alone would have been easier.

If Mokuba wasn't around...perhaps he never would have lost his smile to begin with.

The very thought causes tears to come from his purple eyes, syncing up with the end of Tasuku's sweet song. His breaths came out shaky, unable to stop the floodgates from flowing. Without needing to think, his hands move to clasp the pair of lockets around his neck, as if he would die without doing so.

"Why...? Why?! Why am I such a burden?! Such a bad brother?!"

His voice echoed throughout the small apartment room, his voice portraying the inner pain he felt akin to being kicked in the gutts. Why did he have to follow Gao's advice? Why did he have to speak his mind and say such hurtful things? Why didn't he just let things be as they are despite wanting so much more, like he's done before? Why did he do something that would risk his staying in his brother's life?!

Perhaps taking that risk was why Seto had yet to contact him since he left. Because maybe he felt the same thing Mokuba was starting to think: that he didn't want him to come back. That way, his brother wouldn't have to entertain the younger boy's 'nonsense' anymore, and he could live his life without being reminded of the past he clearly was repulsed by.

Maybe...things were better off this way, after all...

"Mokie Mokuba."

The all-too-familiar voice reaches his ears, and an all-too-familiar touch can be felt on his shoulders. Mokuba opened his teary eyes slowly in response. In front of him, with his vision blurred by the water, he...saw him. He saw his brother, but not the one of the past, but of the present.

Did he come here to see him? Did he come here to take him home? Did he come here because...he still loved him?

"S...eto...?"

"You're not..."

"A burden or a bad brother." The illusion Mokuba's mind had created shattered with Tasuku's next words, as gentle as they were. The young Kaiba was now thrust again into reality, purple hues glancing up at his friend who had been the one speaking the whole time. Seems like his mind and heart were continuing to play tricks on him.

How cruel.

"Listen to me. You've done nothing wrong. It's your brother who has. Don't blame yourself for his mistakes." Mokuba is then pulled into the other's arms, him being comforted by Tasuku's warmth. "Never think you can't express how you're feeling or that it's wrong to feel how you do, no matter who tells you."

The embrace lasted as long as he needed to calm himself. After having cried himself to death, the older kid lets go, gently standing up from his position of sitting next to the boy in order to gently try and guide Mokuba to lie down once again. Once he is set, he watches Tasuku grab the blankets, scattered at the bottom of the bed, and attempts to tuck him back in, not realizing his method of tucking was not to Mokuba's preference (it was too tight). Still, the young Kaiba didn't voice anything to the contrary, for he had lost his voice from all that crying.

"Now, try to get some rest, okay? Gao is coming over tomorrow. He said he wants to have a game of Capsule Monsters with you. I'm sure you two will have a blast." Tasuku then moves to the door's exit, Mokuba glancing over at the soft smile he can see through the light coming from the rest of the apartment. "Sleep well, Mokuba. And if you need anything, don't hesitate to call me or Jack. We're here for you."

The door then closes, leaving Mokuba alone in the room whose only light source was a nightlight Tasuku had gotten for him. He reaches for his Blue-Eyes plush, hugging it tightly for support. It's then he reaches with one of his arms to open his own locket, staring at the picture of Seto inside intensely until he passes out from emotional and physical exhaustion.

[the-dawn-star]

Hi, can you please write a scenario where a teen reader escaped from yandere platonic Mikaelsons family after discovering they are vampires that kills people accidentally? Thanks a lot.

A/N: I changed the idea a bit, hope you don't mind. Thanks for the request! Now, to bit more depressing topics: I have been feeling awful lately and I'm sorry that the update pace has been a lot slower. Let's hope I can fix that at some point.

-S

+500ish words.

TW/CW: Reader throws up, Kol kills people.

This couldn’t be real! This isn’t real, it’s all just a really bad realistic dream!  

You had walked to the house after a day of school. Your day had actually been pretty good, and your last class had been canceled. You had been excited to get home, to relax, but your plan didn’t go as well as you had thought.  

You had walked in to see blood, so much blood.  

And the bodies, all the bodies on the floor in pools of blood.  

And Kol..., someone that you had trusted for so long. Kol who had another dead corpse on his shoulder.  

And Rebekah sitting in an old armchair without a care in the world. Like this was normal.  

You were close to throwing up and you covered your mouth with your hand, scared of making a sound and having the siblings hear your presence.  

You could barely hear their bickering. It felt like their voices came from far away. The blood, the bodies, all of it was too overwhelming.  

You pressed your back against the wall, frozen in your place. You couldn’t stop yourself from throwing up all the day’s food to the floor.  

No sounds could reach you, no you must have been heard.  

“Oh, angel, what are you doing here? I thought you had another class! Are you okay? Are you feeling sick? Have you eaten anything spoiled or something?”  

Rebekah’s questions might have been comforting if not for the fact that there was a pile of bodies in the other room.  

Tears pricked in your eyes, and you pulled as far away from Rebekah’s touch as possible. It was too much... 

~~~ 

The rest of the afternoon went in a haze. You yelled and screamed and fought, terrified of the siblings.  

But at the end you lost the fight, tired while Kol held you in his arms you fell asleep exhausted.  

~~~ 

Waking up back in your bed was like heaven came true from a nightmarish day. It all had been just a dream... 

You took a deep breath only to be brought back to reality by the fact that your eyes were itchy and your throat dry. The moment of happiness was crushed in a second.  

You jumped off of your bed and ran to the door. It was locked from the outside... 

You wanted to scream, to curse the whole family and their stupid corpse pile.  

But before you could start any of it the door unlocked, and Elijah came in.  

“Elijah, what the hell is going on?” You asked, backing all the way to the bed.  

“My siblings aren’t very well versed in hiding their nature, I must apologize for what you saw.” 

The warm Elijah was nowhere in sight, the Elijah who had practically worked as a father figure for you.  

“Elijah please, I don’t understand what’s going on,” Your words sounded more like a plea, but you couldn’t help it.  

Elijah walked closer to me giving my forehead a gentle kiss.  

“Do not worry, in a few days the vervain is out of your system, and everything will go back to normal...”

[fl3shm4id3n]

Girl I saw u open requests for spider verse and I ran here right away snsnsknsmsjdndh I'm bad at explaining shit but could you write something for miguel that's like wait i forgot what I was gonna say damn I had a good scenario in my head too well hell never mind just ignore this I think im still tweaking lmao

ₗₐ ᵥᵢᵤdₐ ₍ₜₕₑ Wᵢdₒw₎

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴍɪɢᴜᴇʟ ᴏ'ʜᴀʀᴀ x ꜱᴘɪᴅᴇʀ-ᴡᴏᴍᴀɴ!(ᴡɪꜰᴇ) ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ꜱᴏɴɢ: ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʏʟᴠᴇʀꜱ- ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴀɪɴ

TW: Angst, Death, grieving, comfort towards the end

A/N: I had a fic idea for Miguel (My beloved), and now I shall write it. I listened to I bet on losing my dogs by Mitski while writing this. I didn't cry, I swear. I hope this was to your liking, I couldn't wait, I had the need to write something.

Masterlist

You had lost everything, your daughter and your husband. You knew that being Spider-Woman had a prize, but you didn't expect for it to be like this. First it was your aunt and now your family was gone. Sometimes you wished that you could of gone back in time in time to save your husband and daughter, but there was no way. The first weeks, you basically slept at the graveyard, on top of there tombstones, you didn't want to part away from them.

For many years you've mourned, you never let yourself fall in love again, your husband was the love of your life and the only man that you'd ever love. You felt as if you were betraying him in a way, you had promised to him that you'd never love anyone else but him and him only. You still had your wedding wing, you'd wear it on your hand and when out on patrol, you never took it off. You also still had his stuff in your room, pretending as if he was still there, you didn't have the heart to give his stuff away to people who needed it, you couldn't do it.

You also kept your daughter's room the same, you left it alone, the only time when you'd move anything was when you'd go to clean off the dust and change the bedsheets. Sometimes you'd go in her room to just look at the stuff she had, you felt as if she was with you the whole time. You'd lay on her bed while hugging her soccer jersey, her first jersey, sometimes you'd cry on the shirt, wishing that she was there, telling you and your husband about her game. Just like your husband's things, you didn't want to give them away. How could you? She was you first baby, your daughter, the one that you carried in your belly for nine months, the one who'd cry when she was hungry or wanted her parents attention, she was yours and Miguel's baby. Gabriella will always and forever be your child. Sometime you wore the little gold bracelet that she owned when she was still a baby, on a necklace, to have something of hers on while on patrol.

That was unexpected, you had ended up in a secret Spider Society with Miles. A boy you began to work with after bumping into one another while trying to stop a mugger, that was when you decided to team up together as a duo. You knew about his identity and he knew about yours. You both had come up with the excuse that you were a lady that was teaching him Spanish since his parents would wonder where he'd wonder off to. It worked his you knew Spanish, it was a different kind of Spanish, but his mother was happy that he was learning it.

You were getting to learn about all the Spider-Men and women, how they were all from different dimensions and what they did in headquarters. Then you got taken to a room, where who you assumed the leader of the whole thing was. As soon as you saw who it was, you nearly fainted. It was the one and only, Miguel O'Hara, your husband, well, not really your husband, but it was him.

"Y/n... is that who I think it is?" Miles whispered to you, then he saw the look off shock in your face, getting the idea that you knew who it was. Miles knew about your past, who your husband and daughter were. When the man turned, his serious face turned to one of shock, just like yours. Gwen was the one to noticed both you and Miguel staring at each other, then she had an idea. "I...um.. I'm going to show Miles around a bit" she excused, then took Miles by the arm, guiding him out and Hobie followed them.

Miguel approached you slowly, seen every inch of you, wanting to see if it was you, his wife, not his particular wife, but you were her. After a bit of staring, he spoke. "You're not my wife.." he said, sadly, then you responded. "You're not my husband.." you said, with tears forming in your eyes. Miguel wanted to hold you in his arm so bad, comfort you and tell you how much he missed you, but he didn't.

You sigh, wiping off your tears. "So... you're spider man.." you said, there was a bit of an awkward silence, then he spoke. "And you're spider woman.." he said, as he reached over and placing a pieced of your hair behind your ear. You couldn't help but ask. "Gabriella... how is she..?" you asked, Miguel almost flinched violently by the question. "She's... gone.." he said, sounding very defeated by his response. You swallowed the lump that had built up on your throat. "You too?" you asked, this time tears had spilled from your eyes.

This made Miguel look at you, he got the memo that Gabriella was also gone in your universe. It hurt, seen that in both his and yours universe your daughter was gone. He sighed, seen that you had began to cry, it was obvious that you had not got over his and Gabriella's death like he was. He come over yours and his daughter's death, it took him a while but eventually he understood that no matter what he did, he could never bring you or his daughter back, but he couldn't help but miss the both of you. It was understandable, you were a wife and a mother, who lost both her husband and first baby. And he was a husband and a father that went through the same thing as you. Then he just went for it.

Miguel then pulled you into a tight hug, you didn't hesitate to hug him back. You buried your face onto his chest, crying, letting out all your sadness. You hugged him tightly was your so called Husband rubbed your back comfortingly. Being in his arms, felt like an eternity, you had forgot the last time you were held by him like this. You began to remember the first time you met, it was raining outside one night, and you had forgot to get an umbrella, then you came across Miguel, who was walking somewhere, who knows, but he saw how drenched you were and had offered you his umbrella. You didn't want to take it since you didn't want him to get soaked, but he insisted until you took it. Then he left, that kind gesture meant a lot. Afterwards you had made it your mission to find him and return his umbrella, it was weeks but you finally manage to find him again, in another rainy day, then the rest was history.

Rainy days had become significant to you an Miguel, since you both met on a rainy day. Every time it would rain, you and your husband would go outside to enjoy the rain, not caring that you both would get sick the next day, it was worth it, if it meant being sick together. Then Gabriella came in, she too would also come with you and Miguel out in the rain. "It's okay Mi amor" he said sweetly, but also sadly. You cried more, it's been years since you've been called that by your husband, he wasn't technically your husband, but he was. No matter what universe you were from, you and Miguel would be husband and wife. And Gabriella your daughter, you'd like to think that maybe in a different universe, you were all alive and living a happy life together.

ₙₑₓₜ ₚₐᵣₜ

[sanctum-of-ramshackle]

🔪🪓 GIVE IT UP FOR I.N.K.!🩸🎤

[TWST AU]: This MC/Yuu/[Reader] may have more than just fairytale magic.

[Synopsis]: In this timeline, MC/Yuu/[Reader] returns back from the “dead” and is ready to unleash their horror-based magic. Also to understand that they were resting for about 30 years.

[Gender Neutral!MC/Yuu/[Reader]]

[TW]: Mentions of murder, blood and horror movie depictions of violence.

[(A/N)]: Hi everyone. It’s been a while since I last posted any content here. Things got busy IRL and also put up some content on my main blog. I’m sorry I didn’t warn anyone about my sudden break. Anywho, I wrote another MC/Yuu variant twisted from Ice Nine Kills (the vibe of the band).

To begin this journey, there is a hidden grave deep in the forest behind Night Raven College. Nobody has visited that very spot as their families have either passed or moved far away.

The etchings of the tombstone reads…

“Here Lies [Y/N]/MC/Yuu [L/N]”

“You Left Too Soon”

“Therefore If A Miracle Happens, Doom Will Be In Tune”

Then one night as the Dorm Sorting Ceremony, a storm occurs with lightning striking down.

Then, a strike hits the unbothered grave, electrocuting the fencing that protected the grave from trespasser and the ground shakes as a resurrection happens.

[The ground cracks open as a coffin unveils its lid and reveals a well-preserved corpse.]

I.N.K.!MC/Yuu/[Reader]: *Yawns from their supposed eternal slumber* That was a long nap…Why am I in a coffin?

[The living corpse leaves their disturbed burial and walks aimlessly out of the forest, unintentionally leading themselves to the NRC building.]

I.N.K.!MC/Yuu/[Reader]: I don’t remember much, but this place…

[Then a voice boomed across the hall to grab MC/Yuu’s attention.]

Crowley: *From afar* You! Why are not at the ceremony?

I.N.K.!MC/Yuu/[Reader]: I beg your pardon.

Crowley: *Closing the distance between him and MC/Yuu* I asked what…are…you… *Stops dead at his tracks* You…How?

I.N.K.!MC/Yuu: Old man, I don’t know what kind of ceremony is happening but I remember now. I’m already an NRC student.

[And so, after the ceremony ended, Crowley gathered the Staff members and explained they have a student returned from the dead. They weren’t pleased by this sudden information. In the meantime, MC/Yuu will have to start NRC again as a first year student and they were transferred to the infamous Ramshackle Dormitory.]

🪓🎶🔪🎵🩸🎼🪓🎶🔪🎵🩸🎼🪓🎶🔪🎵🩸🎼🪓🎶🔪🎵🩸🎼🪓🎶🔪🎵🩸🎼🪓🎶🔪🎵🩸🎼

[At the Heartslabyul]

[MC/Yuu was invited by Cater as they joined back the Music Club and the MagiCam influencer thought they were cool.]

Cater: You got a new phone? Need help with anything?

I.N.K.!MC/Yuu/[Reader]: I still need help with the apps. How do you find movies on this thing?

Cater: I can teach you.

[Few Minutes Later]

I.N.K.!MC/Yuu: Whoa! You guys released new horror films? It’s been years since I watched one. The last one I seen was some hockey-masked killer.

Cater: *Little concerned* MC/Yuu, when did you stop attending NRC?

I.N.K.!MC/Yuu: Oh. Well…I guess around 30 years ago? Why asking, suddenly?

Cater: That explains why you asked what MagiCam is.

🪓🎶🔪🎵🩸🎼🪓🎶🔪🎵🩸🎼🪓🎶🔪🎵🩸🎼🪓🎶🔪🎵🩸🎼🪓🎶🔪🎵🩸🎼🪓🎶🔪🎵🩸🎼

[During a Dorm Leader meeting]

Riddle: You’re explaining you used to attend Night Raven College 30 years ago?

I.N.K.!MC/Yuu: Yeah, I used to be the president of the Music Club and still well versed in the darker side of magic.

Azul: What kind of magic you possess?

I.N.K.!MC/Yuu: The kind if you can stomach the macabre world. The goriest parts of that field.

Vil: Necromancy, I presumed?

I.N.K.!MC/Yuu: Sort of. It’s hard to explain about my magic, but all I know is it gets stronger when I perform music.

Kalim: Like it’s your Unique Magic.

I.N.K.!MC/Yuu: Yeah, like that. Crazy how today’s people are using that term.

Leona: Still odd how you came back to life. You remember your old life?

I.N.K.!MC/Yuu: I remember my family used to live on this island and the accident that happened in this school…

🪓🎶🔪🎵🩸🎼🪓🎶🔪🎵🩸🎼🪓🎶🔪🎵🩸🎼🪓🎶🔪🎵🩸🎼🪓🎶🔪🎵🩸🎼🪓🎶🔪🎵🩸🎼

[Chapter 5: During the VDC event and Vil’s Overblot]

[Ice Nine Kills - Welcome To Horrorwood]

Epel: We need to distract Vil-Senpai.

I.N.K.!MC/Yuu: Allow me. I know the perfect song.

[Then the stage is set for MC/Yuu’s performance. They magically summoned a dark dome to cover the entire stadium for the light effects and manifest some pseudo band mates to play the appropriate instruments. Finally, they summoned their cursed electric guitar to fend off the latest Blot battle.]

I.N.K.!MC/Yuu: *Starts singing*

Ink fills the page

A classic killer completes the cast

If evil's all the rage

Cut to the close up, then fade to black

Sit back for the sequel of your dreams

All psychos crave more shocking scenes

Who cares if it bleeds beyond the screen?

Are you misunderstood?

Are you more bad than good?

Welcome to Horrorwood

Where anyone would kill for a call back!

[They casted some powerful spells to weaken Overblot!Vil. The rest of the gang starts throwing their spells at the corrupted Head of Pomefiore.]

'Cause everyone is just so fucking…

Desperate for fame

Can't blame the savages this town attracts

I guess we're all insane (Insane!)

So silence the critics, 'cause this is not an act

(But here's the soundtrack!)

Sit back for the sequel of your dreams

All psychos crave more shocking scenes

Who cares if it bleeds beyond the screen?

Are you misunderstood? (YEAH!)

Are you more bad than good?

Welcome to Horrorwood

Where anyone would kill for a call back

The tabloids say

"There goes the neighborhood"

But long live Horrorwood

The only place it pays to be a hack!

(But will you make the cut if you know?)

Stardom's just an afterthought

For all those stabbed in the backlot

Piled up and left to rot

“So how's this for an establishing shot?”

[MC/Yuu shoots another fire spell at Overblot!Vil.]

Are you misunderstood? (YEAH!)

Are you more bad than good?

Welcome to Horrorwood

Where anyone would kill for a call back

The tabloids say

"There goes the neighborhood"

But long live Horrorwood

The only place where everyone should

Fear the premiere

There's always a target out on the red carpet

Between 'Silver Screams' something's awakened

And you'll never make it

But enjoy the show!

[They perform an impressive solo-guitar play as they summoned restraints to trap the weakened Overblot!Vil in one place.]

Are you misunderstood? (YEAH!)

Are you more bad than good?

Welcome to Horrorwood

Where anyone would kill for a call back

The tabloids say

"There goes the neighborhood"

But long live Horrorwood

The only place it pays to be a hack

Be a hack!

Welcome back!

[After the song finishes, MC/Yuu holds up their guitar and brutally swings it at Overblot!Vil to dislodge the Blot stone.]

Vil: *Turns back to normal and groans* What happened?

I.N.K.!MC/Yuu: You kind of went berserk and we had stop you from almost killing everyone.

Vil: I see. My head is aching, however.

I.N.K.!MC/Yuu: Uhhh…You probably hit your head during VDC.

🪓🎶🔪🎵🩸🎼🪓🎶🔪🎵🩸🎼🪓🎶🔪🎵🩸🎼🪓🎶🔪🎵🩸🎼🪓🎶🔪🎵🩸🎼🪓🎶🔪🎵🩸🎼

[Back in Crowley’s Office]

Crowley: *Shaken up by day one* I couldn’t believe they’re back…

“Dire, you wanna hang out today?”

“Dire, you forgot the assignment? Fine, just copy mine but change it up a bit.”

“Dire…You’ll regret the day I resurrect from my slumber. Heed my warning!”

???: CROWLEY!

Crowley: *Spooked by the outburst* IT’S NOT MY FAULT!!!

Crewel: Great Seven, you seemed out of your mind lately.

Crowley: Oh, I’m extremely busy, especially since their return.

Crewel: Oh yeah. They seem to be doing well with academics despite having to teach them newer materials. Their magic is what I fear about them.

Crowley: Yes, yes. Their magic hasn’t changed much.

Crewel: Dire, I heard that.

Crowley: It’s nothing. I’m just worried about the students.

Crewel: Uh huh. I’ll leave my reports here. *Leaves the office*

Crowley: *Suddenly scared* What if they remember that day?

🪓🎶🔪🎵🩸🎼🪓🎶🔪🎵🩸🎼🪓🎶🔪🎵🩸🎼🪓🎶🔪🎵🩸🎼🪓🎶🔪🎵🩸🎼🪓🎶🔪🎵🩸🎼

[Cafeteria]

Ace: You murdered someone?!

I.N.K.!MC/Yuu: I didn’t murder anyone.

Sebek: Then what is this?! *Points at the crimson stain on their shirt*

I.N.K.!MC/Yuu: *Wipes it off and taste the content* Oh, ground beef. I was helping Jade and Floyd with some hamburger orders.

Jack: And you just licked it? Won’t you get sick?

I.N.K.!MC/Yuu: I’m undead. Nothing’s gonna harm me, again. *Bites into their extremely rare steak as some myoglobin leaks down from their lips*

[The First Year group felt fear of their new friend.]

✨[Reblogs helps creators and creates for more content]💫

[viaoverthemoon]

Behind Closed Doors

Thank y'all for all the votes!

Let me know if you all would like more, in which I can possibly post it in parts on here!

Leon Kennedy x Fem!Reader (Medieval Universe)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Summary: Your family's kingdom is under attack and Leon's family offers protection. Everyone thinks this is your first time seeing Leon ever since your betrothal. If only they knew...

Tw: MEDIEVAL TIMELINE AND SPEECH, some characters not from the RE-verse/they will be in later parts if y'all want it, mention of battle and injury (not detailed), fluff, SMUT, but it's kinda soft, p in v sex, unprotected sex, virginity loss, minor description of pain, fingering, orgasm denial(?), sorry the smut is long as hell, BUT ITS WORTH IT PROMISE, Sudden ending

18+!! NSFW!! MDNI!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!!

Enjoy! <3

☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.

The nature of the Kingdom of Duevaula is certainly not what you were expecting it to be.

People spoke of the lands as though it were surrounded by fires, commoners walking around subdued by chains are constantly guarded by cruel soldiers.

Instead, healthy trees grow far and wide around the kingdom, children running in the streets laughing as older kids chase them with no malice. Soldiers patrol the area, but most of them look carefree, conversating with locals and playing with the children.

"Sister? Are you alright?"

The voice of your sister pulls you from your thoughts, eyes drifting to the 12-year-old at your side as she places a hand on yours. "Yes, Nara Vella. I'm fine."

Of course, she sees right through you. "Are you certain? I know the events that took place at home may have been-"

"Nara... That is enough. Thank you for asking, but I am fine."

Nara Vella scrunches her nose, about to say more but the carriage comes to a stop and a trumpet blares.

"We're here."

You listen as The Herald announces your parents, the king and queen of The Kingdom of Islandia, but your heart can't stop pounding.

You and your sister rise just before your carriage door opens. Since you are the first born, your name is announced first.

"Announcing the firstborn Princess of The Kingdom of Islandia, (Y/N) (L/N)."

You stop out of the carriage accepting the footman's outstretched hand. All eyes are on you as your navy-blue skirts brush against the concrete, but your eyes are on one person alone.

Your sister is announced behind you, and you step forward to the man infront of you.

You drop into a curtsy. "Your highness."

He bows deeply. "My lady."

Your eyes meet his, the light of a secret hidden in your gazes. He offers an arm, and you accept it, walking with him behind both of your parents.

Prince Leon.

You were betrothed to him at the age of 6, back when your kingdoms were butting heads, resulting in a feud, and needed a way to end the hostility between them. 13 years later, everyone thinks this is the first time you've seen each other since. But it isn't.

Leon had first sent you a private letter when you were 13 years old, requesting your presence at a hidden lake that rested in the middle of your parents' territories. Your heart had raced, excited for a new adventure in life, and you immediately rushed to meet him there.

You've been seeing each other there for years, playing in the waters, having picnics in the soft grass, feeding each other strawberries and chocolates, and reading in silence. Just enjoying each other's presence.

You shared tiny kisses at the lake a few times, but never went any farther in fear of what could happen if anyone found out you'd lost your purity.

You smile at him and lower your voice. "It's been too long since I last saw you, your highness."

He hums, placing his hand on top of yours. You both know it's only been 2 weeks, but who's counting? "Yes, my lady. Far too long. I was beginning to forget the feeling of your soft lips against mine..." He lowered his head, brushing his lips against your ear. "Perhaps, when we are alone, you could remind me?"

☆

Hours later, you and your family sit in the dining room with the Kennedys. All parents, along with Leon, had been locked away in the war room for hours, discussing ways to save the Kingdom of Islandia after it was attacked by another kingdom that sought revenge against your father, the king.

You'd all barely escaped with your lives, most being unscathed, but you, your mother, and your personal guard Jill, hadn't recovered from a couple injuries. Your sister brings up this fact during dinner.

"If it wasn't for (Y/N), I would've been walking around with one leg instead of two!" She dramatically waves her hands around as you try to shush her, your cheeks turning red with embarrassment.

"Nara Vella! Mind yourself! We do not speak of those events at the dinner table!"

She merely giggles, whispering an apology before returning to her plate. You sigh, about to turn back to your own food, but you feel a pair of eyes on you.

You glance at Leon from across the table through your peripheral, noticing his frown.

'Are you alright?' He mouths. You smile reassuringly and nod, raising a brow and offering a teasing smile.

'Worried about me, your highness?'

He only rolls his eyes, seemingly looking at his plate but peeking up at you through his lashes. 'Always, my lady.'

☆

You sit in your chambers after dinner, trying to sew a tear in the dress you'd worn on that fateful night.

It had been washed and dried, but it suffered damage from sword and arrow grazes. And you couldn't just let it be ruined. It's one of your favorites, a gift from your mother when you finally came of age.

It held far too many memories.

A soft knock comes from your door and, suspecting it was your sister, you call to it. "Enter."

You become frustrated with the sew, accidentally pricking your finger with the needle. You curse, yanking your hand away and to your mouth.

Admittingly, the stitch is not the only thing that has you frustrated.

After the feast, you'd tried to get Leon's attention so the two of you could find a moment alone. But he was instantly pulled away by his father, who began to speak of kingly duties and war experience.

You knew that talk would take a while.

"Nara Vella, I am truly not in the mood right now. This damn stitch is going to be the death of-"

"Is this how you speak when I am not around?"

You yelp, spinning around and dropping your materials.

Leon, your betrothed, leans against your chamber doors.

He smirks at you, approaching you at a slow pace.

"How did you- I thought your father would have you occupied for a while..." You stand, wringing your hands and shifting nervously, trying not to pay any mind to his predatory gaze. He offers a teasing smirk.

"I have my ways," He steps into your space, his chest nearly touching yours, and lifts a hand. You immediately relax, nuzzling your cheek into the palm of his hand.

He hums and you sigh, relishing in the presence of one another. "You're certain? That you are not hurt?"

You sigh, placing your hand on top of his. "Yes, Leon. I really am fine."

You feel him let out an exhale, his shoulders dropping in relief. "Good. Because if anyone left lasting damage on you, I'd take the throne right now and declare-"

You smack his chest, glaring up at him. "Leon! You will not declare war on a kingdom any time soon!"

He only throws his head back and laughs, caressing your cheek with his thumb. "Alright! Relax, my lady. I only jest..." You huff a breath through your nose, staring at his deep blue eyes and wide smile.

These were the moments you truly missed.

While the both of you tried to keep visitations strictly scheduled for once a month, it was pure torture to be away from him that long.

You inhale his air, a deep, husky scent of forest mixed with wildfire.

"I have prayed and waited every night to be in your arms again. I had never known this would be the reason why..." Your other hand grasps his shirt, holding onto him so tightly one would think he might disappear.

"Dreadful circumstance or not, I finally get to see your face again..." Leon raises your chin, your eyes shifting between his eyes and his lips. "And you, finally get to remind me of your taste..."

You could swear sparks fly when your lips meet.

Hot, searing passion colliding to create a love that is hidden behind closed doors. His fingers comb through your hair, your fingernails scratch against his loose sleeve shirt.

His tongue brushes against your lips and your heart leaps, your lips instinctively opening. A gasp comes from those parted lips. Your back arches and Leon chases you, hand lowering to grip the silk material of your robes.

He parts from you all too soon, dipping his head and placing wet kisses along your neck. A moan escapes your lips and the both of you freeze, a pause filled with red hot tension.

Your nails dig into his shoulder, breaths coming out in short, quick gaps. "Perhaps-... Perhaps we should stop..."

"We should..."

And yet, no one moves.

You swallow, throat feeling tight. "If my mother-... If our families ever found out about this-"

His head leaves the crook of your neck, eyes gazing down at you with powerful determination. "They won't."

Your breathing shakes. "But- When that time comes-"

His hands grab your cheeks, forcing you to look up at him. "They. Won't." His thumb strokes your bottom lip, blue eyes burning. "Do you trust me?"

Your answer is immediate. "Of course."

His lips twitch. "Good. Then know, that they will never know. And we will never be separated."

His confidence brings forth your own.

You know this decision is a big one. A lady handing a man her virtue is something that with bind her to him forever.

And while you hate the hold that purity has on the ways of society... You know Leon is the only man you would ever give yourself to.

Your eyes widen, a desperate gleam shining in them. "Take me, Leon."

☆

Your naked body shines in the moonlight, every curve and crevice on display for him, and him alone.

Leon stands at the foot of your bed, staring down at you with hazy, lust filled eyes.

You'd both stripped each other of their clothes in record time, a cluster of rushing hands and pitiful whines. You try not to stare at his... rather intimidating manhood, that stands tall and hard as rock. Albeit, he stares at you without shame.

His eyes rake over every inch over your body, starting at your ankles. Then moving to your legs, then your hips, your stomach, breasts, lips and finally your eyes. His bright blue oceans of eyes had turned into a deep dark sea, leaving you panting and burning.

You open your arms, reaching for him. "Well? Do not stand there and stare..." You somehow keep your voice steady, the whimper in your throat begging to be released.

He smirks, jerking himself a few times, before placing his hands on the bed and crawling toward you.

You hesitate, and then spread your legs. He settles between them, hot palms landing on your thighs and causing the skin to be set ablaze.

Your heart pounds in your ears, breathing turning heavy and legs shaking.

You're afraid. Excited! But afraid.

Many of the older ladies had said that their firsts were blissful, yet excruciatingly painful. But others said it was not as bad as it seems.

This left you with uncertainty, gooseflesh rising on your arms as you try your best to keep your emotions at bay.

But of course, Leon reads you like an open book.

He caresses the soft skin of your thighs, thumbs moving in small, calming circles. "You have nothing to fear, (Y/N)." He leans down, running his nose over your cheek. "Of course, I would never do anything to hurt you. It is never too late to stop-"

He barely gets the words out before your hands harshly grip his biceps. "No! I mean- um... I want this, Leon. More than anything." Your grip relaxes and you offer a reassuring smile.

He smiles back at you.

The heavy atmosphere returns when he leans down again, lips skimming your throat as his length nudges your sensitive ball of nerves.

You nearly jump out of your skin; a sharp gasp leaves you.

Leon feels your nervousness, and, luckily, knows just the cure.

A hand creeps down your body, getting lower... lower...

Until rough, calloused fingers slip between your folds.

A loud moan is quickly cut off by his lips.

Hopefully your guards aren't paying too close attention to your chambers...

Your knees bend, eyes clenching shut as Leon swallows all of your noises. His fingers work slow circles of pleasure into your clit, the sensation one you've never felt before.

Much like getting too close to a hot fire in the blazing cold of a harsh winter, it warms your insides and leaves your outside wanting more.

You throw your head back, the back of your fist flying to your mouth as you try to hold back the sounds your throat nearly let's burst out.

"Hah... Leon-..."

His name rolls from your tongue as a soft whisper, words stuttering off into a sharp inhale as his fingers graze over your soaking hole.

Your other hand grips the soft sheets, body giving in as he completely takes control. Your eyes lock with his.

He's deep in concentration, breathing shallow and sweat matting his blonde hair to his forehead.

Gaze lowering, you see the angry red color of his girth. It throbs, begging for attention while trying its hardest to sit still and look pretty.

"Nuh-uh. Eyes up here, princess." Your glossy eyes snap back to his, mouth slightly agape and brows pulled together. Leon smirks, pleased with your expression. "You can make that up to me later. But this moment, is for you."

His other hand gently removes your hand from your lips, soft sighs coated in ecstasy falling from them immediately.

The pressure builds as you roll your hips to meet his fingers. He slowly slides a finger into you, watching your expression as it shifts. He keeps another finger working on your nerves, so the one inside only adds to the pleasure.

You cry out when he adds a second one, now feeling a slight sense of discomfort, but still pleasure. He nuzzles his nose into your neck, mumbling praises. You're surprised by the sound of his voice, slurring slightly as if he'd indulged in a tin of ale.

"Good job, princess... Doing such a good- hngh~... Does that- feel good, my lady?"

Your body seems to like the sound of Leon, if the new wave of slick was anything to go by.

You feel the knot in your lower stomach tighten, your moans raising in volume as your back arches. You feel something coming. Not sure what it is, but your legs begin to shake. You wait in anticipation, every thought focused on the new stage of euphoria this feeling was going to bring... until Leon completely pulled away his hand.

You gasp, eyes snapping open. Your body falls limp as you catch your breath. "Wha-... Why-"

"I hope you do not mind if I become a little selfish, my lady..."

Your eyes snap to him, sitting up on your elbows and ready to reprimand him for denying you of your bliss, but your words are blown away.

Leon sits up on his knees, manhood curved upward in his hand as he strokes the length. Wet, sticky liquid leaks from the red tip, veins protruding from every angle.

Your air is taken away, leaving only enough to let out a sharp exhale.

"But... I want you coming undone only on my cock."

You eye him, switching between his eyes and his... cock, before nodding slowly. "Okay... Okay, Leon."

He leans down again, pressing wet kisses on your neck and cheeks, as his length glides between your folds. "I will not move until you're ready..." And then, he begins pushing himself inside.

Your nails dig into his shoulders with a gasp. His hand grips the pillows as he grunts. Both of you release soft noises of pain, holding onto each other as he continues to slowly enter you.

You hold back a scream when he finally bottoms out, doing your best to relax as to not hurt him anymore. You feel his soft kisses on your face as he apologizes continuously, hand roaming the skin of your waist as the other rubs circles into your clit again.

After what feels like forever, the pain slowly subsides and makes room for pleasure. Your grip on his shoulders loosens. You instead put them around his neck, digging your hands into his hair. "I'm ready, Leon... You can move-"

His hips snap against yours without warning.

You cry out, clinging to him as he begins to thrust into you at an animalistic rate. He grunts with every thrust, caging your body in as he loses himself.

"I have waited so long-. Please, please forgive me, sweet angel-"

Heavy panting and the smell of sex fills the air, the sound of skin meeting skin resounding within the room. Your moans and pleas do nothing to teeter the wild and rough movements of Leon's hips. He growls into your neck, holding your hips to keep you from getting away.

The knot is seconds away from snapping, but it feels stronger than it was before. Different even... Almost like you need to run to the pot. You feel overwhelmed, pushing at Leon's shoulders. "I can- I can't! It's too much- Ah! Leon-!"

The band snaps.

You scream, toes curling and back arching.

Your body pushes out a wave of liquid, most likely soiling your sheets. The feeling burns you inside and out, tensing all of your muscles and leaving you weak and trembling. You pant heavily, body still jerking from Leon roughly thrusting into you.

The after-bliss you'd once felt begins to feel uncomfortable. Overstimulated, you claw at his biceps in hopes of getting his attention.

He groans when he hears you whine. "Almost- Almost there-"

His thrusts get sloppy, his cock hitting somewhere so deep that it somehow prolongs the burn. You bite his collarbone to keep from screaming again.

It would seem that was his final push, as he pushes deep inside of you, releasing a low, husky groan and throwing his head back.

You watch as his entire body shudders, his grip on your hips tightening so much you're sure you'll have bruises in the morning.

A warm rush of liquid flows into you, seeming to be a never-ending flow as Leon falls limp, landing right beside you.

You'll definitely have to bribe your guards in the morning.

☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.

Whoops!

Sorry for ending it like that! If you guys want this to have more, let me know! I'll pick it up from here!

Let me know what you think!

Hope you enjoyed! <3

Chapter 2 Chapter 3