#I just need them to be happy after everything

[littelovelunette]

sevika and reader with babies/children?

through the power of the hexstrap (or adoption) sevika and reader have kids and fluff ensues

thank you🫶

Sevika's Little One (2)

Even though the childbirth wasn't exactly thought through and planned, you and Sevika still vowed to love her every step of the way no matter how hard life got.

You were in the delivery room, panting heavily after you'd given birth.

You felt a little light headed due to the loss of blood but the thought of holding your baby girl was enough for you to fight to stay awake.

“She's a beautiful, healthy girl.” The nurse said and handed her to you. You saw her, the tiny red face all scrunched up trying to adjust to the lighting of the hospital room, fists clenched tight in the towel she was in.

“O-oh, hi…” you said weakly, “She's so… she's so beautiful.” You said, trying not to sob in happiness but you couldn't help it.

Sevika was next to you, even though she had tears in her eyes although she refused to acknowledge it.

“What do you want to name her?” Sevika asked, her voice a little shaky, as you passed her to Sevika's arms.

She was careful, holding her in such a way that her flesh arm was in contact with her little bundled up body, instead of her mechanical arm. “She looks like me.” Sevika said, voice weak as she watched the little baby in her arms intently.

“Heather.” You suddenly said, “Let's name her Heather.”

Sevika, not really paying attention, because she was still locked in her baby's trance, took a minute to respond. “Heather… it's soft. Like her.”

“Mhm, that's why it's perfect.” You said with a little giggle. Heather, it would be. Your daughter's name.

A symbol that you and Sevika were a married couple, a little sign of your love for each other.

Sevika was extremely careful with the child and although her one hand was big enough to hold the baby without having to use her mechanical hand, she still preferred the baby stayed in your arms.

It was a little sad, Sevika thought her own baby wasn't safe in her arms but slowly the tension began to loosen and one day, when you woke up, Heather wasn't in her crib.

You were instantly in a panic but then you saw it— Sevika walking around with Heather in her arms, holding the baby up, showing her around the house and introducing her to everything with a baby voice you've never heard before from Sevika's mouth.

“And this is the kitchen, where I'm gonna be cooking for a while.” Sevika said to Heather who's big grey eyes were gazing around curiously, “Because mama needs rest, mhm?”

You leaned against the doorway, watching her bond with Heather. “You cooking, hmmm? Well, I guess I can expect to be poisoned first thing in the morning then.” You joked.

Sevika rolled her eyes, “I cook just fine.” Sevika held Heather close to herself, “Look at her.” She said holding the baby side by side to her own face, “She looks like a complete copy of mine!” There was more shock than awe in her voice that made you laugh.

“I think it's evident.” You walked upto the pair of them, taking Heather in your arms, “But she has my lips.”

“Uh-huh?”

“Yeah, they're not asymmetrical.” You said as you held the baby up, smiling at the little face that seemed so shocked to be there. “I wonder what her first words will be.”

“When's her feeding time?” Sevika asked.

“In an hour.” You replied, sitting down at the dining chair, cradling Heather.

“Want breakfast?” Sevika asked and you nodded, “Only if you wear the apron.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Pretty please? For Heather?”

Sevika huffed a sigh, picking the pink frilly apron from the counter and wearing it silently. You had to choke back a laugh at the sight. The big mighty Sevika dressed in a frilly pink apron was a sight to behold.

“Look, Heather!” You said and pointed to Sevika. Heather's big eyes looked around and locked on Sevika's face, a very toothless grin appearing on her lips.

“Oh, she's a gremlin.” Sevika said in an uninterested voice as she prepared the batter to make you some pancakes.

“You weren't saying that back when I gave birth.” You muttered before looking at Heather who was outstretching her small hand up as if wanting to go to Sevika. “Looks like Heather already has a favourite parent.” You laughed and got up, walking to where Sevika was, with Heather in your arms.

Sevika glanced up, smirking slightly. “Oh yeah?”

After breakfast and feeding Heather, you were already tired for the day. Sevika was fawning over Heather as per the usual, dolling her up and saying the same thing every now and then, “I can't believe she's our daughter.”

“Sevika?” You called and she hummed looking up.

“She looks exactly like you, save for the lips, right?”

“Mhm…?”

“You were this cute as a kid? Awwww!”

Sevika flushed a dark shade of red, using Heather's body to hide her face. “I hate you.” She mumbled against Heather's back making Heather give another wide not so toothy grin. They were all you needed.

[vmlnrzmp4]

𝘱𝘢𝘱𝘢'𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘰𝘯.

—when their daughter's event is coming up but they can't attend :(

itoshi sae

natsuki has been preparing for the piano contest for months only for sae to leave to another country at the last moment. when she was practicing alone, you could see her shaking, her little fingers couldn't press on the keys fully. you had to phone call sae because natsuki was so so nervous. she told how she missed her papa to which sae just sternly tells her to stop wasting time then. if she's that nervous then all her hardwork of months would go to waste. and tho his words were harsh, natsuki knew he was right. she could handle criticism just fine. she tells how much she misses him and he tells her he misses her more. during the contest, all of natsuki's hardwork made her win and without a doubt, sae took all the credit for her victory.

itoshi rin

sakura was so scared. whenever she did commercials, she had her own manager aka her papa always with her. so the school play was nothing right? wrong. and even tho you were there with her, she couldn't help but feel sad looking at the empty space beside you. after the rehearsal, sakura immediately ran to you, her little arms hugging your waist. you quickly took out your phone and called rin. rin asked her what's wrong. if anyone's forcing her. if anyone's criticizing her. if anyone's doubting her acting skills. and who he needs to fight. but it was sakura who was doubting herself. rin talked to her, promising to be there for her future acts, telling you to make sure to record everything with the expensive camera he bought.

isagi yoichi

yuki had her math competition coming up but ofcourse her papa had to be away. the night before the competition. yuki was studying so hard, and when you got her dinner, she dismissed you, focusing on the equations infront of her. you were left with no choice but call her papa. he was the best, encouraging her cheerfully, "youve got this kid! you've been working so hard. and im proud of you. ma's proud of you! everyone is! but skipping dinner won't do, will it?" and ofcourse, she listened to her papa. and the next day, she happily jumped into your arms, urging you to call her papa. and boy he was so so sooooo happy.

michael kaiser

anne gripped the painting brush so tightly. she was practicing. her sketch was messier and she accidentally mixed the wrong colours. when she spoke with her papa over phone and ranted about how she thinks her painting looks ugly, he exhaled, making sure to critisize her without making her feel sad. "practice. got it? you're my little artist, and i know you'd do well." "but papa—" "anne." his tone was firm, "listen to me. you didn't spend your precious time and hardwork to be like this. all i can do is guide you, buy you paints, brushes, canvases, everything you want. but you have to stand up on your own feet. your papa isn't always going to be there for you, you hear me?" like natsuki, anne would also take criticism well. and when the results came in and she took the first prize, her papa was so so proud that even he won the soccer match, as both of them showed their achievements with a smirk. like dad like daughter.

taglist: @anuverse @luciddre @kongkhoi @illyriakrasniqi2007 @passw-0-rd @x3nafix @levihanmyotp @vellichorira @sapph1r3x @tamashithe2nd [open]

[gay-dorito-dust]

Never mind I had one more in the tank.

‘Who’s you’re favourite person?’ Sam asked once.

‘Joaquin.’ You replied without hesitation.

Sam’s brow quirks upwards as a amused smile crept on his face, the same face that you and Joaquin had teased him constantly that made him look as though he knew something about you both, he didn’t understand the joke but that only made it funnier for you and Joaquin. ‘Why?’ He said.

You shrugged. ‘Why not. He’s my favourite person because when I’m with him I can be myself, I can be a little silly and not feel bad about it. I can be stupid and instead of laughing at me, Joaquin is laughing with me.’ You smiled to yourself when you remembered how you tripped over thin air, only for Joaquin to catch you as he tells you to be careful, only for him to trip over his own feet seconds later which lead to the pair of you laughing at the irony of the moment; To you that was the beauty of Joaquin Torres.

‘Joaquin is someone who I can go to in conference, knowing he’ll always have my back, offer wise sage like advice even when it’s like three in the morning and we’re both half out of our minds. As long as I know k have Joaquin in my corner, then I can take on anything and everything for he’s my friend, my other half, my person whom I can’t live without as I don’t want to ever think of having to live without him anymore.’ You continued as you remembered how often you spent in his room more then your own at this point, always feeling that warmth within your chest whenever you saw him after mission and how happy you were to see him come back from his without so much as some minor bruises and cuts.

You remembered how often you’d find yourself tucked protectively within his embrace after movie nights and how you’d give just about anything just to stay like this within his arms forever, protected and protecting him when you found his head on your chest on the rare occasion where he needed your comfort, never once withholding it from him as he was more then deserving of anything and everything. You couldn’t help but swoon when you remembered the nights where you both would go to the roof of the compound to watch the stars, only to find yourself looking at them as they visited within his eyes, the man was beautiful and he knew it and you weren’t one to let him forgot it either.

‘He’s my favourite person because he’s authentically himself, never giving up his true self just to fit in with the rest and I admire him for doing so. He’s my person because without him I’ve got nothing, he’s my person because he makes life brighter and more worthwhile and worth running the risk for and I can’t thank him enough for being my person.’ You finished telling Sam, who had been looking over your shoulder the entire time, which made you furrow your brows as you looked to see what had caught his attention, only to see that Joaquin was stood in the doorway behind you with his arms crossed over his chest; smiling.

‘He’s asked you the same thing huh?’ He says with a playful air to his voice, but his eyes held a sense of sincerity as he pushed himself away to move to your side, leaving your feeling a rush of warmth wash over you from the close proximity when he moves his head so it was near your ear. ‘But I’m glad to hear that I’m your favourite person, the feelings more than reciprocated my love.’ He whispered before pressing a kiss to your forehead tenderly, making you lean into his touch and smiling stupidly, but that was the effect he had over you without having to try though that’s what you loved most about him.

[dementedkittenribbon]

In love with my best friend

Rafe Cameron x fem reader

Rafe finally asks you out.

CW: Panty stealing, oral male recieving, PnV sex!! (Female is just aesthetic purposes!!!!!!)

“Mmm, Rafe. This is delicious. What do I owe the pleasure?” Rafe had to keep himself from drooling as you licked the ice cream cone. Your heels clicked on the sidewalk as he walked you to his car.

Your cropped shirt hugged your waist as you waited for him to open the passenger door. Rafe waited until you were situated inside before shutting the door. He wanted you to be happy today. After getting all that money, you were the first person he thought of. He wanted to spoil you. His best friend since middle school.

As he drove, you had your legs crossed as you hummed happily. Savoring each taste of ice cream as you listened to lil peep. Rafe wanted to ask you now but he kept losing his nerve.

“So, what’s the deal with uh-Caleb or whatever?” He asked instead and you glanced at him. Your lipgloss slightly mused.

“Colin? Oh, it wasn’t meant to be.” You giggled and flicked your hair out of your eyes. Rafe snorted and let his face fall on your chest for a few seconds.

“Think you can fit in a movie with your schedule?” Rafe gave you a playful elbow and you pouted.

“What’s wrong, Rafe? Are you jealous of all the time I’ve been spending with other people? And not you since you’re rich again?”

He flexed his jaw, used to your bratty remarks but that specific time hit a nerve. Yeah, he was jealous. Jealous of anyone who got to have you or be near you.

He was addicted to you. The way you moved, smelled, talked…everything.

Rafe had collection of panties in his room, all yours when he knew you wouldn’t miss them. His cock was familiar with the lace of them.

“Doll, you’re the only one who gets spoiled by me.” He saw your lips curl into a smirk and naturally, he rested a hand on your thigh.

Rafe tested your reaction, leaving his palm on the meat of your leg. But you didn’t pay attention, as if you were used to such physical displays. That made him feel even more jealous. You being so used to intimate touches that you didn’t even spare him a glance?

His grip tightened ever so slightly as he drove home. Rafe didn’t wait for your answer about the movie. He needed to be around you in any capacity. After he parked, Rafe walked out of the car and opened your door. “Cmon,”

He appraised you as you took his hand as support, standing and you batted your eyelashes. Rafe did smile at the sight of your necklace, two ballet slippers. Dancing was something you loved, were damn good at and he did remember how genuinely happy you looked a few years ago. He gifted you that piece of jewelry. You never removed it.

Later, In his loft, he came to the living room where you made yourself comfortable. Curled up like a kitten as you eyed the selection of films. You subconsciously leaned towards him as he sat next to you on the couch. Rafe kept telling himself, now. Ask her now.

“So. What are you doing Friday evening?” His voice was easy going but not casual. You looked over at him with raised eyebrows.

“Why?” Rafe rolled his eyes. Of course, even when he was trying to ask you on a date, you were bratty.

“Well? Do you have plans?”

You shrugged and he decided to take a more direct approach. Maybe his dick gave him courage or it was being fed up with your flippancy.

Rafe took hold of your chin, turning you towards him and you nuzzled into his palm. His breath caught as you gave him a soft expression.

“I want to take you out. Not like this. I want to take you on a date, princess. I’ve wanted to forever but I was too much of a pussy.”

“Yes.”

Rafe blinked at your response but quickly smiled. “Yeah? You’ll go out with me?”

“That’s what I said, didn’t I?” You giggled and he cupped your cheeks. He moved in, easing his way towards you, caught your lips in a kiss.

Rafe always wondered what it would be like. Kissing your sweet lips. Feeling your tongue against his as he touched your perfect body. He explored your figure, appreciating your curves as he began shifting. Rafe pulled back, hovering over your breathless mouth.

“Not here. I wanna do this right,” Without another word, he lifted you into his arms and walked to the bedroom.

Rafe set you down gently, still standing as you looked up at him, sitting on the mattress. Your eyes were a little glazed, lashes coated with mascara and you glanced at his pants.

“Oh, you want my dick, princess? Where exactly do you want it?”

Your fingers worked to unzip his pants, pulling down his underwear too. Rafe watched you take in his form.

You took hold of the shaft, spitting on the tip and you ran your tongue along the sides with expertise. He shivered and set a firm hand on your head. You sucked the head, moaning as you did it and fondled his balls. Rafe groaned as you took him as deep as possible, your throat bulging and he took the back of your head, pushing it down until your nose hit his stomach.

“That’s my fuckin girl, taking my cock so well. Goddamn, you know what you’re doing,” Nothing could ever compare to your mouth around him. Especially when you pulled off his dick to suck his balls. Using your tongue at the same time and he was seconds away from busting in your mouth. But he pulled you off, watching the spit fall from your lips.

Rafe crawled on top of you, licking the sweet spot on your neck until he kissed you messily. He sucked your lower lip, palming your tits and his hands clumsily taking off your shorts. Rafe kissed down your chest, hauling your shirt off and he sucked your nipples as he exposed them.

“You’re so fucking pretty, needed to taste every inch of you,” He panted and worked his way down your stomach. Rafe let his hands settle on your hips, his fingertips feeling your panties and he pushed them to the side.

“I need to fuck your pussy, baby. I gotta feel you squeeze my dick and cream on it.” He maneuvered your legs, bending them at the knees and he moved upright.

Rafe grabbed his cock, slapping the head against your clit a few times. Smearing the precum and he savored every second as you moaned when he pressed into you. HE felt your stomach bulge from his dick, he saw stars as he thrusted. Your hands moved, not being able to settle anywhere and Rafe lifted you up. Pressing your chests together, your arms wrapped around his back as he got a better angle.

“Fuck, it feels so good,” You whispered in his ear and he wrapped a hand around your throat.

“Is this what you needed? Needed to choke on my dick to quiet that mouth? Next time you wanna be a brat, you’ll just be a little slut for me.” Rafe used his momentum to fuck into you harder, playing with your clit at the same time and you were whimpering. Moaning his name and he wanted to make you cum so badly.

“What do you need, baby?” You shifted your legs higher and Rafe pushed them back. Your eyes squeezed shut and you let out a chorus of pleasured sounds.

“Let go, cum for me, princess. You’re so fucking pretty.” Rafe couldn’t resist meeting your lips as you were pushed over the edge and you gripped his back. Nails digging into his skin and he followed you soon shortly after.

Rafe came deep in you, he watched it from your pussy and he pulled his dick out. Jerked it so more cum decorated your bare skin. You sharply exhaled when he licked it off your lower stomach.

“That was round one, baby girl. Now that I’ve felt that pretty little pussy, I gotta sample it with my mouth too. It’s my job as your best friend.” He gave you an arrogant smirk as you gently smacked his arm.

@hauntedfawnn @eerielamb @songbirdmunson @loserboysandlithium @rafesheaven @marchsfreakshow

[mikkomacko]

Him and I - Tender Heart

Nico Hischier x Reader, Mob Boss Nico

Warnings: None x

Previous Chapter

____________________________________________

The red spot on the white floors is tormenting.

It’s more of a coppery color now, old and rusty looking, and you wonder why no one has cleaned it up yet, even if it seems to be fading on its own. You can still see it clear as day though, blurred and fuzzy around the edges but bright and nauseating as it pooled on the floor.

The sight makes your head spin, stomach turning like it did that day you saw it fresh, seeping from the gunshot wound in Lena’s thigh. And there’s no adrenaline, no anger to keep you cool like last time when you fixed Lena up and kicked her to the curb.

No the house is just you and the boys now, the heavy foot fall of Alex, Jack and Luke echoing down from the upper level. They’re patrolling, guarding the weak spots like you told them too. That was where Timo got in to rescue you, a chink in the armor in the upper window that’s broken.

“You ok?”

It’s Timo, gun strapped across his chest and shoulders back as he stands beside you. You nod, eyes following Luke’s pacing figure.

“I saw you first,” you explain, nodding towards the balcony. “Barely, couldn’t really make out your face but I knew it was you.”

“Yeah?”

You nod, smiling just the slightest bit. “You have a certain walk. And your build. You’re a little bit bigger than Nico.”

“Ouch,” comes from behind you, Nico’s hand announcing his presence when it finds the small of your back. “That’s not good to hear.”

Timo snickers, and your own smile grows with amusement. Nico’s grinning when he leans over your shoulder to press a kiss into the apple of your cheek.

“Out of context,” you comment, “obviously you’re b-“

“Whoa don’t insult me to my face, I beg.” Timo interrupts, nudging you with the butt of his gun. He doesn’t look wounded when you turn to him, a bittersweet purse to his lips like he’s just happy you’re not having a breakdown in this place.

Your best friend slowly trails away, returning to his post of guarding your back as Nico instructed. Nico’s hand sweeps your hair over your shoulder, rough fingertips trailing along the gold chain on your neck. He takes your pendant and ring between his fingers, that knowing look in his eyes.

“Feeling ok?” It’s like he can see into you. Not through you, not just you, but everything you are. It’s not something you’ll ever get tired of, being seen and known so well.

“Mhm,” you assure, “just ready to go home, I guess.”

Nico’s face droops into a frown, his hand dropping your necklace in exchange for wrapping around your neck. He draws you into him, body thick and warm, and his lips find your forehead.

“I know baby,” he murmurs, “we’ll be back before ya know it.”

You press into his hold, the blood stained floor and the emptiness of his grandfathers old house forgotten now that he’s got you. “I miss Moose,” you complain, and Nico laughs softly “my poor baby. He doesn’t even know what time is, it’s probably felt so long.”

“Next time we travel you can bring him,” he cups the back of your head, thumb stroking your hair. “Lesson learned, I promise.”

Triumphantly, you smile up at him. Nico had insisted it’d be too hard to bring Moose on such a short trip, that the dog would survive a week without you and that’s it’s just mean to make him get on a plane again. After all, the last time he was on one was when he was being taken from his litter.

The guilt trip had worked and you’d left him at home. It however won’t work next time, no matter what Nico tries to pull. This time you’ve got the reminder of this trip from hell on your side.

“Break it up lovebirds, we’ve got company.”

Mercer is marching towards you from the front door, riffle hanging from his shoulder and combat boots thumping on the hardwood floor. A bulky black vest hangs from his fingertips. Before you can even ask he’s holding it out to you.

“Dawson, I don’t need tha-“

“Don’t care, put it on.”

The usual polite, Canadian tone of his gone completely. He’s serious, face hardened and closed off as he stares you down. Confused, you look to Nico.

“Merc, the vest is a bit much.”

“She bruised and beat up,” Dawson says, raising an eyebrow at Nico. “I’d rather her not add bullet holes to the list.”

Nico stares back, expressionless for a moment before he’s nudging you with a pat to your hip. “Put it on baby.”

They’re being dramatic, you think. Nico’s family wouldn’t openly try to kill you in front of him. But you supposed you’d rather be safe than sorry so you take the vest from a smirking Mercer, pulling it over your head and grumbling when your hair tangles in front of your face.

Nico is the one to brush it away, fingertips gentle as he smoothes it down and tucks the loose strands behind yours ears.

“Pretty girl,” he murmurs, a half smile on his lips. You roll your eyes at his flattery, adjusting the bulky vest and glaring at Mercer.

“You better hope I get shot at or I’m gonna kill you for shoving me in this thing.”

He doesn’t bat an eye at your threatening tone, scoffing and then jabbing a finger at Nico. “If someone so much as reaches for their hip, you better be protecting her head.”

It’s sweet, despite how serious he sounds. Like he’s genuinely concerned for your safety. He did witness Rino first hand though, and he saw the fallout with Nico after. How much it hurt you to have to tell Nico the truth. It hurt Mercer too, enough that he doesn’t trust them anymore.

“Dawson,” Nico calls, tone gentle. “I promise I’m always looking out for her, yeah? Especially her head, but all of her too.”

Comically, Mercer looks Nico up and down, eyes squinted with judgment and he lets out an unimpressed hum. “Yet to be seen,” he says casually, glancing at you. You have to bite back your laugh, entertained by Mercer scolding him.

Offended, Nico scoffs. Eyebrows pulled together in a frown, your fiancé glares at Mercer. “Just get to your fucking post.” Nico hisses, dismissing Mercer with a wave of his hand. The other boy looks to you, and not wanting to escalate Nico any further, you silently nod.

“What the fuck was that?” He grumbles under his breath, shaking his head in annoyance. You catch the strand of hair that slips in front of his eyes, pushing it back over his forehead.

“You always told him he doesn’t take stuff seriously enough,” you whisper, “maybe this is him trying.”

Before he can respond, the sound of the front door opening creaks throughout the empty house. Nico’s body stiffens, his frame immediately moving to stand in front of you and you fall back, reaching for the hem of his hoodie. Timo and Mercer form around you, a protective triangle.

Upstairs, the other three have gone silent, no doubt having moved into their spots as well. You don’t see when Nico’s family enters the large living room, but you hear their footfall, how it grows louder and clearer before suddenly halting.

“Nico,” Luca calls, confused. “What the hell is going on?”

The sound of his brother’s voice sends a dollop of ease down your spine. You weren’t exactly expecting Rino to still be around let alone show up here, but you wouldn’t put it past him.

You glance over to Timo, see the way his clenched shoulders ease just the slightest bit and you find yourself rising to your toes to peak over Nico’s shoulder.

“You tell me,” Nico answers coolly, shifting as he crosses his arms over his chest. His family is gathered in the entryway still, frozen and caught off guard by the presence of weapons. The unspoken standoff.

Nina’s gaze falls to you and you quickly cower behind Nico, mentally cursing yourself for being such a busy body.

“I don’t know,” Luca huffs, “I got notice in the middle of the night that father was missing, then a huge withdrawal from the business account, and you were silent until this morning. Then I get a cryptic text saying to come here and you’ve got a fucking gun pointed at me!”

Luca’s voice rises as his frustration grows with each spoken word, booming throughout the empty room and echoing off the pristine walls. Both Mercer and Timo squeeze in closer to you, as if expecting Luca to bite at any moment.

“I know father is gone,” Nico confirms, calm and collected. Like always. “And going off of that, I’m not surprised you’re suddenly missing funds. But the boys and the guns and me are here to find out what you really know.”

You can’t see it, but it feels like that last part is pointed more at his mother than the others. The urge to look over his shoulder again burns in your gut, but you stay put, knowing that the last time you forgot protocols you ended up in this exact room.

“You know about dad?”

It’s Nina, her voice small, unlike you’ve ever heard her in the brief time since you’ve met her. You can’t tell if she sounds more scared or sad, unable to read her from here. Nico has a lot in common with his siblings. His openness with you isn’t one of them.

“Nico,” Luca says quietly, hesitantly. “What did you do? Where’s father?”

Your fiancé doesn’t so much as flinch. He doesn’t say anything, unable and unwilling to take credit for your handiwork with Rino. From the outside, it looks like Nico is simply waiting, his silence urging them to start speaking. From your view, you know he’s trying to decide what to say, if he should reveal the truth and risk losing them.

That’s not something you’re going to let happen.

Releasing the hem of his hoodie, you step around Nico to be by his side. Your movement makes him shift, dropping his arms out to the side and it looks like he’s about to sling them around you, shield you again. Before he can, you take a hold of his hand in both of yours, meeting his concerned gaze with a subtle nod of your head.

Understanding seeps into his eyes, his whole body relaxing as he accepts the comfort of holding your hand. The gesture does nothing for the other boys though, and you feel as much as you hear them shift closer.

“He didn’t do anything,” you answer, still looking at Nico for a moment longer. His fingers squeeze just once, in thanks, and then you level his brother with a confident stare. “I did.”

Luca looks just as confused as before, helplessly running a hand through his hair in frustration. You feel a little guilty for the eldest son. It’s not his fault he got stuck with the task of running the business, of keeping his father in check and managing the money and legacy his grandfather left behind. Trying to keep Rino from ruining it.

But then again, he never took a second to think about what it all means. He never decided to change like Nico has. And you don’t feel bad for him about that.

Nina is watching you sadly, her eyes big and droopy like Nico’s get when his feelings are hurt. That kicked puppy look, growing even more down trodden when she notices the cut on your lip, the protective gear on your torso.

“Y/n,” she breathes, taking a step towards you with her arm out. “you don’t have to be afraid of u-“

In perfect sync Nico yanks you back by the hand, half stepping in front of you just as Timo and Mercer close in beside you, guns digging into their shoulders and aimed at Nina. The safety never clicks off, but the effect is the same.

“If anyone is this god damn family touches her again I swear to god,” Nico warns gruffly, as Nina quickly retreats.

“Neeky, what are you talking about?” She begs, holding her hands up to show Mercer and Timo she means no harm. “The rifles, the guards, what is going on?”

Still half behind Nico’s arm, you finally look to Katja. She’s already watching you, an inquisitive but knowing look on her face. She’s waiting for you to make the move, and you know why. She took a risk warning you that day in the car, went against her husband and her powerful family for the first time in her life. And until you’ve admitted that you done what needed to be done, that’s she’s safe now too, she won’t utter another word about it.

“The car ride,” you address her, “it took me a bit, but I got it. I-we know everything.”

A proud smirk tugs at the corners of her lips, brief and tiny but still noticeable. You note the way her shoulders seem to lift, chin tilting up in admiration.

“Rino wanted you out Luca,” you continue, “and he wanted Nico back and punished for leaving. The only way to do that was to get his influence back, his loyal subjects.

“And Lena was his top recruit.”

Nina is the first to react, her hands shooting up to cover her mouth in disbelief. It’s a positive sign at the least. It means she didn’t know before, she wasn’t in on it with Reno.

“He planned it all from the day we got here. The texts and everything were on Lena’s phone-“

“We checked her phone,” Luca cuts in, not very much in denial but more so lost. Like he can’t fathom that this would happen. It gives you a little more hope.

“You missed her deleted albums,” you say pointedly, shooting Luca a scolding glare. Head of a business and he’s not even smart enough to snoop right. “She was working with Rino to earn her place back in the business by getting rid of me and dragging Nico home.”

Luca looks at you, eyebrow lifted in a fascinated way. It’s the same way he looked at you when you went against Nico and showed up here with the boys. “What did you do?”

“Mercer put a gun to the back of his head and I told him if he ever came near Nico or my family again we’d kill him.”

“And he ran,” Mercer adds gruffly, venom dripping from his tongue. “Like a fucking coward he took off.”

Briefly, you wonder why some people would even both having kids if they didn’t really want to love them. It’s clear from Luca and Nina’s downtrodden gazes that they’re not surprised. Whatever Rino has done in the past, it’s made it clear that his kids expect nothing great from him.

“We don’t know where he went or what he’ll do. I just know it’ll never involve Nico again.” You look to Katja again, a warm feeling swelling in your chest when you find her watching you with wet eyes. “And it won’t involve you either, as long as you don’t want it to.”

Nina and Luca whip around to stare at their mother, jaws dropped. “You knew?” Nina demands, meanly.

“I know everything Rino does.” She admits, devoid of her usual tone of privilege. “I’ve just never had the means to stop him.”

Nico’s other hand finds the back of your neck, fingers strong as he squeezes. You melt into his touch, a heavy breath falling from your lips. Katja nods at you.

“Until now, at least.”

“A little too fucking late!” Comes from upstairs, Jack you think might’ve said it but from here, him and Luke sound awfully similar.

You can’t help it. You laugh, small and quietly but enough to make Timo snicker too from the other side of Nico.

“Alright,” Nico sighs, amused. “We gotta stop you before they start a riot or something up there.”

His hand finds your neck again, heavy and sturdy, and you look up at him. His other fingers find your necklace, drawing the pendant out and laying it across the vest, the gold glinting on the black. For just a brief moment you two share a silent exchange, unsure of what you’re really looking to him for, but then his fingers are holding your chin high and confident, and he tilts his head just slightly, and you know. You did good, you made him proud, you did exactly what you were supposed to do here.

Timid, you give him a small smile and the moment is over though it’s not fleeting. Even after he releases your chin, and any fondness that had been in his eyes before fades as he turns to his family, you can still feel it.

“Nico I promise I didn’t know,” Luca says earnestly, “about Lena or any of it. You know how father is, I was so stuck on the business that I didn’t even notice him stirring things up.”

Stiffly, Nico nods and his gaze falls to Nina. “You really thought I knew Nico?”

“You came all the way from France for something,” he responds, accusingly. “And you didn’t think to tell me about running into Lena.”

Nina makes an affronted face, like her brother’s words have just broken her heart in two. “I did that for you,” she swears, “I came home because I wanted to see you. And everything with Lena, I thought it was harmless. You and y/n were so happy that night. It was a side of you I have never seen before and I thought telling you about Lena would scare you into not asking her to be your prinzessin.”

Lena harmless. You could almost laugh. She may have been helpless but that seemed to make her even more harmful. Though you supposed if Nico had asked you about her that night in the bar you would’ve thought the same thing. Just a jealous ex.

“I would never hurt you, Nico. I’d never hurt y/n either,” pleading eyes fall on you, their expression so like Nico it makes your heart jump. “I love you guys.”

Nico takes a deep breath, his shoulders shift with it and you settle your hand on the curve of his spine, hoping the touch is calming. After a beat he looks over his shoulder to Timo, waving them off. The air in the room seems to shift now that the weapons are hanging neutrally by the boys’ sides.

The collective sighs of relief from the three of them have you biting back a laugh, hiding your smile in Nico’s side. The hand on your neck slides down to grab at the straps of the bulky vest.

“Let’s get this off,” he suggests, lightly tugging on it. Eager and happy to get rid of the stupid thing, you step back and help him maneuver the Kevlar off. “Mercer take this back, yeah?”

Dawson takes it from him, eyeing Nico’s family as he moves around them to head towards the car. Nico takes a hold of your face, and you reach up to help him smooth your hair back down-

“Oh my god,” Nina’s gasp makes you freeze, both you and Nico wide eyed as you turn to her. “The ring, Nico oh my god.”

At her words Luca and Katja notice too, their gazes falling to your left hand and Nico easily catches your palm in his. The mention of it makes you smile, heat crawling up your neck and you practically drag Nico over to his family.

He’s still holding your hand as you stretch it out to Nina, the light catching the diamond on your finger and twinkling elegantly.

“Oh it’s beautiful,” Nina murmurs, blinking up at you. “Can I…” she motions to hug you. Nico only hesitates a moment before letting you go and you engulf Nina in a hug.

Katja manages to get Nico into one, a bit awkward looking when you glance over at him but he’s speaking quietly with her, and you wonder if it’s about the other ring. The last thing you want is her to be offended that he didn’t use it. Wait, where is that ring?

“Congrats,” Luca tells you, a nervous smile on his lips. You hug him too, thinking of how he had helped you the last time you were in this house. You’re glad that wasn’t just a ploy for him.

“Thank you,” you murmur thoughtfully, and he knows it’s for more than you’re actually saying. He squeezes you again briefly before letting you go, you swapping places with Nico.

“It is a beautiful ring,” Katja says, approaching you slowly. “I should’ve known he’d come prepared.”

Shocked, you blink at her. “You knew?”

A coy smile takes over her face. “Like I said, I know my son. He wouldn’t come home for no reason, unfortunately. And while he may like to rewrite rules, the prinzessin rules are tradition.”

“He needs approval.” You realize, a bit confused. Nico’s never followed any of their rules before. Of course the traditions of the Devs are mirrored of the ones here, but you can’t imagine him asking his mother permission.

“In his case no,” she explains, then cautiously reaches out for your hand. You let her take it between both of hers, squeezing slightly just like Nico does. “Nico has never needed or wanted permission from us for anything. But he wanted a chance for us to meet you first.”

“He cares what you guys think,” you tell her, “even if it doesn’t seem like it. And he talks about you all a lot.”

Katja smiles, grateful and emotional. “Thank you,” she whispers thickly, “for everything. For saving him, making him better than I ever could’ve.”

“He did that all himself,” you admit. “I might’ve been inspiration but Nico never needed to be fixed by anyone. He’s too stubborn.”

She laughs. “And thank you for trusting me, saving me.”

You can’t help it. You shake your hand out of hers, throwing your arms around her shoulders and hugging her. Katja squeezes you back, her hands cautious and gentle on your back but she still feels warm, relaxed. Somewhere in your head, you think she feels motherly. Not quite like Timo’s mother, but similar enough.

“If you ever need anything,” you begin but she shushes you.

“I know.”

Finally, you take a deep breath, closing your eyes and basking in the feeling of doing something right. You kept Nico safe from Rino, and he gets to keep the rest of his family.

Parting from Katja, you meet back up with Nico who tucks you under his arm protectively, kissing the top of your head.

“What do you have planned for the rest of the day?” Luca asks, tucking his hands into the front pocket of his jeans. Mercer comes back sans bulletproof vest, still watching Luca through narrowed eyes.

You give him a warning look. “Finish packing, probably nap for a bit. We were up early, uh and then we’ve got our flight home.”

Nina’s face falls at the mention of your departure tonight, frowning with those big moony eyes.

“You’ll still come see us, won’t you?” She asks, hopeful.

You and Nico exchange a look. It’s not that you haven’t enjoyed Switzerland. There was a lot of fun but there was also a lot of bad, and sometime the bad sticks longer than the good. You’re not saying you won’t come back ever, but for now you want to be home with Nico and Moose.

Nico sucks in a breath, shrugging as he turns to his sister. “Yeah, but not for a while.” He says, and Nina has barely had anytime to slump in defeat before you continue.

“But we’ve got lots of room in Jersey, and a wedding to plan soon, so…”

Nico squeezes your bicep. “So you’re always welcome to come visit.” It’s sweet how they all seem light up with happiness at the invite.

They may need a little work still, but that doesn’t mean they’re not family.

~~~~

Nico wonders a lot of things.

He wonders how people come up with plot lines for books, how they can concoct entire universes in their heads and execute effortlessly. Like that lady that wrote The Hunger Games. Where did that idea come from and how did it come out so well (he’s never read the book but you’ve told him about them).

He wonders how Bluetooth connection works. How did someone figure out that if you put a stupid little signal in one device and another signal in another device, they can talk to each other? It kind of works like magic but not really because magic isn’t real. Whose brain decided it would be cool to make this stuff interface with each other?

He wonders how vinyls work and why it makes music sound different. The little groves aren’t just spirals carved into the disc? How does a song get engraved? He wants to put two different ones under a microscope and see what the fuck is the difference on them that makes them play different songs.

What he wonders the most though, is how he managed to make you love him. He doesn’t question it often, tries not to test his luck but sometimes he can’t help it. In those moments where you’re looking at him like he’s the reason for life. When your eyes are big and full of awe, gazing into him as if you’re looking at heaven itself (if heaven is real). When you move in sync with him, fit under his arm like he’s the center of your gravity.

How did that happen? How did he become someone so deserving of being the center of your world?

“You’ve got a million thoughts behind those eyes.”

Nico smiles, a smug little curl of his lips and shrugs. You raise a single eyebrow, curiously looking up at him through your eyelashes before focusing back on the task at hand.

“Am I gonna get to know them any time soon?” You hold up the black Kith hoodie he loves, the one that’s got that cute dog embroidered on it, squinting as you picture what it would look like on him with the dark sweats you put to the side for him earlier.

“Think you already know them,” he teases, and you subtly shake your head before tossing the hoodie to the bed. “Know everything don’t you?”

“This marriage thing is gonna work out great,” you say dreamily, “you already know the most important rule.”

Nico laughs, holding still as best he can as you hold up a quarter zip to his torso. It’s red and fleece, incredibly warm and soft if he recalls correctly. It’s not something he wears often but it’s the perfect shade of devils red and you always touch his biceps and chest when he wears it, feeling how fluffy it is.

He already knows it’s the one you’re going to choose by the way your eyes light up, a pleased smirk on your face. So he’s not at all surprised when you take it off the hanger, folding it to go alongside his sweats with a cute little, “perfect!”

“Are you gonna dress me everyday now?”

Snaking his arms around your waist, he presses his face into the crook of your neck. “Maybe,” you laugh, “especially if I’m gonna be the one holding you on the plane tonight when you’re crying.”

“I don’t cry,” he argues, nibbling on the soft skin and you jump, startled by his blunt teeth nipping at you. “I whine, s’different.” Nico’s arms keep you still, held tight to the front of him as you squirm away from his teasing nips.

“Tomato, tomato,” you rebuttal, “either way I’m the one holding your fidgeting butt still.”

That makes him laugh, tossing his head back and you, pleased with his reaction, giggle alongside him. It wasn’t that funny a joke, but maybe he’s just that happy. He loves you that much.

“I appreciate it.” He compliments, kissing the back of your head. His hands fall to rest on your hips, fingertips lingering as you move away from him to finish collecting the things you need to pack.

Nico sits on the edge of the bed, heart full. His eyes follow you around the room, stars practically twinkling in his pupils. You’re so beautiful, so wonderful, so amazingly perfect for him.

“I can do that, ya know?” He calls, amused but grateful that you’re taking over the tedious task for him.

Approaching the suitcases laid out beside him, you tuck the stack of shirts into the little crevices and corners of the case. Funnily, Nico notices that he no longer has his own suitcase. No, you’ve just mixed all your stuff in with his and his with yours. There’s no apparent rhyme or reason either.

“I know,” you utter, “maybe sometimes I just like doing things for you.”

Nico’s heart swells, erratically vibrating under his skin and he feels the urge to tackle to you to the bed, lay himself on top of you and just squeeze you until you pop. Instead he chuckles.

“Maybe sometimes?” He asks casually, “not all the time?”

“No,” you giggle, a hand on your hip as you smile at him. Then something curious settles over your features, confusion in your gaze. “What happened to the other ring?”

He pauses, gaze flittering to the ensuite bathroom before settling back on you. It was long enough for you to catch though, your eyes shifting up to look at the open door and then you're taking off. Scrambling away from his grabbing hands with a giggle, Nico chases after you with a lighthearted "wait!"

You're already in the bathroom though, tearing through the drawers and shifting around whatever left over junk he abandoned in there years ago. "Nico, where?" You beg, still pawing around.

Sighing, he shifts onto his knees and pulls open the cabinet door beneath his sink. You crowd behind him, shifting impatiently as he shoves boxes of cleaning supplies and extra shampoos to the side. Behind the drain pipe, his finger brush against the velvet box and he grabs it. Then, with a blank look on his face, he holds it up to you.

"Ooh," you squeal, taking it and flipping the top open. Knees cracking, he returns to his full height, nudging the cabinet shut with his foot. Propped up against the counter, Nico watches you with bated breath as you examine the ring from his mother.

He's not stupid. It's obvious you think the ring is beautiful, that it impressed you the first moment you saw it out on the front steps. Maybe he was a little worried you'd be upset he didn't give you that ring, but it's obvious now that he made the right choice. Your eyes shift over to your left hand and something seems to sparkle in them, as if the diamond and pearls themselves live inside your irises. Yeah, his mother's ring is beautiful, but you love the one on your finger.

"Right choice?" He asks anyway, still a bit hesitant.

You bite your lip, nodding happily. "Perfect choice," you assure. Gently, you close the box and hold it out to him.

“S’yours,” Nico shoos it away, not interested in taking it back from you.

“Katja gave it to you,” you tell him, shaking your hand as if that knock enough sense into him to take it back. What are you going to do with two rings?

“For you,” he presses, “it’s yours baby. You get to decide what to do with it.”

It’s a lot of pressure. This family heirloom that he never thought he’d get, a token of acceptance from his mother and he doesn’t even want it. He wants you to have it.

The thing is, you don’t really want it either. You don’t need his mother’s acceptance or the tradition of this business. You and Nico are not a part of it. You have your own family and life and traditions you want to set up, ones that have real meaning behind them. You have a ring that was given out of love, not out of contract or obligation.

It means nothing to you.

But you’d imagine it doesn’t mean nothing to his siblings, the ones still here and trying to redefine the organization their father built. Maybe the ring should be redefined, given a new purpose.

Maybe it’s time the ring goes to a Hischier daughter. Someone who will know what to do with it. And will know what it has meant for the women before her.

“Ok,” you murmur, reminding yourself to leave it on the outside pocket of your carry on. “Thank you, Nico.”

He takes a hold of your hips in his large hands, guiding you to stand between his thighs. You go pliantly, melting into his broad chest with a soft sound of contentment.

“Thank you,” he whispers, tone heavy with what he’s not willing to say right now. You get it all the same, and the feeling of pride from earlier swarms up in your chest again. You did good, you won, you did it all for Nico. And sure you’ll have to still keep an ear to the ground for Rino, but Nico is safe and happy.

You press a kiss to his chest through his shirt. “I’m tired, Schao.”

He runs a hand up your back, nose pressing into your forehead sweetly. “Let’s go nap baby.” He pats at the outside of your thigh, moving to guide you back to the room. “We’ve had a busy day.”

Starting the day with an early morning proposal and then the chat with his family, and now a long trip home. It has been a busy day.

You wiggle out of your jeans, kicking them towards your suitcase to be packed later before climbing into the bed that’s still unmade. Nico kicks off his own jeans, working his shirt over his head and you’re reminded of how he’d celebrated your engagement in these very sheets just this morning.

Blushing, you watch as Nico slips under his side of the blankets. Like two magnet ends, you slide into his side, laying your cheek on his bicep and throwing your leg over his middle. Smiling, his free hand drops under the blankets to hold the meatiest part of your thigh, the pads of his fingers lovingly rubbing little circles into your skin.

“We’ll be home soon,” you whisper, excited. He makes an agreeable humming noise and you peak up to find his eyes already closed, dark eyelashes brushing the tops of his cheeks.

Laying your left hand over his heart, you admire the pretty diamond for a bit longer. Feeling his heart beat, listening to his breath even out, entranced by the pretty pearls until your eyes slip shut on their own accord.

~~~~

Nico is having a dream.

Or something like a dream, he thinks. He’s been here a million times, knows the exact shade of the walls and the thread count of the bed sheets and the smell of the candle on the nightstand. It is his favorite place after all; The bedroom he shares with you at home.

For a moment he thinks it’s a memory. There’s something about the air in the room, it feels so familiar and certain. Like he already knows what’s gonna happen and he’s just patiently waiting for it. He shuffles in the bed, blinking through the dark air as he realizes you’re awake too and quietly speaking.

Nico thinks you’re speaking to him, sits up higher on the pillows and moves to fully look at you. But you’re not looking at him. Instead, you’re turned away from him, sitting up with the bedding bunched around your hips. His shirt is draped over your shoulders and hangs loosely around your neck, the collar stretched out from the countless times he yanked and pulled it to kiss down the column of your throat and collarbones.

His mind tells him to reach out, to brush his fingers over the back of your neck to get your attention. His hands stay still though, muscles not making any effort to comply with his brain. Helpless, Nico watches your shoulders and back move as you speak quietly, the words unintelligible to him.

Moving on its own accord, Nico’s body sits up on the mattress and tucks into the curve of your back, his chin pressing into your shoulder blade. The sight in front of him makes his heart skip, confusion turning to panic, and he’s so grateful that your hand reaches back to rest on his thigh, as if comforting him.

A dream, it has to be a dream. Because it’d be impossible of him to have the memory of a child standing at your bedside in the middle of the night.

It’s a boy, maybe eight or nine years old. It’s funny, Nico thinks, how dark the room is but the features of the boy are crystal clear. Dark brown eyes, red rimmed and full of tears, innocently framed by equally dark eyelashes. It’s startling to see, to be looking at the same eyes he sees in the mirror.

Nico’s breath catches in his chest. He’s looking at himself he think, examining the boys dark and messy hair. Why is he looking at himself?

Except he’s not, he realizes a beat later. The soft shape of the boys face, the fullness of his mouth, the roundness of his nose. They’re features he’d recognize anywhere because they’re yours.

This boy, a perfect blend of you and him, isn’t a younger, dream version of himself. It’s a child he shares with you, it’s your son.

He doesn’t blink an eye at Nico’s sudden presence over your shoulder, his gaze desperately locked on you and if his eyes weren’t enough to prove this kid is Nico’s too, that simple action certainly is.

A teddy bear is clutched in the boys hands, little fingers tangled around the neck of the stuffed animal. Deja vu stirs Nico’s brain, memories of him as a child holding his bear the same way suddenly surfacing. Maybe that kid is supposed to be Nico when he was younger because the more he notices, the more he realizes he’s lived this night before.

The boy is hiccuping, fighting back blubbery cries and squeezing at that teddy bear as he retells the nightmare he woke up from. A once dream of him out in the yard, running and giggling through a game of tag with ‘the family���. It’s fun and he’s so excited to be with everyone.

Until suddenly it’s not fun and he doesn’t want anyone there. They’ve all turned into monsters, twisted faces of the people he loves, their eyes now black and menacing, chasing him with a dangerous desperation. It feels like they want to kill him.

The boy doesn’t say that, but Nico knows. It’s the same nightmare he used to have as a child. Luca and Nina, chasing him with evil eyes and death grips. His parents, following behind with the same look, not pursuing really but not helping either. It was the dream that plagued him for years, forced him from his bed and into his parent’s room until he was old enough to realize he was better off soothing himself back to sleep.

The air in the room has gone cold, Nico’s own breath shuddering against the skin of your shoulder and he wants to move, needs to move. He needs to reach around you, reach for the crying boy because Nico knows what comes next.

It’s the part where his mother blinks back at him, tired and annoyed, mumbling dismissively that it was a dream and he’s too old to be doing this. He has his own bed and room, he knows how to put himself back to bed. Time to grow up and get over it, or if really necessary, wake the nanny next time. His father has work tomorrow and can’t be disturbed. Nico knows that, he’s reminded and then sent back out of the room with his teddy bear squeezed so tightly in his hands he thinks the seams might rip.

He still can’t move however, can’t get his body to cooperate with the signals he’s screaming at it. Someone needs to get to the boy, needs to pick him up and hug him, needs to wipe those tears off his puffy cheeks and tell him that would never happen, that his family loves him and he’s got nothing to be scared of.

To his horror, Nico blinks and realizes it would be you. You’d be his mother in this dream, dismissing the boy with a cold shoulder before making sure he himself hasn’t been bother by the intrusion. The same as his mother used to do for his father. Even worse, Nico realizes he’s his father in this stupid dream, this stupid nightmare.

You pull away from Nico and his heart seizes, his own eyes stinging with tears as he waits for you to dismiss the crying child. He’s a marble statue on the bed, watching you reach for the blankets with bated breath.

He expects you to pull them back over your shoulder and lay down. Except you don’t, your hands pushing them further down your thighs and you’re getting up from the bed.

Like its instinct, the boys stretches his little arms out to you and you lean down to meet him halfway. Wrapping him up in your arms, you lift him onto your hip and the boy curls into you, hugging his bear tightly and laying his head on your chest. You hold him protectively, a hand soothing the hair on the nape of his neck and rocking him steadily until his cries are just sniffles into the fabric of your shirt. It’s then that Nico can finally move again, the invisible hold on his limbs easing to nothing.

“He’s ok,” he hears himself saying, “he’s ok now.”

Like you’re seeing him for the first time, not noticing until now that Nico is in the dream, you turn to him. Your eyes shine, tired but warm and with a loving smile you approach the bed. Nico reaches out, eager now that he can get his body to cooperate and gestures for you to get back in bed. Softly, you lay the boy down in bed, his head on your pillow and wet eyes blinking at Nico.

“Daddy?” He asks and Nico can’t breathe, can’t speak. His mouth opens, unsure of what to even say but nothing comes out anyway. It feels like his vocal cords have been taken, silenced.

But then you lay down too, settling into the mattress besides the young boy and Nico lets out a quiet breath. Nervously, Nico draws the teary eyed boy into his chest, hands tender and uncertain but the boy goes easily, snuggling into Nico’s hold like he’s been there a million times before. Laying back into the pillows, Nico watches you move closer, laying your head on his bicep and your hand comes up to play with the boys hair. You throw your leg over Nico’s, touch your foot to his calf and he melts into the bed.

It feels safe, being here. In his bed, his home with you. The weight of you and the son he shares with you on his chest. Knowing that he’s ok, Nico’s ok and the boy is too.

Nico wakes up with a start, the light of the setting sun harsh on his eyes and he has to blink rapidly to get the white spots to clear up. Heart thumping painfully loud in his chest and ears, he forces himself to take deep breaths.

He’s in his room, well the room you two now share, just not the one from his dream. This house and room have been left at the bare minimum, abandoned after he left to the United States. The cleaning crew comes every other week to keep it fresh and tidy, and the grounds crew every few weeks to care for the lawn. Nico’s never cared about this house. It was given to him by his grandfather, part of his inheritance. They all got a house within ten miles of grandfathers house. For security and safety reasons.

Nico almost sold it when he first got to Jersey. Thought of using the money to speed up the process of getting the Devs going, but he actually enjoyed living in the cramped apartment with Timo and Jonas and Jesper and the girls. It felt like a real home with a real family.

And his siblings would never forgive him if he got rid of the family gift from his grandfather.

Now, he’s glad he didn’t. It’s still not home to him, but he’s shared too many moments in this house with you already. He can’t imagine anyone else but you in the kitchen, drinking tea with him in the morning. Chasing you around the piles of snow outback in the middle of the night. The sheets have already begun to smell like you and him, a perfect mix of his cologne and your perfume, just like the sheets back in Jersey.

And as much as he hated his grandfather, the old kook was right about one thing. Being this close is safe. If anything were to happen to him, to the Devs, you’d have this home. A safe place for you and Moose and probably Alex too at the very least. Near his family, his mother who he can shockingly trust to make sure you’re taken care of.

Nico’s pulse and breath even out, and he drags a hand down his face, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. They still feel heavy and groggy, begging to return to sleep. He blinks, lets the image of the dream float fuzzily into his mind again.

A kid. Nico had a kid. Somewhere in his subconscious, he’s ok with that. The thought brings a lump to front of his throat, but not one big enough to choke on. Improvement, he thinks happily. He’s easing into this family thing, spurred by the image of you. You’ve always been so sweet with Nico, so patient of his faults and the time he needed to grow up and heal.

He can be patient too, he thinks. And kind, and loving, and protective, and providing. And present. Everything a good dad should be.

Tears sting at the back of his throat, blurring his vision and he sniffles quietly.

Nico doesn’t want to wake you, but the arm you’re using as a pillow is stinging with pins and needles, fingertips cold and numb. And even though you’re plastered to his side, he wants more.

Hesitant and a bit embarrassed, he rolls onto his side to face you, wincing as he attempts to wiggle his arm out from under you. The movement makes you stir, a sharp inhale of air cutting through the silent room and then your blinking your eyes open, coming face to face with Nico.

“Sorry,” he whispers, pathetically, his voice cracking. That stupid burning feeling in his throat grows and Nico’s not even sure what he wants, what’s going on. He can feel himself panicking again as you sit up a bit and free his arm. He’s about to start babbling his dream to you in defense for the tears but you don’t even give him a chance.

Sleepily, you move up the pillows and onto your side, still facing him. But your arm is pushing at his shoulder and he molds like putty in your hands. Nudging him to move onto his side, his back now facing you, Nico inhales shakily. He can feel you shuffling behind him, rustling the blankets like you’re searching for something and he opens his mouth to ask what you’re doing.

You shush him by throwing your arm around his chest and your leg over his hip, pulling yourself tight to his back. Soft and worn fabric tickles the skin of his chest and he cranes his neck down, blinking at the sight of his teddy bear. He’d grabbed it from his childhood bedroom for you in the hospital and ever since it’s slept by your head or in the crook of your elbow.

Nico takes the bear from your hand, laying it against his chest and bicep, and you curl your arm tighter around him, fingers pressing over his heart in a welcome weight. It’s a nice feeling, the pressure and warmth of your body wrapped around him like this, and he can kinda see why you like when he holds you like this.

He feels so…safe and shielded. He closes his eyes, ignores the wet feeling of a few tears slipping down his cheeks.

“S’ok,” you whisper quietly into his ear, your face pressed into the back of his neck. “I’ve got you Neeky, s’ok.”

He drifts back off again, faintly realizing that that’s the first time you’ve called him that.

~~~~

The jet looms off to the side of the runway, the windows glowing with the cabin light and bulbs on the wings blinking. The car rolls to a stop next to a familiar black SUV, Timo putting it in park and killing the engine. Through the tinted window you can make out the other three Hischiers leaning against the front of it, bundled up in their coats. Luca’s got his arm tucked around a small, huddling figure.

“Maja,” you tell Nico, pressing your finger to the glass and looking back at him with a smile. He follows your gesture, laughing softly.

“You like Maja huh?

“She’s sweet,” you answer, moving to release your seatbelt just as the other vehicle pulls up next to you. Mercer, eager to get home, practically leaps out of the drivers seat.

Timo is the first to get out, quickly dashing around the front of the car to open the passenger door for Amelia and you and Nico giggle quietly to yourself. You’ve never seen Timo so romantic before.

Pulling Nico’s beaning further over his ears and checking his zipper, you give him another little grin before opening the door. The air is cold and biting, stings your cheeks as you shuffle out and Nico follows, staying close to your back.

The other boys have all gotten out of the car too, lined up groggily by the back of your SUV and Timo leaves Amelia standing with you, moving towards the trunk.

“Timo,” Nico stops him, nodding to Amelia. “They’ve got it.”

Luke, Alex, and Mercer don’t even so much as grumble when Nico gestures for them to load the bags on the jet. Jack however, rolls his eyes, stomping his feet like a child as he joins them.

The Hischiers have come over to help now, not that Nico would ever let them so they all just stand in front of you, waiting and expectant.

“You have everything you need?” Nina asks you first, faux cheeriness in her voice and you know how upset she is to see her baby brother go.

Nico laughs under his breath, moving around you and pulling his sister into a hug. It’s enough of an answer for her, Nina greedily accepting the affection and snuggling into his hold.

“Come on you,” Maja calls, pulling herself out of her hiding spot under Luca’s arm. Simultaneously, they stretch out their arms to you and you laugh, moving to accept the double hug from them. Their puffer jackets make it a bit of a tight fit but you don’t mind, squeezing them as tight as you can.

“It was so nice to meet you, y/n.” Maja tells you, “you know if you ever need anything at all we’re here. Luca loves long flights.”

He makes a noise of complaint, something between a scoff and a snort, and you almost laugh imagining him just as restless on planes as Nico is.

“You and Nico both, huh?” You tease, pulling back to smile at him. He chuckles, snaking a cold hand up to ruffle your hair.

“You take care of him, ok kid?” He tells you, and even though it’s said softly, you can hear the underlying concern in his tone.

“Always,” you promise, then narrow your eyes at him in a stern frown. “You take care of Maja and Katja, ok kid?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Not Nina?”

“Nah I think she can handle herself and her Frenchies.”

That makes both Luca and Maja laugh, him giving you one final squeeze before letting you go. “I will.” He assures, a fond look in his eyes as he awkwardly pats at the top of your head again. Maja presses a sisterly kiss to your cheek, grinning sadly as she returns to hiding under Luca’s arm.

Nico, now parted from his sister, moves to swap places with you, his hand briefly finding the small of your back. Nina is already crying when you get to her, cheeks red from the cold and glistening.

“Aww don’t do that.” You beg, bundling her up in a hug. She laughs wetly, pressing her face into your shoulder.

“I got the emotions for all three of us it seems,” she jokes, referencing the lack of tears coming from her brothers. You don’t tell her that Nico can actually be the world’s biggest softy. And you don’t think about waking up to him crying earlier, because if it were something he wanted you to be concerned about, he’d tell you.

It was him healing, you tell yourself, and then shake the memory away for now.

“A blessing and a curse,” you say, pulling back to hold her at arms length. She swipes at her cheeks, sniffling.

“Thank you for everything this trip,” she says earnestly. “You make him so happy, it’s like a brand new Nico. He hasn’t been like this since he was a baby.”

Your heart squeezes, a bittersweet feeling seeping into your veins. Sometimes it’s hard to picture Nico being a happy baby. He’s so neutral and solid now, confident but tense. Like he’s always waiting for something. But when you picture him singing in the car or wrestling Moose for toys and hanging out at the bar with the boys, you can see it.

Nico was born happy and bright, warm like the sun. Sometimes he hides it, but eventually he’ll show himself.

“You fixed him.” Nina shrugs, sniffling with fresh tears in her eyes again.

“That was all him,” you tell her, repeating your words to Katja from earlier “I may have been inspiration but he never really needed fixing. He just needed to know that we love him.”

The tears roll down her cheeks, a blubbering cry escaping her and you laugh, pulling her into another hug. After a moment of sniffling, she pulls back.

“I’m ok,” she says more to herself, laughing again. “I’m sorry he grew up like this, that we grew up like this.”

It’s not her fault, though you can’t really imagine having a baby brother and not protecting him. Maybe it’s just who you are though. Still, you wave off the apology. “It made him strong, it made you all strong.”

Releasing her, you dig in your pocket for the box you’d set aside earlier. Nina blinks rapidly, trying to dry her eyes and you hold it out to her.

“I think this belongs to you now.”

She gapes, recognizing the box immediately just as Nico had. “Y/n,” she gasps, “what? No that’s, she gave it to you and Nico-“

“Actually she gave it to Nico, and Nico gave it to me, and well I already have one so I figured it should go to someone who can make it mean something worthwhile.”

Nina shakes her head. “What about Luca? It’s meant for marriage?”

“I was told it stood more contractual obligation, but it should stand for love. It’s a wedding ring, after all. It should have ties to love.”

You press the box into her trembling hand. “Nico and I love you Nina. You’re the big sister I never had and well, this should dazzle on your finger while you woo every pretty French boy that struts by…”

She laughs wetly.

“And then maybe one day you’ll give it to your kids, kids you love, and they’ll give it to someone else they love.”

Her fingers wrap so tightly around the box her knuckles turn white. “I used to steal it from my mother’s jewelry box,” she says with awe. “After father got her an anniversary one and this one wasn’t worn anymore. I’d put it on my hand and imagine my grandmother had given it to me because it went so well with my eyes.”

Startling, you think it does. She’s got little flecks of green in them, more brown than anything else but they’re there. The same shade as the ring.

“It does,” you agree, letting her hug you again.

“I love you both too,” she murmurs, “and I’m gonna be a better sister, ok?”

Squeezing her, you nod. You don’t have a doubt that she won’t at least try, and that’s all you can really ask for. Maybe with Rino gone they’ll all find what they’ve been looking for.

Nina lets you go, tucking her hands into her coat pocket and sniffling through a smile. Nico finds his place next to you again, his hand falling to your lower back protectively and you subconsciously press closer into his side. Over her shoulder, the boys are carrying the last of the bags onto the jet.

Katja is fidgeting as she comes to say goodbye, anxiously picking at the strings of a gift bag in her gloved hand. It’s the most unkempt and normal looking you’ve ever seen her. It’s refreshing.

“My turn?” She says with a weak laugh.

She’s close enough for you to reach out and touch her, so you carefully cup your hands around the fist holding the gift bag.

“Thank you,” you say earnestly, “for warning us, for trusting me. I’m sorry it took me a bit to realize it.”

Katja shakes her head softly. “Don’t thank me. It was the right thing to do,” she looks at Nico, blinks sadly. “I should’ve done a lot of things differently and I should’ve done them a lot sooner,

“I’m sorry that I didn’t fight for my autonomy Nico, and I’m even more sorry that I didn’t fight for yours either.”

His body stiffens behind you, and you quickly let go of Katja’s hands in favor of slipping your arm around his waist and resting the other on his stomach, grounding him.

From here you can only see his side profile, stoic and intense in a way that’s strictly his resting face. But you can feel it in him, see it in his eyes that are always so telling. Something raw and tender.

“You fought for my girl,” he says quietly, “that’s apology enough mother.”

It’s not exactly forgiveness, but it is acceptance, and that’s good for now. You can’t expect Nico to let everything go after one apology. After all, he was just a kid, a young boy with a big heart who tried to please everyone, tried to make them love him, and in return he only got hurt.

That’ll probably stay with him for the rest of his life.

Katja smiles, a little amused as if she were expecting him to say that. Again, you think of Nico waking you earlier, how desperate and upset he looked, lost in whatever dream he had. You wonder if she ever saw him like that, ever held him and let him know he was safe. After all, his favorite thing in the world to tell you is that you’re safe with him. Maybe he picked it up from her.

You have a feeling, though that it might just be strictly a Nico thing.

“This is for you,” Katja clears her throat uncomfortably. “I figured you’d want it for the wedding maybe or to just have.”

She holds the bag out to Nico, his fingers trembling as he pulls the handles apart. You tip toe to look inside with him, chest aching painfully when you see the baby blue book printed with bears and rattles. It’s a baby book, you realize, and tucked against it are thin stacks of photographs and old, crumbled drawings, all placed in a protective plastic sleeve.

It’s his childhood all tucked into one gift bag. The good parts of it at least. Rino did all he could to silence Katja, to make her just a figure in the background but at the end of the day she’s still a mother and Nico is still her baby boy.

You were wrong about her being unfazed by Nico’s indifference to her. This whole time she’s been secretly holding on to any parts of him she could get her hands on, no matter how tiny.

Nico, a bit dazed, hands the bag to you. You accept it, letting it hang from your fingertips carefully while he stares back at his mother.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, “I-I was always trying to get photos from Nina to show her and yeah.”

It’s clear he doesn’t know what to say, overwhelmed with the gift but still appreciative. Katja must know that too, because she nods at him.

Nico coughs, clearing his throat. “We should get going. Don’t want to get in too late.”

Katja doesn’t say anything, just looks at you knowingly before you and Nico turn to gather Timo. He’s still saying goodbye Amelia, large arms wrapped around her and his face hidden in her hair. You and Nico already said your goodbyes to her in the car, knowing her and Timo would want this time together.

Leaving them to their moment, you look up at the jet, find the younger boys already seated inside and watching you both through the windows. You laugh softly, bumping Nico and gesturing for him to look.

“Dramatic,” he mutters with a roll of his eyes.

The Hischiers all look to you, one last parting smile on their lips. “Let us know when you land,” Nina requests and you happily oblige.

Nico takes your hand, starts to lead you towards the jet but you pause, waving to them one more time. “We’ll see you guys soon, yeah?”

Nina and Luca laugh. “We’ll talk after the holidays!” She calls, because you’re still slowly trailing away with Nico.

“Maja?”

You can’t see her smile, but you can hear it. “I’ll be there!”

Hopeful, you look to the slowly shrinking outline of Katja. She smiles, in a pristine but motherly way. “Soon,” she agrees simply, and you accept the answer, letting Nico easily guide you up the steps and into the jet.

~~~~

Nico’s foot fell asleep 20 minutes ago, his toes prickling uncomfortably with needles but he doesn’t dare move. After two hours of him attempting to act normal on the flight, sitting as still as possible and forcing himself to breathe evenly so he’s not huffing out sighs every five minutes, he’d given up.

Timo, a bittersweet look on his face, had collapsed into his seat and shut his eyes before the jet door was even shut. Nico doesn’t know if he’s asleep or just pretending, but no one dares disturb a tender-hearted Timo.

Jack and Luke had pulled out their switches as soon as the jet reached cruising altitude, bickering with each other over Fortnite and some other tractor game in the seats across from Timo.

Alex and Mercer sat across from Nico and you, shifting through the goody bags you’d left at all their seats. A little wooden mind puzzle game had kept Mercer occupied for about an hour, while Alex consumed almost every snack in his bag before curling up under a blanket and going to sleep.

It was at that point that Nico decided he’d had enough of acting like flying isn’t the bane of his fucking existence. It’s uncomfortable, it takes forever, there’s no breaks, and food options suck.

“Baby,” he’d pouted, looking to you all snug under your blanket with his teddy bear. You were half asleep too, eyes heavy and low as you just watched him and he wondered if you were waiting for him to fall asleep first.

At his beckoning, you’d gotten up from your seat and slipped easily between his parted thighs, settling into his lap like you belonged there. Then you’d slid his laptop over from in front of your seat, putting the volume on low and pressing play on Casablanca. Nico thinks you maybe watched five minutes of it before you fell asleep on his shoulder, your hand tucked under the hem of his quarter zip to warm your cold fingers.

Nico hasn’t moved since, except to switch movies and then pull the blanket over your shoulders. Even though he really wants to slip his stupid shoes off and he should probably get feeling back to his foot. Instead he just holds you, enjoying the feeling of your back steadily rising and falling as you breathe.

Just over the screen of the laptop, broody brown eyes watch him, swollen and tired but refusing to shut. Nico was hoping the further away from Switzerland you got, the more relaxed Mercer would be. Instead he looks like he’s got cyanide between his teeth.

Nico gently cups his hand over your ear, not wanting to wake you. “Merc,” he calls quietly, “she’s fine now buddy. I swear.”

“I know,” he says, blinking lazily “but it was scary Nico. Her asking me to do that was scary and seeing him hit her…”

Dawson adjusts himself in his seat, making a face like just the memory of it makes him sick. “I remember her after Philly. And I remember you both disappearing. And I know she’s got you and you’ve got her, but maybe I’ve got both of you too, ya know?”

In all this time since Philly, Nico never thought what happened really changed the boys. Sure they were upset and protective over her, but that comes with the territory. He never imagined that it scared them or still haunted them to this day too. Enough so that even a cut to your lip could make Mercer get like this.

Nico’s proud. Mercer has always kind of skated by, goofed off and put in minimal effort. Most of the time it feels like the boy just gets by on luck. Yet he’s spent this whole trip being your guy, your second hand, your Robin basically. And he’s done it better than Nico could’ve asked him to.

“Yeah,” he agrees, quietly because he does understand. Mercer doesn’t want this to set them back, to become something you hide from.

“I’m sorry,” Mercer suddenly mumbles, frowning with this far away look in his eyes. “About Rino and your family. And I’m sorry we always called you grumpy and stuff. If my family were like that I don’t think I’d even be half as nice as you are.”

Nico chuckles. “Nice isn’t typically used to describe me Merc.”

“Well you are nice,” he insists, gaze returning to Nico now. “I mean, you took a bunch of us in and made us a family. Taught us how to grow up. I was big ol’ baby before I got here. Never had to do anything for myself. And Alex was gonna spend his life in prison. And she didn’t have anyone anymore.

“You gave us a good home, Boss.”

It’s a little too much to take in. Nico feels like his nerves have been stripped raw and exposed to the winter winds all day, relentless and invisible fingers picking at them like strings. First his family, now this. He’s not sure what else he can take.

He clears his throat, nodding stiffly in thanks and the faintest hint of a smie flashes on Mercer's face. "Get some rest Dawson, we're ok now." Finally, he closes his eyes, leaning back into his seat. Nico waits for the sounds of Dawson's breath to even out before he too closes his eyes.

Nico doesn’t want to come back to Switzerland for a long time, especially not without knowing where Rino ran off too. But he thinks of the gift bag from his mother, the engagement ring sitting prettily on your finger, the image of you engulfed in tearful hugs with Luca, Maja, and Nina, and he thinks maybe it wasn’t all so bad.

He’s coming home feeling more loved and accepted than he’s ever felt in his life. And it’s all thanks to you, his fiancée, his girl. His family, he thinks warmly, drifting off to join you in sleep.

[lair-of-platonic-yanderes]

Hydro Sovereign's Child

Platonic! Yandere! Neuvillette x GN! Child! Furina! Reader

Description: Archons will do anything to protect their nations, including putting a burden in a child.

You might be immortal, but you are still a child. Child, who want to have a family.

Neuvillette doesn't know, what to think about you. Until he does.

And then one day, you were late for work.

Warning: OOC. English is my second language. Platonic Yandere. Focalor's actions can be seen as questionable. Reader need a hug. Spoilers for Fontaine Archon Quest. Reader were traumatized by Arlecchino. Aether is Traveler. Neuvillette isn't happy with Focalor and The Knave. Arlecchino's fate is gruesome.

A/N: It's a merge fic of two previously posted fics. The are few more sentences added, and an ending of the second fic now includes a rewritten scene with Neuvillette and Reader from the first fic.

_________

Her powers flow through Focalor's body. Hydro Archon looked at the distance, trying not to think too much about the current situation.

Separating divinity from body and spirit take a lot of time. And Focalor was left one on one with her thoughts during the separation.

Bit by bit, she separated everything, that even has a drop of divinity, from her body and soul. Her greatest creation. So perfectly human.

The process was almost over. Focalor could already see the outlines of the new "Hydro Archon". She only needed to separate the last bits of divinity.

And then her mind started to wander. Plan was risqué. If it fails, Fontaine will be doomed.

Another thought strike her, like a lightning. What if hydro dragon won't get enough powers from her divinity? Focalor's gaze feel on Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale, that now contained almost all of her divinity. Then her body fell on what essentially were her body and soul. The figure was the same height to Focalor.

Hydro Archon carefully reached with her powers to "Hydro Archon". Divinity was a tricky thing. It was everywhere in Archon's body. Perhaps, she should separate some more bits of her. That didn't have pure divinity, but have echoes of it?

Bit. After bit. After bit.

More powers were stored in Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale. Focalor's nodded slowly. It would be enough. Now she only needed to wake the new "Hydro Archon".

Focalor looked at them.

They became smaller. Much younger.

Child. "Hydro Archon" became a child.

Focalor chewed her lips. She could reverse separation and try again. And make sure, that this time her double will be older.

Her gaze fall on Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale again. All her powers were there. The chance for Fontaine's salvation.

On one hand, the bigger chance for salvation of her nation.

On the other hand, child, that won't be forced to live centuries under curse, with no chance of normal life.

Ever since she became an Archon, Focalor wasn't seen by her people. They won't question, why new archon are so young.

Oceanids left Fontaine. They won't reveal, that Archon aren't her.

The child will contain a good chunk of her non-plan related memories. They won't act according to their age. Their behavior won't be questioned.

Maybe, hydro dragon would find kid adorable. And it will help in her plan's succeed.

Fontaine. Or a child.

With tears in her eyes, Focalor finished the separation. Remains of her divinity flew into Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale. Before fading, she whispered.

"I am sorry, [Y/N]. I hope, that one day, you could forgive me."

_________

Sometimes, you saw a woman in your dreams. She had tears in her eyes. She would apologize to you over and over again.

At first, you thought, that she was your mother. Your mother, that entrust Very Important Mission on you.

You quickly realized, that she wasn't your mom.

You were just a shred of true Hydro Archon. And she had a Very Important Mission for you.

You are a kid and you have a mission

You are a kid and you don't have a mom.

______

Neuvillette hasn't seen Hydro Archon before. He heard about them.

Loud, boisterous, attention seeker (with term 'spoiled brat' whispered in the dark alleys).

Today, he would see them for the first time.

When he was called in the room, where Hydro Usurper would meet with him, Neuvillette braced himself, before entering.

At first, he thought, that room was empty. He couldn't see Hydro Archon anywhere. Then his gaze fall on the child, that were sitting on the couch before a small table, full of treats. He could feel it. Child have traces of divinity.

'That child are Hydro Archon?'

Meanwhile, child struck a little pose.

"Are you speechless, Monsieur Neuvillette? I can't blame you. You are in the presence of The brightest Star of Fontaine!"

Neuvillette's eyes widen.

'Why Hydro Usurper were so young?'

Meanwhile, child waved their hand.

"I know, that you would gladly spend hours admiring me, but, you will have enough time for that! Should we discuss your new job as Chief Justice, Monsieur Neuvillette?"

Neuvillette slowly nodded.

"We should..."

________

Your room in Palais Mermonia was a dream come true for any children. Tons of toys, children books, big bad you can jump on. You need something else? You could always ask for it, and it will be delivered to your doorstep.

Everyone loves the Biggest Celebrity of Fontaine. Child Archon deserve only best things.

Among all of your toys, you only loved three.

Three plush animals.

During the first hundred years of your performance, you played pirates, adventures and theater with them.

During the second century of your performance, you played school with them.

During the third century of your performance, you played explorers with them.

During the fourth century of your performance, you read books to them.

During the fifth century of your performance, you cried yourself to sleep, while hugging your favorite three toys.

__________

Neuvillette was in his office. He had some time to take a quick break.

He was holding his glass, full of water from The Fountain of Lucine. Some melusines decided to bring his a bottle of Fountain's water. Surprisingly, they also saw Hydro Archon with their hands in the Fountain. They quickly left, when they saw melusines near.

Neuvillette was thinking.

By all means, Neuvillette shouldn't like Hydro Archon.

[Y/N] have his elemental authority.

[Y/N] were loud, boisterous and snotty.

[Y/N], while not being The First, still were one of the Seven Usurper.

But Neuvillette can't bring himself to hate the kid, or be angry at them.

They were just a kid. There were no reason to waste his anger on them. Neuvillette won't be surprised, if Hydro Archon won't fight, if Neuvillette decides to challenge them for hydro authority.

Neuvillette took the first sip.

He was flooded with emotions.

Emotions of a very lonely and sad child. Neuvillette froze. It never happened before. [Y/N]... Were it you? Were it your emotions?

Neuvillette drank the rest of the glass.

Then the remaining water from the bottle.

He returned to his work. But young hydro archon were still on his mind.

__________

You were attending an opera performance in Opera Epiclese. Neuvillette refused the invitation, pretending, that he had some important work to do.

It was the truth. But, his work wasn't connected to the court.

Neuvillette closed the door in your room behind him. Neuvillette wasn't supposed to be here, in your room. But he wanted to see, with his own eyes, how you lived. And why you were so sad.

The room was big, full of everything, that a child could ever want or need.

Yet, everything looked too new. Too clean. Like you weren't using anything in your room.

Except for three well-worn plush toys (Ball Octopus, Bubbly Seahorse and Armored Crab) on your bed. The traces of countless repairs clearly visible on the stuffed animals.

Neuvillette looked at your bookshelves. There was a common theme in all of your books. In them, at the end, main characters will get a family. A loving parents or older siblings.

'Lonely Archon. Lonely child...'

Dragons looked after their young. In some cases, they looked after each other dragonets.

Hydro Dragon has never looked after young dragonets. But, he also hasn't lived among humans.

Neuvillette has lived among humans for five hundred years now.

Maybe, it was time to took in a child.

___________

The cat you met on the street was fluffy and playful. You can't help, but smile. Animals were good. Animals were great.

But, you can't focus entirely on the cat. One thought was bothering you.

Something strange was happening with Neuvillette. It looked like, he was looking after you? He sent warm meals to you through melusines, ordered guards to bring more blankets to your room, shut down annoying reporters... He even put a scarf around your neck that day, when temperature in Opera Epiclese were colder, than usual.

If you were honest, he always scared you a little. You don't want to think, what he will do with you, when your performance will be over. He looked distant and hard to approach.

So why he was so worried about you? Your loud attitude didn't change, so, why Neuvillette suddenly decided to take care of you?

The cat's loud meow interrupted your thoughts. It hissed and dashed away from you. You reach your hand towards it.

"Wait! Can we play some more?!"

Then a shadow fall on you.

__________

Neuvillette was equally worried and annoyed.

[Y/N] were late. They were never late before. They, despite being loud, dramatic and childish (for a five hundred-year-old archon), were responsible and punctual.

So, either something happened, that kept them late, or they overslept.

Neuvillette tapped out a simple rhythm on the tabletop with his fingers. In terms of inner and outer politics, legal proceedings and all other "Running the nation" business, he did most of the job, but [Y/N] still remain the most important figure and their participation was necessary.

Making a decision, he raised up from his chair and left the office.

A few minutes later, he climbed the stairs to the top floor of Palais Mermonia and stood at the door of their room.

Ceasth and Enghien¹, two melusines, that were guarding the door (recently, Neuvillette find it impossible, if not outright preposterous, to let humans guard [Y/N]'s room or kid themselves. Hydro Sovereign's child should be protected by a dragon, vishap or new sort of Hydro vishap), didn't notice him at first. They were whispering to each other, looking distressed. They didn't even realize, that Neuvillette was here, until he cleared his throat.

Melusines' ears perked up, they turned their heads in unison towards Neuvillette. Ceasth's tail nervously twitched.

"Monsieur Neuvillette! Good morning! Just in time, we were ready to go into your office."

Neuvillette frowned slightly.

"Did something happened with [Y/N]? Why they are late?"

Neuvillette tried not to roll his eyes, when both melusines looked appalled by how he addressed the archon.

Recently, Neuvillette not only stopped trusting people with protecting his kid. He couldn't bring himself to think about [Y/N] as an archon. It leads to some awkward moments, when he called [Y/N] by their name and without any title (both official and non-official) in someone else's company. He still remembered Clorinde's pale face, when she heard Neuvillette blatant disrespect. Even melusines, who, admittedly, weren't big fans of Hydro Archon, looked disturbed. A few times his tongue slipped, and he called [Y/N] by their name, when they worked together. Kid either choose to let it slide, or didn't pay too much attention to Neuvillette's words.

But right now, he has no time to deal with cultural shock. He leaned forward, looked straight at melusines. He repeated, slowly and clearly.

"Did something happened with [Y/N]?"

Enghien licked her lips, rubbing her hands.

"Yesterday they came back late. And they were... in distress. They didn't eat, and just stayed in their room. I don't know if they managed to sleep."

Ceasth didn't wait for Neuvillette to ask the next question.

"They were crying. There were some noise, coming from the room. Like Lord² [Y/N] were moving something. There also were sounds of something hitting the glass and talking. I couldn't make out the words, but the tone was... desperate... And now... Better, if you see it on your own, Monsieur Neuvillette."

Neuvillette's blood felt, like it froze. Crying, someone made [Y/N] cry...

Ceasth, obvious to Neuvillette's emotions, turned around, knocking on the door. She raised her voice, so [Y/N] would hear her.

"Lord [Y/N]! Please..."

The loud cry interrupted her.

"Go a-away! I-I w-won't g-go out!"

The voice ended up in sobbing. Neuvillette fight the urge to knock down the door.

His kid, his dragonet were in distress. His kid, his dragonet need their father!

Neuvillette spoke slowly, keeping his emotions in check.

"Caeth, Enghiene, please, leave us. I will deal with the situation."

Melusines looked at each other, but turned away from the door without questions. Waiting until the couple disappeared around the corner, Neuvillette knocked on the door.

Immediately, the voice followed.

"I s-said, go a-away! I will s-stay h-here!"

Neuvillette's voice was soft.

"[Y/N], I promise, I won't make you leave your room. But, please, let me come in. I want to make sure, that you are okay."

[Y/N] didn't answer. Neuvillette waited for a few seconds, before putting a hand on the handle.

"[Y/N], I am coming in."

Still no answer. Neuvillette pressed the door handle. Thankfully, it wasn't locked.

The room didn't change much since his last visit. It was a kid's dream come true, with everything being too new.

But the once tidy room were a mess.

All toys, blankets, pillows and chairs were gathered in a heap in the corner of the room.

From the depths of the makeshift shelter, a pair of frightened eyes, reddened from tears, looked at Neuvillette.

________

Sometimes, you wished, that your mom Focalors didn't give you a mission.

You wanted a family and wanted to have friends.

Despite everything, you were just a kid.

You tried, you really tried to do your best. To be a good actor.

Crying yourself to sleep was enough for you to keep your emotions in check. Until yesterday.

A Scary Monster attacked you. Scary Monster tried to kill you.

You don't remember, how you managed to escape and got to your room.

Only in your room you get a small break.

You cried. You were scared and terrified. Scared of Monster, that almost killed you.

Whatever you look, you saw Monster.

You didn't feel safe. You made a shelter from everything you could move into the corner. In a small breaks, you were hitting the mirror in your room, where four centuries ago you saw her. And you begged.

"M-mom! P-please, I am scared! P-please, mom, I-I don't want to be an archon a-anymore. I don't like that game! P-please, m-mom, I... I want a hug! Mom, there is a scary Monster in Fontaine! It almost killed me! M-mom..."

She didn't come. She didn't appear in your room, or in the mirror. She didn't say, that she won't let anyone hurt you, that you will be okay.

You were alone. You were alone for the last four centuries.

You didn't sleep that night. And couldn't bring yourself to leave your room.

You tried to force yourself to leave the room. You tried to tell yourself, that you have an important task.

You didn't listen.

There was a Monster outside.

And it was searching for you

______

Neuvillette's heart aches, seeing his kid so scared and vulnerable. He carefully approached the shelter, and big tearful eyes watched his every step.

Neuvillette stopped before the shelter, sitting on the floor, making himself look smaller, more approachable. He slowly extended both hands towards the frightened child. They whimpered, curling into a ball. Neuvillette could see [Y/N] hugging a familiar plush Ball Octopus. Bubbly Seahorse and Armored Crab were also here, flanking the scared child.

"P-please, leave me alone." [Y/N] trembled, not looking at Neuvillette. "I will work from here today."

Neuvillette's frown deepen. There should be something he can do to make the kid calm down.

Neuvillette looked around. His gaze stopped on a familiar bookshelf, full of books about kids having families and getting ones.

A foggy memory surfaced on his mind.

A century ago, there was a relatively popular children's play in Mondstadt. A musical about a family having a happy life and going on adventures together.

There was a short Teyvat tour. In Fontaine, they were performing in Opera Epiclese.

[Y/N] watched all performances they had. Moreover, some melusines whispered about seeing Hydro Archon sneaking around the place, where acting troupe were practicing.

Neuvillette wasn't interested in children's plays. He barely remembered the tunes. But his kid needed it.

He started humming. One of the songs from the play, which mother sang to her children.

He didn't remember much. But now, repeating the melody over and over, he started to remember the tune.

[Y/N] stopped shaking. They were silently watching Neuvillette, tears running down kid's cheeks.

Neuvillette, still humming, extended his arms towards [Y/N] again.

This time they moved. With all of their three favorite plushies, they crawled towards Neuvillette. They left the shelter, letting Neuvillette see the unkempt appearance of normally tidy child.

Without letting their toys go, [Y/N] reached towards Neuvillette.

Still humming the lullaby, he hugged them, and slowly stand up, trying not to drop them and their toys.

He was holding them with one hand, while slowly petting their head with the other.

He put his chin on top of kid's head. Their hair was unkept, but fluffy.

[Y/N] were sobbing.

Neuvillette didn't speak, preferring to hum the melody. He managed to recall not only the whole motive, but, even some verses.

His voice never sounded so warm before.

"...My, beloved child please stay here, in my arms. While, you're still small and fragile I, will keep you safe from harm.."³

[Y/N] stopped sobbing. Now they were sitting here, with their face hidden in Neuvillette's chest.

Neuvillette didn't speak. He sang the song a few more times, before asking.

"Little one, tell me, who made you so upset? Your dad will punish them. Your dad will make sure, that no one will hurt you."

A pair of [e/c] eyed stared at Neuvillette.

______

You are supposed to be an archon.

A loud, boisterous god.

Lord of All Waters, Kindreds, Peoples, and Laws. God of justice.

But you weren't them. They are her titles.

Titles, that you supposed to pretend to have.

You are supposed to be strong. You should yell at Neuvillette. You should chew him out for braking the subordination.

You were a God of Fontaine.

You were a liar, who would probably be kicked out on the streets the morning moment the lie is discovered.

And who would probably still be kicked out, when That Trial is over.

You didn't want to think about it. You wanted to think, that after the prophecy is averted, and you will be free to live your own life, they will appear.

Your family.

Your dad, who will protect you, and who will take you on travels.

Your mom, who will give you warm hugs and sing you lullabies.

You will live in a small cozy cottage. You will attend school, play with friends, get good grades.

And your family will love you.

But, what if it was just a lie? What if no one will be here? What if you will be alone. Forever.

You should yell at Neuvillette, who sang you a lullaby. You should chew him out for wanting to be your dad.

You didn't want to do it. You will let his disrespectful attitude slide. Just for a bit.

You are just a kid, right? Y-you...

You wanted to have a family just for a bit. A protective father.

"Monster... I was attacked by a monster...⁴ I just wanted to play with a cat... I didn't do anything wrong! And then monster..."

You were still crying. Neuvillette tighten his hug. He fought the urge to growl. He didn't want to scare you.

He caught his reflection in the window's glass.

His eyes became even more dragon-like. Slits of pupils became even thinner, irises became dark-purple, and scleras became light-purple.

He didn't growl, but he did bare his teeth. His canines became sharp, too sharp to be human teeth. Dragon's fangs. Neuvillette wondered if they were sharp enough to tear apart the monster.

Not now. He should make sure, that his dragonet are safe.

_____

"Don't be mistaken, Monsieur Neuvillette, I do respect you. Her Royal Highness the Tsaritsa view you as an embodiment of Fontaine's Laws and Justice. However, I can't help, but wondering, what keeps Lord [Y/N] so busy? They have been missing official diplomatic meetings. Is Fontaine trying to send a message? Maybe, Snezhnaya became too insignificant in eyes of Hydro Archon. So insignificant, that Hydro Archon didn't care about meeting with a diplomat in person."

Arlecchino looked at him above the teacup. Neuvillette's face was emotionless. He waited for her to take a sip.

"Mademoiselle Arlecchino, don't you think, that you are crossing the line? Or did Cryo Archon make the most rude and mindless donkeys Snezhnayan diplomats?"

Arlecchino coughed, choking on a tea. Neuvillette's face still was emotionless, but he was delighted. Because, if she was the monster, who attacked his dragonet, she deserved nothing, but pain.

"Lord [Y/N] decided to spend all their time on solving the prophecy. The fate of a nation is more important, than a little dispute over Snezhnayan harbinger."

Arlecchino finally caught her breath.

"It's... not a little dispute. Childe was arrested for some unknown reasons, Fontaine didn't do anything to investigate his case, and you are refusing to let us investigate. One would think, that Fontaine want to cut ties with Snezhnaya."

Neuvillette looked through the window. His thoughts were far away. He was thinking about a home, far away from the capital. About small pound at the front yard with otters. About cozy rooms. And about his little dragonet. What were you doing right now? Were you reading? Were you playing? He hopped, that you weren't crying or trembling with fear. Because you were afraid, that monster will attack you again.

Three days ago he got you away from Palais Mermonia. He took you in his own house. It was secure, no one knew where it was. He promised, that you will be safe there. There was everything you will ever need. Cozy room, toys, books. Friendly otters, tasty food.

A good place to raise a dragonet.

And while dragonet are safe in their nest, Dragon Dad will hunt.

He didn't care, that you don't know who exactly attacked you. He would find out.

"Fortress of Meropide isn't under Fontaine's jurisdiction. Lord [Y/N] and I can't order Duke Wriothesley to release your colleague. Either spoke with Duke directly, or wait for Marechaussee Phantom to investigate his case. And stop lecturing me on how to run a nation."

He looked directly in Arlecchino's eyes.

"Now, I believe, that we have nothing else to discuss."

Harbinger stayed silent. With a nod, she stood up.

"We will continue our discussion later, Monsieur Neuvillette."

When she left, Neuvillette whispered.

"We will, if you are the one, who hurt my dragonet."

------

Neuvillette didn't really want to help Arlecchino or Childe. But he did ask Traveler and Paimon to get to Fortress of Meropide just to get make that annoying harbinger to shut up.

It took them a few days to learn about Childe's disappearance. However, they only decided to give a full report to Neuvillette after their month-long sentence was over. Neuvillette wasn't paying attention to their report. He was checking the list of names he made.

All Fontainians, all melusines, all tourists and diplomats. Everyone could have been the one, who attacked [Y/N] a month ago. Some names were crossed. He checked their alibis, and they were innocent. He still has a lot of names in his list.

"Oh, Monsieur Neuvillette, [Y/N] were always an Archon, right?" Paimon's question caught Neuvillette's attention. He looked at flying fairy, raising an eyebrow. Paimon was obvious to Neuvillette's confusion, and to Aether's 'Paimon, no' whispers.

"Of course they always were. What a strange question."

Neuvillette return to his list. Paimon, still obvious to Aether's whispers, explained.

"The Knave told us, that [Y/N] might be a liar. They don't have a gnosis."

Neuvillette dropped his pen. He slowly looked at Paimon again. Fairy start explaining, while Aether just rubbed his forehead in defeat.

"What?" His mouth was dry. He could barely utter that one word.

"Well, you see... One month ago she tried to get the Hydro Gnosis..."

One month ago... When [Y/N]...

"...She waited, when [Y/N] were alone..."

His child, after another nightmare filled night was crying, while he was hugging them...

His eyes became more draconic...

"...they didn't fight, only begged to be spared..."

They again barricaded all windows in the house. Afraid, that one day monster will return...

Fangs broke the skin of his lips, filling his mouth with metallic taste of blood...

"...there were no gnosis, but they survived..."

They were spooked by a snapped twig, thinking, that monster was coming...

Sharp claws shredded the useless list...

"... perhaps, they just cursed. Maybe, if we face Lord [Y/N] in court..."

JUDGE [Y/N]? HIS LITTLE DRAGONET? HYDRO SOVEREIGN'S CHILD? WHAT THESE PESTS THINK THEY ARE?!

"OUT!!!"

Neuvillette's roar shook Palais Mermonia, and terrified Aether and Paimon ran away.

Neuvillette, now more of a beast, than a human, sank his claws in the table.

Arlecchino. She was his target after all.

The hunt was on.

-----

Next few days Neuvillette couldn't look for Arlecchino. Poisson was flooded with Primordial Sea waters. People start demanding to see [Y/N], who still were staying in his home.

During days Neuvillette was dealing with aftermath if the flood.

At nights, he was taking care of [Y/N]. Their nightmares finally became less frequent. They even started to play outside more often.

There was a trial scheduled for today. Surprisingly, details of the trial were hidden from him.

For some reason, instead of a trial, Lyney and Lynette were performing. Neuvillette was ready to leave, when twins performed their last trick.

On a stage three people appeared.

Traveler, Paimon and utterly terrified you.

-----

You were just taking a small walk. You wanted to pick up some flowers to make a flower crown for Neuvillette.

The last month were scary, but you have never been happier before. You felt like a normal child who have the greatest dad in the world.

Somehow, you were found by people of Fontaine. They were shouting. Demanding answers from you.

You ran. Traveler found you and take you to a safe place.

In some cruel twist of fate, he got you into the court.

Aether's voice wasn't loud, but for you, it sounded like yelling.

"Your honor, I would like to charge Lord [Y/N] as a fraud who's never been the Archon in the first place."

You were trying to keep yourself together. You can't let them see your fear.

Neuvillette could barely contain his anger.

"I won't tolerate baseless accusations in the Court. There will be no trial today."

"But, Monsieur Neuvillette, by Fontaine laws..."

She still was talking, but neither you nor Neuvillette heard her.

Arlecchino was standing on the stage.

You start to back away, until your back was pressed directly to Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale.

You recognize her.

Monster finally found you.

You felt alone. Monster was here. Fontaine hated you. You wanted to return to Neuvillette's home. To you home.

You heard familiar whisper. As usual, it was coming from the Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale.

'You can do it, [Y/N]!'

No. You can't do it. You hated doing it. You hated Focalor for putting you through centuries of torture. You hated people of Teyvat, who didn't want to see a kind, open archon, who demanded to see a loud, spoiled Star of Fontaine. You hated Arlecchino. You lost your sleep because of her. You lived in fear because of her.

You had no friends. You had no family.

Neuvillette was the only one, who cared. He was the only one, who saw real you.

You found your voice. You scream.

Neuvillette's blood boiled. She was here. She was scaring his child.

He didn't hear voices in the court room. He didn't hear her voice.

But there was one thing he heard.

"D-dad!" his child called, and Neuvillette moved.

Neither him nor you noticed, how Indemnitium in Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale start going wild.

-------

Heavy body crushed into Arlecchino. Neuvillette's boot immediately pressed her head was against the stage.

"I will inlaid your broken body on Hydro Archon's statue!"

Neuvillette didn't care about screams of audience. He didn't care about narwhal, that was ready to consume everyone in sight.

He only cared about killing the harbinger.

Suddenly, the room felt with light. Noises were gone.

Narwhal was gone.

Arlecchino was gone.

[Y/N] were gone.

Only her.... Hydro Usurper was here.

Hydro Sovereign and Hydro Archon looked at each other.

----

Neuvillette listened to her explanation of her plan. When she finished, he spoke. His lips barely moved.

"You made them cry."

Focalor hide her gaze. She looked guilty.

"I know. And I am sorry for that. I wanted to save Fontaine. If there was another way..."

Sharp talons pierced Focalor's shoulders. Neuvillette growled, showing his sharp fangs.

"You made my kid suffer, Focalor! Knew, that today you aren't being judged for your predecessor's sins. Today, you are being judged for your own sins. For every single one of [Y/N]'s tears."

Neuvillette shoved her away. He was watching her, like a hawk.

"They called for you. They called you 'mother'." Neuvillette didn't blink.

"I... am not their mother..." Focalor's voice was weak. There was no use in saying anything. She could see it.

Her decision in taking away more powers, in making child a false archon, lead to this. At first, she thought, that hydro dragon might find [Y/N] adorable, and it will save Fontaine.

He did find [Y/N] adorable.

But, it looks like Fontaine's fate won't be as good as she hoped it would be.

Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale fell on her.

Hydro Sovereign's authority was restored.

-----

You stand before The Fountain of Lucine.

Primordial Sea waters left streets of Fontaine.

Instead, they became walls, that were separating Fontaine from the rest of Teyvat.

People of Fontaine, lost, confused, were leaving the Opera Epiclese.

It wasn't the end.

You were alone. You felt lost.

What should you do now? Where should you go?

Suddenly, you were picked up. Iudex of Fontaine was cradling you. He had a smile, you never saw on his face before.

"There you are, small dragonet! I am so glad, you didn't get lost. Let's go home, my sweet. I believe, I have to make up for a five hundred years of childhood and family love. I will take a good care of you, I promise! I will teach you about using Hydro powers, you will have everything you need, you will never cry again."

He started walking, while still carrying you. You closed and opened your mouth.

"I don't have a vision... And I won't live that long."

Neuvillette hummed. Something heavy landed in your stomach.

A hydro gnosis.

" I will share my hydro authority with you, my little dragonet. Oh, and don't worry, [Y/N]. Everything will be fine from now on. You will never see people, that want to hurt you. Now you can enjoy your life to the fullest."

Gnosis glow. It succumbed into your chest. You felt powers running through you.

You felt, that something drastic will happen in Fontaine.

And you didn't care.

------

You were back home. Some melusines were keeping your company, while you were playing outside.

Everywhere you look, you saw walls of water, that still were separating Fontaine from the rest of Teyvat.

Neuvillette left, saying, that he must deal with the monster.

------

Hydro Sovereign powers over the Primordial Sea were exceptional. He could easily give people of Fontaine a temporary forgives for their sins, or could easily create walls, made of Primordial Sea waters.

He could also easily make that walls a normal water again. And take away the forgiveness.

"Bring me the harbinger, if you don't want to dissolve in waters of the Primordial Sea."

She was here. Standing before him.

For the first time in ages, he was in his full dragon form. His talons grabbed her.

Hydro dragon spoke, and his voice made the earth quake.

"You are guilty. Pay for your crimes with your blood."

He was a dragon, but his horns weren't that sharp. In the water teeth and claws were much more useful for hunting.

To impale someone with his horns will be a torture. For an impaled.

And Neuvillette would love every second of it.

------

Natlan was a nation of dragons.

Place, where humans and saurians live together.

Fontaine became a nation of a dragon and his dragonet.

Neuvillette, Hydro Sovereign, ruled over the nation. He was a judge and an executor.

But you were the one who were sitting on the throne.

A child, who were adored by Hydro Dragon. Child, for whom Neuvillette will flood Teyvat.

Perhaps, you were supposed to do something about it. To tell Neuvillette, that he is wrong.

But you won't do it.

Not when he was taking care of you, when he was making sure that you are happy.

You always wanted to have a family. And, at that point of your life, you didn't care, if Fontaine's freedom was the price for your happiness.

---

¹ Quest-exqlusive melusines from canon. Ceasth is from Sigewinne's story quest, Enghiene is from "Lil' Fungi's Fun-Tastic Fiesta" and "Dance of Resolute Will" events.

²Headcannon time! It seems, "Lord" title for Archons are gender-neutral. We have Lord Barbatos, who, despite having an androgynous statue, is a male for in-universe people (see 'Sub-Space Boulder: Verdant Peak' description), and Greater Lord Rukkhadevata with Lesser Lord Kusanali, two females. I didn't want to use canonical Regina, because it is a female title.

³https://youtu.be/7bXnWKxdry8?si=UujvicBmoMmicdRU

⁴ Headcannon time. It seems, that at first Furina didn't recognize, who attacked her until she met Arlecchino later during official meeting.

[wolfytae-exe]

The feelings box. (S)

summary: In which sending a complaint letter on valentine’s day doesn’t go as planned.

warning: old friends trope, soft sex, sub! reader, soft dom! Beomgyu, big dick Beomgyu agenda, raw penetration (Wrap it up yall), biting

pairing: Idol! Beomgyu x Bestfriend! Reader

wc: 3.4k

this is for @silvergyus Valentine’s day event!

It feels like it’s been forever since you’ve seen your best friend Beomgyu. You’ve known him for years, since your second year in high school to be exact. Now he’s super famous and doesn’t have much time for you anymore. You try to be excited for him, really, but you can’t help but feel a little bitter about how little time you spend with him these days.

It’s like everything has changed, and it’s hard not to miss the days when things were simpler—when your biggest concern was whether the tteokbokki was spicy enough, or what crazy thing you’d end up doing next on a random Tuesday night. You miss those nights. The ones when you’d sit on the floor, sharing food, laughing at the stupidest things, and just talking about life’s bullshit. From your shitty family to the dumbest inside jokes, it all felt so easy back then. You could always count on him to brighten up even your worst days. The kind of friendship that didn’t need much effort—it just was.

But as much as you try to keep your feelings in check, there’s one thing you can't seem to shake off. About a year after meeting him, you started to develop a small crush on Beomgyu. At first, it was something you could ignore, convinced it was just a silly phase that would fade. But the more you got to know him, the more you couldn’t help but feel drawn to him. He was charming and magnetic, and it wasn’t hard to see why girls were falling over themselves for him. You tried to push it aside, telling yourself it was nothing because, honestly, what were the chances he’d ever feel the same? Besides, you couldn’t exactly be the friend with feelings; that would be messy. Still, every time his smile lights up a room or when he laughs at something only the two of you get, you feel that familiar tug in your chest, and it makes it even harder to ignore.

This is where your trusty “feelings box” comes in. A stupid old shoebox you’ve had since middle school, tucked away under your bed like some kind of emotional safety net. It's full of notes about all the things you've never said. Some to your family, some to old classmates who never really understood you, some to random strangers who pissed you off, and of course, a few to Gyu. You can’t help but smile bitterly as you think about it. The notes are a mix of silly frustrations and things you never had the guts to share, but they’ve been your secret outlet for years. "God, I hate Valentine’s Day," you mutter under your breath, slouching back in your chair as you stare at the box.

All day, your friends have been buzzing about the upcoming day. They’re all so excited about Valentine’s Day—chattering about their plans, detailing every little moment of how their boyfriends asked them out, and the little gifts they’re getting. It’s all so… perfect. They don’t even seem to notice how much it stings to hear it. You should be happy for them, really. But as you sit at your desk, staring at the clutter of papers and half-hearted doodles, you can’t help but feel a little left out. Not that you were expecting anything grand—after all, who needs a day dedicated to love when you’ve got your trusty shoebox for all the things you’ll never say? Still, part of you can’t help but wonder what it would be like to have someone who’d think of you on a day like this, someone who’d make your heart flutter for once, instead of just filling up your box.

You pull out your notepad, the one you’ve been scribbling in for years, and start writing a letter to Beomgyu. It’s cathartic, this release of everything you’ve been holding in—how much you miss him, how much you wish he wasn’t so busy with his new life. You pour your frustrations onto the paper, wishing things could go back to the way they used to be. You write about how it feels like he’s slipping further away, how he’s always surrounded by people now, and how there are moments when you feel like a stranger to him. But more than anything, you write about him—the little things you notice, the things you’ve never said out loud. How he makes people feel special without even trying, how his laugh lingers in your mind long after he’s gone, how he’s always been your Beomgyu, even when the rest of the world started claiming pieces of him.

And then, almost without thinking, you reach for a fresh sheet of paper. Your hand hesitates for a moment before the words begin to flow—raw, unfiltered, meant for no one’s eyes but your own. A confession you never planned to send.

Beomgyu,

I hate Valentine’s Day. Every year, it’s the same—flowers, chocolates, grand gestures, and yet none of it ever means anything to me. But if it were you… maybe it would.

I don’t even know when it started. Maybe it was the first time you stayed up all night on the phone with me when I was feeling like crap. Or maybe it was when you showed up at my door with tteokbokki after my worst exam just because you “had a feeling” I needed it. Or maybe it’s always been there, lingering quietly, waiting for me to notice.

But I do notice. I notice everything about you. The way your voice softens when you’re tired, the way your nose scrunches when you laugh too hard, the way you always find a way to make people feel like they matter. You don’t even try, and yet you pull people in like gravity. Like you pulled me in.

And I hate it. I hate that I can’t shake this feeling, that every time I see you, I wonder what it would be like if you looked at me the way I look at you. I hate that I know you don’t. Because why would you? You’re Beomgyu—the boy with a thousand admirers, the boy too busy chasing his dreams to notice the way I hold my breath whenever you’re close.

I wish I could say this out loud. I wish I could be one of those people who confesses without fear, who risks it all for love. But I can’t. Because if I say it, if I admit it to you, I might lose the one thing I never want to let go of—you. And that’s a risk I can’t take.

So instead, I’ll write it here, in this stupid shoebox full of things I’ll never say.

—Y/N

When you finish, it’s like a weight has been lifted. The air feels a little easier to breathe, but your heart still feels heavy in a way you can’t shake. You push the paper aside and glance down at the other half-finished letter to Gyu on your desk. You’ve been putting it off for weeks now, but tonight, with everything on your mind, you finally decide to finish it. You don’t want to leave anything unsaid, but you also don’t want to make things weird. So you keep it simple—lighthearted, nothing too serious. You end the letter with a casual sign-off, your name, and a smiley face, as though nothing’s changed. A few days later, you slip it into the mail, not thinking too hard about it. You’re not confessing anything, just telling him you miss him. Simple, easy. That’s all.

A few days later, Valentine’s Day rolls around, and you’re just planning on treating it like any other day. You didn’t expect anything to change, especially not after everything that’s been on your mind. So, you decided to take matters into your own hands—getting yourself some chocolates and settling in for a scary movie marathon. Romance movies? Yeah, not the best idea today. You weren’t about to sit through a bunch of perfect couples and heartwarming confessions while you were still trying to wrap your head around everything. The rain taps against your window, adding to the quiet mood, as you pour yourself a cup of hot cocoa, curling up in your blanket. You start eating your chocolates, letting the sweetness balance out the tension in your chest. The movie plays in the background, but it’s really just the comfort of being alone, of doing something for yourself, that brings peace. You focus on the suspense of the movie, pushing aside the little sting of loneliness, telling yourself that it’s just another day.

A sudden knock on your door makes you jump, the sound slicing through the quiet of your room. At first, you think it might just be part of the movie, or maybe the rain hitting the window. But then another knock—definitely not the movie, and definitely not the rain. “Oh god, now what?” you mutter to yourself as you pull yourself to your feet. “Coming!” you yell, sliding on your fuzzy bear slippers with a sigh. You shuffle over to the door in your cozy sweater and loose gray sweatpants, your hair a bit messy from the comfort of the night. It’s not like you were expecting visitors today, so you’re not exactly prepared for anyone showing up at your door.

“Gyu?” you gasp loudly as you swing the door open. His face is oddly serious, a look you swear you’ve never seen before, like there’s something on his mind that he’s not sure how to say. You’re frozen for a moment, trying to figure out why he’s standing there, looking at you like that. “Wh-what are you doing here?!?” you almost yell, too surprised to contain the shock in your voice as your eyes lock with his. His hair is drenched in water, his jacket soaked from the rain, and his expression is unreadable. Why is he looking at you like that? The silence between you both stretches on, each second more suffocating than the last. You’re standing there, frozen in place, your heart pounding, feeling like panic has replaced all the blood in your veins.

After a few agonizing moments of silence, he starts to turn away, and that’s when your instincts kick in. Without thinking, you reach out and grab the sleeve of his jacket, your fingers curling into the fabric. “No, Gyu, pl—” You don’t even get to finish before he closes the distance, crashing his lips against yours. It’s sudden and overwhelming, and everything you thought you knew about him and about yourself goes out the window in an instant. He pulls you out into the rain, but honestly, you couldn’t care less. The cold drops on your skin are nothing compared to the warmth flooding through your chest at the feeling of him against you. All the confusion, all the panic—it fades into the background, replaced by something else entirely.

Once you finally pull apart he whispers out “you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” You stand there in shock completely overwhelmed by emotion. How do you even begin to explain to him everything you’re feeling. It’s one thing to write all your feelings on a piece of paper and shove them into a box under your bed, but now you have to try and say them? You can’t do that. You can barely think. So you don’t. You reach out and pull him down into an even deeper kiss. Soft breathy moans escape your lips as you feel him pull you closer to him. Your head is spinning with emotion and desire. Desire to touch him. Desire to show him everything without ever having to say anything at all.

As you pull away from the kiss, you're both left gasping for air. Gyu's eyes are wide with a mix of wonder and relief. The rain continues its relentless assault, soaking you both, but the warmth radiating off him is enough to keep you going. You run your fingers through his wet hair, marveling at how soft it feels against your skin. Your lips are tender, and swollen from the ferocity of the kiss, but you crave more. You lean in again, capturing his mouth with yours, desperate to convey every jumbled emotion swirling inside you. His hands find your waist, pulling you flush against him. Your heartbeats sync as your bodies mold together, the cold rain now a distant memory. The world around you fades away, leaving only the sound of raindrops hitting the pavement and the roar of your combined heartbeats.

You can’t believe what’s happening right now. As you kiss the two of you stumble into your room. He gently guides you down onto the bed. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ll ever touch” he mumbles before kissing you even deeper. Your sarcastic and witty demeanor is out the window. You can’t even think of anything other than how badly you’ve wanted this. It almost feels like a dream. “Are you sure?” he asks you softly. This is when you meet his eyes again. Seeing that same, idiot best friend you started falling for so long ago. “I’m sure Gyu,” you say in a playful yet sincere tone. His face softens at your confirmation.

His hands continue their path down your body. You’re too shy to make eye contact with him. The intensity of how he’s looking at you burning a pit into your stomach. You lift your hips as he pulls off your pants that are now soaked in more ways than one. Your embarrassment is there but you can’t make yourself care. His hands feel better on your skin than you ever could've imagined. He kisses you again. This time he slides his tongue into your mouth making you gasp into the kiss. You aren’t a virgin but this feels oddly similar to that feeling of having sex for the first time. It all feels so intense and so new. You tug on his hair, deepening the kiss. You need more. He wrestles with his belt and takes his now rock-hard cock out. You can’t help but joke “Who would’ve guessed” you say as you see how big he is. He chuckles and kisses you again. He gently guides himself inside you. “Holy shit-” you gasp at the sudden stretch of him pushing inside of you, it feels surreal to finally have him this close to you. You grip onto his shoulders, eyes closing in attempts to calm your heart and your head.

Once fully sheathed inside you, Gyu stills, savoring the sensation. He gazes into your eyes, searching for any sign of discomfort. “Do you need a minute?” He whispers softly while moving the fly-aways of your hair out of your face. You take a breath, trying to relax from the burning stretch before giving him a curt nod for him to keep going. Beomgyu takes it and pulls out before slowly beginning to move. Each thrust is careful, measured, as if he's trying to memorize the feeling of being connected to you. You moan softly, your hands clutching the sheets beneath you. The initial shock of his size quickly fades, replaced by pure ecstasy. You match his pace, rising to meet him, your bodies moving in a harmony that feels like it's been years in the making. The air between you crackles with electricity, every touch igniting sparks that travel throughout your entire being. The playfulness lingers in the form of whispered jokes and soft giggles, punctuating the increasingly intense moments of passion. It's a delicate dance of exploration and adoration.

With each stroke, Gyu becomes more confident, his movements growing bolder as he learns what drives you wild. You wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer, desperate to feel every inch of him. The room is filled with the sounds of your muffled moans and the rustling of the bed sheets. You're no longer shy about your desire, meeting his gaze with a hunger that matches his own. He leans down, capturing your lips once more, swallowing your gasps as the pleasure builds. It's raw, it's real, and it's everything you never realized you needed. Who knew this shit was real? You certainly didn’t. ‘How did I go from confessing my feelings to a shoebox to having sex with my best friend?’ you think to yourself. The feeling building in your stomach pulls your attention back to the intensity of your surroundings, The feeling of your chest pressed against his, his lips and teeth against your neck; leaving love bites, and the feeling of his thick cock sliding against your walls in the most dizzying way.

As your bodies intertwine, the tension between you reaches its peak. Gyu's pace quickens, matching the racing of your heart. You clutch onto him tightly, your nails digging into his back as the wave of pleasure crashes over you both. Your moans become louder, and his moans follow suit, filling the quiet space as you reach your climax together. The world seems to pause for a brief moment, the only things that matter is the pounding of your hearts and the feeling of him inside you. Then, as the ecstasy subsides, you collapse against each other, spent and satisfied. For a few seconds, there's nothing but heavy breathing and the sound of your hearts beating in sync.

The rain is still falling outside, tapping softly against the window, but neither of you care. Beomgyu’s hands cup your face, his lips lingering against yours like he’s afraid to let go. When he finally pulls back, his breath is uneven, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find the right words. “I—” He pauses, letting out a breathy laugh, shaking his head like he can’t believe what just happened. “I wasn’t supposed to do that yet.”

Your heart is still racing, but the panic from earlier has melted away, replaced by something warmer, steadier. You’re lying beside him now, wrapped up in the blankets, your fingers loosely tangled in the fabric of his shirt. The glow of your bedside lamp casts soft shadows across his face, and you can’t help but think how right this feels. “What do you mean yet?” you ask, voice quieter now, calmer. He sighs, shifting slightly so he’s closer to you, his arm draped over your waist. “I got your letter.” His eyes flicker to yours, gauging your reaction. “Not the one you meant to send, I’m guessing?” Instantly, heat rushes to your face. “Oh my god,” you groan, rolling onto your back to cover your face with your hands. “I knew I sent the wrong one.” Beomgyu chuckles, gently pulling your hands away. “Hey, don’t hide from me,” he says softly, his thumb brushing against your knuckles. “I read it. Every word.” His voice turns quieter, more serious. “And it wasn’t exactly what I expected… but it wasn’t unwelcome either.”

You blink up at him, confusion giving way to something else—hope. “What?” He exhales a small laugh, shaking his head. “I’ve liked you for so long, but I kept convincing myself I didn’t. I told myself it was just friendship, that I’d get over it, that you didn’t feel the same.” His expression is open, vulnerable, and it makes your heart ache in the best way. “But then I read that letter, and I realized… maybe I wasn’t the only one scared of ruining this.” The words settle over you, and suddenly, everything makes sense. You were never losing Beomgyu—not to fame, not to time, and certainly not to unspoken feelings. Instead, you’ve found something even better, something you were too afraid to reach for before. “I was scared too,” you admit, fingers tracing absent patterns against the fabric of his shirt. “Scared of losing you, scared of things changing. But Gyu… I don’t want to keep pretending.” His lips twitch into a soft smile, his arm tightening around you as he tugs you closer. There’s no more hesitation. No more hiding. Just warmth. Just him. He leans in again, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead before resting his against yours. “No more letters. No more hiding,” he whispers, his voice as familiar and comforting as ever. “Just us.” And as you nod, letting your fingers tangle with his, you realize the truth—this isn’t the end of something, it’s the start. You haven’t lost a friend. You’ve gained a love that’s always been there, just waiting for the right moment. “Just us,” you whisper back, smiling as the rain continues to fall outside.

[occasionalsnippets]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE EXPAND ON DAMIAN AND FD!MC'S RELATIONSHIP

like i know talia had told damian abt fd!mc,,, and alot of other stuff butnansjswjwnowns god i dont know how to articulate thoughts that well but

damian and fd!mc 🙏

— 🎭

Oopsies got derailed because nothing was really coming to mind....

Taglist: @dragondevinity, @lonely-star2044, @sheep-from-rad, @ilxandra, @thethingwiththefeathers, @star-wars-lycanwing-bat, @sackofsadstuff, @zonked-times, @paastaboi, @venfia, @fantasy-angelo, @linaisadream, @shirp-collector-of-fixations, @roseapov, @alittletiredcry

You and Damian are both your mother's child. You both carry what your mothers have taught you. The good, the bad, the messy and sharp. It's part of the reason the two of you get along.

Damian does not accept people readily. Even with the stories his mother tells him of you, he spends a good amount of time observing you for himself when he first arrives and especially after he finds you do not consider yourself family. What he finds is that-

You are only ever as close to others as you allow yourself to be.

You push and dig your nails into everyone's life whenever you want to. Becoming Robin whenever you feel is necessary, approaching his father and demanding for him to spend time with those under his wing (demanding him to be a father and not just a hero), arranging for Damian to "hang out" with his father's wards so they can "get along" and so on. You're everywhere. You'll mould everyone's relationship into what you want it to be, involve yourself to the degree you think is needed and then-

and then you leave.

You pull away. You linger in the periphery, watching as everything falls into place, like a director of a film who can never appear on the screen with the 'happy' family, hiding in the wings as the curtain call ends.

You can try to live in denial forever, you can come around to the manor every holiday, you can sleep in your room in the family wing, you can call yourself "Tim's sibling" and "a family friend" all you like but Damian craves more.

Sometimes he thinks you're selfless to the point of selfishness. And maybe he's selfish too, for wanting everything you've given him and more. The Al Ghuls have always been like that. His mother, his grandfather, himself.

Asdasldkhaslka listen, it's about how everyone, including Damian, takes comfort in your love, in knowing you're always there for them to fall back on. It's about how the love you keep giving makes it difficult for them to realize how you thought you weren't family until you said it out loud.

It's about how you can't accept the love you think isn't yours to take but you keep giving. It's a responsibility you tie yourself with. Maybe you think it'll make you worthy of being love, of actually existing, in this universe.

And it's about how Damian had thought that he was sent to his father for a purpose (becoming Robin) that he needed to fulfill in order to stay. And how he was shown that he didn't have to do anything to be loved. And about how he sees some parts of who he is meant to be in you.

You are his sister. He had already decided. And he wants to be your brother, wants your acknowledgement more than anything else you could give him.

So, stop pretending like everyone around you doesn't care about you, okay? And accept their love for what it is.

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

Whenever there's a line up event, one of the things that I'm starting to look forward to the most are the show's english names. They are always...interesting. Anyway, a lot of new stuff. They are certainly rivalling gmmtv in terms of content and the event itself. That was looooong and there were a LOT of announcements.

Before I go into new shows. We finally got a date for The Next Prince and it's April. Also Zomvivor has a new teaser and it will air...soon. Goddammit. Speaking of elusive air dates, Khemjira is also coming...soon. It's like they don't want me to be happy. I need all the horror. Your Sky of Us will be a special 3 episode event that will follow the characters into adulthood. I like the idea of seeing the couples after the show's hea so this should be nice. Now for everything else. I added link to the mdl pages and the trailers, so if you don't want my unsolicited opinions just click on the links below the pics.

[ MDL | Trailer ] Love Upon a Time - It's not exactly a new announcement but we finally got a pilot with the new cast and I really enjoyed it. I'm convinced that Net is one of those actors that can have chemistry with anyone so this should be good at least when it comes to the main couple. When it comes to fantasy thai bl, I never want to get my hopes too high because a lot of the time they tend to forgo internal narrative consistency for the sake of the romance, but either way, I will be watching this one.

[ MDL | Trailer ] Your Third - MaxNat romcom, why not? When it comes to the romance, I think they can pull it off, but the comedy? Not so sure. I don’t hate anything here, but I can’t say I really love anything either.

[ MDL | Trailer ] Mr.Fanboy - Well this should be interesting. I do like when bl goes a bit meta, so I'm looking forward to see what DMD has to say about this. AuAu and Save fans must be losing it to see them as leads, and I was surprised to see James. I thought he wasn't gonna be in any series for a while, but I'm not as well informed about these things. Interesting cast and concept. I will be tuning in.

[ MDL | Trailer ] You(r)Tuber - Do you see what I mean? These names kill me. Looks cute. Surprised to see Earth and First but nothing really excites me about this one. Oh wait, I'm wrong, there are pets and more importantly a cat. That makes me happy.

[ MDL | Trailer ] Duang With You - My crumbs have graduated and I'm screaming. I love everything about this, but honestly, I love TeeteePor. They are beautiful. I also love a shameless flirt that will thaw the heart of a brooder. So I'm winning either way.

[ MDL | Trailer ] Restart - This is giving Elite but with some extra bullying for good measure. It's also giving nakedness galore. DMD knows their audience. I'm guessing we will be seeing a lot of showers. I'm happy to see Tommy again. I'm not sure if this is exactly bl, but with the amount of naked boys in the pilot alone, might as well be.

[ MDL | Trailer ] Magic Lover – I guess it was only a matter of time for BL to start playing with magic. I mean, we're in our vampire season, so this was the next logical step. Anyway, ThomasKong are back. And Keng… I have to admit, very few actors illicit a strong reaction from me solely based on their looks, but Keng is one of them. That guy has an absolutely flawless face. I like that we have 3 different couples and I like fantasy and fated mates so I'm definitely on board.

[ MDL* | Trailer ] HUG E-Lhee The Musical - Ok, I LOVE musicals. Seriously. And let’s be real, when it comes to musicals, especially the more comedic ones, there’s always a built-in level of cringe. Which is fine. People randomly breaking into song pretty much guarantees that. But throwing BL into the mix, along with some folks who aren’t exactly great singers? That might just be a step too far for me. No shade, just a personal preference. (*no mdl page yet)

Also announced was another ThomasKong show, Unknown Lover, and a DMD Sitcom, หอตัวดี, with literally all the boys.

Well, that's everything from me. Obviously most of these will come in late 2025 and 2026. And despite everything I just said, I’ll probably still end up watching the first episodes of all the shows.

[wosov]

A tough pill to swallow - part 2

content warning:

blood (minor mention)

poor mental health

The relief you felt once you were out of Leah’s car was immediate but short-lived as you turned the corner to the changing room. You could quite clearly hear voices and although you couldn’t quite make out who they belonged to, you knew it would be too much for you to cope with. So, off you went to the bathrooms to hopefully get changed and allow yourself some time to hopefully shake out of this mood. After all, nobody deserved to be on the receiving end of that. 

Meanwhile, Leah had quickly gotten out of her car and managed to catch up with Beth and Katie. She needed advice and they seemed the best people to be able to offer that to her. So, with a deep breath she explained everything that had gone on. Your terrible mood this morning, the screaming match you had gotten into. The fact that the dark circles under your eyes made you look like you hadn’t slept in a week and that you just seemed to be getting more withdrawn by the minute. 

Katie and Beth listened intently both seeming to become just as concerned as Leah. Beyond everything, you had found a place in every single heart of your teammates with them looking out for you as one of their own. 

Katie was the first one to offer her thoughts. “Le, if i’m being honest the kid has seemed off lately.” Katie takes a deep breath before continuing on with her opinion. The seriousness in her demeanour, a stark contrast in her usual brash personality, made Leah really pause and listen. “I have to ask, do you think she is on drugs?” 

This question was not what Leah was expecting and Katie guessed it too, so she carried on trying to justify her thought.

“I mean it’s that the past few days she was really hyper and upbeat. Like unnervingly so and it… I guess it just made me wonder because I know her usual self is happy and cheeky but what I saw from her, I have only ever seen when people have been drunk or high. And now she just seems depressed and like she is going to snap at the slightest thing.” 

Katie’s words really made Leah stop and think and she hated to admit it but her theory did make a lot of sense. It would account for your strange moods and your more recent irritability. But this thought didn’t fill her with the comfort like she thought having a possible explanation would do. Instead it filled her with dread at the conversations she would have to have with not just you but the staff as well. And Katie sensed the unease building in Leah.

“Hey, I am probably wrong, y'know. It was just a thought I had, especially given how young the kid is. She may be trying to experiment or feeling pressure to fit in, I don’t know.” Katie desperately tried to make the situation better.

It was Beth that chimed in next with a sensible suggestion. “How about we all keep an eye on kiddo and ask the others if they have noticed anything before we confront her. If we go in all guns blazing then it will make the situation 10 times worse and we don’t even know what type of situation we are dealing with yet.”

Leah and Katie both agreed to that and they resumed their walk inside, mutual silence filling the air. 

After Katie had gone off to find Caitlin, Leah and Beth headed to the locker room but when they noticed you weren’t there confusion covered both of their faces. The only other logical place where you could be was the canteen and they knew you weren’t there, having passed it on the way to their current location. Leah quickly dumped her stuff into her locker before muttering to Beth that she was going to go check in the bathroom. Beth just nodded in response and began to get ready for training. It wasn’t long before Leah came back empty handed but just as they were about to start coming up with different places to search, the whistle blew signalling to the start of training. This filled Leah with worry, thinking you were going to be late for training so she didn’t know whether to be pleased or more concerned about you when she saw you were already kicking a ball about on the field away from where everyone had started to gather. 

It didn’t take long for Renee to realise this and after yelling a quick “Kiddo c’mon” you tossed the ball to the side and made your way over. All without lifting your head to meet your teammates. There were no cheeky jokes or remarks, no playful shoves or smirks. Just complete silence. 

Leah was definitely more concerned now. 

As they were nearing the end of their morning training session, the girls were in good spirits, playfully shoving each other and laughing. That was until Kyra made the decision to completely miss the social queues you were giving off and shove you. Fair enough her actions were completely innocent and on any other day you would’ve shoved her back and probably started play fighting in one way or another. But today, you weren’t expecting it and fell straight onto your front, your hands getting covered in mud as they reached out to break your fall. 

Kyra, still not picking up on your discomfort, started laughing and trying to start joking about with you. But you had well and truly snapped. Everything had suddenly come to fruition and you no longer felt in control of your own body. It all happened in an instant, one second you were on the floor the next second you had shot up from the ground before pushing Kyra over aggressively. 

As you stood over her, fists clenched and breathing heavy, you had no other feelings other than pure unfiltered anger and that anger needed a place to latch onto. Unfortunately for Kyra, it was her. 

The only other of your teammates that were in close vicinity were Laura Wienrother and Caitlin Foord and all they could think to do was watch on in shock and disbelief that your usual cheeky self would be capable of something like this. That was until Kyra (still in utter shock) managed to get back on her feet and you just completely lost it and swung at her. The action of your fist hitting Kyras face caused Laura to scream out in fear and Caitlin tried to restrain you in response. Key word being try, as you quickly fought free of her hold. However, Laura’s scream soon alerted the rest of the squad to the heated situation that was quickly unfolding back on the field and Leah had no hesitations before she was running over to grab and restrain you. She didn’t know what had happened to set you off like this, she just saw Kyra’s bloodied nose and your bloodied fist and she just took it upon herself to minimise the impact of your meltdown. 

She found herself quickly grabbing you by the waist in order to restrain you from causing any more harm to anybody else or yourself, begging you to calm down. 

As the others ran over to see what was happening, 

Kim was the one who quickly took charge of the situation. She made sure Kyra was being taken care of and had people to accompany her to the medical room before getting Katie to help Leah to restrain and calm you down. 

It took several minutes until you were no longer trying to actively claw your way out of Leah’s grip and the others weren’t sure whether you had calmed down or simply ran out of energy to carry on in your state. Either way, they were glad you seemed calmer and knew they had to get you back inside the changing room so you could clean up. But as Kim took in your current appearance she knew that would be easier said than done. 

You were currently catatonic, leaning heavily against Leah and unmoving. She was rocking you whilst whispering comforts and reassurances in your ear, although unsure whether you were actually hearing her and her arms were still securely wrapped around your small, fragile body. As if she was scared you would snap and try to flee again. Katie just watched on feeling helpless at the adamant pain you were in. 

Kim, however, was quick to nudge Katie to grab her attention so they could start coming up with a plan to get you inside and cleaned up. She took in how your small frame was starting to shiver and turn blue in the cold mud and knew they had to move fast. 

Kim and Katie swiftly formulated a plan to carry you inside and as Kim went over to explain the plan to Leah, Katie knelt down and took one of your hands into hers, stroking it gently. 

Once Leah was informed of the plan, she quickly started to move out of the way so Katie could pick you up with Kim helping Leah up from the cold mud coated ground. 

The walk back inside was surrounded by an uneasy silence. Communication was shared via somber glances and heavy sighs as Kim and Leah followed Katie from behind, with Kim casting her arm over Leah’s shoulder.

Leah felt despair watching Katie carry your fragile body indoors. She had no idea what was going on with you let alone how to fix this, All she knew was that she needed to fix this and fast.

As the people requested on the poll - ATPTS part 2 is now out.

Not fully proofread so I am sorry for any mistakes included.

As always, I love getting fic and hc requests for anything WOSO related, not just for our poor little chaos kiddo.

[starryjkoo]

I honestly didn’t expect Jikook to talk about their military service much tbh. 2seok never really have, neither of them have been very active on social media, Jimin made it pretty clear he just wanted to go and get it over with and come back… so I’m just… really glad to hear that they managed to make some memories worth taking back with them, ones that they’re excited to (potentially) even share with us. I’m also not surprised but still endeared to learn that Jikook are still managing to find the humor in every situation.

The part of the convo where they’re laughing and talking about not being sure how much they can share because they’re scared of ARMYs running off just reminded me so much of AYS and how they talked about it. I could see Jikook on that couch in the last group live, laughing and playfully scolding Namjoon for spoiling the show, calling the elbow to Jimin’s face a gift for ARMYs, and telling us to look forward to it with all of that silly laughter and wide smiles. Last time they were talking about not being sure if they should share we learned it was because the whole first trip was centered around Jimin’s stomach issues 😭 I can only imagine what they’re talking about this time if it’s bad enough they think it could scare away ARMYs after we all watched that (but I also need to know).

But that little convo with Hobi, idk it was just nice to see that nothing has changed really (insert JM’s favorite LGO lyrics). It was so Jikook, silly and a little chaotic, warm and familiar, them laughing about the unfortunate or crazy things that happen to them, wanting to share their misadventures with us (and clearly with the other members, who knows how many times JM brought up that elbow story for example, he’s so funny).

I just really appreciate that part of their dynamic so much, the way they manage to find the humor in everything, turn a sucky situation into something to laugh about and look back on fondly. I’ve talked about that so much on my blog, but it’s seriously something I love so much about them and something I can’t highlight enough is just so valuable in life. No wonder they get along so well when they always manage to find a way to have fun wherever they’re at and to be able to lift each other up through laughter whenever something unfortunate happens. That kind of thing must be pretty invaluable in their current environment.

We already knew through their letters that things have not been easy at all for them in there. I’ve worried just a little. I know they’re alright, but it’s clearly just… emotionally so taxing, and their words, while having resolve and looking forward to the future, are also honest enough to share those vulnerabilities and uncertainties with us. So, it was just nice to hear their voices for one (first time we’re hearing JM since 2023 😭) and to hear that familiar silliness as short as it was, but also to know that amid all the struggles they’ve at least had a few spots of laughter, and that after all that has happened at least they’ve made some memories worth taking back with them. I’m glad that it seems they’ve both made friends too (or in Jimin’s case, adopted sons). I can’t wait to hear their stories if they decide to share any with us (and I’ll prepare myself because it sounds like I’ll need to) but I’m just happy that they’re hanging in there, that there’s not much longer left, and obviously that they have each other to lean on, confide in and make laugh every now and then too.

[axeeglitter]

The Grand Solis Hotel

Julian had always been the loudest of the group, the one who kept everyone’s spirits high with his boundless energy and relentless optimism. The early summer wind was tingling their faces as they were standing in front of the rusted main entrance portal. After a night of drinking and deep talking about their future, Julian and his friends decided to go for a walk in the neighborhood. For Julian, his future was already planned. Golden boy of the high school, a girlfriend captain of the cheerleaders, already recruited in one of the best colleges, and his dad paid for all his expenses. Yes, Julian was promised for a perfect life already planned and paid for. But deep inside, Julian didn’t feel like that. He was sure he was not good enough. Not strong enough in the gym, not fast enough on the field, not smart enough for studies, not beautiful enough for modeling, never enough. In reality, Julian was just like every young adult, too afraid to be his true authentic self. So, he hides behind bad jokes, being loud, a cocky manly self-centered attitude and then if something went wrong, flashing his perfect smile and face to get away from problems. Yes, Julian knew he could have the world in his palm if he wanted to, but he didn’t know if that’s what he really needed to be truly happy.  

The sun casted a warm glow above the hills. Julian and his friends were talking and laughing while walking in the empty streets when they found themselves in front of the imposing rusty portal. “What do you say guys? You feeling adventurous?” said Julian in a cocky tone as he already opened the door and walked in the abandoned garden full of statues, overgrown weeds and a broken fountain that must have known better days. One by one, all his friends followed him and soon were all in front of the closed entrance door of the Grand Solis Hotel. The once-grand establishment had been a jewel of the city in the 80s, a hotspot for luxury and glamour. Decades later, everybody forgot about it and it was left to rote after a weird disappearance in a suite on the last floor. No one saw that climbing actress ever again after that terrible night. And a couple of months later, the hotel was closed definitely. Now, it was nothing but peeling wallpaper, rotting carpets, and echoes of a golden past long gone and forgotten.

As they moved through the darkened hallways, their flashlights cutting through the dust, they marveled at the remnants of a forgotten era, faded signs, chandeliers hanging by a thread, and furniture covered in ghostly white sheets. “This place is sick bro!” exclaimed Julian as him and all his friends were gagged by the beauty of this place. Everything looked so old and dusty and left there to rote abandoned and untouched. No one entered this place in years and everything was in perfect condition, except for the ravage of years that took a lot on them. “Why did they abandon this place?” asked Brad in a clueless tone. “I heard there was this young promising actress in the 80s.I think she was called something like Mary, Morny...” “She was called Lutecia Marty you moron!” cut Jackson “In the 80s, the Grand Solis Hotel was the place to be. Everybody was coming here to be seen. And one night in 1984, this girl, Lutecia, she disappeared in her room. No one never saw her again after this night. No corpse was found, nothing, she just, POOF, vanished” continued Jackson miming an explosion with his hands. “After that, the hotel closed. It was rumored to reopen, but it never did. And no one ever came back in there.” Finished Jackson still looking at the grand staircase leading to the ballroom, not taking a look at his friends. But after a couple of seconds of silence, he finally realized all of them were looking at him gagged. “What?! I love history and Miss Crawly told us this story last year in class!” he answered. “Anyway…” cut Julian laughing a bit with the others after Jackson’s history monologue “What do you guys say about exploring this place a bit? I’ll go on the upper stairs, see if we can drink one last beer on the roof by the rising sun or something. See you in a bit!” finished Julian as he started walking the staircases trying not to destroy anything of value on his way. After a bit of exploration, Julian found himself in front of a big doubled doored entrance with a little sign above it reading “Grand Solis Presidential Suit”. The room was like a preserved time capsule. Deep brown and gold wallpaper, a velvet couch with a dusty glass table in front of it, a minibar with empty glass bottles, and a bulky, wooden-framed television sitting atop a polished cabinet. Even though those were old, Julian could see that those must have been the most expensive things available in the 80s.

“Damn, this place is stuck in time,” Julian chuckled, running his fingers over the dust-covered nightstand as he explored the room a bit. His eyes landed on an old remote waiting on the dusty coffee table, still there as if waiting for someone to pick it up and start the tv on. “This shit is so old and dated. Did they even have color back there? Funking cringe!” he said as he fell sitting on the couch and snap on the.

Julian grinned, pressing a few buttons not expecting anything to happen. But to his surprise, he heard a faint static noise and then the television screen flickered to life with a burst of static. At first, nothing but snowy white noise filled the screen, the crackling sound oddly loud in the silence. Then, something shifted as Julian saw a weird intricate pattern appearing in a glitched movement on the screen. Something looking like a red Nordic glyph appearing and disappearing from the screen in a glitched way before disappearing for good.

The static morphed, shapes appearing, colors bleeding through. A scene unfolded, warm golden lighting, extravagant décor, and dramatic music swelling as if from another world. A typical 80s telenovela, vibrant and alive, appeared on the screen before him. “Of course, it’s a fucking telenovela, why wouldn’t it be?!” he said laughing with himself. “Fucking cringe! The over acting, the attitude, the costumes, the scenes. Damn I’m sure I would be a better actor without even trying!” he continued as a young women appeared on the screen with a wave of dramatic music starting. “Yea no, I’m out of here!” he said as he jumped back up and started walking in the minibar direction to see if there were still some alcohols in there. But as he turned is back to the television still running in the background, he felt a weird sensation invading his lungs. The air on his forearms raised at attention as he felt like something just had shift in the room. Out of nowhere, the television sound stopped and the static came back stronger then ever, getting louder and louder as for the first time in a long time, Julian was scared. As he turned his head back to the television, he saw the screen glitching in a frozen frame as weird white and black glitching goo poured out of the screen. “The fuck?!” screamed Julian as he started to run out of here, but as he grabbed the handle of the door, he felt something grabbing his ankle and pulling him back in the room. Julian tried to hold on, to open the door, the scream for help, but the pull was way too strong as he felt his fingers getting sweatier and sweatier with every passing seconds. Then, in a last scream, he lost his grip and fell back on the carpeted ground as he was dragged back to the tv. His nails tried to hold on to anything, splinter started to enter his calloused hands but nothing was strong enough to hold him back and stop his abduction. The closer he was getting to the tv, the more the sounds were becoming louder and louder. The colors were getting more vivid, brighter. And as his converse touched the screen, it felt like gravity didn’t exist anymore, the whole room started to spin around him. Julian couldn’t understand where was the roof or the ground. Colors were flashing in front of his eyes and every time he tried to scream, no sounds were able to escape the vortex swallowing him. Then, in a last attempt to get free, Julian threw the torch lamp in the static tentacle that grabbed his ankle, only to scream even more when he realizes his ankle was no more, instead, all he saw were pixels of saturated color glitching away from his disappearing ankle like radio interreferences and climbing higher and higher on his legs “NOOO!! Please let go of me!! PLEASE!!!” He screamed once more as he saw his jeans turning into glitching static swallowed by the vortex, leaving his legs totally naked as the interferences climbed higher above his knees. Julian turned his head back in front of him to scream once more, but he gasped in terror when he saw a new static tentacle throwing itself at his head. Julian lost his vision and soon he stopped screaming as he fainted into darkness.

Darkness. Silence. Weightlessness. For a moment, there was peace and Julian felt like floating in the sky without a single worry in his head.

Then, sensation returned all at once. The cold air against his bare skin, a strange tightness around his limbs, the rough texture of something binding him and pressing against his wrists and ankles. His lungs burned as he sucked in a breath, but it tasted wrong, stale, artificial, tinged with an electric hum that settled deep into his core and made his whole skeleton vibrate in fear and static.

His eyes snapped open, and he realized he wasn’t in the hotel room anymore.

His head turned left and right as he started to scream for help, but his voice came back in his hears echoing into the empty void surrounding him. Julian was bonded, floating in an ocean of darkness glitching in black and white static noise.

Julian tried to move, but his body didn’t respond the way it should. His limbs were held fast, spread out like an eagle, restrained. He struggled, twisting against whatever was keeping him in place, but his body felt sluggish, uncooperative. His muscles flexed as he tried to free himself from this situation but nothing, he tried succeeded in freeing him. “HELP ME! IS THERE SOMEONE IN HERE?! HELP!!” Julian screamed one more time as he felt the atmosphere starting to shift around him, like if someone or something was lurking in the shadow and waiting to jump on him. For the first time in his life, Julian felt powerless and his jockey mask started to crack as his fears of not being strong enough came back to him. He was stuck and at the mercy of the situation, naked in this cold empty void and bonded in place by an invisible force.

Out of nowhere, a burst of distorted applause filled the void, stretching unnaturally long, warping and bending in on itself before fading into a low hiss. The sound came from nowhere, yet it surrounded everything.

Then, a voice cut through the static. Crisp, smooth, detached. A voice made for television, too perfect, too polished, too rehearsed.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls, tonight, we bring you something truly special. A fresh contender. A bl… blblbl… BLANK slate, ready to be shaped. Some may call it an hoHOhOh…onor. Others, a privilege. But here on Prime Time Rebirth, we simply call it what it is, a new beginning.”

Julian was frozen in fear as he heard this voice coming out of nowhere saying that while glitching like a poorly coded radio frequency. A choked sob broke through the droning static as Julian felt the restraints bonding him reacting to the voice he was hearing.

“Our lucky candidate has already made it tHroUgh the prrrrrrrrre…liminary selection process. Impressive, considering how last participant was 41 seasons ago. But, oooOOoOoOf course, selection is only the beginning. The true test is yet to come.”

“WHAT THE FUCK! I’M NOT PLAYING THIS STUPID GAME! LET ME GO! WHERE AM I?!” screamed Julian in a ragged cry, raw with desperation. “S-SOMEONE! PLEASE! LET ME OUT!”

The voice continued, unaffected by Julian’s begging to be freed.

“As always, transSformatiOn is key. A star isn’t simply bOrn, they are made. And so, our cOntEstant will uNderGo the necessary… addDDdDdjustMents.”

Julian saw the void in front of him glitch and for a moment, he saw something, a place that shouldn’t exist. A stage, barely holding form, its edges dripping into static like melting film. Rows of audience members sat in perfect stillness, their faces hollow, clapping in sync. The host stood before them, but his form flickered, distorted, as though he was both there and not.

“And nOw, let the gAMe begins!! What dooOOoOoo… we have here…? Let’s se, se, se, see, a young man, an athlete I see. OH! The gold, gold golden boy… He hates being the center of attention even though he is everyone’s favorite player… And looks like he has a true self esteem problem but doesn’t show it… Well! What do you say friends? I think the choice is clear, right?...” continued the host waiting for the applause of his shadowy audience before glitching away once again, leaving Julian only with the echoes of the applause resonating around him with the forced laugh of this creepy host.

Julian thrashed, the unseen restraints holding firmly in place. “No, NO! What are you talking about?! Stop this! Please, I don’t…”

The stage appeared again from the darkness, appearing fractured and distorted before merging together into its original form. The audience was moving with broken movements as the host was walking smoothly around the scene, his old and dated microphone in hands.

The static swelled, stretching out into a crescendo of distorted applause. Then, with an abrupt glitch, the stage flared into overexposed colors, sickly yellows, piercing reds, neon blues, all too bright, too saturated. A massive game wheel was now in the center of the stage, towering above Julian. The wheel looked like it had been plucked straight from a garish 80s game show, covered in flashing lights and bold, cartoonish symbols instead of numbers. Each section pulsed and shimmered, shifting between words and icons as if the wheel itself couldn’t decide what it wanted to display.

With a burst of flickering interference, the host glitched out of frame, vanishing in a smear of pixels, only to reappear right next to the wheel in a single, jagged frame skip. His presence snapped into place with a harsh buzz, like an old VHS tape struggling to play.

Julian screamed again, thrashing against the invisible restraints. “NO! STOP IT! LET ME GO! I’M NOT PLAYING THIS…PLEASE!” His voice cracked, but the host gave no indication that he even heard him.

Instead, he placed one hand on the wheel, his too-perfect smile never wavering. “A classssss…ic spin for a classic gaAaAAaaAAame! Oh, it’s been so, so, so, so, so so… sooooooo long, hasn’t it, folks?” He gestured to the audience with a grandiose sweep, and they erupted into thunderous applause, cheering, whistling, clapping in perfect synchronization, their movements too uniform, too mechanical. Their enthusiasm was pure, unfiltered joy.

The host chuckled, his laugh warping into a chorus of overlapping echoes. “Now, now… what fate awaits our dear contestant?” He gripped the wheel and gave it a mighty spin.

The wheel whirred, its segments blurring together in a dizzying cascade of symbols, twisting arrows, theatrical masks, interrogations points, mirrored faces… Julian’s breathing quickened, his heart pounding as he watched the fate-deciding spin.

Click. Click. Click…

The wheel slowed.

One final click.

It landed on a space marked with two bold arrows, one pointing up, the other pointing down. The host turned back to the audience, and the crowd exploded with even greater excitement, their cheers reaching an unnatural, deafening volume.

“Oh-ho! Now this is something special! Ladies and geeeeEeEEeentlemen, we haven’t seen this result in quite some time!” The host’s voice crackled, his excitement amplifying with every word.

Julian struggled, shaking his head wildly. “NO! WHAT DOES THAT MEAN? STOP THIS! PLEASE, PLEASE, DON’T DO THIS!”

The stage around him flickered and distorted away. The audience pulsed, their forms breaking apart and reforming like a glitching program. The host raised his arms triumphantly, reveling in the moment and everything started to glitch in interferences as the stage, the wheel and everything vanished in black and white pixels. Julian gasped, his body shaking wondering if what he just saw was an invention of his mind or the product of some alcohol poisoning. But in the blink of an eye, the stage reappeared in front of him, this time the wheel was gone, the audience was clapping once again in a synchronized way while he could clearly hear screams of joy and laugh echoing around him even though they shadowy faces were neutrals. Julian suddenly realized the host was no where to be found, but lost in the cacophony of the audience screams, he could clearly hear his charismatic and deep alluring voice, getting closer and closer. And in a jolt, the host glitched back right in front of Julian, for the first time facing him directly in the eye as he opened his mouth once again to talk.

“Let’s the ga, ga, game begin!!” he concluded as he turned back from the audience to face Julian for the first time. It felt like he was looking directly into his soul and Julian felt like all of his deepest secrets were reading and exposed just as much as his exposed naked body. Julian felt a chill run down his spine as he realizes the host had no face, only a shadow figure with a creepy smile and a glowing red rune on top of his forehead, the same exact run as he saw glowing on the screen when he turned it on. Then the host and everything behind him started to disappear in an interference pattern, only the creep smile and the rune remained before disappearing them too, swallowed by the static engulfing his exposed body.

“WAIT, WAIT, NO! NO, PLEASE! DON’T LET ME HERE! HELP ME!!” he screamed once more in a last attempt to get someone’s or one of his friend’s attentions, and Julian was alone.

As he tried once more to wiggle out free from his static bonds, Julian felt a movement starting to happen around him. The bonds around his ankles and wrists spasmed a bit as he felt a pulling sensation in a rotative motion starting to take place. He saw his vision starting to rotate as he felt the blood coming to his head. Soon, Julian’s position was inverted as his head was now hanging down while his feet were above his head and bonded in the air.

Julian dangled in the void. His body hung upside down, his head tilted toward the abyss below, while his legs remained above, stretching upward as if gravity had flipped. He tried to move, to twist, to turn, but unseen forces held him in place, an invisible current pressing against his chest and limbs, keeping him locked in an unnatural position. His arms felt weightless, detached, like they weren’t his own, and yet the pain was real, every nerve alight with agony, like static electricity crackling through his bones.

“PLEASE!” Julian screamed, his voice echoing in the void one more time as he was slowly getting out of breath, the blood starting to get to his head. His body trembled with panic, but he couldn’t move. He could barely even breathe. Every inch of him burned with something unnatural, something wrong.

Then, out of nowhere, Julian started to feel a weird invading sensation starting to appear around his wrists where the static was holding him in place.

A sharp tug shot through his arms. His limbs contorting, stretching in ways they were never meant to. A deep, searing heat spread through his shoulders and hips as they twisted, morphing, rearranging into something they weren’t supposed to be. Julian screamed in pain and terror as he heard his bones snapping out of place and breaking before reforming into stronger ones. Tears poured down from his eyes and ran down his forehead before falling from his head into the void to disappear in the static as he saw in horror and pain that he couldn’t move his shoulders has freely as before. Worst, the restraints around his wrists had moved for the first time and he could see his hands starting to join in a neutral position under his head. As they moved, he felt his shoulders crack one more time as he felt the bones morph one last time into something denser and bigger before growing longer and longer, giving his biceps a disproportionate length. Julian looked down as he felt the sensation starting to invade his hands now. His fingers burned, the bones compressing, reshaping, until his knuckles cracked and popped grotesquely. The sensation was sickening, and when he tried to curl his hands into fists, he realized he couldn’t anymore. His fingers were thicker, shorter. The digits were fusing, reshaping into something rounder, stubbier. His palms stretched wider, the skin roughening, callouses forming along the edges as his thumbs receded, repositioning at an unnatural angle in a symphony of bones fracturing and merging back together. Julian choked back a scream as he realized what was happening, his hands were becoming feet.

“WHAT THE FUCK! NOOOOOO!”

His arms stretched, elongated even more into powerful limbs. The muscle shifting, thickening and swelling under his skin. The tendons tightened, pulling into a structure far too familiar yet entirely wrong, his arms were becoming legs. He could feel the shift of balance, the change in strength, the unnatural sensation of weight pressing down as his body forced him into this upside-down reversal of form. The agony was unbearable, his mind struggling to process the way his nerves rewired themselves, reconnecting joints in a way that should have been impossible. And for a moment, Julian felt like he was four footed. He tried to move his transformed fingers in front of him and his brain couldn’t understand the message as he felt and saw both of his right foots starting to react. He wanted to throw up from the alien sensation but he was too out of breath from the painful changes to even succeed in that.

Julian was still trying to understand what just happened when the sensation started once again, but this time around his ankles. His legs, his true legs, felt as if they were collapsing in on themselves. The bones cracking and snapping out of place before fracturing and merging back into a different form. Julian was screaming in pain as tears kept running down from his eyes only to fall on his newly transformed feet. The muscle mass shrank in his calves, condensing and reshaping into something leaner, something more flexible. His knees bent in the wrong direction and Julian could feel the pressure rising higher and higher before he felt a snap and then no pressure anymore. His knees had broken and reformed into his brand-new elbows. His calves tightened and restructured as his feet splat apart, toes elongating, stretching into something more dexterous. He could feel the air against them, feel the way his skin rippled as the transformation finalized. His whole body was spasming unwillingly from the new rerouting of his nervous system. Julian could feel his toes turned into finger brushing against each other in a new unnatural sensation. He couldn’t even find the words to describe what he was feeling. His feet had become hands.

Julian’s breathing was ragged, his mind a mess of horror and disbelief. His entire body had been flipped, reversed, turned into something unrecognizable. Julian felt tears continuing to run down his cheeks only to meet pearls of sweat on his forehead and sliding through his damp hair hanging in the hair between his new calves. His brain kept on coming back and force between thinking this was a nightmare and then the realization that every time he tried to move his feet, his hands in front of him were now reacting.

A deep shudder ran through his core as an unbearable heat pooled in his lower abdomen. A sharp, pulling sensation spread from his scalp down to his now hanging dick, as if something was being forcefully rerouted. Julian’s stomach twisted as he felt his head starting to burn from a fever he couldn’t control. It felt like his brain was on fire as he felt pearls of sweat starting to agglomerate on his forehead. At first, Julian thought that his head had been hanged above his head for way too long and his brain was not supporting the blood pressure anymore. But then he felt a violent spasm around his neck as his collar bone shattered before reforming into a new bone where his new legs anchored themselves in perfectly. With a new violent crack, Julian screamed as his neck hanged even lower. He tried to move his neck but it felt like he didn’t have any bones anymore in his neck. His head balancing left and right as the sweat kept on falling. A huge tingling sensation then started to invade his scalp as Julian watched in gasp as his hair started to fall from his scalp and disappear in static when they reached his feet. His hairline was receding faster and faster, the strands thickening, curling, and moving, no, not moving, relocating. At the same moment, Julian started to feel an invading sensation at the base of his neck. The more his hair fell, the itchier the sensation became. His hair was drifting upward, dragging warmth and an unbearable, suffocating musk with them. The scent was overpowering, raw and potent, filling his senses with something primal and unfamiliar. His own hair, his old hair, was no longer atop his head. It had become something else entirely, something far worse. Pubes. Julian’s face burned with an unfamiliar sensation, his skin tingling as pressure built in. His cheeks, his nose, his mouth, everything starting to burn from this uncontrollable fever as Julian was still trying to comprehend what was happening to his face. He felt his skull snapping on itself, his nose cracking and snapping in and out of place. Then to his horror, as he tried to scream once more, he tastes a weird salty thig in his mouth as it was getting harder and harder to articulate sentences. The liquid was musky and salty, almost like… “No” gasped Julian as his nose snapped out of place one last time before disappearing into his retracting skull. His hands were now feet, his feet hands. And his head was baked into a musky manly scent. Julian realized that as his body was forced inverted, his face was now in the position of his cock. “NOOOOOOOO” he screamed one more time as his face finished changing into a thick 8 inches soft cock. A pearl of precum rolled down his new sensitive forehead turned cockhead as his head retracted back on itself to disappear behind a thick sleeve of protecting skin. Julian could still taste and smell everything, worst he could see his new feet perfectly as he was forced to hang from his new position. Watching as pearls of precum kept on coming out of his mouth without him being able to stop them. Something his old 4 inches cut cock never did before. Then, he felt a growing sensation at the base of his new neck as 2 giants nuts pushed themselves from his skin to hand low. His new head was resting against them as a pungent musk started to bake his soul into a nightmare.

Julian was stuck there, hanging from his new pelvis and forced to watch his new feet forever as he felt precum dripping down from his ever-opened mouth while he felt his new nuts working hard to always have sperm in them. He couldn’t think properly anymore, his brain, or what was left of it assaulted by the hormones. At the same time, his cock started to spasm too. Julian couldn’t even watch what was happening anymore but as the sensations kept on getting more and more present and alien, he kept on hearing snapping sounds. And soon he felt his cock starting to move into an unnatural way. His pubes started to burn as he felt a new invading burning sensation appear on top of his cock head.  Then out of the blue, he heard something, a voice. Not the host’s one and not his either. With a new snap, he heard it again, this time accompanied with a sensation of pleasure invading his soul. It felt like he was cumming with every sound pronounced by this voice. Julian tried to move but he couldn’t anymore. He was forced to hang down leaking on his feet as the moves kept getting wider and more intricate. And soon, the sensation and the snapping sounds stopped. Once again, he was left totally bonded and restrained without a clue of what just happened to his cock. Julian felt the restraints around his wrists and ankles starting to let go. He tried to move but he realized he couldn’t anymore. He still had the sensations of his inverted body but he couldn’t move anymore. His soul was now bonded to this new way more muscular body. He tried to scream but only succeeded in releasing more precum around his foreskin. Then, a sensation invaded his body once again. This time it started around his new belly button. His skin darkened, the pale tones of his former self replaced with a deep, sun-kissed tan. The transformation surged through him, spreading warmth and an oppressive, earthy and spicy scent across his body. Thick, dark hair sprouted along his arms turned legs, coating his limbs in a layer of coarse, masculine growth. Julian saw his body hair starting to grow and his skin tan and didn’t understand what was happening to him. Worst, as the sensation invaded him, he felt his new prison starting to chub up. He felt his foreskin starting to roll down his face as for the first time, he clearly saw again the void around him. His sightline kept on getting higher and higher until he was rock hard and forced to look up where his cock used to be, but instead he faced something else. There in place of his cock was now a thick muscular neck topped by a manly perfectly sculpted face of a Latino men. His eyes deep brown, his nose wide and manly, his brows thick and perfectly shaped, his mouth thin, his smile was pearly white. On top of this head, a thick forest of dark wavy hair was shining naturally. Above his upper lip, a thick mustache of a dark hair was positioned and a goatee was finishing to sprout around his manly chin. Julian wanted to scream in terror as he realized his cock was now a face. The changes kept on assaulting his body as his armpits prickled with new density, his chest finished to expend and grew broad and sculpted, a fine dusting of dark curls forming over his pecs. The overwhelming heat mixed with an undeniable, musky presence, clinging to him, defining him.

Julian wanted to scream as the changed finalized around his new body but he had no control anymore, he was a passenger now as he felt the treasure trail of hair grow under his new shaft, tingling him just enough to send shivers of pleasure in his new body. And there without him being to control himself, he felt his new body start to spasm harder and harder. He tried to suppress this sensation invading his core but he couldn’t and out of nowhere, he felt like throwing up, except only thick white sperm came out of his mouth to run down his sensitive veiny dick body and dry out in what used to be his hair turned pubes. Julian was still spasming blank when he felt static swallowing his body once again. For a brief moment, he thought he was freed from this nightmare and he’ll be able to find a way to get help from someone. But his release was brief when instead of seeing the warm sunrise light, he felt fabric materialized against his skin, snug and shimmering, clinging in all the wrong ways. A sheer blue sequin shirt draped over his chest, barely concealing the definition beneath. The matching pants, equally tight and revealing, formed around his lower half, leaving nothing to the imagination. There was no underwear. Just a thin layer of material between him and the world. His feet, his new, foreign feet, slipped into polished leather shoes, shining under the invisible light of his prison. The bonds that had held him vanished, yet Julian remained frozen.

His body was no longer his to command. He tried to move once again, to twitch even a finger, no, a toe. But nothing responded. He was locked inside himself, a prisoner in this alien, unfamiliar body. “SILENCE. MOtoR, AC, AC, AC… AcTIoN!”

Julian heard echoing around him as he was trapped in darkness under the newly materialized pants around his cockhead. He recognized that voice, it was … the host!

Julian’s nightmare deepened into something far worse than he had ever imagined. His body moved, but not by his own will. Each motion was exaggerated, unnatural, as if he were a marionette in the hands of some unseen puppeteer. His arms, no, his legs, swung with a confidence that did not belong to him, his feet stomping onto the floor with purpose, each step sending a jarring shockwave through his stolen frame. But everything was wrong. Twisted. Inverted. His hands, now transformed into grotesque, unfamiliar manly and musky feet, twitched feebly, confined in their leather prison of shoes, squeezed uncomfortably into a shape they were never meant to take. They ached, every nerve firing off protests at their cruel new function, forced to support the entire weight of a body that no longer felt like his own. The unnatural sensation sent waves of nausea crashing through him, a torment that only grew worse with every movement.

For Julian, it felt like a perpetual handstand, a sickening reversal of everything he had ever known. His balance teetered on the edge of disaster, as though at any moment, the foreign frame he was trapped in would collapse under the unnatural shift of gravity. He felt his muscles adjust in sickening positions. Julian tried once again to assert back dominance of his body but he couldn’t control anything, forced to hang against his hairy shaft and leaking on what used to be his left biceps as his pubes were baking in manly Latino musk. For him, it was an endless torment, each forced motion pulling him further from his own identity, further from everything that made him who he was. His mind screamed against the horror, but there was no escape, no way to fight back against the sick joke reality had become.

Then, out of nowhere, Julian tried once again to find power to control his body and he realized that he was starting to gain back control in his right hand. A toe spasming, a finger moving. With some time, he could break free and he would…

“¡Ay, senorita! Looks like you are way too guapa to be alone, ¿verdad?” The deep, confident voice rolled out like a song with a thick Spanish accent. It was playful and filled with a swagger that made Julian’s very being convulse in horror. It felt like something was exploding inside him, unbearable jolts of sensation surging through his trapped consciousness. For Julian it was too much. With every word, it felt like he was having the best orgasm of his life. In the blink of an eye, he lost his will and felt himself leaking abundantly on his hairy calve. Julian couldn’t think anymore, and when he came back to himself, he realized he couldn’t feel his body anymore. He tried to move his hands but couldn’t feel them at all. I was like a connection had been lost. He screamed again mentally one more time, pleading and begging to wake up from this nightmare but instead, all he heard was the host’s voice talking directly to him. “Don’t, don’t, don… don’t worry Julian. You are taken care. No more massssssssks to wear. You can be your true se…lf and what everybody is expecting from yooooouuuuu…uuu!” As the voice died into static noise, Julian couldn’t focus anymore. Every time he heard the words coming out of this Latino lover mouth, it felt so good and he was leaking precum abundantly. “Please, I don’t want to… keep doing … this. So … good” So good? He realized what he just thought and was distressed as he realized he didn’t even try to move anymore. He was just standing there. His sensitive cock head scratching on the hairy thighs with every step and precumming with every word spoken. “Please, I can’t do this anymore. Please Mas…” Julian was cut by a new voice. This time something deep and sensual, something he already heard before. “Cono! You really are horny today, Junior!” as the sentence ended, he felt a feeling of proudness invade his body as he felt seen for the first time ever. But as the calloused hand grabbed him through the pant to adjust him, Julian came back to himself. “What the fuck?!” he suddenly realized that for a brief moment, he forgot everything. His struggles, his life, his friends. Everything. Worst, he didn’t even care. “No, no, no, no, no!!!” he pleaded mentally one more time as more precum leaked from his tip “You don’t understand, if I stay like that longer I will…” Once more, Julian was cut through his train of thoughts as Fernando talked to him directly in thoughts. “Listen Junior, we have one more scene to shoot and then I promise to take care of you all night long!” As he finished this sentence, Julian felt a pressure rising in him and felt ecstatic. Suddenly he couldn’t control himself anymore as he started to spasms as pictures of his new body flashed in his head. Pictures of him naked, his master’s hands gripping him, getting edged for hours, being sucked and plowing holes, any holes. With the pictures implanting in his head, the feelings came back flooding in him and suddenly he realized he didn’t want to fight his master, he was here to serve him, and he was his favorite toy to play with. Julian stopped fighting as a new pearl of precum licked from the tip of the uncut Latino cock, this time, it was a thicker one as it contained Julian’s humanity. It fell down the legs, following the already precum path well traced by Julian’s mental fight and ended on drying on Fernando’s hairy legs, forever assimilated by his new master.

Fernando felt like a weight was lifted from his shoulders as he adjusted one last time, feeling his cock finally stopped spasming. He took a breath as he was called back for his scene. “¡Hermanita! ¡Déjame decirte algo! No hay mujer en el mundo que pueda resistir mi encanto, ¿me entiendes?” His voice was cocky, flirtatious, dripping with an exaggerated bravado that made Julian sick. He was performing. Acting. Playing a role in something he didn’t understand but couldn’t escape. The world around him felt alive, vibrant, but utterly fake. Julian, or rather Fernando Junior, stood there asleep in pleasure as he was waiting for Fernando’s manly and oh so smooth hands to finish his day and finally take care of him. Maybe if he was kind enough, he’ll be able to play with a wet toy until he can’t hold anymore.

At the Grand Solis Hotel, Julian’s friends were finally done exploring the place and decided to climb upstairs to join Julian on the roof for one last beer before the start of university. As they reached the last floor, Jackson saw the double doored entrance of the suit and called for Julian, but no one answered. When they were about to leave, he heard a static noise followed by someone talking. Him and the others started to walk only to see an old retro tv turned on and glitching between statics and an old prerecorded telenovela from the 80’s. A handsome young man, dressed in dazzling sequins, his dark curls framing a cocky smirk. He moved with confidence, his chest puffed out, his eyes twinkling with charm as he leaned against the salon’s counter, winking at a passing woman and adjusting his thick cock under his pants. As the men adjusted, Fernando Junior saw a window appear in front of him. He saw a weird looking dusty room. It vaguely remembered him something but he couldn’t truly understand where. Then he saw some men appear in the window too. For a moment Junior felt like it was something important, but just when he was about to remember the face of one of the young men, Fernando grabbed him adjusted himself before putting a hand through his hairy pubes and scratching it then smelling it with a cocky smile. The smell sent pheromones directly into his blood stream and Junior was once again assaulted by the hormones as he chubbed up a bit thinking about the night that was about to happen for him. “¡Hola guapa! ¿Te gustaría venir a divertirte aquí con Fernando Junior?,” Fernando declared, grinning wide as he kept on adjusting his leaking cock through his pants.

Jackson and the others busted in laugh as they took the remote to turn the tv off before walking back to the stairs.

Inside the screen, Julian was no more, only Fernando Junior remained, screamed in anticipation and pleasure. But no sound came out, only beads of precum licking permanently through his tip and soaking into his favorite blue sequin pants. Junior was so lucky to have such a hot master…

As the TV turned off, a new glyph appeared on the back of the tv, just above one of a star, this one looked like a football. Both of them glowed in red as the tv turned back on one last time before shutting off, waiting for his next participant.

______________________________________________________________

Hey guys!

Hope you're having an amazing day! Most of all, I hope you enjoy this brand-new story I brainstormed with @tf-vigilante.

As always, let me know what you think of it, and feel free to send me messages or DMs if you have any ideas. I read everything. If your idea sparks something in me, you might just see it turn into a full story! ;)

Have a great day, and I'll see you all soon!

[httpuckdrop]

ashes – day 144 (2)

author's note: pretty sure this can be read as a standalone fic, or as a part of my "ashes" series! this is the real alternative ending… considering how the game didn't end as we hoped…. you can check out that part too here, though, because i added some important-ish things to it. anyways i kinda really like how this chapter ended up sooo hope you enjoy too. <3

jack barely said a word to you all evening.

when you met him in the hallway leading to his changing room after the game, he seemed as miserable as ever. barely looking into your eyes, thoughts clearly on something else, rubbing his temples tiredly. you tried everything you could to light up his mood – a cheek kiss, intertwining your fingers with his, whispering sweet nothings into his ear – but he wasn't having any of it.

not that you didn't understand. he had just lost a major game and gone through this championship with just one point to his name. this was definitely not something he was used to, or what he had expected from himself. it didn't surprise you the slightest that he wasn't happy with the outcome of tonight.

after a long and painfully silent taxi ride back to the hotel, jack hurried off to his own room – the one he was sharing with a teammate – to gather some of his things and bring them to your room. most of the american players were going out to drink the loss out of their minds, and jack had no intention of being in his room when his roommate stumbled in drunk at four in the morning.

you'd expected jack to maybe stay in his room for a while and collect his thoughts before coming over to yours. you knew he had a lot to deal with, and you knew he wasn't always the most articulate about these things. talking wasn't his way of letting things like these out.

and yet, he knocked on your door just minutes after you'd parted from him in the hallway. he dumped his bag on the floor after he'd stepped inside, barely acknowledging you as he walked in and sat on the edge of the bed.

this wasn't his usual, relaxed and comfortable silence; this one was heavy, rugged and loaded, making the air thick. jack looked like he wanted to punch something, and you were almost scared that he would – but instead, he simply pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose.

you'd seen him get irritated over games before – but this wasn't like any of the other games. this was a chance for him to prove that he belonged on the international level.

"i should've reached more for that pass," jack said after a few long moments. he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "i should've stood a little closer, read the game better."

sitting down on the bed, though giving him some space, you were unsure what to say. you knew he didn't like platitudes such as "you were good anyway", and you knew he hated when people tried to comfort him in a way that made him feel like they were just belittling his anger. you had seen enough hockey games at this point to know that there isn't just one mistake that makes an entire game – if the us team hadn't let in two goals earlier in the game, they would have won without going into overtime – but that's not how jack saw it. in his head, it wasn't about the team.

it was about him.

you tried to swallow but your mouth was too dry. his voice was full of contempt, but he needed to let it out, so you didn't say anything. you placed a hand on his back, slowly and carefully, to see if he could even accept any kind of comfort right now.

at first, the thick muscles of his back tensed. but after a few seconds, he breathed out and dropped his face into his hands. "fuck."

his voice was so low, so weak, but it carried his entire frustration.

you didn't say anything more – and neither did he. until he finally looked up, right at you, chest trembling with his unsure breaths. "i need you."

the unexpectancy of the words felt like a dagger to your heart. it wasn't a sexual thing, not even a romantic thing. he just said it like the words escaped from his lips before he could stop them, before he could think them through.

you had no idea what to do. jack, ever the controlled and confident man, spoke with a voice so frail that it broke mid-sentence. he had never said something like this before; jack had always been the strong one, the one to not admit his weaknesses. he showed his feelings, but very rarely said them.

that's when it hit you – he was feeling more than he said out loud.

you knew you should answer him. say anything, but no words came out. so you did the only thing you knew of; you scooted closer, arms draping across his shoulders and pulling him in for a hug. he froze, but only for a second before melting into the embrace. with his face nuzzled into your hair, he whispered, "i really wanted to win this. not for the team... for myself. to prove that i'm capable of it. because it's... all i have."

hockey wasn't just a career for him, nor just a sport he loved. it was a part of him.

and you were a part of him, too.

"you have me," you whispered back, unsure if it was a promise or not. but at this moment, it was true.

it took jack hours to fall asleep. it was just as hard for you to doze off, to be fair; his words kept echoing through your mind all night.

i need you.

you knew he said it in a moment of vulnerability, that he wasn't thinking. but... he still said it. it definitely could still be true.

instinctively, you turned around to face him in the darkness. the contours of his jaw were illuminated in the soft moonlight, the soft stubble almost begging for you to brush your thumb across it. but when your gaze climbed higher, you realized – his eyes were wide open, staring into the ceiling.

"you're not sleeping," you whispered.

his breath hitched ever so slightly. busted. "no." his voice was hoarse, tired.

"what are you thinking about?"

he was quiet for so long that you were scared he wouldn't answer. "the fact that i'll never be good enough."

it was so out of the blue that your chest ached with guilt. "jack..."

"it doesn't matter how much i practice. there will always be someone better, someone who scores more points than me, someone more worthy to work on."

it hurt to hear him talk that way. both because it was so far from the truth – did he not still hold the record for most points and assists in usntdp history? – and because he was always so sure of himself, so good at pushing himself forward, never letting his insecurities win over him. "you know that isn't true."

he turned his head in your direction. you couldn't properly make out his expression, but you could feel his gaze on you. "do i?"

"jack," you let out a low sigh. "if you hadn't been good enough, you wouldn't even have been here. you've already made it further than most people. this was one tournament, one game; it doesn't define you."

he shut his eyes as if trying to take in your words. when he opened them again, there was something heavier in his eyes. "it feels like it does."

you wanted to say something more, to make him understand. you wanted to rabble records at him, remind him of what his teammates think of him, what all of the reporters say about his talent. yet, there was something about the way he said it that made you realize that none of those things were what he needed. he didn't need someone to say that all was well – he just needed you to be there.

so you moved closer, resting your head atop his shoulder. it wasn't a big step, but it was enough. "it wasn't your night," you whispered eventually. "but you're still you."

it took a while, but then you felt it – his hand, dragging slowly up your arm. he didn't say anything, letting his touch act as a way of thanking you.

that night, you fell asleep closer than ever.

[bebx]

I love your Hwang brothers fics, I sobbed so hard reading funeral pyre and I was wondering if you have any headcanons about the Hwang brothers growing up 🫶 (I want them to be happy so much)

Thank you very much ♡

Hwang Bros Headcanon

*Apologize if it’s not all fluff and happy. I could not help myself. There might be more from me in the future where they got to truly be happy together.

When his step mom was pregnant, In-ho was a little unsure about having a baby brother. Maybe, very deep down, a part of him was worried his dad would replace him with the new kid and he’d be “left behind”.

He, of course, kept his worries to himself.

However, the first time he met and held baby Jun-ho, all wrapped up burrito style in a blanket, baby Jun-ho wrapped his tiny, tiny hand around In-ho’s finger, and In-ho knew from that moment that this was his baby brother, his blood, he loved him and he would do anything to protect him.

After their father’s untimely demise, In-ho became both a brother and a father figure to Jun-ho.

He loved Jun-ho unconditionally, that was a fact, but he was only a young man who was forced to become the man of the house when he was nowhere near ready, after his father left. The ‘taking care of his step mom’ and ‘being a father figure to his baby brother’ could very understandably be overwhelming, even for In-ho. And Jun-ho just… would not stop following him around when In-ho needed some alone time.

In-ho didn’t mean to snap and raise his voice at Jun-ho.

He was only aware of what he’d done after Jun-ho ran away from him, crying.

Guilt was fast to swallow him whole.

He tried approaching Jun-ho, who was hiding under the bed, tried softly coaxing him to come out in a gentle voice and saying that he was sorry and that he didn’t mean to raise his voice.

It took a while, but in the end Jun-ho crawled out from under the bed and into In-ho’s arms.

In-ho knew, from that moment, he hated seeing Jun-ho cry. Hated seeing Jun-ho upset and in pain. It pained him to see his brother in pain.

That’s why In-ho didn’t hesitate to say he’d give Jun-ho his kidney when Jun-ho got sick.

The doctors and his own step mother explained to him the risk of the surgery and what a “big deal” donating an organ to someone was. They asked if In-ho was absolutely sure. But In-ho knew the risk. And he knew that he didn’t care about his own life or health. As long as Jun-ho was okay. Jun-ho had to be okay.

The surgeries went well, both for himself and for Jun-ho.

A part of him got to be with his brother forever, and a part of In-ho could not help feeling that glimpse of pride somewhere in his chest.

Also he got to use the “I gave you my kidney” card to make Jun-ho listen to him every time he was teaching Jun-ho Jun-ho’s homework (that Jun-ho did not want to do) or trying to make Jun-ho study for his upcoming exam.

Jun-ho’s first heartbreak? It was In-ho’s shoulder he cried on.

Jun-ho’s first screwup? It was In-ho who got him out of the trouble.

And when Jun-ho came up to him one day and said “I’m gonna be a police — a good police — just like you, hyung,” In-ho had never been more proud.

When In-ho lost his wife and child, he thought he lost everything. But then Jun-ho was there, and In-ho realized: no, he hadn’t lost everything.

If there was the one thing that made In-ho doubt his own decision to return to the game as the Front Man, it was Jun-ho.

In the end, In-ho did what he thought was right for him. Abandoning Jun-ho hurt as much as losing his wife and child, but In-ho did what he had to do.

When he knew it was his own brother infiltrating the island, that fear he felt when his wife was dying came back, because now Jun-ho — the idiot, In-ho’s idiot — might get himself killed. Why couldn’t Jun-ho just accept that In-ho was gone?

But deep down, In-ho knew his brother was never a quitter.

The mission was more about finding, saving Jun-ho and getting him as far away from the island as possible (for Jun-ho’s own safety) than it was about finding the intruder and defending the game.

In-ho knew, when he held out his hand for Jun-ho on the cliff, Jun-ho would not take it. Jun-ho was too noble for that. Still something in In-ho’s chest ached when Jun-ho refused his hand. That sentimental part inside In-ho still wished Jun-ho would take his hand. It’s me, your brother, I’m still me.

It was either In-ho pulling the trigger or the Soldiers killing Jun-ho. So In-ho did the one thing he could do that could still save Jun-ho’s life. A bullet to the shoulder was nonfatal. He called Captain Park and orchestrated a rescue mission as soon as he could.

Once Jun-ho was rescued and sent to a hospital, In-ho had his men keep tabs on Jun-ho and report directly to him daily ever since.

So far, Jun-ho had been staying away from the island (In-ho had made sure of that). Good. This was for Jun-ho’s own safety.

Jun-ho could think that In-ho betrayed him (in a way, In-ho did), Jun-ho could hate him now, and that was… that was fine.

In-ho would rather Jun-ho hate him if it meant he got to protect and keep Jun-ho safe. Even from afar.

For those of you who are new here, you can find my fic about In-ho and Jun-ho here

Funeral Pyre (A Hwang Bros fic) on Archive of Our Own

[anghraine]

#op this is amazing#if you follow me you better vote in this i wanna see what people choose#don't miss out on the stuff under “keep reading”#THE THOROUGHNESS#i can't even#this is like a thesis in spirk#and it's not even everything#special mention to them also staring at each other for a completely unnecessary amount of time in the alternative factor#+ “it give me emotional security”/spock literally smiling and blushing#“when I feel friendship for you i am ashamed”/circling each other like animals while jim begs him to help him save the ship#“i need him”#“i have a responsibility to this ship. to the man on the bridge. i am what i am leila”#GAY#THEY MAKE ME INSANE#also giggling @ the last option just being “amok time”#the entire episode#accurate (via @spirk-trek)

Thank you very much!! I totally used your blog to find the screenshots to link to for the turbolift porn scene, so I'm doubly flattered :D

Also I felt deeply oppressed by being limited to 12 options and spent a good week deciding on which I absolutely had to include. So I had a separate draft explaining the "holy shit, holy shit" of several more I didn't include >_>

Copy-pasting the honorable mentions just for shits and giggles:

— "The Naked Time" (S1) - other people's inhibitions dropping for space infection reasons makes them silly. Spock without inhibitions is just absolutely miserable and tormented for various reasons, but his devastated shame just keeps deepening until we get:

Jim, when I feel friendship for you, I'm ashamed. [...] Understand, Jim. I've spent a whole lifetime learning to hide my feelings.

Spock always has "repressed gay angst given humanoid form" vibes, but damn, it's barely metaphorical here, and specifically tied to his feelings for Kirk? Wow.

— "The Corbomite Maneuver" (S1): the last to be removed because it was so difficult. I only dropped it because while it's "lmao you remember you're coworkers on the bridge surrounded by other coworkers, right?" it's not quite as unhinged as "if 430 people have to die to try saving Jim, them's the breaks" etc.

SPOCK: Has it occurred to you that there's a certain inefficiency in constantly questioning me on things you've already made up your mind about? KIRK: It gives me emotional security :)

— "The Galileo Seven" (S1) - a broadly meh episode in which the usual background hum of bigotry Spock endures just becomes the episode. Kirk and Spock are separated for most of the episode (Leonard Nimoy apparently disliked the experience specifically because he had to carry the main plot without William Shatner around), but at the very end, they're all reunited on the bridge, and Kirk is charmed and amused by Spock's continuing refusal to admit anything he did was illogical. Kirk gets out of the captain's chair, walks over to Spock, leans on a nearby console, and as the conversation goes on, he puts his arm around the back of Spock's chair and leans in further. Obviously delighted, he says:

Mr. Spock, you're a stubborn man.

Spock replies:

Yes, sir.

— "This Side of Paradise" (S1) - Spock gets deliberately exposed to happy sex pollen by a woman who had a crush on him back in the day. After frolicking while high on the sex pollen, he finds time for this:

SPOCK: You don't understand, Jim, but you'll come around sooner or later. Join us. Please.

And then, once his head is clear:

LEILA: On Earth, you couldn't give anything of yourself. You couldn't even put your arms around me. We couldn't have anything together there. We couldn't have anything together anyplace else. We're happy here. I can't lose you now, Mr. Spock. I can't. SPOCK: I have a responsibility to this ship, to that man on the bridge. I am what I am, Leila, and if there are self-made purgatories, then we all have to live in them.

Sometimes he'll just say something like this and afterwards, I'd have to literally go lie down and contemplate my own repressed gay angst I thought I was over because it's so ... damn.

— "The City on the Edge of Forever" (S1) - mostly for the wild interaction between Kirk's best female love interest and Spock:

SPOCK: Interesting. Where would you estimate we belong, Miss Keeler? EDITH: You? At his side, as if you've always been there and always will. [To Kirk] And you? You belong in another place.

Thanks, Edith. Also, the episode marks Kirk's relationship with Edith as different and special via Spock's transparent jealousy, which sure was a choice!

— "Spock's Brain" (S3) - of all things! But while it sucks in many ways, it gives us:

KIRK: Spock, is that you? SPOCK: Captain? Captain Kirk? KIRK: Yes, Spock. Yes. SPOCK: Captain, there is a definite pleasurable experience connected with the hearing of your voice.

— "Is There In Truth No Beauty?" (S3) - when Miranda Jones initially fails to save Spock and Kirk loses his shit (tactically, but he admits afterwards that he thinks he was being truthful):

The other half [of Spock] is human. Far more human than you, apparently … If you don’t reach him soon, he’ll die. But that’s what you want, isn’t it? … You want him to die. What did you do to him on the bridge? Did you make him forget to put the visor over his eyes? … You know your rival, don’t you? You couldn’t keep him from making a mind-link with Kollos, something you couldn’t do yourself! With my words, I’ll make you hear such ugliness as Spock saw when he looked at Kollos with his naked eyes! The ugliness is within you! … Spock saw Kollos, and for that he must die … The smell of hatred, the stench of jealousy permeates you. Why don’t you strangle him while he lies there?

— "Wink of an Eye" (S3) - one of the most chilling cases of a woman pursuing Kirk without even slightly caring about the wildly coercive circumstances (and in this case, creating them). Also, uh:

DEELA: He's trying to communicate with the Vulcan. His species is capable of much affection. RAEL: I have noted that. DEELA: I wonder if they will demonstrate it to us. :)

o_O

So one of the revelations from watching the entirety of TOS is that Kirk and Spock's relationship is not only every bit as homoerotic as rumored and then some—though it is—but that they are also incredibly fucking unhinged about it. So for this week's poll, I wanted to honor this discovery!

(The character limitations don't allow for much detail, and in context these are even more incredible, so I'll add the links/clips/summations beneath the cut!)

1— "The Empath" (Season 3)

Context: the girl of the week, Gem, is a member of a species of mute empaths able to absorb others' injuries through sympathy and generally drawn to positive emotion. Meanwhile, Kirk is tortured by other parties in the episode to test her willingness to take on others' suffering, and he falls into an exhausted unconscious heap on a bench.

Gem starts to head away towards McCoy, but is suddenly arrested by something she senses and turns to look at Spock, who is moving over to sit next to Kirk and watch him sleep. When Spock realizes he's being observed, he turns away and pretends to study data in his tricorder. Gem isn't fooled, however, and walks back over to him, touching Spock's shoulder and staring at him with wonder in her face over this simple feeling whatever his emotion is while delicate music plays in the background. See for yourself:

2— "Shore Leave" (Season 1)

Context: Kirk is fatigued and strained and in physical pain after ... uh, everything (this episode was aired immediately after "The Conscience of the King" and "Balance of Terror," so it's not hard to buy). He tries to stretch out his back and Spock, standing behind Kirk with his hands on the back of the captain's chair, pulls his hands back and asks him if something is wrong. Kirk explains it's just the kink in his back. A pretty female yeoman starts massaging his back (uh) and Kirk welcomes it under the mistaken belief that it's Spock doing it:

"That's it. A little higher, please. Push. Push hard. Dig it in there, Mr.—"

Spock lifts a brow and pointedly steps forward so Kirk can see it's not him, and Kirk immediately orders the yeoman to stop with a meaningful look at Spock.

(Bonus episode points: Spock's smug satisfaction at tricking Kirk into taking shore leave where McCoy failed, and them grasping at each other when they're in danger.)

3— "A Taste of Armageddon" (Season 1)

Context: After Kirk successfully uses a risky gambit to trick two neighboring peoples into making peace rather than continuing to murder millions of people via computers, he explains his thinking:

It was a calculated risk. Still, the Eminians keep a very orderly society, and actual war is a very messy business. A very, very messy business. I had a feeling that they would do anything to avoid it, even talk peace.

When Spock is dubious about acting based on "a feeling," Kirk adds:

Sometimes, Mr. Spock, a feeling is all we humans have to go on.

Spock replies:

Captain, you almost make me believe in luck.

And then Kirk dials it up to:

Why, Mr. Spock, you almost make me believe in miracles.

Then the camera just focuses on Spock visibly trying to process this and the episode ends.

4— "Requiem for Methuselah" (Season 3)

Context: this is one of relatively few episodes in which Kirk actually gets to pursue a woman because he likes her rather than desperate circumstances; as usual with people he cares about, she dies. He's so emotionally drained at this point in the show that, upon returning to the ship, he describes his immortal rival for her love and himself as "A very old and lonely man, and a young and lonely man," mutters that he wishes he could just forget it all, and falls asleep at a table.

Meanwhile, Spock (who has been visibly intense and uncomfortable throughout the whole episode) stays nearby as McCoy enters. Spock gestures at him to stay quiet and McCoy briefly exposits a plot point to Spock, then segues into an unexpectedly vicious, half-smiling monologue about what Kirk's gone through in the episode and how Spock could never understand it:

Considering his opponent's longevity, truly an eternal triangle. You wouldn't understand that, would you, Spock? You see, I feel sorrier for you than I do for him, because you'll never know the things that love can drive a man to. The ecstasies, the miseries, the broken rules, the desperate chances, the glorious failures, the glorious victories. All of these things you'll never know simply because the word love isn't written into your book. Goodnight, Spock.

Spock just endures and politely replies "Goodnight, doctor," but after McCoy leaves, he allows himself to respond. Without so much as a scene break, Spock slowly walks over to the unconscious Kirk, touches his face, and mind-melds with him while he sleeps. And then he wipes Kirk's memory (!!!) of the tragic romance with his rival this girl, murmuring:

Forget.

5— "And the Children Shall Lead" (Season 3)

Context: a simple instance from a weak episode, but also ... damn, it's a lot. A bunch of children under the malign influence of an evil imperialist alien have managed to take over the Enterprise. This isn't the first time something roughly similar has happened, but at this point, Kirk has a full on panic attack as he and Spock leave the bridge and take the turbolift. Kirk clings to Spock as he melts down and Spock unsuccessfully tries to calm him with "Captain," but it only works when he murmurs, "Jim."

Kirk freezes and then immediately calms back down to his usual rational self. Spock is still concerned and Kirk assures him he'll be fine now (and is).

6— "Miri" (Season 1)

McCoy, Janice Rand, Kirk, and Spock are all gathered around trying to figure out the disease of the week, which has infected all of them (though Spock is asymptomatic). Kirk and Spock lock eyes and Spock points out that they can't go back to the ship, including him since he'd be a carrier, and then he adds:

Whatever happens, I can't go back to the ship ... and I do want to go back to the ship, captain.

Kirk smiles slowly and they just stare at each other as if Janice and McCoy had dropped off the face of the planet.

7— "The Tholian Web" (Season 3)

Context: Kirk is trapped in a different phase of space while a local anomaly is gradually driving the crew of the Enterprise to insane rage. At the same time, the hostile Tholians are threatening the Enterprise with the obvious intent of killing them all within short order, and Kirk's disappearance places Spock in command throughout this triple crisis. Spock refuses to order an escape, instead insisting on the Enterprise remaining in place to keep trying to rescue Kirk, homicidal insanity of the crew be damned, even as the Tholians began attacking.

McCoy urges Spock to prioritize the welfare of the Enterprise and its crew above Kirk, telling him they can't afford to stick around and keep trying. Spock refuses and things predictably get worse.

McCoy confronts him about his priorities:

You should've known what could've happened and done everything in your power to safeguard your crew. That is the mark of a starship captain, like Jim.

Plot events lead everyone, including Spock, to believe that Kirk is dead, and as acting commander, Spock also has to lead the memorial service:

as a result of the battle, we must accept the fact that Captain Kirk is no longer alive. [...] I shall not attempt to voice the quality of respect and admiration which Captain Kirk commanded. Each of you must evaluate the loss in the privacy of your own thoughts.

McCoy continues to lash out at him directly afterwards:

He was a hero in every sense of the word, yet his life was sacrificed for nothing. The one thing that would have given his death meaning is the safety of the Enterprise. Now you've made that impossible, Mr. Spock. [...] I really came here to find out why you stayed and fought. [...] You could have assured yourself of a captaincy by leaving the area. But you chose to stay. Why?

Spock coldly replies:

I need not explain my rationale to you or any other member of this crew.

They snap at each other until they find the recording left for both of them by Kirk in the case of his death. It (hilariously) begins:

Bones, Spock, since you are playing this tape, we will assume that I am dead, that the tactical situation is critical, and both of you are locked in mortal combat.

The message is honestly both wise and heartwarming about how they should respect each other and both have important qualities to offer in a crisis. McCoy immediately feels ashamed of how he's been behaving at such a moment, and tells Spock:

Spock, I, er, I'm sorry. It does hurt, doesn't it?

Spock bleakly replies:

What would you have me say, doctor?

8— "Turnabout Intruder" (Season 3)

Context: in the very peculiar series finale, Kirk's autocratic and vengeful ex-girlfriend uses some kind of machine to take control of his body, leaving him trapped in her body. Spock notices almost immediately that "Kirk" is acting out of character and that "Janice" clearly knows something, so he goes to talk to "her" and Kirk tells him everything. Spock thinks it's possible but there's no certain proof, and Kirk urges him to mind-meld with him:

You are closer to the captain than anyone in the universe. You know his thoughts. What does your telepathic mind tell you now?

Spock melds with him and is promptly convinced.

Bonus: Spock tries to help Kirk escape shortly thereafter and holds his wrist/hand for a good twenty seconds.

9— "The Paradise Syndrome" (Season 3)

Context: Kirk becomes a carefree amnesiac stranded on a planet of transplanted Indigenous people (it's as bad as it sounds), but there's a much more well-done subplot around Spock commanding the Enterprise in the meanwhile. He stubbornly risks the ship (again) to try and rescue Kirk, but the attempt disastrously fails, leaving the ship with only impulse power. McCoy says in some frustration:

Well, Spock, you took your calculated risk in your calculated Vulcan way, and you lost. You lost for us, you lost for that planet, and you lost for Jim.

Despite his exasperation, McCoy still tries to get Spock to rest. Spock simply ignores him and orders the ship to head towards the planet Kirk is stranded on, still stubbornly set on rescuing him, even though they have no warp capabilities and have to travel entirely by impulse power. When McCoy protests that it'll take months, Spock replies:

Exactly 59.223 days, doctor.

And there's no clever solution around it, either. They do take nearly two months getting to the planet and Spock spends 58 days of the journey fixated on figuring out the puzzle that will allow them to save Kirk. McCoy tries to get him to eat or sleep, since he's done little of either for over 50 days, but Spock refuses to do anything except prepare for rescuing Kirk:

I'm also aware when we arrive at the planet, we'll have barely four hours to effect rescue. I believe those symbols are the key. [...] I am not hungry, doctor. [...] My physical condition is not important, doctor. That obelisk is.

McCoy eventually threatens to call security to force him away from studying the puzzle and make him lie down, so Spock finally goes to bed. As soon as McCoy is gone and out of earshot, Spock just gets back up and returns to contemplating the puzzle until he has a breakthrough.

Then upon beaming down and finding an injured, still-amnesiac Kirk, Spock mind-melds with him to try and repair his memory.

I am Spock. You are James Kirk. Our minds are moving closer. Closer, closer, closer, James Kirk. Closer. [...] Our minds are one. [...] Spock!

Spock breaks the link and falls back, gasping. When McCoy asks what's wrong, Spock just says:

His mind. He is an extremely dynamic individual.

10— "The Enemy Within" (Season 1)

Context: Kirk has been split into two people, representing each half of his personality: one half is noble, intellectual, and restrained, but cautious and indecisive, while the other is strong and bold, but vicious, selfish, and violent. At this point in the episode, Spock et al don't know about the split, so good!Kirk is oblivious and evil!Kirk's bizarre behavior is being attributed to normal Kirk. McCoy sends Spock to the captain's quarters to find out what's wrong with him.

Spock dutifully goes to Kirk's quarters, where he finds good!Kirk relaxing without a shirt on and promptly realizes he's gay loses the ability to put normal sentences together. It's difficult to overstate or even describe the homoeroticism of this scene, so judge for yourself:

Bonus: after Spock realizes he's dealing with only half of Kirk and has taken up helping him present a good front, he has to keep correcting good!Kirk's weaknesses and tells him that acting like actual Kirk means "You can't afford the luxury of being anything less than perfect."

11— "Errand of Mercy" (Season 1)

Context: Kirk and Spock are trying to pass themselves off as members of a species of ostensibly docile, peaceful people being (ostensibly) colonized by the Klingon Empire. Kirk in particular struggles to keep his head down, and when a Klingon shoves and threatens Spock, Kirk loses his shit and nearly clobbers the Klingon. Spock manages to calm him down and as they walk away, Kirk mutters:

You didn't really think I was going to beat his head in, did you?

Spock replies:

I thought you might.

Kirk says:

You're right.

12— "Amok Time" (Season 2)

We all know about this one, let's be real. It's difficult to even choose a moment—Spock confiding in Kirk about Vulcan mating practices (Kirk: O_O) and his loathing of the prospect, with Kirk protecting his confidentiality ("I haven't heard a word you've said"), Kirk defending his own choice to implode his career and defy Starfleet (without breaking Spock's confidence) to rush Spock to Vulcan ("I owe him my life a dozen times over. Isn't that worth a career? He's my friend"), Spock telling Kirk he'll undoubtedly find pon farr "distasteful" and Kirk responding "Will I?", Spock begging T'Pau not to let T'Pring choose Kirk as her champion ("I will do what I must [in combat], T'Pau, but not with him! ... In the name of my fathers, forbid. Forbid! T'Pau. I plead with thee! I beg!"), Spock's bleak response to T'Pau's "live long and prosper" after his victory ("I shall do neither. I have killed my captain and my friend"), Spock explaining that his pon farr vanished the moment he thought he'd killed Kirk ("When I thought I had killed the captain, I found I had lost all interest in T'Pring"), McCoy trying to get Spock to admit that his relief at Kirk's survival is illogical and Spock blatantly lying that he is just concerned with the loss of an effective captain, to which Kirk simply responds "Yes, Mr. Spock. I understand" while McCoy splutters ...

But honestly, my favorite is the brief moment of unrestrained emotion when Spock discovers Kirk is still alive and he cries "Jim!" as his whole face lights up and he grabs him. It's one of the only times in TOS that he's in his right mind and yet too overwhelmed to hide what he feels, and it's famous for a reason.

[weneeya]

physical affection m.list | rules

pairing. jason todd x reader

note. hello there! this one is to heal my own heart tbh because I read too much angst with my boy and I need him to be happy :( pleased don't hesitate to request <3

Jason Todd had never been known for being the most gentle and sweet person on Earth. Actually, most of the people who knew him would say that he was a freaky killing machine. When, in fact, he simply had some problems expressing himself correctly. He would die to be close to someone freely, but he was too scared for that. Scared of everything if he let anyone enter his life. Until you arrived. 

You were some fresh air in his life, a soft wind helping him to finally breathe again. He was still scared, obviously, but you were making things easier. He felt like he could let his guard down when he was with you, and he never thought he would learn how to do that in his life. 

You were watching TV in silence, Jason sitting right next to you in your apartment. He was obviously more looking at you than at what was playing on the screen, observing your figure like he was trying to learn it by heart. In a gentle move, he grabbed your hand in his. You looked at him, and you heard his voice going out softly while looking at your hand. 

“Your hands are so small. Look,” he said, putting your palm against his to compare the size of your hands. It made you smile ever so softly, and when you were about to say something, you saw his fingers getting interlocked with yours. With that, he simply held your hand before resting his head against your shoulder. You restrained that sweet laugh that almost escaped you before looking back at the TV, your grip on his hand slightly tightening. 

One of the things Jason used to do a lot was pretexting that he wanted you to be safe so he could get some physical affection from you. You were about to cross the road after looking at each side of it when you felt a hand grabbing yours. You glanced at your boyfriend who slowly shrugged your shoulders and said “Just to be safe”. And for sure you would be safe with Red Hood himself around you. 

Grabbing your hand wasn’t the only thing he would do though. Jason loved your hair, even if he didn’t exactly know why. It was just so soft and playing with it was probably the best thing he ever did to calm himself. You were peacefully doing your skincare that night, hair down while applying your face mask, when Jason arrived from behind you. His fingers slowly passed through the end of your hair and you looked at him through the mirror. 

“Want to help me? I need to brush them.” You told him and the boy looked up at you the second after. He slowly nodded and you grabbed your hair brush to give it to him. You both left the bathroom so you could sit on the bed, him being right behind you. His movements were so slow, so gentle. You were the only one who had the chance to see him like that, and you would never be glad enough for that. 

But he wasn’t the only one to seek this affection, of course. First, you would never say no to him if he wanted you to cuddle him in a way or another. But you were also never missing a chance to cling onto him when you were in public spaces. Not only because you wanted people to know that the man was with you, but also because you didn’t like to be surrounded by a crowd too dense. 

Jason was your safe place, and you slowly realized that you were also his. It was working well, especially because you could tell that he was doing more effort than he ever did. He really wanted to trust you, even if it was complicated for him at some point. Trusting issues were an obvious thing, but he was working on it. 

He loved you more than anything else, and he would do everything to make it work.

thank you!