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ponder-the-orb · 1 day

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Wash Me Clean

Pairing: Fem Tav/Gale, (named draconic sorcerer Tav)

Tags: 18+, river bathing, smut (self pleasure), Act 1, tiefling party, sexual tension

Summary:

There’s another breath against her skin, a longer one. “You might just be the death of me, Ciri.”

A titter bubbles in her throat. “Maybe. Maybe not. So tell me then Gale. If you could have anything right now, what would it be?”

He considers her question for a second before removing his fingers from her arm. Her disappointment quickly dissolves into a gasp as he places them on the back of her neck instead. He caresses the short hair there before moving slowly, deliberately, over her shoulder, down her spine and to the dip of her waist. It’s feather light, but she feels sensation everywhere until her desire finally settles, warm as a blush, between her legs.

He leans forward. “If I could? Everything.” He cups her hip, stroking his thumb back and forth until all her thoughts begin to melt into a pink fog.

Word count: 3.2K

Read on AO3 or below

It had taken Ciri a while to find somewhere quiet.

She can still hear the revelries of the party as a hum on the breeze, the tieflings and her companions alike still very much making merry around the campfire. The goblin leaders disbanded, of course she’d agreed to let them have one evening to forget the perils of the road ahead and let the ghosts of those they’d lost hang less heavily over their heads.

She cannot complain. Not really. For a time, It had been pleasant for a time to watch everyone, their smiles lost in their cups as they danced under the fat happy moon. She’s had her fill though. She’d slipped out when no one was watching and walked with quiet deliberate steps along the riverbank until the water was wide and the only light were her sparks and a handful of stars scattered above. And when she was sure she was alone, she’d stripped, walked into the river and channelled her fire until the shallow water was a more bearable temperature.

She isn’t sure how long she’s been kneeling here, not enough to be missed she assumes, and certainly not enough for her feelings to float away along with the goblin blood and grime.

She runs hot most days, but this feeling is different entirely. It’s gentle but frustratingly present, burning like embers that just won’t cool.

She submerges herself fully for a few seconds so the muffled noise of the party completely disappears. Peace. Finally. What she’d give to float here forever as naught but murk in the river. Leader and hero to none.

As she reemerges up to her shoulders, something stirs behind her. There’s a gasp, a shuffle and then the snap of a twig as something moves clumsily on the bank.

Ciri immediately whips around, firebolt poised in her hand.

“Don’t fire!”

Gale stands about twenty paces away with wide eyes and both hands up.

She waves the fire away. “Bloody hells Gale! I could have incinerated you.”

“Ah sorry.” His eyes float from her face down to the water lapping just under her collarbones before he abruptly jerks his head towards the sky. “And– uh– thank you for not doing that. I don’t have much else to change into should my clothes get destroyed.”

Ciri's cheeks flood with heat and she quickly ducks further into the water, crossing her arms over her breasts. She has no idea how much he’d seen, but is fairly certain the sweet pink spilling across his nose is not from indulging in too much wine.

“It’s fine,” she says slightly too hurriedly. “It’s almost a relief I suppose. I’d rather not fight anyone else until at least tomorrow morning. So what brings you out here anyway?”

“I did not follow you, if that is what you are worried about. There may be strange creatures lurking in the bushes out here but I can assure you I am not one of them.”

Ciri turns back around and cups a handful of cool water to her neck. She’s almost surprised it doesn’t sizzle. “Just warn me next time. The last person who snuck up on me lost their eyebrows.”

His answering laugh is a soft rumble over the wind. “Duly noted.”

“Even if I didn’t turn around I think the crack of those knees would have given you away.”

“Get to my age and then see if you’re still laughing about it.”

She throws a softer look over her shoulder. “I’m ten years older than you.”

She’s almost disappointed he’s still staring at the sky so intently. She wonders that if she’d turned a second sooner she might have interrupted a furtive glance, perhaps one that lingered on the damp column of her neck for just a moment too long. It’s as her own eyes wander over his face that she notices the red stain spreading from his neck and over his usually pristine shirt.

“What happened to your clothes?”

“An experiment gone awry. Between Rolan and his two mage hands, it turns out the number of wine bottles he can juggle is three and I happened to be standing in the exact wrong place. Once the laughter died down I thought it was high time for a rinse.”

“You couldn’t just prestidigitate yourself clean?”

His eyes drift down to meet hers again. This time, they stay. “I could, but after being on the road for more than a tenday, the prospect of an actual bath is a luxury. And I’d go so far as to guess that you are of the same mind?”

She turns and makes a show of scrubbing her arms. “You’re the one that had plenty to say about my musk. If I am to be this party’s reluctant leader, then we cannot have anyone distracted by whatever got splattered on me this time.”

It’s a half truth. She can feel the dirt of this particular journey seeping into more than just her skin and she hadn’t planned on leaving these waters until she’s managed to scrub every fleck of blood and sinew clean. It’s her mind that needs a good clean as well. Fear, stress, confusion, want– they’re all tangled like vines knitted together over the door of some ancient temple. Every day she gets one answer and a hundred new questions about their situation.

Just one moment of true clarity. It’s all she wants. If not about what their future holds than at least what this party of broken misfits actually want from her.

Her eyes flick back to Gale, perhaps the most frustrating knot in that tangle. Now he’s here, with her. Alone. Naked. Like something out of one of the bluer novels she’d pilfered from local libraries in her younger years.

Ciri rubs the back of her neck. “Truth be told, I just… couldn’t get all the blood out from under my fingernails. We spent so long checking all the bodies for equipment and when we finally walked away we were covered in that mess.” It’s something she has not admitted to anyone, far too scared of bringing down the party’s mood when the tieflings were just trying their damndest to be happy. “Do not misunderstand, I’m so happy that everyone from the Grove is safe but there were so many bodies.”

There’s a long moment of silence between them. “I suppose this is different to your usual adventures then?” he finally responds.

She shakes her head. “I’m usually hired to chase away monsters or fetch cursed artefacts. I stopped Sazza getting struck with a crossbow in the Grove but then was more than happy to mow down her companions barely a day later. Yes, they were a violent warband, but also people.” People she burned and then looted. People that she felt no guilt for as Lae’zel pushed them from ledges and Astarion slit their throats from behind. It’s not the smell of charred skin or the gore that’s twisting like a dagger in her gut right now, but that it was easy. That up until half an hour ago she’d been parading around the party in clothes she’d stripped off a dead drow’s body with not a comment from anyone.

“They would have killed you if you’d hesitated. Then me. Then everyone else who is enjoying tonight.” She hears the soft shuffle of Gale stepping closer to the water’s edge. “Just because I see the value in preventing a fight before one breaks out, does not mean I’m not ready to jump in when it’s required. And sometimes swords and sorcery are the only way.”

Ciri had certainly seen that in action today. She’d watched him, awed, as he’d thrown spells with the grace of a trained archer, disintegrating his targets to dust.

“Perhaps someone else needs to take up the mantle of leader for a while,” she says.

Gale laughs again. “I would have to disagree there. After all, we’re still here and very much alive thanks to you. Not that I’m diminishing my own considerable involvement but that silver tongue of yours has gotten us out of more than a few scraps already. There’s no one else I’d trust to get us from A to B still in one piece.”

A slow, hidden smile breaks over her face. “I’m not sure whether that’s a compliment for me or an insult to the rest of our companions”

“The highest praise, I can assure you.”

There’s a pause, a heartbeat, then something slightly sweeter plucks at that tangle inside her.

“Well, I suppose I should leave you be,” he continues when she stays quiet. “I doubt company was what you were searching for when you ventured out here. My shirt can wait.” There’s no sound of him backing away as he speaks. She can feel the question hanging between his words, present as the weight of his eyes on her bare shoulders.

Do you want me to stay?

She turns and deliberately brushes a droplet as it falls down her neck. “You should try the water. It’s more pleasant than you might think.”

She shifts before she can see his reaction. There’s nothing to interpret here, no words lost or wrapped in metaphor. Just the two of them, the pale moonlight and a week’s worth of tension she’d all but ready to shatter into a thousand irreparable pieces.

There’s another pause, a shuffle of fabric then a series of soft ripples as the water breaks behind her.

“Well, that’s certainly warmer than I expected.”

She raises her hand to show her glowing palm. “You can thank Iraxys for that.”

There’s a louder splash as he submerges himself fully.

“Judging by the draconic etymology, I’m going to assume that’s who you have to thank for the scales? It’s quite the impressive feat to have found the specific dragon in your ancestry.”

“It’s what my family told me so I’ve always called her that.” She touches the scarlet patch on her cheek bone. “It did not take me very long to realise they probably just made up some dragon-sounding name to stop me constantly asking about it. I mean there’s no way they could actually know. But even if that’s not what she was called, it’s nice to put a face to the feeling.”

“Would it be rather crass to question exactly how a fifty foot dragon joined an elven family?”

“You would not be the first to ask. And I do have my own theories– some being a lot more descriptive than others.”

“And those are?”

She twists her head, just a fraction. “Not yet for your ears.”

He’s a blur in her peripheral vision, knelt deep in the water a respectable number of paces back. She lifts her chin a mite, just until she can make out the edges of detail. His hair has fallen a little more freely in front of his face, the wet strands clinging to his ears. So round she’d found herself thinking more than once, so… human. She follows the purple lines of the orb from the corner of his eye to where it lies under the water. Even mostly hidden, she can see the breadth of his chest, the dark hair dusting over the softness and trailing down. They’re the things she’d seen but hints of before, ones she’s been folding away during the day and leafing through so carefully at night. She’d been quick to push past her initial vexation at such thoughts, for even if they are impractical, perhaps even insufferable– they’re warm. Why should she not indulge when it’s one of the few comforts she has left on the road.

Ciri looks away as he rubs the edge of his beard, her hands clenching at her sides. Gods above does she want to feel that roughness.

“I did not expect you to leave the festivities so soon,” he says. “You’re the talk of the camp. Last I heard there are ballads being composed with your name and drinks still being poured for you. Though as an adventurer I expect you’re used to all that.”

She shrugs. “First time actually. When you’re getting paid, people don’t tend to throw you a party as well. It’s certainly a different experience. Lots of people. Lots of attention.”

The water ripples again as she feels Gale move closer. “It can be a lot to have all eyes on you. Especially when some may linger for longer than others.

She closes her eyes and waits for him to be still. “Maybe I want that,” she whispers. “Or maybe just one pair in particular.”

She’d been ready to take that step tonight. She’d sought him out first, laid out the teases, the smiles, her intentions flashing brightly as any beacon. But he’d left her be, told her to enjoy the evening while he waited at the sidelines lest the orb destroy them all. She needs to hear the words now. The real words that were not so carefully chosen when surrounded by companions and strangers alike.

Ciri lifts herself from her knees and stands at her full height. The river laps around her waist, droplets running in cool trails over her scars, her breasts, the curve of her stomach. She rubs her scales again and fights the urge to duck back down into that protective shroud of water.

“I’ve been thinking about what I showed you when we channelled the weave together.” she says. “About… if I should have done that.”

“You should not regret being so bold. It was more than just a pleasant moment and those have been few and far between since we crash landed here.”

She hums softly and thinks back to that vision of their kiss. It had been such a small thing to start. Something fanciful, a want driven by both the fear of death and a few days enjoying the shape of his mouth whenever he spoke in such an overly impassioned way about magic. That was before she saw the full hungry truth with her hands clasped to his glowing chest. He’d tasted a goddess, shared her bed, her wonder, her wrath. And despite that he’d still humoured her mortal wants, seemed elated at them even, enough for that fanciful desire to grow ever hotter inside her with each passing hour.

“Do you still think about it too?” she whispers.

There’s another moment of silence. Another ripple as he moves until the smell of wine and parchment brushes past her. “Of course I do. Perhaps more than I’d like to admit.”

Ciri rubs the back of her hand. “Then why not take it?”

She wonders what would happen if she turned around right now and showed him her every naked curve and dip and colour, about whether he would avert his eyes or drink her in more eagerly than the evening’s wine, if he would back away or reach for her and feel exactly how much she burns for him under her damp skin. They’re questions she can’t quite answer– not when she knows she’s still standing against the memory of the divine. Magic may be her life, but Mystra she knows little of. When he showed that dark torrent of memory, Ciri had seen the echoes of her still glowing in the corners of his mind. Lyrical praises whispered, about how she was beautiful as the weave, soft as a dream, everything wonderful and terrible a mage could want.

Something larger flutters in her chest as she feels the heat of his skin barely a pace behind her now.

“Once, the promise of a truly kind touch would have been worth the cost of potentially levelling a city. To feel one’s demise in a moment of pure ecstasy– it’s almost poetic in a way.” His breath brushes her shoulder as he speaks, tender as a kiss. “But now? I cannot. For so many reasons– for the journey we must complete, for these companions, friends even. And for you, perhaps most of all.”

She breathes out shakily. “Are you really sure it would be so catastrophic?”

He lets out a short laugh. “Not even slightly. But what I do understand all too well is wanting to take comfort with someone in a moment of calm. When danger can pounce at any given time, such desires are all too mortal.” Her skin prickles with heat as he gently touches Astarion’s bite marks at the side of her neck, then the bruise on her arm from where Lae’zel had bumped her a little too enthusiastically. “Whoever that may be with.”

She reads his message loud and clear. ‘Take whomever you wish to your bed tonight.’

“I know what I want. I don’t need an itch scratched or some fleeting desire satiated,” she answers firmly.

There’s another breath against her skin, a longer one. “You might just be the death of me, Ciri.”

A titter bubbles in her throat. “Maybe. Maybe not. So tell me then, Gale. If you could have anything right now, what would it be?”

He leans forward. “If I could? Everything.” He cups her hip, stroking his thumb back and forth until all her thoughts begin to melt into a pink fog.

She wants him. Wants and wants and wants in a way she can barely comprehend right now. She wants to press herself back against him, feel the softness, the muscle, the heat. She wants to turn and wrap herself in his arms, letting them both taste and bite and devour until the mess of their joint passions dissolves into the water around them. She wants to have him, to let him have her until that vile orb shatters under her touch and there’s nothing left but the scar of their coupling burned into the earth. And above all that, she wants to be gentle too. To touch and be touched, enjoy something quivering and slow and sweet amongst the death and disarray that follows them everywhere.

And for that, she can wait.

“Alright. That’s all I needed to know. Goodnight Gale.” She steps away from him and marches towards the closest bank without turning around. She keeps going when her feet hit the ground, walking past her clothes and into the most secluded piece of forest she can find. And then, with one hand braced against a tree, she slips the other between her legs and touches her clit until her back is misted with sweat and gold explodes behind her eyes.

This is part of my longer fic, Broken Horizons. Read the full thing here

#bg3 gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #my writing #gale fic #gale fanfic

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silhouetteonpaper · 2 days

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Stoic

Summary: When an organization threatens to destroy your families empire, your father immediately jumps into action by hiring security protection. Unaware of what that would entail, you’re unpleasantly surprised by the woman whose sole purpose to follow you around.

Yelena Belova x Reader

WC: 2,457

Warnings: Gun use, combat, teasing

A/N: I am so happy with how this banner turned out!! I’m going to post the full version of my Yelena portrait later :)

STOIC

Your father warned you about the need for increased protection, but you didn’t realize he’d actually follow through with it. Owning one of the biggest corporations in the country, your father was always on his toes in keeping his empire safe from harm—unfortunately that meant you were in the direct path of any malice acts, being his daughter and the Managing Director of his company.

So, when the unimpressed blonde woman appeared in your office, you weren’t too happy. “How can I help you?” You ask as you sit down at your desk. The shiny plaque labeled ‘Managing Director’ is pointed right in her direction, making you confused as to what this unknown entity could possibly want.

“I’m assigned to you as security protection,” She states with a deadpan expression, her accent making you raise a brow. You’ve never seen this woman before, and your father never directly expressed the need for hired protection like this.

“Let me talk to my boss about this,” you stood from your desk, brushing past her to find your father amongst the floor full of offices. Taking a deep breath, you try to calm the frustration building inside your chest. Just talk to Dad and he’ll fix this, you reassure yourself.

“Your father is the one who hired me.” She adds, making you turn around to realize the blonde is following you. She knows you’re the daughter of the CEO, so that has to mean something. But you still aren’t keen on this arrangement, and hope there has to be some better explanation for this.

“You can stay in my office, I’ll only be a moment.” You tell her as you pick up the pace. She only chuckles, following in your stead.

“I get paid to follow you around, that’s literally my job.” Her remark makes you roll your eyes, the only thing stopping you from talking back being the CEO’s office right in front of you. Opening the door, a man in a suit sits at his desk typing away. His gaze quickly lifts with a smile that soon falls as he spots the blonde behind you.

“I think I know what this is about,” He sighs, closing his laptop. You press your lips together and nod, waiting for an explanation as the two of you stand before his desk. “Due to security breaches, I think it’s best we have hired protection. It’s just a precaution, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

You raise a brow, confused about his reasoning. Sure, there were security breaches almost every day, but why this time does it require a need for security personnel? “What security breaches, Dad?” You inquire with crossed arms.

He rubs his forehead while gathering his thoughts. “There’s a large organization that’s after some of our assets. Unfortunately for us, they know what they’re doing. There’s been some back and forth with them for a while, but recently they’ve acquired access to a portion of our servers.” He admits.

Your eyes widen at the idea of an attack on the company. No one has made it into any of the servers before; whoever this organization is, they certainly are something to fear. You try to shake the worrisome news for now as you realize the blonde overheard everything your father was saying.

“This is a private matter, please go wait in my office.” You assert. She only exchanges a glance with your father who shifts uncomfortably.

“Yelena is already familiar with the ongoing threats to the company,” He admits. Yelena. The anger inside of you bubbles upwards, a deep breath only doing so much to calm the storm. He told her and hasn’t even mentioned it to me. The feeling of betrayal laced the rising frustration, your father having told a stranger about the attacks before his own daughter.

He could clearly see your rising irritation at the situation, because he gave his best attempt to console you. “I know this is a lot at once, but please just let Yelena do her job. I can’t risk anything happening to you.” He expresses with a warm, pleading smile. You let out an exasperated sigh, knowing there’s only one thing stronger than your father’s work ethic—his love for you.

“Fine. But from now on, you include me in any part of keeping these threats at bay.” You insist before exiting his office with red-hot anger radiating off of you. Your father has trusted you with so much of this company, yet for some reason has left you out of the dangerous work. You’re not afraid of whoever this organization is; if anything, you’re willing to get your hands dirty to make sure no one takes down your family’s empire.

Your scheming is interrupted by the footsteps of Yelena following close behind, her presence already infuriating you. It’s already hard enough working in a large business as a woman, having a babysitter certainly won’t help your credibility.

Thinking about what your father said, you decide to give it a try. He’s right, it’s better to be safe than sorry when the stakes are this large, even if the situation is less than ideal. As you sit back at your desk, Yelena stationing herself by the door like before, you try to look on the bright side and swallow the remaining anger for now. What you don’t realize is just how much you’ll need her help.

—————

A few days of being joined at the hip with Yelena and you’re slowly going crazy. Not only does she follow you around at the office, she goes with you everywhere. She’s an interesting personality, consistently offering sarcastic comments that only she finds funny. Your father certainly isn’t risking anything, and it’s driving you insane.

You’ve been used to solitude your whole life; being an only child, your father always on business trips, and your mother leaving at a young age because ‘Dad is married to work’. It’s not something you mind, but it makes living with a shadow extremely difficult.

“I always thought rich people pay someone to go shopping for them,” Yelena discloses as the two of you walk to the nearest grocery store. The city is busy, but the two of you easily make haste from your penthouse apartment to your usual grocery store.

“I prefer to do it myself,” you respond as the store’s entrance doors slide open. Yelena only gives an honorable nod while you grab a shopping basket. The two of you make your way up and down the aisles, your focus mostly on the specific items you’re trying to locate. Your gaze is only pulled away when you notice Yelena places something of her own in the basket.

You look down at the blue box, “Mac and cheese? Really?” You question while eyeing both the blonde and the bright yellow picture. The artificial color makes you slightly disgusted, you’d never buy something like this for yourself.

“It’s delicious. I have to eat too,” Yelena reasons, throwing in a second box. You sigh, accepting her meal choice and stepping further down the aisle.

“You’re so immature,” You jab, still annoyed at her presence that follows you everywhere you go.

She laughs, “you’re the one who needs a babysitter. You seriously don’t know how to fight?” Her remark gets under your skin more than you’d like it to, the familiar frustration rising as you place a box of pasta in the basket.

“I think I could handle myself if there was ever a need to fight back,” You respond, just wanting her to stop talking. The one good thing about being away from the office was the stress-free environment, and Yelena was seeming to take that away. She only laughs, finally ceasing her remarks as you head to the checkout line.

You see that the store is suddenly pretty empty, the only open checkout having no line. After placing the items onto the conveyor, you fish through your purse to find your wallet. You’re almost too focused on searching through the clutter to hear the click noise that draws your attention up slowly.

A black pistol is held up to your head, your heart nearly stopping as the cashier holds it steady with a finger on the trigger. Silence fills the store, only broken by your heartbeat loudly thumping in your chest. You’re frozen and quickly realize you can’t handle yourself, he has you stuck and you have no choice but to accept whatever fate this leads to.

Yelena seems to have other plans, though, as her foot makes contact with the gun. The loudest bang you’ve ever heard echoes through the linoleum floors as you duck, the unknown of where the bullet landed filling you with dread.

The gun falls to the floor with a clatter as the blonde successfully disarms the man, quickly pushing his arm over the conveyer and slamming his head down onto the counter edge. He doesn’t move, his limp hand hanging off the side.

You slowly rise, taking into account every limb to be sure you didn’t get shot. You felt no pain, but your increased adrenaline made you unsure. Luckily, you escaped with no scratches, Yelena picking up the gun from the floor and pocketing it in her waistband.

“C’mon, we need to get out of here,” she says while heading towards the exit. You can’t move, your feet stuck to the ground as you stare at the lifeless body before you. You’ve never seen a dead body, you’ve never even seen a gun in person like this. Did I almost just die? Was he about to kill me? You think to yourself, spiraling into the anxiety your high heart rate aids.

“Hey,” Yelena tries to get through to you, walking back over and placing a hand on your shoulder. “We need to move.” You’re finally snapped out of your stall, swallowing thick tears as you follow the blonde. Stealing a few more glances of the lifeless body, you can’t help but realize there truly is a threat, and you’re their next target.

You find yourself back at home, the building security already alerted of the situation. You’re safe here, the vast amounts of security and tens of floors offering a buffer if anyone decides to try their luck.

Yelena sits on your couch, cleaning a small wound she earned from the short-lived battle. You’re curled up on the other end, sinking into the cushions as you repeat the scene from earlier over and over. The black gun held to your head, your heart pounding, the loud bang, the chaos, the fear of death. You never imagined taking on the role of Managing Director would lead to this.

“Are you hungry?” You hear her ask, pulling you from your thoughts. You nod, looking up to see Yelena standing from the couch. “I’ll cook us something.” She decides, walking over to the kitchen. You contemplate stopping her, but the truth is you don’t feel like cooking for yourself right now. You aren’t even sure if you can stomach anything right now.

A handful of minutes pass and you hear Yelena searching through cabinets accompanied by the occasional clink of your porcelain dishes. “Dinner’s ready,” she calls out, causing you to reluctantly leave your spot on the couch.

You’re surprised to hear her cooking was completed that fast, but you’re even more surprised when you see the pot of yellow mac and cheese sitting on the table between two bowls and a content Yelena.

You exhale, sitting at the table and allowing the blonde to serve you a portion of her favorite food. It’s hard to deny the bright color leaves little room for any nutritional value, and you question if this is even a meal. But as you watch Yelena dig into her own bowl with delight, you decide to try it.

Oh, that’s not bad. You think to yourself after a spoonful. Soon, both of you are enjoying the simple meal of mac and cheese. You feel Yelena’s eyes on you, looking up to see her smirking. “I don’t want to hear a word.” You assert before she has the chance to make a snide comment.

Yelena puts her hands up in defense, “Hey, I’m not going to say I told you so, but you’re the one eating the mac and cheese I made,” She vocalizes. You shake your head, a matching smirk appearing. You haven’t seen this side of Yelena yet, and if anything it’s slightly more endearing than how she normally is.

“You’re pretty stoic, you know that right?” You tell her. She chuckles, keeping her gaze on the bowl she’s eating from.

“Thank you,” she takes your words as a compliment, not exactly how you intended them but it speaks to her character. “I’m here to protect you, not coddle you.” Yelena states. You tilt your head to the side, thinking on her words. Although mostly true, her statement made you realize something.

“Protection isn’t just physical, it’s also mental,” you start. Yelena looks up at you quizzically. “Like this dinner, you cooked it for me because I obviously wasn’t up to the task. It’s not stopping a gunned assailant, but it’s still protection.” The blonde ponders your words for a moment, pausing her eating.

Maybe your words really made her think, because she seems to soften her expression a bit. “You’ve surprised me,” Yelena admits, resuming her feasting. You raise your eyebrows, unsure what you’ve done to shock someone as reserved as the blonde before you. “I thought you’d be this snobby ‘daddy’s girl’ who’s had everything handed to her. I don’t think you’re like that anymore.”

You chuckle lightly, a little insulted she ever assumed you were that kind of girl, but heartened you’ve somehow proved her wrong. You’re even more impressed she’s admitting it to you, free of any sarcastic quips.

“Thanks, I think. You’re not so terrible yourself. I thought you’d be this stone-faced security hire, but you’ve got some other redeeming qualities too.” You smirk, finally able to return her teasing.

She matches your expression, laughing as the two of you finish off your bowls of mac and cheese. “I guess there’s more to us both than the labels others choose.” You nod at her comment, the idea reining true as most people don’t expect much from someone who likely has their job due to nepotism.

But now you realize your frustration about Yelena was mostly surrounding the version of her you didn’t know well. Her sarcastic comments and teasing were only annoying when you didn’t take a second to see what she found amusing. Now, you see how lighthearted she actually is, and decide that maybe this situation won’t be the worst thing after all.

#marvel #mcu #the avengers #marvel fanfic #yelena belova #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova art

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lightlycareless · 1 day

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heyyyy:33 love reading your nao x reader headcanons, i am feeling bit angsty and been wondering how would naoya react if something goes wrong during yn's labor. like she starts screaming, trashing around and is in lots of pain.

Hello anon!!! You want angst??? WELL YOU GOT ANGST.

Actually it's not that much, but hey, it's not that nice either so... I hope it's to your enjoyment still!

warnings: pregnancy. going into labor. the fear of a baby dying. bleeding. naoya suffers. 🥺

Happy reading!

Something going wrong when Y/N is in labor is hands down, Naoya’s worst nightmare. He might’ve prepared everything so to keep risks to the minimum, and yet, there are moments where that is all he thought about.

That, and the worse version of his fears: the two don’t make it.

He tries his best not to think about it, Ranta also tries his best to distract him as soon as anxiety etches his features. And you…

Well, you wish you could offer a viable solution, disappear so the sight of you doesn’t have him spiraling, yet remain close because he needs you and he’s your husband, for crying out loud! You don’t want to be away from him, not even for a second, while pregnant!

But… everything was proving too hard for you to deal with on your own, and stresses like these could only do harm to your pregnancy, alongside those awful thoughts that would cross your mind in the worst moments possible: the idea that maybe Naoya… maybe he didn’t want a family with you anymore.

However, the love both had for one another, for the mochi growing inside you, alongside the support of your family and friends, these obstacles were soon forgotten, replaced with the excitement of the fast approaching day of delivery, the moment you’ll finally be able to hold your baby, as well as see if they were a boy or a girl—not that it mattered, for they’d be unconditionally loved anyways.

Everything was carefully tended to, starting by ignoring the Zen’in’s insane request of having you deliver the baby at the estate, in less than prepared conditions and away from your family just because they wanted.

Nope, not happening. Instead, he arranged your stay at one of the best hospitals of Tokyo, a whole floor with dedicated personnel to solely attend to you; just to begin with.

Your family was naturally impressed by Naoya’s dedication to once again go to these lengths. And yet, he wasn’t doing anything they wouldn’t have done for you; in fact, they also gave their own suggestions to further ensure your safety!

«Well, at least we know she’ll be ok with Naoya…»

“I’m going to be fine.” You’d tell them, slightly overwhelmed by their worries. “Though I do think Naoya might’ve gone a bit over the top…”

“It’s only necessary.” Naoya interjects. “No one outside of the necessary people will disturb you, everything you need will be tended for, and you’ll also be in presence of your friends and family.”

“Friends…?” You repeat slowly, because at that point you only expected your family to be there, not your trusted staff, who were grinning at the prospect of accompanying you during one of the most important stages of your life! “Oh my god, you’re here!”

“What, thought you’d get rid of us just because you’re having a baby??” Haruko grins.

“I’m offended by how poorly you think of us.” Hitomi teases.

“I—I didn’t expect you guys to be here! I thought you’d be busy or—or something!” You chuckle. “I’m speechless!”

“Don’t be too speechless, we still have to make the most of the city before you’re admitted into the hospital! I personally have never been to Tokyo, so I’m planning on taking all the tours.” Mariya enthusiastically suggests.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, did you forget my wife is very much pregnant?” Naoya frowns, she laughs.

“We’re just joking, Naoya—what kind of godmother would I be if I didn’t care for her?”

And in this precise moment, you genuinely believed it couldn’t get any better than this. Surrounded by the people you loved; nothing could ruin this!

Unless your contractions were to begin a bit earlier than anticipated, followed by a numbing, stinging pain that made you freeze on your track, drop everything on the spot to tightly hold onto your stomach; a feeble attempt to stop whatever it was that had you such mortifying state… rushed to the hospital when blood soaked your garments, your and Naoya’s worst nightmare abruptly becoming real.

Without time to waste, you’re quickly checked into your designated room to be urgently attended by the doctor of his choosing, the supposedly best there is in all of Tokyo—no, Japan—who alongside his entourage began to urgently prepare everything for your procedure, for your symptoms were not expected neither wanted in a pregnancy.

But if that wasn’t anxious enough for your husband, your screams of gut-wrenching pain that only worsened as time went on were enough, were enough to get him spiraling.

“Help her!” Naoya demands, more than ready to rattle the doctor into action if needed.

“We can’t let you in if you’re going to disrupt the patient.” The doctor warns, further fueling your husband’s desperation. He’s just a mere second away from losing himself, just one more word and he’ll—

“Naoya, please, calm down—” Thankfully, your father was there to put a stop to his anger, a genuine sympathetic approach for he’s gone through his fair share of pregnancies—things like these don’t scare him that much, but they still worry him.

How could it not? The probability of losing his daughter, the youngest, his first grandchild too…! And just after loosing his wife as well…

It’s a pain he would never wish upon anyone. Certainly not on his distraught son-in-law….

So, what good is it to hire the best, if they’re not going to do their job?!

Naoya freezes upon hearing another heart-wrenching scream come out of you, heart dropping to his stomach as he hears you demand them to get the baby out, stop your suffering and just—help you!

He doesn’t want to hear more of this, he doesn’t want to see nor hear you suffering so, but he doesn’t know what to do, he doesn’t know how to act nor what to say that could get you out of this awful predicament and back into safety, into the world where you and his child were ok and all this was nothing but an awful nightmare!

But the same moment he was debating what to do, your father already made his decision, walking past him and straight into your room, firmly determined to support his daughter through whatever destiny fate instilled on you—even if it meant death.

A sight that soon snapped Naoya out of his struggle, feeling like an absolute idiot for even hesitating! He’s been through life-or-death situations before, why is he suddenly cowering now, pitying himself?! When you need him the most?!

What poor excuse of a husband he was being; a despicable father compared to yours.

Once snapping out of his dark thought and gathering all of his courage, he steps into your room, heading straight to your side, opposite of your father and takes your hand, letting you hold it as tight as you needed—whatever the sacrifice he had to make to ensure your safety, he’d willingly oblige.

“Nao—Naoya—” you breathed, looking up to him. “It—It hurts!”

“She’s losing too much blood.” A nurse would note. “She’s still not dilated enough.”

“My baby—I don’t want my baby to die” you fret.

“She won’t.” Naoya reassures. “She won’t die, I swear—”

“We’ll have to induce her labor to help her dilate, and if that doesn’t work, then a c-section will have to do.” The doctor explains, hoping to get his permission.

“Anything.” Your husband pleads. “Anything to save my wife, my family, please!”

Because he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he loses you. Life would cease to matter at that point.

But thankfully his prayers were to be heard, and with the quick, highly prepared skills of medical staff, were you freed of all complications, ensuring not only your safety, but that of the baby as well, perfect just as the two envisioned her to be.

“Naoya, our baby.” You’d breathe, face lightening up when the nurse finally placed the small, chubby bundle you’ve been waiting to hold for 9 long months in your arms, holding her softly against your skin as you gushed. “Our baby is—”

“She’s a girl.” The doctor says. “A healthy girl.”

“A girl.” You cry, tears of happiness dampening your cheeks, struggling to believe what was before your eyes. “Naoya, we had a beautiful baby girl!”

There are no words to describe what Naoya feels at this very moment: to the sight of you lovingly holding onto your baby, the highest demonstration of love between the two, after so much suffering.

Though he could start with love at first sight, something he already believed existed, but when his eyes laid on his beautiful baby girl, he was completely sure of it now.

“She has your hair.” You comment on the small patch of black hair on the top of her head.

“And your nose.” He responds, gently poking it.

“Ha! How can you even know so? It looks like a regular nose to me.” You giggle—only to gasp a few seconds after being given the breathtaking sight of your baby slowly opening her eyes for the first time, a revelation that made your heart flutter. “Naoya—she… she has your eyes! Oh, my love, she looks just like you…”

Deep within him, Naoya always hoped the baby would look like you—with your big round eyes, your silky, soft hair, and adorable cheeks he always loved to tease. He thought she’d looked far better with your features than his own anyways, and wished would be that way.

But there was something about seeing you gush about her likeness that struck his heart with adoration, feeling appreciated and fiercely protective of the precious, tiny baby in your arms.

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but I need to know the name of the baby before continuing” Another nurse said, and a wide smile spreads across your lips as you gently poke her cheek, already imagining the agony her father would put her through.

“Naomi.” You say, eyes intently focused on your daughter. “Zen’in Naomi.”

Named after her father, perhaps the only tradition you kept from the Zen’in, because there was nothing else you wanted more than for the world to know of the man that has made you so happy, the love of your life, either through your affection, or Naomi, your new family.

“A granddaughter, I have a granddaughter!!” Your father would proclaim, tears in his eyes as he accepts the baby from your arms, who was now wrapped in a soft pink blanket he got as a gift, with you proudly smiling at his excitement. “Oh, she’s beautiful Y/N!”

“Welcome to the family, little one!” Hinata grins, eager to take her niece into her arms as well, but patient enough to not do so until her turn. “You don’t know how happy we are to finally have you here!”

“Can’t wait to see you grow up and give your parents a run for their money.” Ren teases, you pout.

“My baby is going to be a nice, well-behaved girl.” You respond. “Unlike you guys…”

“Though she will be spoiled.” Naoya promises.

“Well, it can’t be spoiled if it’s what she deserves, right?” you say, he nods along. Your family fears the lengths you’d both go to do so; you and Naoya are already ruthless as it is…

But even then, they genuinely knew they had nothing to worry about—for as long as they were around, nothing bad would befall little Naomi.

As expected, the exhaustion of the past few hours finally caught up to you, at first making you yawn before your eyelids began to grow heavier and heavier; a sight that didn’t go unnoticed for too long, your father gathering everyone around for their departure.

“We’ll be outside if you need us.” Eiichi promises, carefully handing Naomi back to Naoya. “Rest, pumpkin, you deserve it.”

“Thanks, dad…” you yawn. “I feel like I could sleep for years.”

Eiichi chuckles, leaning forward to place a kiss on your forehead before moving onto Naoya, patting his shoulder.

“Congratulations, Naoya. You’ll be a great father.”

Naoya smiles, warmed by the words his father wasn’t there to give him, gladly accepting them in his heart as they promptly make their exit. Once alone, your husband places Naomi into the crib nearby, placing a kiss on her head and eventually making his way to you, to give you a kiss as well.

“You did amazingly, my love.” But as much as you wished to enjoy this moment, the agony of past experiences swiftly makes way to your mind.

“…I was scared, Naoya. So, so afraid that something would happen to me, or worse, our baby.” You tremble.

“I know, I know.” He coos, softly removing some unruly hair strands from your face as tears begin to pool in his eyes. “But it’s over, all that is gone—we have Naomi now.”

“I was afraid of leaving you behind.” You continue. “I… I didn’t want you to face all this by yourself. The thought of you having no one to rely on frightens me like you have no idea. At one point I thought I wouldn’t be able to see you—”

“That was my worst fear too. I loathed even thinking about the possibility of returning home without you.” The moment you notice the tears forming in his eyes, you quickly reach out for him—to the best of your ability anyways, much to his worry. “No, Y/N, you have to rest—”

“Thank you for being by my side.” You murmur, hugging him tightly. He returns the gesture soon after. “I’m so glad to have found someone like you, to be my husband, and now father of my daughter.”

“…What did I do to deserve you?”

“Well, you gave me an adorable baby girl, as of recent!” you sniffle through a giggle, making Naoya chuckle. “From there, all that I ever wanted, really. From food, clothes, even holidays…”

Naoya blushes, proud of his consistent commitment to you and the happiness it provided you. And yet, that was not to be the end of his fluster—not without your following words.

“But most importantly, your love.” You smile. “If anything, I should be wondering what I’ve done to deserve you…”

“Your mere existence is justifying enough for me.” He responds quickly, another tear sliding down his cheek, which you swipe soon after. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You kiss him. “And our new family.”

…

“I know some mothers feel the desire to have another child as soon as their baby is born, but after what happened, I think it’s best for now if we hold off that idea for a while. Don’t you agree?” You suddenly say.

“Yeah, couldn’t have said it any better. Though something tells me Naomi is going to be quite the handful to begin with…”

“Considering she looks just like you, I’d say you’re right.” you laugh, he rolls his eyes before kissing you once more.

#ask #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk angst #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

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zxvmp · 2 days

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Strangers - Ethel Cain

“Can I be yours? Just tell me i’m yours. If i’m turning in your stomach and making you feel sick. Am I making you feel sick?”

summary: based off the lyrics, you and (mha boy) have been friends for a long time now and you’ve been crushing on them for the longest. So, when they started avoiding you, you started overthinking things.

tags: angst with happy ending, slight depression, body dysmorphia, kissing, dumb confessions, overthinking, implied fem! reader but it could lowk be gender neutral

a/n: idea popped in my brain and i had to write it sorry not sorry 😢 i would’ve done other characters but I didn’t realize how long I wrote for kaminari and i def don’t feel like writing that much for more than two characters rn soo…. if you want a pt.2 with other characters lmk 🤪

characters: Denki Kaminari, Shoto Todoroki

Denki Kaminari

You sat in the cafeteria staring at Kaminari from afar. He was sitting with Jirou laughing and eating. That used to be you sitting next to him, laughing over the dumbest things with food in your mouth. About two weeks ago, he began avoiding you and not replying to your texts. Whenever you’d go up to him in person about it, he’d wave you off or ignore your questions.

“Why didn’t you reply?”

“You texted me?”

You frowned and pulled out your phone, “Yeah, I was asking if you wanted to have a movie night like we always do.”

He rubbed the back of his head while averting his eyes away from yours. You could tell by his facial expression and body language he didn’t want to.

You let out a shaky sigh, “It’s fine. I understand if you’re busy.”

“N-No it’s not that- it’s just…” He exhaled a long breath, “yeah, i’m busy.”

You thought back to that encounter for 14 days straight, constantly on loop. It stabbed at your mind and heart repeatedly. Over and over. Sure, if it was a one time thing you would be over it. But it wasn’t a one time thing. He’d always bail on you and cover it up with some shitty lie.

One time he told you he was hanging out with bakugo and kirishima, a boys night. You completely understood and didn’t pry him any further. Later, you found out he had hung out with Jirou the entire night.

“(Y/N)? Aren’t you going to eat?”

You blinked a couple times before taking your eyes off of where Kaminari was sitting. You hadn’t even noticed he left. Your tray had an apple in the main compartment, untouched.

“I’m full,” you stood up from your chair, “see ya Yaomomo. I’m gonna go to my dorm.”

“Wait! But what about afternoon classes?”

You grabbed your tray and tossed your apple in the garbage while you placed your empty tray in the pile of others, “Tell Aizawa i’m sick.”

You’d been skipping afternoon classes for a couple days now. You didn’t feel like going. Not when you had so many thoughts on your mind.

When you got inside of your dorm, you stared at yourself in your mirror. You felt ugly and disgusted with yourself. Looking at yourself made you think of all the times Kaminari looked at you. Did he really see everything you were looking at?

You felt your throat close up and your eyes began to water.

Instead of looking at yourself more, you changed into more comfortable clothes and took a nap to try and escape your thoughts. Sleeping always made you feel somewhat better.

When you woke up, you checked your phone first. It had a couple of messages from your friends and notifications from other apps. Yaomomo sent you pictures of everything your class did in the afternoon. You shot her a thank you text and turned off your phone.

You ran a hand through your hair as you let out a sigh. Your stomach began to grumble, so you got up and slid on your slippers. Before leaving your dorm, you caught a glimpse of your body in your mirror again. Your hair was slightly disheveled, so you put it in a messy low bun.

You grabbed your P.E. jacket before leaving and put it on.

When the elevator doors opened to the main floor it was empty and dark. You didn’t expect anyone to be in there since it was late at night. Except, when you walked more towards the seating area, you saw Kaminari slouched on the couch with a cup of water clutched in his hand. You took in a sharp gasp and stopped in your tracks.

Kaminari turned his head, “…(Y/N)?”

Your heart stung and you could feel your breath become uneven.

“What’re you doing up so late? And why haven’t you been coming to the afternoon classes?” Kaminari usual always had a laid back or goofy expression, so seeing him have such a concerning look on his face hit you deeply.

“I- I’m sorry, I didn’t know you’d be down here. I can go back to my dorm.” You stared down at your feet and picked at your finger nails to avoid looking at him.

“No! You’re fine. Is everything okay?”

Your eyes shot up towards his. You wanted to yell at him and tell him no, everything wasn’t okay. You wanted to scream at him and ask him why he had been treating you the way he was. But you didn’t. You didn’t because when your eyes met each other you could tell he was hurting too. He had slight eye bags under his eyes and he looked drained.

“Am I making you feel sick?” Your voice slightly cracked as you spoke. Tears began to form in the corners of your eyes.

Kaminaris eye brows rose, your words hurt him. “What? Of course not!” He stared at you and took you in. All of you. The way your body was skinnier than usual, how your eyes weren’t as bright as they normally were, everything. He could read you like a book.

Despite that, you still looked beautiful in his eyes. The way you shined in the moonlight had his heart racing.

“Then why…” You pause, trying your best to hold in your tears. “Why, Kaminari?”

He swallowed a lump in his throat.

No reply.

You could feel your heart shatter into pieces.

Before you could turn your back to walk away, he got up and walked towards you. He stood only a couple of centimeters away. You could feel your chest tightening as you stared up at him. He looked down at you with such a yearning expression.

Kaminari took a step closer and brought you into a tight hug, cradling his head into the gap between your neck and shoulder.

You stood still, trying to comprehend what was happening. What broke you out of your trance was when you could feel him begin to shake against you.

He began to cry.

The goofy, light hearted Kaminari you knew wasn’t the one hugging you right now.

“I’m so sorry. For everything, (Y/N). You have no idea how many times i’ve wanted to apologize to you and express how I truly felt.” He sniffled, as he backed away from you, keeping his hands on your shoulders. “And yes, I know. I should’ve just said this from the beginning instead of ignoring you and stupidly trying to replace you with Jirou, which, by the way, didn’t work clearly.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “What’re you talking about Kaminari?”

He blinked a couple of times before replying, “Oh, right.” He let go of you and took in a deep breath. “(Y/N), I really like you. I can’t ever get you off my mind. I love your hair, the way you smile, and how you can always make me laugh. I love everything about you. I’m sorry I never told you. I was too scared you’d reject me and it’d fuck up our awesome friendship, so I kept it to myself and tried to focus on someone else.”

“Kaminari-”

“Wait, i’m not done.” He held up his pointer finger, “I know you probably hate me now, and I understand. I’d hate me too if I was treated the way I treated you. I wake up everyday regretting what i’ve done. And I know my words won’t heal what I did but-”

“Just shut up and kiss me dude.”

Your words shock you both, but you really did want him to kiss you. You heard enough of what he had to say.

“K-Kiss you?”

“Yes.”

“You’re not mad at me?”

“We’ll talk later. About everything. Right now, I just want you to kiss me.”

He didn’t hesitate to close the gap between you two, grabbing your hips to pull you in closer. You smiled into the kiss as you adjusted your head for a better angle.

The kiss was filled with passion, hunger, and a slight hint anger. When the two of you pulled away, breathless, he smiled. His eyes were beaming and filled with happiness, and so were yours.

For the first time in two weeks, you felt a weight lifted off your shoulders.

Shoto Todoroki

Becoming friends with Todoroki was an interesting experience. Not only was it difficult, but it was fun. You found an interest in him. For one, he was unbelievably attractive and strong, but was kind. He didn’t show it in school the first couple of weeks, but once he warmed up, he was a total sweetheart.

One day, Kirishima took everyone out to ice cream when your class first move into the dorms. You were the last in line to choose what you wanted, Todoroki was in front of you. After you got what you wanted, you sneezed and accidentally dropped your cone in the process. You were sad about it, but you didn’t say anything and decided to not tell Kirishima about it to save him money.

When you were walking with your friends back to the dorms, Todoroki handed you a replacement for your dropped cone.

“I got you another ice cream.” He handed you an ice cream cone with two scoops of your favorite flavor, “I saw you dropped it before you had the chance to eat it.”

You gasped as you took the cone from him, “Thank you so much Todoroki! You totally didn’t have to. How much was it? I can pay you back.”

He held his hand up and shook his head with a smile, “It’s fine.”

After that day, you hand a huge crush on him. Not only did he buy you an ice cream, but he continued the small kind gestures. He’d gift you your favorite candy from time to time, always telling you it was ‘just a small gift’. Of course, you’d return the action with something he really liked.

Going out to eat soba.

You started to realize how bad of a crush you had on him when you couldn’t even function properly near him. He was in line next to you for lunch? You went to the back of the line. An invite to train before going to bed? You’d pass. Studying together for a test? Yaoyorozu seemed like the better option.

If he had asked any of those questions in the beginning of your friendship, you wouldn’t hesitate to agree! But now, it was a different story.

Hello, up for some training today? 🙂 (6:00a.m.)

No thanks i’m soo tired

You stared at your screen for a while as you sighed. You hated lying to him. You’d been bailing on him for the past two weeks now. When you’d see him in class you’d try your best to make it seem like you were busy, but he’d always greet you. It didn’t help he said right next to you.

“Good morning (Y/N).” He gave you a quick smile as he sat down.

You sucked in a quick sharp breath, “Morning.”

“Is something wrong? Your face is flushed.”

‘Oh god.’ You waved him off, “I’m fine, i’m just trying to revise my notes, okay?” Your tone was slightly harsh, more harsh than you intended.

Todoroki blinked a couple times before nodding, “Sorry…”

When you saw him turn to his notes in your peripheral vision, you turned to look at him. He seemed sad. Were you being to mean?

Aizawa came into class and started to take attendance. Your mind was racing with thoughts throughout the entire class time. Should you just tell him how you feel and get it off your chest? Or take the easy way out and continue to ignore him.

The easy way seemed like the better option.

You couldn’t believe you were doing this to him.

Even with you being dry with him and avoiding him as much as possible, he continued to give you your weekly bag of candy.

“Thanks, Sho…” You took the bag and held it at your side as you stared at the ground. “Hey, how about we get some soba? My treat.”

Todorokis eyes lit up, “That sounds good.”

While you ate your soba, you felt your heart thumping out of your chest. You hated how nervous you were around him. You wished it could be how it was when you first met him. You were more comfortable and free.

There was nothing wrong with having a crush on him, you just wished you didnt. In your eyes, Todoroki was a very neat and well preserved person who kept to himself. You didn’t believe he’d even think about dating a person.

“(Y/N), can I ask you something?”

You clutched your chopsticks, “Y-Yeah?” ‘Fuck.’

“How come you’ve been acting so distant? Have I don’t anything to upset you?”

Todoroki had a sad expression. He barely touched his soba.

“Distant?” You nervously laugh, “I haven’t been distant, and you haven’t don’t anything wrong, don’t worry.”

He clutched his chopsticks for a moment before releasing his grip. His eyes lowered and you could see a frown form on his lips.

You couldn’t take the tension anymore.

“I’m gonna head back to the dorms, goodnight sho.” You quickly got up and left money on the table to pay for both your meals.

“Wait! (Y/N)-”

You didn’t wait for him. You couldn’t.

It wasn’t until you were a couple of steps away from the store that you felt someone grab your arm, gently. You whipped your head around and relaxed slightly once you saw who it was.

Todoroki gripped your arm gently before releasing it. His eyes widened in shock as he realized what he’d done. He didn’t mean to grab you like that.

You could tell from the look on his face that he was beginning to panic. Todoroki told you about his father and what he did to him when he was younger. He always told you how much he hated his father and how he never wanted to be like him.

“I-I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I didn’t mean to grab you like that.” He stared down at the ground as he clenched his fists on his sides.

You furrowed your eyebrows and took a step closer to him, reaching your hand out to rest it on his shoulder, “You’re fine Sho, relax.”

He relaxed his body and took in a deep breath, “Please be truthful when I say this,”

‘Oh no..’

“Am I the problem?”

“Todoroki…”

“H-Have I upset you in any way? I’m sorry if I have. I didn’t mean it. I promise.”

You’d never seen him like this. Todoroki never stumbled over his words or broke down like this. It was both scary and sad at the same time.

“Am I making you feel sick?”

Now, his eyes were looking down into yours. He was crying. Your hand dropped from his shoulder as you looked up at him in shock.

“No,” you brought him into a hug, wrapping your arms tightly around his torso, “you could never make me feel sick sho. Don’t ever say that again.”

He hesitated before hugging you back, sniffling as he rested his head atop of yours.

“I like you Todoroki, more than you can imagine. I’m sorry for avoiding you and acting the way I did. I should’ve told you from the very beginning.” Your heart was beating out of your chest and your words were spilling out of your mouth like an overflowing sink. “Please don’t be sad.”

“Thank you for telling me (Y/N), I understand now.” He pulled back to look at your face.

You stared up at him, trying to read his expression.

“I like you too.”

All the stress and anxiety left your body when you heard him say that. You never would’ve guessed he’d return the same feelings.

“Y-You do?”

“Yes, I’m sorry I never told you.”

You shook your head and rested your head on his chest, hugging him again, “Don’t apologize. I’m the only one that needs to do that.”

It was a cold night. A cold night you never would’ve guessed would turn into you hugging Todoroki in front of his favorite soba place.

You felt his hand come up to cup your jaw, gently tilting your head up towards him. There was silence between the two of you, but you could tell what he wanted, and you wanted it too.

His lips were warm against yours, perfectly molded. Your hands clenched into his uniform jacket as he deepened the kiss. He so desperately wanted to do this. He wanted you to be his.

He pulled away, and you took this as your change to catch your breath. He smiled and gave you a quick peck before resting his forehead on yours, “Will you be my girlfriend?”

•••

a/n; if there’s any errors, pretend they aren’t there okay?

#Spotify #mha x reader #mha boys #denki kaminari #kaminari x reader #denki x reader #bakugo katuski #bakugou x reader #shouto todoroki #todoroki x reader #izuku mydoria #deku #izuku x reader

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roseshewrites · 24 hours

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BEING DADS WON! It only took a month idk. God. So for the long wait, here's 7,418 words of Alastor and Lucifer being Dads. Mostly Alastor because the idea of him being a girl dad is just ughhhh 🥰😘😘 please ~

Brought to you by several original characters, and "I don't know how to write long fics in order" and "Here's an out of context ending from my extended Male Pregnancy radioapple AU and I hope it makes sense but it probably doesn't."

QUESTIONS YOU MIGHT HAVE:

Who got pregnant with who?

LUCIFER, and they were twins.

HOW?

He's a hermaphrodite idk what to tell you.

WHAT ARE THEIR DAD NAMES?

Lucifer is dad

Alastor is pops

SUMMARY!

Melody Hartfelt-Morningstar has noticed her pops has been distant lately, and wants to know why.

Melody stood in the kitchen doorway, shifting from foot to foot. In all her sixteen years, she knew her pops only made Jambalaya on one day of the year, and that it was really important to him; but he tended to get a bit sentimental and snippy (more than usual) and you were in for a fifty-fifty chance of loving to sarcastic if you happened to bug him.

But the video camera she was holding in her hands was seriously busted and she needed help. Like, on the level of thirty thousand subscribers waiting on another family vlog update that she was -never- late on.

Taking a deep breath, staring at his back as he mixed away at a bubbling, delicious smelling concoction at the stove, she said, "Pops."

No answer.

She sighed. "Pops. Poppa."

Back still turned, still clattering around, now chopping something up, probably shrimp.

"Pop," she said again, "POPSICLE."

He slammed a knife down on the counter and whirled around, snapping, "WHAT, Melody!"

She gave him a sheepish smile, holding up her busted camera. "I need a new one."

He sighed, seeming to ease up a little, thank god. "Can't you ask your dad? I am busy."

"No," she wandered over to scoop up a spoon and pop a steaming hot slice of sausage into her mouth, expertly dodging a swift hand slap which caught her elbow instead. She said around a hot mouthful, "I want you to do it."

"What happened to this one I made you?"

"Harmony. She dropped it."

That was a lie. Her sister, in a fit of rage during another of their fights, had actually thrown it at the wall so hard that the screen had shattered and now hung despondently attached by just a sad little wire. She wasn't about to mention that dent in the wall either, which she had carefully covered with a poster.

There was a flash of green, and her pops handed her the newly fixed up camera, commencing his cooking. Melody leaned against the island counter in front of the stove, hopping up and watched him silently, fiddling with the camera, "Blutooth capabilities, pop?"

He cast her a sharp red eyed glance. "Do I look like I care about that?"

"Yes," she flashed him a sweet little grin, "Pleeeese."

When he had refixed it, she did a little happy kick with her feet. "Yay. Thank you."

Melody lost no time turning on the camera, pointing it at her pop's head and pressing Record. She watched him through the little screen. Red hair, black streaks at the end, the ears on top of his head turning back a little when she said, "So..jambalaya. Grandmom's death day?"

"Yes, dear."

"Tell me 'bout her."

"She had a sense of humor."

"Really? Like how?"

"Well...."

Her pops whirled around again, a glint in his eyes, taking in how she was pointing the camera straight at his face, and she didn't have time to react before his hand closed over the lense and shut the little screen with a neat snap.

"She used to do things like this!!"

Her foot was pulled, and she fell off the counter, screeching.

"The paain! The disrespect!!" She had swiftly opened the camera again and wallowed on the floor pretending to cry in agony while her pops dug a toe into her armpit making her giggle.

"Go bother your dad or something. Scoot."

"This is what I know- ow- about Grand mom," she relented, holding the camera above her face and zooming in on her pop's unamused eyes, "Her name was Eleanor. She had dark skin. Curly dark hair. Curly hair that I have," she added, "She had a sense of humor. And was an excellent cook. That's all. Sixteen years of life in this existence and that's all I know about her."

"Bon Diyè, Melody..."

"See," she zoomed in further, "You stopped teaching me that Haitian stuff a long time ago. Like when I turned ten. How come? But I still know that meant 'good Heavens' which means you've become QUITE exasperated with me-"

"Exasperated would be an understatement-"

"-So are you gonna teach me more Haitian Creole? Or more French?"

"This minute, I'd like to teach you a lesson for bugging the stew out of me when I desire some peace and quiet!"

"Your southern is showing. Why do we bother the stew out of things? What's more, why do we bless each other's hearts when we really mean 'fuck you?'

"Language."

"But I have so many questions."

Finally she got bored of trying to pull more answers out of her pops and got to her feet, dusting off her ripped jeans and shaking her head so her blond curly hair fell back around her cheeks instead of nesting up.

"Fine whatever. We don't talk about shit in this house anymore."

She thought she saw her pops tensing a bit at that statement but it could have been her imagination. Camera pointed at her conversed feet, she left, ignoring her pops voice going, "Mels.."

Nah, too late, if he wanted to apologize for being distant, whatever. She'd leave him alone.

She managed to zone in on her twin in the living room. Finding Harmony wasn't hard; all you had to do was detect which area of the house Metallica or Blink-182 was vibrating the walls. When she walked in though, she was greeted by such a silly sight that she immediately grinned and held up her camera again, her sour mood lifted for now.

There was her dark haired twin sitting criss cross on the coffee table, leaning forward and wielding a tube of black lipstick which she was currently using on their dad, who had abandoned his usual white suit for an all-black getup.

"Stretch your lips out," she was telling him, "Like really, or the lipstick will cake up."

Lucifer obeyed her, going, "I think that's called SMILING. Oh hey!" He caught a glimpse of Melody in the doorway. "Hey Mels. Check it out. Am I cool yet?" He flashed a peace sign, duck-facing his half-madeup lips at her camera.

Melody zoomed in on her dad's pale, black makeup-covered face, and yelled "Yeah-heaah!!! The coolest!!"

It really did look amazing. Harmony had done a smoky eye on him and it really brought out the crimson color of his eyes.

"Are those false lashes?"

Melody walked behind him to cam-focus on her twin now, who, true to her edgy punk nature, gave her sister the bird.

"You betcha. Oh Harms, stop. Give me that," he added to his other daughter, who was silently waving at him impatiently to finish her project.

He swooped the lipstick up and finished it, peering into a mirror popping his lips a couple times for good measure. Melody saw him frown in the mirror he was holding up, locking eyes with her reflection behind him.

"Hey you good, kiddo?"

Melody shrugged, looking away from her dad's eyes in the mirror and accidentally locked eyes with her twin instead who gave her a quizzical 'what's up?' expression, her dark brows raising.

"Nothing," she replied to Harmony's silent question, then, "-I mean yeah I'm good," she answered her dad. "So good. I'm so good right now."

"Uh-huh."

Lucifer shut the large compact mirror with a snap and leaned around, "Cause that's the face of someone having a really good time."

She stuck her tongue out at him and he retaliated by grabbing at it. She dodged his hand, smiling despite herself.

"Don't get cheeky."

Just then, a familiar radio-tinged voice fell into the already loud metal-music filled room saying, "Dinner is ready. Oh my ears, what is this noise!"

"Aren't Charlie and Vaggie supposed to be coming by?" Harmony hopped up from her seat at the coffee table, plopping several tubes of makeup into a nearby container, "And that noise is Metallica. Dad likes it. Don't you, dad?"

"I can tolerate it. And I don't know, they mentioned coming by, but my feelings won't be hurt if they don't. They're so busy lately.."

Melody edged back as her family made their way to the door where her pops was standing, and she was trying to make her way toward the hallway and then her room when she realized they were the only two left in the living room.

She pointed her camera at him. God, he seemed annoyed.

"Come eat," he said, then, "Ugh!" She watched him through the camera as he reached to hit the power button on the CD player by the door, then he repeated, "Melody, dinner is ready. And will you put that blasted camera down for one minute?"

"I'm not hungry. And no. It's my eyeballs."

"Well you don't need eyes to eat."

"I'm. Not. Hungry."

"Young lady, what is your problem!"

"I don't have one," she snapped, "And you do. You have all the problems and you won't talk about them. You won't even talk about the good memories. You won't talk about HER. Why?!"

"That's none of your concern."

"Fine," she snapped her camera shut and began to stalk off, "I bet Eleanor Hartfelt just loooooves who her son became! What a gentleman! He only cooks her favorite food once a year, and the rest of the time he acts like she bloody never existed!!"

She heard her dad rushing back in to defuse whatever it was, heard pops' exclamation of frustration and her sister piping in, but Melody paid no attention to any of it and just yanked through the first door she came to, shutting it behind her.

Upon closer examination she was actually in her sister's room, but it didn't matter anyway. She just curled up on a dark purple blanket and grabbed the nearest stuffed animal and pressed her face into some pillows, silently listening. She heard footsteps and her dad's voice, muffled through the door and directed at his husband.

"No. Nuh-uh leave her alone you'll just make it worse."

Melody dug her face further into the pillow and waited till she heard receding footsteps before she sat up, her sister's dragon plushie still in her arms and hugged it, staring blankly at the wall.

It wasn't fair, not at all.

Pops used to be so open with stuff. Melody remembered sitting in his lap, pressing her ears to his chest just to feel his heartbeat while he stroked her hair and sang to her in that musical language she had grown to love. Even now she struggled to remember it. She tried to sing some of it to herself now, but she got tongue tied and gave up.

She sat there for a while. Till hell's sun began to set and cast orange and red gleaming beams through the slats in the blinds and eventually gave way to blue and black darkness; the door opened softly and her sister entered, sitting on her own bed and sliding neatly to sit beside her twin, putting her arms around her.

"Don't sit in the dark, Mels. That's my job."

Melody sniffed. Now that her twin was close, she felt near close to bawling. They laid back on the bed in each others arms and Melody clung to her, plushie and all, and finally let loose with it.

"I'm sorry I broke your camera," Harmony whispered.

"It's not- about- that," Melody sob laughed as her sister settled closer to her, arms all the way around her.

"I know."

When Melody's gross sobs had ebbed till she hiccupped, Harmony said, "Why's it bother you so bad?"

"I don't know. Pops used to do all this stuff. Like talk to us in Haitian Creole, and sing, and now it just seems...it seems like all he does is push us away. The older we get. I don't understand it."

"I think maybe he wants us to be more independent. Like he was. Maybe. I dunno, I'm just guessing."

"That's the thing, he never talked about being our age," Melody whispered, "You think it was that bad?"

"Dunno. We might never know."

"But I wanna know. I want to know all the things."

A little bit later there was a soft knock on the door and their dad entered, dressed down in his pajamas and bathrobe and leaned down to smooch the two sleepy sisters on their cheeks.

"Good night, girlies. You okay, Mels?"

"Yeah dad. Love you."

Melody reached out one arm to make him come closer and he gave her a hug from over Harmony's hug, giving her an extra kiss on her forehead.

"Love you too ducky. Sleep good."

He ruffled both their hair, Harmony protesting this, and left, softly shutting the door behind him.

But Melody couldn't sleep. Long after her dark haired twin had melted into the covers and began snoring, she stared at the dark ceiling with light pangs of anxiety squeezing her heart. Maybe she had overreacted just a tad. She had really pushed pops today, and on a hard day of the year for him, too. Maybe he just hadn't wanted think or talk about certain things today, and that was certainly valid- she'd more or less forced a reaction out of him. Even if it was a negative one.

Maybe she should just go and apologize. Her pops was a night owl; he was probably still bumping around in his office.

Sliding off the bed careful not to disturb her sleeping sister, Melody untied her converse shoes and slid out of them, replacing them with a pair of mismatched fuzzy socks and tiptoed down the hallway, past the kitchen, and down toward her parents' end of the house.

Well, Pops studio was dark, but their bedroom lights were still on. She was just about to knock on the halfway cracked door when the conversation from within floated out and made her freeze.

..."Not *like* that, Lucifer, I just.."

.."Can't just admit that you've been really distant lately?"

Oh shit, she'd been about to walk in on them bickering. Well, no...she frowned. It was more like a low-voiced intense discussion. Huh. It was rare that she heard them talking to each other like this. Curious, she settled on the wall opposite the open door and leaned in, ears perked.

"That's besides the point. It is like she's not happy until she gets me angry with her."

"Because she *misses* you, Alastor. She wants your attention. You know she's always been a pops girl. Whenever things got bad, she wanted you. Not me."

Her pops chuckled slightly. "Yes. Every skinned knee...every nightmare."

"Then when she got picked on at school, and that one bad friend breakup," Dad offered.

"Yes, I know."

"So are you gonna talk about why you're pushing her off like this? I mean, I don't think Harm cares all that much. She's pretty much aloof anyway, but Mels.."

"She feels her emotions differently."

"Yup. Just like you."

"She is smart. Stubborn..."

"Well," Dad mumbled, "Stubborn is both of us; but smart? Especially the tech stuff? That's all you."

Melody grinned. Yeah, pops had done his fair share of teaching her all the ins and outs of radios. From taking them apart and putting them back together again, how they worked, what made them tick. She'd taken that knowledge a step further and carried it on to her passion for cameras and video.

She supposed she hadn't really needed pop's help this evening. She'd simply *wanted* it. Wanted him. His time and attention, like her dad had been saying. She could have easily fixed that camera herself.

Pops sighed, a radio-infested sound that coated downward into something more human sounding.

"I'll talk to her tomorrow."

"Thank you."

Their conversation continued on to other topics that coasted out the door. Melody listened to the rustling and clicking of lights turning off, of them getting ready for bed and murmuring to each other in that tone of voice couples use when it's just the two of them.

Sneaking back to her sister's room again, Melody changed into a pair of one of Harmony's purple pajamas and slid into bed beside her sister, snuggling close with her and shutting her eyes, willing her slightly buzzing mind to silence itself till it gave way to a drifting sleepy mood.

Maybe things would be better tomorrow. She hoped so. With that thought in mind, she threw an arm around her twin and also a pile of plushies and allowed herself to go off to dream land.

"Ugh."

Melody sat at the kitchen table, frowning at the gadget in front of her. It was a miniature working phonograph, complete with a vinyl record that currently sat amongst a pile of teeny tiny screws, and spare wooden paneling. She was fiddling with the wires inside, her fingers fumbling slightly and she held her hands up and waved them frustratedly as her sister walked in, dark hair nested, and a just-woke-up look on her face.

Harmony stopped, stared at Melody for a hilariously awkward amount of time then waved her arms similarly in a mocking way with her face deadpan.

"Shut up," Mel grinned.

"No coffee?," Harmony had gone to the coffee station by the microwave, "You *suck.*"

"I drank it all."

Dad walked in, let the blinds in the windows up and commenced to making waffles while Harmony fixed another pot of extra-strong coffee -("Since my *sister* is too *busy*")- all in all, just a regular Saturday morning for the Hartfelt-Morningstars. Melody was whining, "It's not riiiight..." While Dad plunked a plate of waffles and a cup of orange juice at her place.

"Trinkets away, ducky. Eat up. You didn't eat dinner last night."

"In a minutttte," Melody muttered, attempting to connect the wires that were wacky in the little system, then when they sparked at her fingers she exclaimed, "Ah, God-DAMMIT!"

"Hey," Dad said seriously, "Don't take my father's name in vain."

She stared at him with an incredulous look, nursing her smarting fingers.

"Kidding," he added. "Joking. Drink your orange juice. Eat your waffles." - he patted her head and walked off.

"Drink my waffles, eat my orange juice. Got it," she yelled at his retreating back and heard his answering peals of laughter, then the sounds of him greeting his husband- "Mornin' deer. Get a load of that kid in there."

Melody had never quite figured out if they called each other 'deer' or 'dear.' Maybe the terms were interchangeable. What if they just said it, and mentally interpreted as the situation saw fit? They did all have deer ears, minus Dad.

Maybe she'd never figure her parents out.

When her pops walked in, she side eyed his profile while she continued ignoring her waffles in favor of her phonograph. He didn't *seem* upset, or anything, just his usual silent morning self digging into the refrigerator for his normal leftover venison, tossing it into a pan to heat it up. He did walk over to examine what she was doing and offer a helpful suggestion or two.

"That wire with this one, and that may work..what is it for?"

Melody did as he said and replied, "Present for Lux. Bye sis," she added as Harmony wapped her on top of the head on her way out the kitchen door, presumably to either draw or write the day away in her room.

"Mm. He's coming by today."

"Shit!" She looked up at him, "It's not finished!"

-"How about this.."

He sat beside her, "I'll help you with it. You're not going to touch your food till it's finished, I'm assuming."

She shook her head, "I'm not doing shit till it's done."

"I figured as much. And after you've finished your breakfast-"

She opened her mouth to argue, but stopped at his stern look.

"-After. You have. Eaten," he reiterated, "I've got something to show you. And I'd like to..have a talk with you. You're not in trouble," he added, his red eyes glinting with amusement at her sight pained look.

"I'm really not?"

She had thought for sure she would be. On the other hand, his retaliations for what he deemed unnecessary backtalk were usually pretty quick and dad had been able to get him to let that one go the night before.

"No, darling. So give the thing here let me show you."

He walked her through it. Every wire and attachment that connected to the power device she had made with her own magic began to make sense as he showed her what thing could go where.

"Where did it go wrong the first time?"

"Well, it *was* working. But the wires burnt out from the power - the battery thing I made."

"Might have been just a tad potent. Try easing some power out of it and see where that takes you."

Eventually she was able to fit everything back together correctly under pops instruction and wolfed down some waffles while he put in the last screw and set the little phonograph on the table. She watched as he slid the vinyl record neatly on and set the needle, flipping the power switch.

Mouth full of waffle, she waited with bated breath as the turntable rotated, filling the room with a tiny record crackle, then..

She raised her arms in triumph as music played, a little instrumental beginning to a song in one of her favorite movies.

"Well, that's that," her pops left the table to continue heating up his own food, Melody doing a happy dance in her seat and then proceeding to take her dishes to the sink while he ate his venison and remarked, "It plays the one song?"

"For now."

She scooped the phonograph up and placed it on the counter, summoning up a little box and a bow, "I'm gonna program more for it though. I know he might not like Labyrinth as much as me."

"Lux always did like his Hensen films."

"Poppa.."

Finished tying the little box up, she leaned on the counter and crossed her fuzzy pajama covered arms, glancing at him, "I'm sorry about last night.."

In that moment, he seemed so enigmatic. His hair was barely brushed, and he was still wearing his red bathrobe, but he still managed to put so..put together. Tall, and strong, his posture always so straight and confident; and there was that unreadable expression in his crimson eyes that gleamed in the orange morning light that fell in from the open window while he absorbed her apology.

"I think I should be instead," he said gently. Sometimes he could be spastic, the radio in his voice hiding everything- but it was dimmed down to a barely discernible crackle now. Sometimes it reminded Melody that her pops could actually have been human once. "You wanted to learn more about her, right? About Eleanor- my mother?"

Melody nodded. "I didn't know her. But I feel like...like I miss her."

"Come on," he put an arm around her shoulder. "Let's go, darling. And I'll tell you about her."

It had been awhile since Melody had been in her pop's bayou dimension; the bit of her parents' bedroom that drifted off into a soft blue lit wood, surrounded all around by a cascade of wildlife noises and bugs trilling. They walked away, feet crunching on twigs and leaves. The air smelled humid but sweet, like flora and fauna heated and promising a beautiful sunlit day.

"Does it ever end?" Melody said curiously.

"I don't know. I can walk for an hour and there's no sign of a barrier. I think over the years it may have grown, somehow. Let's stop. Here is good."

There was no hint that they were actually still in her parents bedroom. This place was a little world on its own. It seemed like, if she squinted her eyes, she could see the shadows of frolicking deer in the vast foggy distance but when she tried to get a closer look there was nothing.

They had stopped at a forked path amongst the trees, which her pops was looking at with a slightly amused expression. "And," he added, "No matter how I've tried to escape this path right here it always loops me right back. I do wonder about that."

He beckoned her over and had a seat on a nearby fallen tree, and Melody obeyed and plopped down next to him, wiggling her toes and continuing to eye her bayou surroundings inquisitively.

"Imagine," her pops said, "A kitchen table. Small. The year is nineteen-ten. We had electric lights at this time, but mother lit a kerosene lamp for me in the dark evening. 'Let's play a game,' she said. 'It's One, Two, Three.' Do you remember that one?"

"Un, Deux, Troi," Melody recited, smiling.

"French," her pops said. "My turn. Uno, Dos, Tres."

"Spanish. That was too easy. Y'all really had nothing to do before the internet, huh?"

He chuckled. "There's more to that. She taught me extensively whatever languages she knew. Lullabies. Nursery rhymes. On nights my...father...if that's what you could call him- passed out drunk, those were our nights. Lessons, and games, and drawing practice. Sometimes calligraphy."

"Tell me what she looked like."

"You know what she looked like!"

"I wanna hear it again."

With his words, he painted her a picture of a woman whose name was Eleanor. A woman with kind, intelligent dark eyes and an easy smile, curly dark hair, and a penchant for soft silly chaos. When his father wasn't around, pops said, she became this person for him. He td her all this not to idolize her memory or color the picture of her as if she could do no wrong; but to remember that she was human, that she existed, and did make mistakes just like everybody else.

Like how she could have left pops father when the drinking got bad, could have spirited the two of them away, and lived elsewhere, even on the streets, when his father became more and more manipulative and violent. Perhaps she hadn't wanted that life for her boy and that was understandable; pops said he just didn't know if she even thought of it.

If she did, she didn't tell him, maybe to save him from the agony of such an important decision. Still, through the pain of what pops had gone through she stayed a shining light of hope for him till he was grown and able to begin a life of his own.

"I had to think back," he said, "To the reality that there were not many options for single women of color in those days attempting to raise a mixed child. I was blinded to that fact in my young adulthood. Call it pride, or whatever you like...but our relationship was strained when she passed. I pushed her away. I was angry with her. Or misplaced. I was angry with my life, and she was my nearest outlet. So on I went without her."

"You still feel bad about it?"

Melody scooted closer and leaned her head on his arm. Just to be near him. She wasn't sure if he was sad, or just reflective; maybe both. She liked the warmth of his bathrobe on her cheek though, and the sleepy early-morning sounds echoing around them. There was nothing like this in hell. It was so peaceful.

"Sometimes," he admitted.

"Is that why..is that why you ..ah shoot," she tried to blink away the sudden burning in her eyes. She squinted, trying to blurr away the tears but they leaked down her cheeks anyhow. Dammit, she hated crying.

"Is that why I've been distant?" He finished for her softly.

She sniffled and nodded.

"I'm sorry," she blurted. "I didn't know. I didn't understand any of it. And that's why I lashed out. I thought you were just being mean, or- or I don't know. It never occurred to me you could have. Real feelings or something. Which in retrospect is fucking dumb," she was full out clinging to his arm now, her eyes making his shoulder wet because her face was pressed into his arm.

"Oh, Melody, no.."

She felt him shift so his arms were around her, her face in his chest, and she reflexively put her arms around him too, inconsolably sobbing.

"My behavior isn't your fault, do you understand me? It never is."

He rocked her like she was little and she let him, clinging to him and drinking in his nearness. She couldn't remember the last time he had held her like this, or who must have said first that she must be too old for things like this.

But she wasn't, she realized. She wasn't too old to be loved by a parent. She was sixteen. That wasn't an adult yet.

"I could tell you more about her," he said. "But I think you'd like to hear her instead. Would you like to hear her voice?"

Melody sniffed, hiccuping a little then withdrew to look up at him, "You can do that?"

"With my radio. Yes. I don't often."

She settled back down into his arms and listened while his radio scrolled around sounding just like it was changing stations as he struggled a bit to find what must be a very deep memory because the static went on for awhile.

Finally, Melody's breath caught in her throat when the beautiful human woman's voice drifted into the humid bayou air seeming both near and far all at once. She was singing.

"Dodo, ti titit manman l

Dodo, ti titit papa l

Si li pa dodo, krab la va manje l.."

When the song had gone on and faded faded off into nothingness because that's where his memory stopped, her pops translated for her.

"Sleep, little mother's sleep

Sleep, little father's sleep

If they don't sleep, the crab will eat.."

Melody couldn't help a small giggle.

"The crab will eat? It will eat me if I don't sleep? Who tells their kid that?"

"It sounds better in the patwa, I promise."

"Pat-wuh?"

"Patwa. Haitian Creole."

"Oh."

They sat there for another few moments, Melody digging her face into her pop's chest. His heartbeat in her ear. Strong, warm. He stroked her hair and hummed while leftover tears from her most current crying sesh leaked from her eyes.

"Poppa. I love you."

He kissed the top of her head.

"I love you too, cherimwen. My dear."

She smiled silently.

Eventually they rose to walk back to the real part of their house, Melody casting one last glance back to that forked path behind them before they went.

"What about that road?"

"Hmm. I suppose..it used to mean something darker to me. I always likened my journey through life to this. An unwinnable series of events. Whether left or right, it seemed each choice took me somewhere increasingly...malicious."

"And now?"

"Now?.." They reached the wooden floorboards of her parents soft orange hell's early morning sunlit room, Melody blinking at the sudden contrast, "I can leave that behind. No more choices, except to love your dad, you, and your sister."

"Huh. You're welcome, I guess."

He laughed, his radio crackling cheerfully.

"UNCLE LUX!!"

Melody flew into the tall man's arms, causing him to go "-Oof- Hey, hey, short stuff!"

Lux was already there when Melody walked out.

He was absolutely one of her favorite people in hell.

It had taken her approximately an entire decade of life to figure out that Lux actually shared zero biological connection with her pops or dad, that he was in fact nobody's brother down here whatsoever- a point Harmony made to drive home and tease Melody about whenever, and however possible.

"He looks nothing like us, dodo brain, why are you so surprised about this!"

Well, it was a little bit like learning that your parent has a name besides 'mom' or 'dad', or that your favorite teacher actually leaves school to go home or grocery shopping. Because for as long as she could remember, the angel with wolf ears and dark hair had been a fixture in her family. There were times he got lost mentally and forgot to come around, but he always did get back to them eventually. Melody had learned to expect that undercurrent of both chaos and melancholy with him. It was just another aspect to his person, like his loud sense of fashion or how his emotional presence made her think of times long past.

"I'm not so short anymore," she frowned up at him.

"Nah. Last time I saw you, you were this tall," he held a hand about a foot above her head, "You're shrinking. What's up?"

"With any luck, she and her sister both will get my height, and none of Lucifer's, or lack thereof," pops said from the doorway, jauntily leaning as he fixed his bow tie. He'd stayed behind to shower and dress for the day.

"Hardee-harr," Dad said from over by the stove where he was fixing hot chocolate for Lux, "I've only had eighteen years of short jokes."

"Sorry, darling, you make it so easy. Look, you're blushing already!"

"And I'm gagging already," Lux rolled his eyes and took a seat at the table.

Just to drive a point home pops snuck behind his husband to give him a pert smack on the rear and grinned when Dad objected "You're gonna make me spill this shit-!" He was interrupted by his husband dipping him into a kiss.

"POPS please," Melody vocalized, scrunching her eyes shut. "Eww-uhh."

"Yes pops. Please," Lux muttered.

"So sorry. I thought you ordered breakfast and a show. Greetings, Lux!"

The wolf man eyed pops outstretched hand warily, "After seeing all that I think I can greet you from here. Not wanting to touch you just this minute. Sorry."

"You're not sorry in the least, " pops returned cheerfully, who had abandoned his now properly ruffled looking blond co-parent to have a seat.

"You're right," Lux returned. "Not a sorry bone in my body. Lucifer, yah sure you want to spend the rest of your eternity with this one? Not too late to back out, you know..."

"Hmm.."

Melody's dad was leaning against the counter, pretending to consider the options. "Well, we're one pregnancy and two children into it now.."

"Plus seventeen years of marriage," pops offered.

"Eighteen and a half years together, give or take-"

"-It's not like we don't all share a last name."

"Yeah, you're right, you can take them all off my hands. Please and thank you," dad decided, pushing a mug off hot chocolate to Lux.

"No worries. I'll come to retrieve you in the dead of night. If the radio demon intervenes I'll send him up to Heaven. Let them deal with him for awhile. Speaking of two children, where's the other one?"

While dad vocalized that Harmony was most likely in her room lost in her own little world (Lux responding that that's a wonderful place to be and didn't wish to disturb her), Melody phased out of the conversation to fixate on the little box on the counter, grabbing it up, while also ignoring the topics which had turned to a bunch of blah-blah things surely invented for older men to catch up with each other and also bore the tears out of impatient teenagers.

She hung around while Harmony finally showed up, and greeted Lux herself.

"Barbara art?" She asked him. Not a hi, hello, just straight to the point. That was Harms.

"Barbara art," Lux agreed, reaching behind him to pull out a portfolio binder, which Harmony received with an excited grin and hopped to sit up on the counter and lost no time perusing. He'd learned a long time ago that if he didn't bring his best friend with him on his visits, he damn sure better bring her latest sketches otherwise he'd never hear the end of it from the darker haired twin who ate, drank and breathed visual art.

"How is dear Barbara nowadays?" Pops asked while his husband dragged a chair over to sit beside him. Melody smiled at the sight of her dad promptly using pops lap as a footrest, and the resulting 'really?' Looking stare he got from the radio demon.

"Good. On vacay with the wife again."

Melody immediately ran over to look at vacation pictures when Lux pulled out his phone to show them. He was really close with Barbara, so of course he received constant updates.

"Stop crushing on Barb's wife," Harmony said from atop the counter. "It's getting weird."

"You're weird," Melody shot back, her cheeks flaming up just a little. Okay, so she was more than a little bit enthralled with Sunny, so what? People got crushes all the time.

"It's okay," Lux said, letting Mels scroll through pictures and videos, watching her smile at the proceeding sight of the happy couple, "Barb said to me once 'I think Melody is a little bit in love with my wife.' "

"Ahh!! Oh nooo," Melody cringed. "What'd she say after that? Was she mad? Pops STOP IT ISN'T FUNNY"

The radio demon was snickering. Dad smacked at him, which only made him wheeze a little.

"No!" Lux was laughing. "She looked at me real serious and said, 'Bitch, I don't blame her. Me too!' "

God, Melody missed her.

She watched over his shoulder while he texted his friend.

•Mels and family say hi.•

His phone dinged with a response.

[Barb] •Alastor behaving himself?•

Both Melody and Lux looked up at the table across them, where Mel's pops was bugging the piss out of his husband again.

Lux glanced at Melody, who shook her head and mimicked taking a picture.

The angel nodded, and promptly snapped a photo, sending it on to Barbara and captioned it,

•No.•

Then as an afterthought,

•Never, actually.•

[Barb]•😂🤣 Is he trying to stick his finger in Lucifer's ear?? Save that poor man.•

When Lux had packed up his stuff, he said his goodbye's to all family members, shaking hands with Lucifer and hugging both girls while threatening pops with eternal torment if he made any of them upset.

"That's a given," Pops responded. "This one here is always upset at something," giving Melody's ear a playful tug.

"Ow!"

"See?" He grinned. "Even as a baby she cried for ages..."

"Don't remind me," Lucifer shuddered. "The great colic incident of twenty-four. Ugh."

"Want me to rip apart his soul for you?" Lux said conversationally, draping his bag over his shoulder as he prepared to head out the door.

"Yes," Melody grinned.

As Lux waved a last goodbye to them all and headed out the door, Melody's attention was brought again to the little box she'd been holding this entire time.

"Ah shit! Shit, Lux!!"

She snatched the door open and ran after him, calling his name again to get his attention.

"I forgot," she panted, catching up to him, "Here," she handed him the box, "I was waiting- I don't know. Till everyone got done talking, or.."

Well really, she'd been wanting a chance to simply have Lux all to herself. Selfishly maybe...and Melody, as loud as she could be, enjoyed one on one time with her favorite people. And the idea of giving him the phonograph in front of just everyone, for some weird reason, made her cringe inside especially with everyone laughing irreverently. The gift she'd just worked so hard on with pops help was less than irreverent; it was downright special and deserved that treatment, she thought.

She watched, grinning, as he opened it, his blue eyes lighting up as he examined the intricate little phonograph.

"Ah, it's beautiful!"

"It actually works," she told him. Put the needle on and press the switch!"

He did so, marveling at the vinyl record crackling, then smiling as the opening score to Labyrinth drifted up to meet their ears.

It's only forever..

Not long at all..

"I'll program more for you," she babbled, "There's a whole lot I can do, if you don't like that one much. It's only the one song-"

But he had swooped her up in a hug, and she laughed when he said "You don't have to do more I promise! This is magical. I absolutely love it."

"Really?"

"Yeah, Mels. You did good!"

"Thanks!" She stood back. "Hey, Lux..?"

Her question lingered uncertainly.

"Yeah?"

She meant to ask a lot of questions, speaking of those. Starting with why old phonographs and radios made her think of both Lux and pops, or why their friendship seemed rife with both affection, and a begrudging willingness to get along; a tension she wasn't unaware of. Maybe there was a hint of respect too, for the other.

"I just...I dunno."

Maybe for once she shouldn't ask all the questions ever. And maybe there were complex things about adult relationships she'd never understand. And maybe that was all right.

"Nothing I guess. I love you."

The understanding look that came over his face surprised her, but he thankfully didn't push it.

"Love you too, kiddo. Bye."

"Bye."

No, she thought as she went back inside where her family was now cleaning the kitchen together, maybe there were things she was never meant to know. But she knew enough. That's what mattered.

"How did it go? The talk?"

Lucifer was sitting on the edge of their bed, taking his boots off and unbuttoning his collar.

Alastor sat next to him and said, "It went well. More than that, I think. The little one's growing up. Both of them."

He reached to help Lucifer with his shirt, giving himself to admire his husband's neck and shoulders and the little dip that formed his clavicle.

"Hey now," Lucifer said. "Don't be starting something-"

Alastor had pulled him close and had tugged them both down, smilingly wrapping Lucifer up in his arms and pressing his face into Luce's sweet smelling neck.

"I'm not," he murmured there.

He just wanted his angel near him.

Thankfully, Lucifer let him just hold him. Alastor had trouble admitting it at first, a long time ago in the beginning of their relationship, that he just loved nonsensical skin to skin contact. Loved the feeling of Lucifer's bare back under his fingers and the way he just melded comfortably into being cuddled.

"You're being quiet," Lucifer said. "What's up?"

"I walked to my path again."

He had. After everyone had gone their separate ways and Lucifer was in the shower, Alastor had wandered on a whim in his bare feet into the bayou again. Drinking up the warm, woodsy scent of home. A home he'd shared brief memories of with his daughter today.

The moon had risen on his dimension and turned everything, including his white shirt- yes white, not red for once- a glowing ethereal blur color. He'd taken this trip many times. Sometimes out of sadness, sometimes for a reminder of something he couldn't quite place, and now to satisfy a slight curiousness.

Yet as he'd suspected, in the clearing he'd taken Melody to that morning there sat a grouping of familiar trees, a series of non growing and unchanging bushes, and that fallen stump he'd sat upon with her to tell her about Eleanor. His mother. But where the dirt forked path should be, there was nothing whatsoever but a fresh cropping of softly waving grass.

"Well how about that," he had muttered. "What do you know."

He'd immediately turned about and gone back to Lucifer, unable to tell how he was feeling, or moreover, *should* feel about this change.

Lucifer simply pulled him closer and played with the hair at the back of his neck as they laid in silence.

Alastor trusted that Lucifer surely must know...that this path of his- this devil's forked road that started off so dark and uncertain in his human youth and had taken on so many shades in the decades to come, meant more to him than he could explain. It was an almost abstract concept that, for once, left him unable to paint with words. But he saw the hues of it in his mind.

The last color of it: golden, like the blood that beat with Lucifer's heart.

Today, the path had breathed its last color to the winds.

Alastor trusted that when Lucifer said, "What does that mean?" He understood anyway. He also trusted that when he said,

"Nothing at all, dear," in his airy way, that Lucifer knew.

Somehow..

That it meant everything.