#and though she is but little she is fierce

[kngrose]

yandere headcanons: sevika, violet, jinx

WARNINGS: 18+, stalking, manipulation, implied violence, implied abuse, toxic relationships, NONCON touching, forced proximity, blackmail, mentions of punishments

sevika loneliness induction type

Sevika is fiercely loyal to those she associates herself with, and that’s not just anybody. There must be a substance that directly ties her to the cause. And though she’ll never come clean about what the substance is, if she becomes romantically obsessed with you, that loyalty will turn obsessive. She’s a master of control and patience; she’s very practical. Because she’s so calculated, most of her obsessive tendencies will manifest in quiet, almost unnoticed ways.

Her yandere tendencies wouldn’t involve loud outbursts or tantrums. Instead, she would be silently obsessed, methodically planning her moves and slowly, subtly creating a reality where you feel like you can only depend on her. She wouldn’t express her feelings loudly—rather, her obsession would be reflected in small, quiet gestures that make it clear no one else could ever take her place.

Before you two even "met" she was always around. Keeping track of your every move, watching you from a distance, ensuring no one else got too close. She'd follow you, lurking in the shadows, just to make sure no harm came your way—or to make sure you didn’t get too attached to someone else; romantically or platonically. Every time you’d explained the feeling of being watched to your peers, they’d brush it off. “There is nothing unusual about that,” they would say, “look where we live.” You’d suppose they were right. It would feel more strange if you didn’t feel like you were being followed.

Once Sevika finally makes her presence known, anyone who tries to get close to you, even in a friendly manner, will be met with cold, calculating hostility. She will even go as far as to subtly manipulate situations to isolate you from others, all while maintaining the facade of being the perfect ally. She would pay close attention to who you befriended and considered close before deciding who to pluck from your life. And pluck she would. You’ll start to notice slowly but surely that all of your peers have… disappeared. Which is strange; you guys never got into any trouble– you didn’t have any enemies, there’s literally no one who would be singling you all out. “It's dangerous out here,” she’ll say, “It's dangerous and vile and sick. And they couldn't protect themselves.” And she’ll gaze at you, a strange glint in her eyes, “But don't worry. I’ll never let anything happen to you.”

She will use her intelligence and strength not just to protect you, but to shape your perception of her. Sevika is good at reading people, so she will slowly play with your emotions—gently pushing your boundaries little by little. To the point where you feel; like you can’t deny her. Her touches would start to linger too long, in places that friends don't touch. Her gazes were too intense. She’s embracing you, kissing you– calling you names friends don't call each other. Every interaction would feel charged as if she’s marking you as hers in ways that go beyond friendship.

Constantly grabbing at the fat of your thighs, dangerously close to your ass. She’s pulling you into her lap, fondling– much to your displeasure. You’ll tell her, “No, that’s not normal…” You’ll make it known that you don’t see her that way. Do you? But she’ll just shush you, tell you to “Relax.”And as the line between “friend” and “lover” would start to blur, Sevika would be pulling the last seam tightly. She’s got you exactly where she wants you.

She would be able to mask her jealousy with a calm and controlled demeanor, but beneath the surface, she would be seething. If you paid attention to anyone else, she’d nod along with the conversation, but her eyes would be cold, flicking between you and the others with disdain, watching for an opportunity to intervene or manipulate the situation. She’d never directly show how much it bothers her, but when you’re gone, she’d ensure that others get the message; your affection is not to be shared.

Aside from someone trying to deter your attention, if anyone ever tried to harm you, Sevika would always retaliate. She's not afraid to get her hands dirty, and her methods of dealing with threats would be brutal. For her, a threat is a threat, and she would see nothing wrong with taking extreme measures to handle it as soon as the opportunity presents itself. She’s not stupid, she won't just jump the gun. She values patience, which would call for a slow, painful death.

She would be adept at playing on your emotions, making you feel guilty if you ever question her or try to pull away. She might say things like, “I’ve always been there for you, haven’t I? So why would you doubt me now?” using her history of loyalty and support to bind you closer to her, turning any moment of doubt into something you feel you must make up for.

If Sevika truly believes you are the one for her, she would convince herself—and eventually, you—that you were meant to be together. Again, she is fiercely loyal and expects nothing less from you in return. In her eyes, she is the only person who truly understands and appreciates you, so anything else would be a betrayal. Please do not test her patience with this. If Sevika makes it clear to you that she doesn’t want you around anyone else, for any reason, do not be caught around anyone else.

When you make a mistake, which you will know when you've made a mistake, she will just give you this look. The look. The one where you know she's pissed off by just a glance. You’re in luck if you're in public; she won't act on it just yet. And she won't act as soon as you get home, either. I feel like Sevika would wait it out on purpose. By this I mean; If you ever did something that upset her, she would be deathly silent; quietly brooding around you, imposing her size on you in an intimidating way. And I'm not talking about a few hours or a day. I'm talking weeks. And it drives you mad. You’ll be walking on eggshells around her, terrified by the deafening silence. What is she thinking? What is she going to do? And this is all according to her plan. She wants you to think she forgot about it so that when she does exact punishment, it will take you by complete surprise. It’s a mind game. And that’s the first thing she’ll break.

violet self sabotaging type

Vi is fiercely protective, passionate, and can be concerningly impulsive, so pairing this all with yandere endencies would bring forth a compelling mix of aggression loyalty and possessiveness. Let’s start where the root of the issue is; she is incredibly jealous. Unhealthily so. Vi's jealousy wouldn’t just be passive; it would be aggressive and reactive. If anyone even looked at you in a way she didn’t like, she’d be quick to intervene, usually with a punch or a threatening glare. Her jealousy would make her irrationally angry—if you decided to pay attention to someone else, she might lash out in frustration, even if she tries to keep a calm exterior.

Vi’s flirtation might be laced with possessiveness—playful jabs or teasing that has an undercurrent of "don’t you dare look at anyone else" embedded in it. If someone else tries to show affection toward you, she would be quick to remind them, through a sharp glare or a fist to the face, that you’re already taken—and that she’s not afraid to be a little violent to keep it that way.

She’s naturally protective over those she loves, but with you that protectiveness would take a much darker turn. She wouldn’t just defend you from external threats—she would also isolate you from anyone she perceives as a potential rival or distraction. Acquaintances, or even strangers would be seen as obstacles in her path, and she might resort to physical intimidation or threats to keep them at bay. She’s not shy about this either; In fact, more often than not you’ll find out this information firsthand as a witness.

She’s so nosy, omg. She has to know everything. Who you went out with the other night? Was that everyone who was there? Why were you out so long? Where did you all even go? Are you keeping something from her?

She’ll try to shrug this off as her being protective, but her protective nature would cross into obsession. Again, she’s not shy about this. She’s always standing close enough to overhear your conversations, idly breathing down your shoulder and making you and the other person uncomfortable. She’s always be nearby, ready to step in if she feels something is wrong. If you try to go out alone, she'd insist on accompanying you, always finding excuses to be in your personal space.

To most people, She would still appear to be the strong, caring, and honestly reckless person they know, but beneath the surface, she would have an all-consuming obsession with you. Anyone who saw her with you might think you both have a maybe somewhat overbearing, but affectionate relationship. But in truth, Vi would always be calculating, and slowly taking control of your life to ensure that you could never escape her.

She’ll always find a reason to touch you—putting a hand on your shoulder or wrapping an arm around your waist, all while making it clear that no one else is allowed this kind of closeness. The more possessive she gets, the tighter and more lingering her embraces would be, and she wouldn’t tolerate anyone else getting too close.

Vi would use her knowledge of your emotions to manipulate you into doing what she wants. You’re trying to distance yourself? No worries, she’ll be sure to draw you back in with sweet words and kisses you can taste– that always worked in the past. But if not? She’s angry, she’s confused. Why would you want to leave someone who’s so selfless and always ready to fight for you?

She’s guilt-tripping you, reminding you of all the things she’s done for you, how much she’s fought for you, and how no one else cares about you the way she does. And if that doesn’t work? Have fun pulling her out of whatever hole she’s about to dig herself into out of pure spite. Drinking herself into oblivion? Picking fights with any and everyone? Threatening to off herself, for fucks sake.

And if somehow her threatening to end her life doesn't work? That’s fine; just be prepared to clear up the most malicious rumors about yourself. The ones that make people alienate you. They’re spreading like wildfire, there’s no way you’ll be able to have it under control. At that point, who else can you turn to? You’ll have no choice but to worm your way back into the relationship you so desperately wanted to leave. The one person who didn’t turn on you in your time of despair. She’s stubborn and she’s childish and she knows this. But it won't deter her one bit. It’s only when you’re back under her arm that the rumors dissipate like smoke, leaving as quickly as they came. It’ll dawn on you then, where they originated.

jinx delusional type

Jinx is not afraid to harm you. Whether it be mentally, emotionally, or physically. Please understand that she is not above that. She has real psychological issues, so in this relationship being very careful is very vital. It might cost you your life. She is constantly putting you to the test, she wants to see what decisions you’ll make, and how you’ll react under pressure. She might create situations to see if you’ll abandon her or stand by her. If she perceives any kind of betrayal, even a small one, her obsession will deepen, and she will lash out to remind you of her hold on you.

She’ll do little things like leaving doors unlocked or leaving a key nearby, all the while watching silently from the shadows, anticipating your next moves. She enjoys creating confusion, making you doubt yourself, and feeding your insecurities, all while maintaining a façade of sweetness and care. More than likely you may start feeling like you’re losing your grip on reality, unsure whether her actions are out of love or something darker.

If you still have your freedom, you might catch her following you if you have a sharp enough eye. Whether it's sneaking into your room, watching you from afar, or listening in on your conversations, she’ll make sure she knows everything about your life. And if you seem distant or don't include her in your world, it sends her into a spiral of insecurity and she tries even harder to make you need her.

Her paranoia is a defining trait of her yandere tendencies. If you show any kind of affection or attention toward anyone else, she snaps, jealousy swallowing her whole. This can lead her to lash out, either through harsh words, tantrums, or more drastic actions. In her mind, only she should have your attention and affection.

You always have to watch what you say, constantly trying to pacify the thoughts in her in the hope that you’re not feeding into them. Sometimes you’ll catch her muttering things to herself as she stares off at nothing, intervening when her muttering starts sounding homicidal. You’ve learned not to let her talk to herself too long, or she’ll start getting confused. Once, she grabbed your face with an iron grip, jerking your face to hers. “You don't need anyone else, right Baby?” She smiled softly, scanning your face, though the smile didn’t meet her eyes. You were dumbfounded– you didn't know how to respond. You didn’t know how she would react– she was so unpredictable– “SAY IT!” You violently flinched, sputtering the words back to you. It seemed to pacify her then, as her soft smile returned and she pecked your lips. “Right..” She’d muttered, petting your hair idly.

Her emotions fluctuate rapidly. One moment, she’ll be sweet and charismatic, trying to be the perfect companion. You’ll almost let your guard down. But in the next, she could snap, lashing out in a fit of rage at any given thing. It could be something as little as you glancing away while she’s speaking; her eyes quickly darting to see what or who’s stolen your attention from her. She’ll feel betrayed.

Because she’s so unpredictable, you’ll never be able to create a mental routine of the “punishments” she gives you. You’ll drive yourself mad just thinking about it; how the hell can she possibly be coming up with so many ways of torment? Sensory deprivation, shock collars, pinning little bombs to your clothes– they won't explode but you’ll think they will. It’s all a game to her, once she feels wronged. She’ll do anything to make you feel the way she does inside, even if that means breaking the moral code.

Jinx loves having control over situations, especially where you are concerned. She’ll "accidentally" sabotage plans or relationships that threaten her sense of control. Or at least she’ll call it an accident when you bring it up. She also collects items that remind her of you—photos, scraps of clothing, anything that holds sentimental value. She’ll hide these items in hidden places as Jinx sees them as proof of her connection to you, and she’ll be upset if they go missing.

Part of me thinks Jinx doesn’t have an end goal, or she has too many. Too many different voices, too many different ideas, too many possibilities. What does she want from you exactly? Well, she doesn’t know. Does she love you? She does! Well, at least she thinks she does. Why else could she feel so passionately about you? But in the same instance– why does she want to break you so badly? Why does she have the urge to hurt you? You’ll catch her staring, shooting her a weary glance; she’s muttering to herself again. You wonder what it’s about this time.

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[lupinqs]

CHAPTER TWELVE ━━ State Championship

☆ ━ pairing: hopkins!paige x oc (dani callan)

☆ ━ word count: 6.4K

☆ ━ warnings: underage drinking, smoking

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, take me to church masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: covid doesn’t exist in this fic yall. also… we only got like 2 maybe 3 more chapters left 😔😔 nearing the end

IT’S MARCH now, and Dani’s life feels as close to perfect as it ever has—though, like everything else in her world, it’s stitched together with careful seams, fragile and vulnerable to the wrong touch. She and Paige are inseparable, their relationship deepening with every stolen moment, every knowing glance, every night spent whispering beneath the glow of a shared secret. They’re in love, entirely and helplessly, in a way Dani never thought possible. They’ve built their own kind of sanctuary, a place where Dani doesn’t have to pretend, doesn’t have to hide, doesn’t have to pray for the version of herself she can’t force into existence. A place that’s home.

Her father is still blissfully ignorant. Somehow, he hasn’t pieced it together, hasn’t realized that the “Beau and Dani” façade is a flimsy excuse for Dani to avoid questions she can’t answer. All that matters is her dad hasn’t found out about Paige, and as long as Dani can keep it that way, she can hold onto this little slice of happiness a bit longer.

Her camera is still her refuge, the one place she can express everything she’s too scared to say. She photographs everything these days: the crackling electricity of Paige on the court, Thaliah and Jalen during their group hangouts, the fleeting, golden light of early spring as it kisses the Minnesota snow. Photography gives her purpose, and in a way, it’s her excuse to be near Paige without raising suspicion. At almost every game, Dani can be found on the sidelines, her lens trained on the girl she loves. Sometimes she’s there for the yearbook, sometimes just as a spectator, but she never misses an opportunity to catch Paige mid-layup, her form perfect, her expression fierce. Those photos always end up in a folder on Dani’s laptop, separate from the yearbook shots, and Dani finds herself scrolling through them late at night, smiling at the way Paige lights up the screen.

Dani’s friendships with Thaliah and Jalen are as strong as ever. The three of them and Paige have returned to normalcy, often found loitering at diners, driving aimlessly through town, or sprawled out in Thaliah’s basement watching movies and laughing about nothing. They’re her grounding force, her reminder that she’s not alone in navigating the chaos of being seventeen and confused about almost everything. Paige fits into their dynamic seamlessly, too, and on the rare occasion they’re all together, Dani feels like the world might actually be okay.

College acceptance letters have been rolling in, and Dani’s future is starting to take shape—though not without its complications. She’s been accepted into every school she applied to, but it’s her UConn acceptance that sends her heart racing. It’s not just the great program or the nearly full-ride scholarship they’ve offered her—it’s the fact that Paige will be there. That, for once, Dani might have a future that feels like hers, not one dictated by her father or her faith or the crushing weight of expectation. But she hasn’t told her dad yet. She can’t. He knows Paige is going to UConn, knows about her basketball career and the national attention it’s garnered, and Dani knows he’d connect the dots too easily. So she keeps it to herself, tucking the letter into the back of her desk drawer and avoiding the subject whenever college comes up at home.

Currently, Dani sits among Paige’s family, her camera resting untouched in her lap. It’s the state championship, and Hopkins is favored to take the title the second year in a row. The student section is a riot of blue, loud and chaotic, but Dani has chosen the quieter comfort of this row, surrounded by people who feel like home. Jalen and his family are nearby, and Paige’s parents and siblings flank her on either side, a reassuring presence amid the frenzy.

On Dani’s left, Drew is practically vibrating with excitement, barely able to stay seated. Every few seconds, he glances over at her, his words tumbling out in bursts. “Did you see Paigey’s spin move?”

“I saw it,” Dani says, a small smile tugging at her lips. “She’s locked in.”

Bob, seated next to Drew, leans forward slightly, his voice carrying over the noise. “She used to practice that on me at the park. Couldn’t guard her then, can’t guard her now.”

Dani chuckles, turning to meet Bob’s grin. There’s an ease to him that she’s always appreciated—an unspoken acceptance. Bob has known about her and Paige for as long as she can remember, and though they’ve never had a direct conversation about it, the way he treats her makes it clear he’s always been on their side.

On Dani’s right, Amy is a comforting presence, quieter than Bob but just as attentive. She’d driven all the way from Montana with Ryan and Lauren to see Paige play, and Dani’s heart had softened the moment the woman exclaimed when she saw her, immediately engulfing her in a hug after over a year without seeing one another. Amy’s kindness is effortless, and Dani feels it in every question she asks—about school, about Dani’s photography, about her plans for college.

In front of Dani, Lauren, restless as ever, leans back against the Callan girl’s legs, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her Hopkins sweatshirt. She twists her head around to look at Dani, her eyes wide.

“Paige is so fast. I wanna be that fast,” she says, her voice barely cutting through the noise of the arena.

Dani stifles a laugh, glancing down at her. “Paige’ll train you if you ask her,” she tells Lauren, messing with her hair a little.

Ryan laughs at his younger sister. “You’ll never be as fast as P, Laur.” Lauren doesn’t say anything, just hits him a little on the shoulder.

And, true to their words of Paige’s quickness, the girl threads a pass through traffic to set up her teammate for an easy layup. The crowd erupts, and Dani’s heart swells with pride, even as she tries to keep her face neutral. Paige’s brilliance on the court always manages to take Dani’s breath away. It’s not just the skill—it’s the way she moves, like the game is an extension of herself, as natural as breathing.

Amy leans closer to Dani during a brief timeout, her voice soft so as not to disturb the boys’ running commentary on the game. “She loves having you here,” she says, her eyes fixed on Paige. “Plays better when you’re watching.”

Dani swallows the lump forming in her throat, her gaze fixed on Paige. “She doesn’t need me for that,” she murmurs, trying to brush it off, but Amy gives her a knowing smile.

“Maybe not. But she lights up around you, Dani. Always has.”

The words lodge themselves in Dani’s chest, warming her from the inside out. It’s moments like this—Paige’s family’s unwavering support—that make her feel like maybe, just maybe, she and Paige could have something not just real, but something lasting.

The game resumes, and Hopkins builds their lead, point by point, until victory feels inevitable. Paige is everywhere—driving to the basket, setting up her teammates, sinking jump shots with a precision that seems almost effortless. She makes it look easy, but Dani knows better. She knows the hours Paige spends on this court, the bruises and exhaustion she never complains about. And so Dani can’t help but beam every time Paige does something spectacular, her pride radiating from her in waves. Drew nudges her arm every few seconds, practically yelling over the noise.

Lauren shifts again, this time pulling on Dani’s sleeve. “Do you think Paige will win?”

“She will,” Dani answers without hesitation. “She always does.”

The final minutes tick down, and the crowd is on its feet, the noise swelling to a deafening roar. Paige drives to the basket, weaving through defenders, sinking the ball cleanly through the net. Dani can barely hear herself think over the cheers, but she doesn’t care. Her eyes are locked on Paige, her heart pounding in sync with the rhythm of the game. Victory is so close she can taste it.

And, when the final buzzer echoes through the gym, the crowd erupts in cheers, Dani screaming her throat raw, her grin so wide it aches. Hopkins wins, as everyone knew they would. On the court, the team jumps and screams, a chaotic tangle of joy, and in the middle of it all is Paige—beaming, her face radiant in the bright lights. She’s never looked more alive.

Dani can’t take her eyes off her.

Spectators flood the court, and Dani moves with Paige’s family and Jalen’s, weaving through the chaos. When Paige spots them, her gaze locks on Dani first, as if the rest of the world has faded away. Without hesitation, Paige rushes to her, weaving past her teammates and friends.

Dani doesn’t have time to react before Paige’s arms wrap tightly around her, pulling her close. Paige hunches slightly, burying her face in Dani’s neck. Her body is damp with sweat, and she smells faintly of effort and adrenaline, but Dani doesn’t care. She wraps her arms around Paige, steadying her.

“I’m so proud of you, P,” Dani says softly, her voice steady despite the lump in her throat.

Paige doesn’t pull back. Her lips brush against Dani’s hair, and she whispers so only Dani can hear, her voice a quiet tremor of affection, “Thanks, baby.”

Dani closes her eyes briefly, savoring the moment. Around them, the chaos continues—teammates screaming, parents cheering—but it feels like they’re standing in a bubble, untouched by anything outside of this.

When Paige finally pulls away, her parents are watching with fond smiles. Amy steps forward, already reaching for Dani’s camera. “You two, hold still. Let me take a picture.”

Paige grins and slings an arm around Dani’s shoulders, pulling her close. Her other hand lifts the gold medal hanging around her neck, the metal catching the light. Dani mirrors her smile, her own arm draped loosely around Paige’s waist. They don’t need to pose—the happiness radiates naturally, their closeness effortless.

Amy pulls back, glancing at the camera’s screen. “Oh, this is a good one. Come look.”

Dani leans in to see, and her breath catches. The image captures everything—the joy in their faces, the warmth in Paige’s gaze, the way their bodies lean toward each other as if they’re two halves of the same whole.

Paige and Dani meet eyes, sharing a grin.

The moment is brief but perfect before Paige turns to scoop Lauren into her arms, spinning her little sister in a circle. Drew tugs on her jersey, demanding his turn, while Ryan just hugs at Paige’s waist, proud of his older sister. Paige laughs, pulling them all into a huddle.

Dani steps back, giving them space but staying close. She does what she does best, taking her camera from Amy and getting a few candid shots—Paige holding Lauren on her hip, Ryan clapping her on the back, Drew trying on her medal for size. Joy radiates through every frame, and Dani knows these moments will stick with her for the rest of her life.

The state championship trophy gleams in the background, but to Dani, the real victory is right here.

IT’S THE NEXT night, a Saturday, and the house feels a little emptier now. Paige’s mom, Amy, had left earlier that morning to drive back to Montana with Ryan and Lauren in tow, their visit too brief but nice. Paige’s dad, Bob, had also left with Drew, heading to Paige’s grandparents’ house for a sleepover. Dani knows Paige had been invited too, but she’d turned down the invitation with a practiced excuse. “I’ve gotta lock in on my homework,” she’d said, a perfectly reasonable answer now that basketball season was over.

Dani, however, knows better. Paige had needed her house empty for a party in celebration of her state championship win. It’s not every day you lead your team to a perfect season and cap it off with a trophy. If anyone deserved to celebrate, it was Paige, and she wasn’t about to let the night pass without doing exactly that.

Now, the house is quiet but charged with anticipation. Everyone else isn’t supposed to arrive until 8:30, but Dani, Thaliah, and Jalen had shown up early, their small group finding an easy rhythm on the couch in Paige’s living room. Music hums softly in the background, a playlist already on shuffle as the three settle in, waiting for the night to kick off.

Thaliah sits in the middle, her legs crossed, the bottle of Pink Whitney balanced on her knee as she grins at the others. “Pregame!” she announces, her voice bright as she pours the syrupy pink liquid into four cups she’s pulled from her bag. She slides one toward Jalen, one toward Paige, and one toward Dani.

Dani hesitates, glancing at the cup in front of her. She knows the routine well enough—this isn’t the first time they’ve started a night like this. But tonight, the idea of drinking, of letting her guard down even a little, makes her stomach twist.

She shakes her head, gently pushing the cup back toward Thaliah. “Nah, I’m good.”

Next to her, Paige straightens, her arm slipping from Dani’s shoulders as she turns to look at her fully. “Why?” she asks, her tone light but curious, her brows pulling together in that way they do when she doesn’t understand something.

Dani doesn’t meet her gaze right away. Instead, she glances at the bottle of Whitney, at the three cups still sitting on the table, and then back to Paige. The truth hovers on the tip of her tongue, too heavy to say aloud: My dad’s next door. If he hears this party, if he figures out I’m here, it’s over for me.

She needs to be sober in case something might happen.

But she doesn’t want to ruin Paige’s night—not when Paige is practically glowing, her excitement infectious, her smile impossible to dim. So, Dani shrugs, keeping her voice casual as she says, “I’m just not really in the mood.”

Paige narrows her eyes, clearly unconvinced. Dani sighs, then adds, “Besides, we both know how you’re gonna end up tonight, so someone’s gotta babysit you.”

That gets a reaction. Paige gasps, clutching at her chest like Dani’s just insulted her honor. “I don’t need babysitting. I am a perfectly responsible drunk.”

Dani doesn’t even need to respond. Thaliah and Jalen both exchange a look, their silence loud enough to say what they’re all thinking: Paige is not a responsible drunk.

“Fine,” Paige relents, leaning back into Dani’s side with a dramatic sigh. Her arm finds its way back around Dani’s shoulders, her fingers drumming lightly against Dani’s collarbone. “As long as it’s you babysitting me, then I guess I’ll survive.”

Dani hums, a quiet sound of acknowledgment, and watches as the others down their drinks in quick succession. Thaliah pours herself another almost immediately, the bottle already half-empty, while Jalen laughs at something on his phone.

Paige leans closer to Dani, her weight warm and familiar. “You sure?” she murmurs, quieter this time, like she’s still trying to figure Dani out.

“I’m sure,” Dani says, her tone firm but not unkind. She offers Paige a small smile, hoping it’s enough to keep her from asking again.

The clock ticks toward 8:30, and the energy in the room begins to shift. Thaliah’s already scrolling through her phone, checking who’s on their way, while Jalen adjusts the playlist, turning the volume up just a little. Paige doesn’t move from her spot next to Dani, her leg pressed against hers, her head tilting to rest briefly on Dani’s shoulder.

The first wave of people start filtering in just past 8:30, the quiet hum of the house replaced by the buzz of voices, the bass of the music turned up to match the growing energy.

It’s not just close friends who show up—there are teammates, classmates, random people from their grade, and even a few who Dani swears she’s never seen before. Paige doesn’t seem to mind; in fact, she thrives on it. By now, Paige is already tipsy—not slurring her words or stumbling, but the telltale signs are there. Her laugh is louder, her smile wider, and her touch more insistent.

Dani feels Paige’s hand on her arm before she even sees her. Paige leans into her, shoulder bumping hers, her other arm draped casually across Dani’s waist like it belongs there. “You good?” Paige asks, her voice warm and loose, her words just slightly stretched out by the alcohol.

Dani nods. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Paige grins, her fingers giving Dani’s side a small squeeze before she turns her attention to someone else who calls her name. Even as Paige moves to greet them, her hand doesn’t leave Dani’s waist, her thumb brushing absentmindedly against the fabric of Dani’s shirt.

It’s not unusual for Paige to be affectionate, but the alcohol has made her even clingier than usual. Dani feels the weight of her touch constantly—Paige’s hand at her back, her arm slung over Dani’s shoulders, her knee pressing against Dani’s as they sit on the couch. It’s both comforting and a little overwhelming, especially when the house starts to fill with more and more people.

Eventually, Dani manages to slip away. Paige is busy chatting with Jalen and a couple guys on his team, and Dani uses the distraction to excuse herself, heading toward the bathroom for a moment of quiet.

When she emerges, the noise hits her again—laughter and music and the occasional sound of someone yelling in victory or frustration. Dani spots Thaliah near the kitchen and makes her way over, grateful for the familiar face.

Thaliah grins when she sees her, holding up a drink. “Surviving?”

“Barely,” Dani jokes, though there’s some truth to it. She’s still nervous about her dad, what probably won’t—but could—happen, a pit in her stomach.

She and Thaliah end up standing together near the makeshift beer pong table in the dining room, watching as Paige and Jalen take on two of their classmates. Paige is a little unsteady but clearly having the time of her life, laughing and leaning against the table as she lines up her shots. She’s unsurprisingly good, sinking cup after cup while Jalen cheers her on. It’s not long before Thaliah’s getting bored of spectating, mumbling something about needing another drink and walking away.

When Paige and Jalen win, the aformentioned throws her hands up in triumph, her laugh echoing above the rest of the noise. “Let’s go!” she yells, her voice bright and slurred, and Jalen high-fives her enthusiastically.

Then Paige turns, her eyes scanning the room until they land on Dani. Her entire face lights up, and before Dani can brace herself, Paige is weaving through the crowd, heading straight for her.

“Did you see that, baby?” Paige exclaims, throwing an arm over Dani’s shoulder, her weight pressing into her side. Her lips brush against Dani’s cheek as she leans close, her breath warm against Dani’s ear. “I won!”

Dani can’t help but laugh, steadying Paige with a hand on her waist. “Yeah, you did, P. Nice job.”

Paige beams, her cheeks flushed, and leans into Dani even more, her head briefly resting against Dani’s shoulder. For a moment, they just stand there, Paige sipping from her cup while Dani tries not to think too hard about how Paige’s hand is now resting on her hip.

“Dan,” Paige says suddenly, her voice softer now, almost contemplative. “If you don’t wanna drink, that’s fine, but…” She pauses, fumbling with her pocket before pulling out a sleek vape pen. She holds it out to Dani, her grin lopsided and playful. “At least take a couple hits of this. You’re sooooo tense.”

Dani blinks, caught off guard. “I’m not tense.”

“Yes, you are,” Paige insists, nudging the pen closer to Dani. Her other arm tightens around Dani’s shoulders, as if to emphasize her point. “Come on, baby. Chill out, we’re supposed to be havin’ fun!”

Dani rolls her eyes, a small smile lifting her lips as she takes the pen from Paige’s hand. She supposes she is a little tense. “Fine,” she mutters, earning a victorious cheer from Paige.

She takes a couple hits, the smoke smooth and warm in her lungs. It’s not much, but it’s enough to take the edge off, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly.

When she glances at Paige, she finds her already staring, her gaze heavy and a little glazed over. Paige leans in closer, her eyes locked on Dani’s mouth as she exhales, the smoke curling between them.

“Gimme some,” Paige murmurs, her voice low and slightly rough.

Dani starts to hand her the pen, but Paige shakes her head, a drunken smirk tugging at her lips. “Uh-uh,” she says, her tone teasing as she nods toward Dani.

It takes Dani a second to understand, but when she does, her cheeks warm. Still, she doesn’t argue. She takes another hit, holding it briefly before leaning in, her lips just barely brushing Paige’s as she exhales, the smoke passing between them.

The moment stretches, charged and intimate, and then Paige closes the distance, her lips soft and insistent against Dani’s. The kiss begins softly, almost tentative despite the alcohol in Paige’s system. Her lips are warm and slightly parted, brushing against Dani’s like a question she’s waiting for Dani to answer. Dani freezes for a moment, caught off guard, but then Paige presses closer, her hand cupping Dani’s cheek, and Dani lets herself fall into it.

Paige’s lips move against hers, slow and searching at first, but as the seconds stretch, the kiss deepens. There’s a quiet desperation in the way Paige tilts her head, her fingers sliding into Dani’s hair as if anchoring herself there. Her breath is warm and faintly sweet, carrying the tang of the vodka she’s been drinking, and it mixes with the sharp taste of smoke lingering on Dani’s lips.

Dani’s hand comes up instinctively, resting on Paige’s waist to steady her as she kisses back. Paige melts into the touch, leaning her entire body weight into Dani like she’s afraid to let go. Her other hand moves to Dani’s jaw, her thumb brushing over the edge of her cheekbone in a way that sends a shiver down Dani’s spine.

It’s messy, uncoordinated in the way that drunk kisses often are, but it’s also charged with a kind of raw emotion that makes Dani’s heart ache. Paige’s movements are eager and insistent, her lips sliding against Dani’s with just enough pressure to make Dani feel like she’s on the edge of something big, something she’s not sure she’s ready for.

Paige tilts her head again, deepening the kiss further. Her teeth catch lightly on Dani’s bottom lip, and Dani feels a quiet gasp leave her mouth, barely audible above the noise of the party. Paige takes the opportunity to slip her tongue past Dani’s lips, tasting her.

Dani doesn’t mean to respond so strongly, but her fingers tighten on Paige’s waist, pulling her closer until there’s no space left between them. Paige responds with a soft, almost needy sound, her nails lightly grazing the nape of Dani’s neck as she presses closer still.

The world around them blurs completely—Dani is vaguely aware of the music, the distant hum of voices, but it all feels far away, like a dream she’s not ready to wake up from. All she can focus on is Paige: the warmth of her mouth, the way her breath hitches every time Dani kisses her back just a little harder, the way she clings to Dani like this kiss is the only thing keeping her grounded.

Paige pulls back just slightly, enough to breathe but not enough to break the moment. Her lips are red and slightly swollen, her breath shallow and unsteady as she whispers, “God, Dani…”

Her forehead rests against Dani’s for a beat, her eyes fluttering open to meet Dani’s as she catches her breath. But then Paige is leaning back in, capturing Dani’s lips again with a hunger that takes Dani’s breath away. The kiss is deeper now, more urgent, and Dani finds herself gripping Paige’s waist harder, her other hand sliding up to rest against Paige’s back.

Paige’s fingers thread through Dani’s hair, tugging gently as she angles her head, and Dani feels her knees wobble slightly. Paige must notice, because she shifts, pressing Dani back against the wall for support without breaking the kiss. The cool surface against Dani’s back contrasts sharply with the heat radiating from Paige, grounding her even as the kiss makes her head spin.

Paige’s lips trail down Dani’s jawline, the kisses wet and clumsy but full of a drunken intensity that leaves Dani breathless. By the time Paige reaches her neck, her lips part, pressing open-mouthed kisses against the sensitive skin there, her breath warm and uneven. Dani feels herself shiver despite the heat radiating between their bodies, her hands reflexively gripping Paige’s hips to steady her.

Paige hums low in her throat, the sound almost like a purr, vibrating against Dani’s skin. “Dan,” she murmurs, her voice desperate and slurred, “need you so bad.”

Dani lets out a soft laugh, unable to hide her amusement at Paige’s sheer neediness. She tilts her head slightly, giving Paige a bit of space while teasing, “Uh-uh.”

Paige immediately protests, her lips brushing against Dani’s collarbone as she pulls back just enough to grumble, “Yes, huh.” Her voice is petulant, like a kid arguing over bedtime, and it’s so quintessentially Paige that Dani can’t help but chuckle again.

“P,” Dani says, still laughing softly, “you’re so drunk.”

Paige finally pulls back, her lips swollen and her cheeks flushed, and she pouts at Dani, her big blue eyes glassy with alcohol and indignation. “No, I’m not,” she insists, her tone petulant but her words slightly slurred, betraying the lie.

Dani raises a brow, smirking as she tucks a stray strand of Paige’s blonde hair behind her ear. “Yeah, babe, you are,” she says, her voice soft but firm. “And we aren’t doing anything here tonight.”

Paige groans dramatically, throwing her head back like Dani just told her Christmas was canceled. “You’re no fun,” she mumbles, before collapsing forward and leaning all of her weight into Dani.

Dani stumbles slightly, pressed fully against the wall as Paige rests her head against Dani’s shoulder, her arms wrapping loosely around Dani’s waist. Dani pats Paige on the back, still laughing at her dramatics. “You’ll survive.”

“No, I won’t,” Paige grumbles into Dani’s shoulder, her voice muffled and childlike. “You’re so mean.”

Dani shakes her head, her grin widening. “Yeah, yeah. I’m the meanest girlfriend in the world.” She shifts her weight, trying to stand upright despite Paige’s clinginess.

Paige nuzzles into Dani’s neck, her lips brushing her skin again, though it’s less intentional now and more out of sheer drunken affection. “Still love you, though,” Paige murmurs, her words slurred but earnest, and it makes Dani’s chest tighten in spite of herself.

“Love you too, P,” Dani says softly, smoothing a hand over Paige’s back. “Let’s go sit down, ‘kay?”

Paige groans again, half-protesting, but she doesn’t resist as Dani gently guides her toward the couch. She’s still clinging to Dani, her steps unsteady and her grip loose but insistent, and Dani knows it’s going to be a long night. But she doesn’t mind—not when it’s Paige. Never when it’s Paige.

Paige slumps against the couch cushions, her head lolling to one side, her legs sprawled out in a careless, almost exaggerated manspread that makes Dani roll her eyes, though she can’t suppress the small grin tugging at her lips. Paige looks completely gone—her eyelids heavy, her cheeks flushed, and her movements languid.

“I’m gonna get you some water,” Dani says, brushing her hand over Paige’s shoulder.

“Nooo,” Paige whines, her hand shooting out to grab at Dani’s wrist. It’s a clumsy effort, her fingers barely wrapping around Dani’s arm. “Don’t go.”

Dani lightly swats at Paige’s hand, shaking it off gently. “I’ll only be a second. Be patient.”

Paige groans, letting her head fall back against the couch dramatically, but her grip loosens. “Fine,” she mutters, dragging the word sulkily.

Dani steps away quickly, navigating through the still-buzzing crowd of teenagers in the house. Music thumps in the background, but it feels like white noise compared to the task at hand. She reaches the kitchen and pours a glass of water, the sound of liquid filling the cup drowned out by distant laughter and chatter. Dani moves fast, threading her way back to the couch.

When she returns, Paige is still slumped where Dani left her, looking half-asleep. Dani hands her the glass. “Here. Drink.”

Paige takes it reluctantly, holding the cup like it’s some kind of punishment, but she starts sipping. Her free hand tugs at Dani’s arm until Dani sits down beside her again, and Paige immediately leans into her, her weight warm and heavy against Dani’s side. Dani sighs, wrapping an arm loosely around Paige’s shoulders to keep her upright.

By now, it’s well past one in the morning, and the party has started to blur into a sluggish haze. Dani glances around the room, noting how many kids are still there, laughing, drinking, some making out in corners. It’s chaos, but a controlled kind—the kind Dani knows Paige thrives in, especially when she’s drunk and her walls are down.

Thaliah appears suddenly, stumbling over to them with a grin. She eyes the glass of water in Paige’s hand and giggles. “Mmm, good idea,” Thaliah slurs, nodding approvingly. “Sobering up so you can go drink more later. Maybe I’ll do that.”

Dani watches, wanting to bang her head against the wall as Paige’s eyes light up at Thaliah’s word. “That is a good idea—”

“No,” Dani cuts in sharply, shooting Thaliah—and then Paige—a pointed look. “No more drinking.”

Paige whines, turning her face toward Dani. “Why not?”

“Because you’re already—” Dani starts, but she doesn’t get to finish.

A shadow falls over them, and Dani’s heart drops. She looks up, and there he is. Bob Bueckers, standing in front of the couch, his face a mix of fury and disgust as he takes in the scene before him: his house packed with drunk teenagers, music blaring, solo cups that are undoubtedly filled with alcohol littering every surface. Clearly, he decided not to spend the night at his parent’s house with Drew.

Thaliah freezes, her eyes wide as she immediately begins tiptoeing away from the couch, leaving Dani and Paige to fend for themselves. Paige, still leaning heavily against Dani, looks up blearily, her expression slow to register what’s happening. When she finally recognizes her father, her reaction is painfully on-brand.

“Uh-oh,” she mumbles, blinking up at him with an almost childlike innocence.

Dani closes her eyes briefly, resisting the urge to facepalm. Paige’s drunken state is painfully obvious, and Dani already knows this is going to be a disaster.

“Uh-oh?” Bob repeats, his voice low and dangerous. Then, louder: “Uh-oh?”

Paige straightens slightly, though her movements are still slow and uncoordinated. She raises her hands in a sloppy gesture of surrender, smiling hazily. “It’s… it’s a party! We’re… ce-celebrating.”

Bob stares at her, his jaw tightening as his face flushes with barely contained anger. “A party?” he repeats, his voice sharp. “What the hell, Paige?”

Paige just shrugs, looking far too pleased with herself for someone caught red-handed. Dani feels like she might melt into the couch from secondhand embarrassment.

Bob doesn’t wait for an answer. He looks around the room, his voice booming as he yells, “The party’s over! Everyone out, right now! If you’re not gone in two minutes, I’m calling the cops!”

The reaction is immediate. Teenagers start scrambling for the exits, grabbing their coats, phones, and friends as they rush to leave. Dani watches the chaos unfold, spotting Thaliah and Jalen slipping out the front door together. She sighs, about to stand and leave too, assuming that Bob will want her out of the house as well.

But before she can move, Paige’s arms tighten around her waist.

“No!” Paige protests, pulling Dani back onto the couch with surprising strength for someone so drunk. Dani sighs again, her back stiff as Paige clings to her like a lifeline.

“Paige, let go,” Dani whispers, glancing nervously at Bob.

“No,” Paige mumbles, burying her face in Dani’s shoulder.

Bob, meanwhile, is still ushering the last of the partygoers out the door, his voice firm and unyielding. Once the house is empty, the silence feels deafening. It’s just the three of them now—Bob, Dani, and a very drunk Paige.

Dani swallows hard, her pulse thudding in her ears. She braces herself, waiting for Bob to unleash whatever wrath he’s been holding back. If she’s lucky, she’ll escape this with just a scolding. If she’s not… well, she doesn’t want to think about that. She really hopes he doesn’t end up hating her after this—he’s the closest thing she’s got when it comes to the good father figure department.

Paige, oblivious to the tension, tightens her hold on Dani and sighs happily. “Love you,” she mumbles into Dani’s shoulder, and Dani wants to disappear entirely.

Bob finally comes back over to stand before the two teenage girls on the couch, massaging his temple with the heel of his hand. Dani sits stiffly, her back ramrod straight and her knees pressed tightly together. Paige is draped against her side, unbothered by the tension crackling in the air, her head lolling lazily against Dani’s shoulder. Dani can feel the warmth of Paige’s skin through her sweatshirt, a stark contrast to the icy knot forming in her stomach.

Dani has never seen Bob angry before. He’s always been the calm dad, the fun one, the nice one. But there’s something in his posture now—the way his shoulders slump under an invisible weight—that reminds Dani of her own father. And if it’s anything like that, she’d prefer to run now.

But she doesn’t. Her legs feel glued to the couch, her posture rigid, fingers drumming anxiously in her lap. She fights the urge to bite her nails, her gaze darting nervously between Bob and the floor. The silence stretches on, unbearable, until Bob finally looks up.

His eyes flicker over Paige first, scanning her flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes, before shifting to Dani. His gaze lands on her like a weight, making her squirm despite herself.

“Are you sober?” Bob asks, his voice low and steady but with an edge of exhaustion.

Dani nods quickly, her throat too dry to speak. Before she can even think of a follow-up, Paige chimes in, her words slow and slurred. “She is,” Paige announces proudly, as if Dani’s sobriety is some kind of personal achievement. “Said she wanted to be reeeesponsible.” The word stretches out into a lazy drawl, and Dani winces.

Bob’s gaze sharpens as it shifts back to Paige. His jaw tightens, and when he speaks, his voice is harder now, disappointment cutting through every syllable. “I wish that responsibility would’ve reflected onto you.”

Paige shrugs one shoulder, an exaggerated, floppy movement. “Lighten up, Dad,” she mutters, reaching for the hem of Dani’s shirt and fiddling with it absentmindedly.

Bob doesn’t lighten up. Instead, he launches into a quiet but firm tirade, scolding Paige for the party, the drinking, the sheer lack of judgment. The words spill out like a steady stream, but Dani can tell they’re bouncing off Paige, who isn’t even trying to follow along. She’s too busy twisting the fabric of Dani’s shirt around her fingers, her head tilted back against the couch cushion like this is just another ordinary night.

Dani can’t take it anymore. She clears her throat, shifting forward on the couch as she tries to catch Bob’s attention. “We’re really sorry about all of this,” she says, before flickering her gaze over to Paige who looks like she couldn’t care less. “I’m really sorry about all of this. I shouldn’t have let her drink so much. I should’ve kept everyone else more in check since I was the sober one. I’m really sorry.”

Bob rubs his temple again, his eyes closing briefly as he exhales through his nose. “I appreciate that, Dani,” he says finally, his tone softening just a fraction. “I just—look, I think you should go home, okay?”

Dani’s stomach sinks. She knows it’s the right thing to do, knows she probably shouldn’t even be here right now. But guilt claws at her, and she can’t help but offer, “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay and help clean up? I don’t mind.”

Bob gives her a tight, strained smile, the kind that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He shakes his head, saying, “It’s okay. I—I gotta with her.” He gestures to Paige.

Dani nods again, swallowing the lump in her throat. She starts to shift away from Paige, untangling herself from her girlfriend’s grip, but Paige immediately grabs at her arm, her fingers curling tightly around Dani’s wrist.

“No,” Paige protests, her voice suddenly sharper, though still slurred. “Dad, she’s not leaving.”

Bob’s eyes narrow, his patience clearly wearing thin. “Yes, she is,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. “No more arguments, Paige. I swear to God.”

The words hit Paige like a bucket of cold water. For a moment, she’s silent, blinking up at her dad with a look that’s almost confused. Dani uses the opportunity to slip out of her grasp, standing quickly and smoothing down the front of her sweatshirt.

She turns to Bob, her voice soft but earnest. “I’m sorry again for all of this, Mr. Bueckers.”

Bob’s expression softens slightly, and he gives her a small nod. “Thank you, Dani. And you know to call me Bob.”

Dani manages a faint smile, relief washing over her. At least he doesn’t hate her. She taps Paige gently on the shoulder—a silent goodbye—before turning and heading toward the door. Paige doesn’t say anything, just watches her leave with a glazed-over look in her eyes.

As Dani steps out into the night, the cool air hits her like a slap, and she pulls her jacket tighter around herself. She spares one last glance at the house before setting a quick pace to her own next door, needing to get out of the cold.

[sphvm]

a whole new world — sophia laforteza

sophia laforteza x fem!reader

tags: hate sex, fingering, semi-public sex, sophia’s mean, lil bit of praise, begging

masterlist

MEN AND MINORS DNI

the lights of the school hallways flickered above, students chattering excitedly about the upcoming auditions for aladdin. you had waited weeks for this moment, rehearsing your lines and brushing up on your vocal exercises. this time, you were determined to get the lead role of jasmine, and nothing would stand in your way. well, almost nothing.

sophia was the star of the school’s drama club. everyone knew it. with her outgoing personality and striking voice, she was practically born for the spotlight. last year's musical saw her take on the leading role as rapunzel in tangled, a performance that earned her applause and admiration from both students and teachers. it was basically undeniable that she would get the lead role again, but you believed in yourself and refused to let her reputation intimidate you.

after school, sophia had asked you to meet her in the auditorium. her tone had been sweet, almost rehearsed, as though she were putting on another performance. you couldn’t ignore the insinuation behind her invitation, you knew she wanted to size you up, to remind you of her status before the auditions even began. as the heavy double doors swung open, the dim light of the empty auditorium enveloped you, amplifying the anticipation in your chest.

she was already there, standing center stage with an elegance that was unmistakably her own. "hey! you made it," she said, flashing a bright smile, but there was something calculating in her eyes.

"yeah, i wouldn't miss it," you replied, trying to match her enthusiasm.

but the small talk quickly faded into tension. "so... i heard you’re really going for jasmine this year. brave choice," she said, tilting her head slightly, her smile turning sly.

you could feel the weight of her words pressing down on you. "i think i have a chance. i can sing the part, and i’m ready to take on the challenge."

she chuckled lightly, but it sounded more like a sharp intake of breath. "you know, it’s cute that you think you can steal the spotlight. it’s just—you’ve seen the past performances, right? i mean, come on," sophia said, her voice turning cold, a tinge of annoyance creeping in.

"and? am i supposed to just step aside because you’re the star?" you shot back, feeling brave. you’d practiced long enough, and you weren’t about to back down now.

"you don’t get it. i’m always the lead. that’s how this works," she argued, stepping closer, her confidence radiating like a spotlight beneath the stage lights.

"and that’s exactly why i’m going to fight you for it," you replied, meeting her gaze. the tension swirled around you, a blend of frustration and determination.

she took a step closer, looking down at you, making you feel a little smaller. “fight me for it? that’s a joke.”

strangely exhilarated by the confrontation, you felt yourself become more aggressive, your eyes narrowing as you pushed back. "i’m not scared of stealing it from you just because you’ve a brat that always gets your way."

“acting like you’d ever be better than me, all you are is a little girl with dreams that will never come true, wake up!”

in a rush of anger, you slapped her across the cheek. the sound echoed sharply through the empty auditorium. sophia’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second, but then a fierceness took hold of her features. her eyebrows furrowed and an ugly scowl plastered her face.

without a moment's hesitation, she stepped forward, closing the distance between you. she grabbed you tightly, shoving you against the walls of the stage. she crashed her lips against yours, a shocking mixture of anger and something deeper igniting between you.

you kissed her back instinctively, your heart pounding, all that existed was a mix of rivalry and something undefinable. she gripped your waist harder, her lips moving at a fast pace you couldn’t keep up with. you moaned into her mouth as your hands went up to tangle themselves in her hair. she tasted like strawberries.

she pulled away and when you opened your eyes, she looked even angrier than before. “you just fucking hit me.” your words were stuck in your throat, all you could do was stare wide eyed, your gaze moving from her lips to her eyes.

“god you’re a whore.” a low whimper escaped your throat.

her lips crashing against yours once again. her hands moved to your hair, pulling at the roots as she deepened the kiss. you moaned, your hands moving to her waist, pulling her closer to you. she ground her hips against yours, her fingers dropping to your waist, working to unzip your pants. you gasp as she slipped a hand inside, her fingers sliding up your slit.

"you’re so fucking wet," she whispered in your ear, her fingers moving in slow circles around your clit. you whimpered in her ear, your hips bucking against her hand. "do you like that, baby?" she asked, her voice low. “you like that i’m doing this?”

you nodded, unable to speak. she smirked, her fingers moving faster. "tell me you want it," she demanded, her fingers pressing harder against your clit.

"i-i want it," you breathed, your hips moving faster against her hand.

"beg me for it," she said, her fingers moving even faster.

"please, sophia, please.”

her lips found your neck as she pressed open mouthed kisses along it. “you won’t get the lead baby, so why don’t you show me what other noises that pretty voice can make?”

your hips moved frantically against her hand, as she slowed her ministrations down to a teasing pace.

"please," you begged brokenly, your body trembling, feeling the sweat drop down your back. "sophia..."

she chuckled darkly, her fingers stilled. "please what?" she whispered, her breath hot against your ear. "I want to hear it from that pretty mouth."

"please fuck me," you whimpered, your hands fisting in her hair. "please, just do it. fuck me, use me." she tsked, her fingers starting a slow circle. “i-i won’t audition for the—fuck!” her fingers suddenly entered your core, crying out at the sudden impact, your nails digging crescents into her shoulders as she impaled you on her fingers.

"fuck, you're fucking tight," she cursed, moving with a desperate frenzy. "you like that? want it rough?"

your only response was a muffled cry, your face buried in the crook of her neck. she took your mouth in a searing kiss, all thought fleeing as the sensations overtook you. all that remained was the two of you, your bodies slick with a sheen of sweat.

"god, yes..." you breathed against her lips, your words punctuated by moans of pleasure. "harder. fuck me harder..."

“you don’t make the decisions here.” she spoke, recapturing your lips, but nonetheless she obliged. her fingers slammed inside you with a newfound aggression. the sound of your slick was echoing in the otherwise silent room. it was just the two of you, but the thought that anyone could come in and find her fucking you dumb was exhilarating

there was only the slap of her fingers thrusting into you, the sound of your shared panting, and the taste of sweat on your tongue. you could feel your stomach tightening. and focusing on the way her tongue was sliding against yours wasn’t helping.

"please," you gasped out, your voice hoarse and raw. "please, don't stop..."

her lips left your mouth, her eyes were lidded and it felt like she was staring straight into your soul. “come for me, be as loud as you can. be my good girl, right?” she moved impossibly faster, adding a third finger and her thumb finding your clit. “you keep your eyes on me while you come,” she rubbed faster and faster circles until your body tensed and time stopped. waves and waves of pleasure drowned your body as you slumped against the wall. her fingers were still inside you as you finally came to.

she smiled sickenly sweet at you. “good girl.” she rubbed your cheek with her spare hand and kissed you, breaking apart with a click. “good luck trying to sing now.”

she pulled her hand away, licking the three fingers that were covered in your come, dripping down her wrist. you tried to argue back but found you couldn’t. you lost your voice.

[ismellbitches]

I’m ill over the albatrio so yall get my head canons. Some of these are a bit heavy and deal with abuse, trauma and similar themes. Maybe skip this one if you don’t feel up for it 🩷🩷

Jay:

- Kira was her bisexual awakening. They went on a summer camp together and kissed while on a hike. Neither of them have brought it up since.

- She has such bad anxiety bro. Like she is always using nervous energy to complete projects or to fight, but every few days she would just get paralysed by overwhelming anxiety and shut down. Once she shut down in front of chip, now he tries to help her in any way he can when she starts getting too worked up.

- she has a complicated relationship with gender. She’s explored a lot of different things gender wise, but doesn’t quite feel comfortable with any label she has found. She ended up talking to Jaz a bit about it when they were travelling together.

- She enjoys textile work and makes and mends most of her clothes

- She used to only be toned before her time on the Albatross, but she now has a much bulkier build.

- Her favourite subject was math

- She still has a fat crush on Anastasia

- she got a lip ring to match Chip

- She doesn’t like getting drunk around people because she thinks it makes her too honest.

Gillion:

- He loves physical touch. He used to receive so little of it in the Undersea that it is still very hard for him to iniate, but he will always lean into hugs or captain huddles like it’s the most beautiful thing in the world.

- Gillion is sex-repulsed. That’s it.

- He has a bad habit of digging his claws into the nearest person or object when he feels unsafe or ungrounded. There are so many deep gouges in the captains quarters from times where the ship would rock or he felt particularly unsafe.

- he doesn’t like to think. This one sounds weird but let me cook. It’s not for a lack of intelligence or that he doesn’t consider things deeply, it’s that when he thinks he tends to spiral, and when he spirals it is difficult for him to work. This is reflected in his reckless battle tactics, he has enough ambient knowledge to be a good tactician, but fighting is when he can fully allow instinct to take over. It makes him feel at ease.

- he has a mental list of the awful names his masters would call him. But, during his time in the Oversea, the mental list has been overwhelmed by pet names and compliments given by his fellow captains.

- Sunlight is harsh on his eye so he relies on Jay and Chip more in harsh daylight for perception and awareness.

- he likes to braid ropes, bracelets, hair. Anything he can idly do with his hands when he isn’t working

- he likes to speak Aquan with Jay. It makes him still feel connected to his home.

Chip:

- normally the instigator of any small fights between the captains. He’s so used to always having to be guarded it regularly comes as a point of conflict.

- the ice arena battle deeply wounded his trust is Gillion and Jay. He had just started to feel safe and as though he didn’t deserve to be hurt when he made mistakes, so he felt really betrayed and abandoned after the first ice arena battle. Part of him still isn’t over it.

- He’s sensitive. Reuben used to criticise how easily words and insults affected him, so he presents it a lot less than he used to. But slight criticism or irritation with him or insults really deflate his self worth.

- Chip has a complex about being the weakest link on the Albatross

- After the Black Sea, the thought of seeing Ollie in his undead state is so nauseating it makes him fall over

- The best hug he’d ever received was from Reuben. He was young, sick and hungry and it was storming fiercely on Skullslice. Reuben had held him tight and refused to let him go for the whole night, just hugging Chip while he cried.

- If he could choose any superpower, he’d want the ability to pause, rewind, or fast forward time. Also lasers.

- He has a stuffed animal in the bottom of his trunk that he’s owned since he was 4.

- It took him a long time to figure out how old he was. He didn’t know his birthday, so he ended up choosing one. He ended up picking the day Arlin has let him into the Black Rose

- He’s never tried chocolate.

- He finds Queen really pretty, but in like a platonic, gender-envy type beat

- he has a secret love for writing. He writes poetry, little stories and more, he keeps them buried at the bottom of his trunk because he’s scared of what the others will think if they see it.

- his love language is acts of service

- him, Gil and jay cuddle a lot. Don’t read into that weirdly, all the captains just really need a hug

- he holds people’s hands a lot. It’s unconscious and when he catches himself doing it he immediately stops, but Jay and Gil don’t mind.

- Gil was his gay awakening in the sense that he fell really hard for Gil as a person. But, Jaz was like huge for him because he was just like holy fuck this dude is so pretty what do I do the whole time they travelled together.

- La Alma is on his heart me out cake

[fanfictiongirlie]

Marvel: Unplanned Chapter Six

Parings: Bucky Barnes x Reader (First person written though)

Description:

"It says...it says it's positive doll" His voice matching mine in a quiet shaky whisper.

"Fuck... I'm pregnant?"

"Yeah doll, you're pregnant"

"Fuck" I whisper.

Rating: Explicit

Chapter Warnings: Daddy kink, smut, swearing

Chapter Words: 3,150

(I have the urge for every Marvel fanfic I write to have a seperate timeline where nothing bad happens, and everyone is happy)

A few weeks later Bucky and I sat in the dreaded doctor's office again, my knee was bouncing as we waited to be called in. I had hoped during my adult years I'd get over my fear of doctors, but of course not. 

Once we were finally called in, the doctor; Dr.Addams had me lie down on the table and lift my shirt. I watched the screen as it showed our baby, I felt tears in my eyes as I watched, Bucky's hand held tightly onto mine as he watched the screen, his eyes wide as he watched the screen. 

"Do you wish to know the gender?" Dr.Addams asks. Bucky glances at me, his eyes meeting mine. I nod gently to him. 

"Yeah, we'd love to know" He says to the doctor, his voice filled with anticipation. Our doctor smiles and continues to move the wand over my stomach, searching for the right angle. 

"Alright, I think we're got it, are you ready to find out?" She asks. Bucky and I nod eagerly. I feel my heart pound a little harder, mine and Bucky's hands were sweaty as we held onto one another. 

"You're having a girl" The doctor says excitedly. I squeeze Bucky's hand a little tighter. 

"A girl?" I whisper. 

"Yeah doll, we're having a girl"

Bucky couldn't stop smiling, his eyes fixated on the ultrasound screen. He leans over to me and presses a sweet kiss to my lips. Once we were done in the Doctors, we left and drove straight back to the compound, excited to tell everyone the news. I smiled fondly to myself as I drove us home, the Avengers were excited to have a baby in the building. 

Bucky walked beside me as we entered the Compound, his arm was wrapped around my shoulders, holding me close. I felt as if we both had a glow about us, from the happiness we felt. 

"Should we tell everyone now?" I ask as we walk through the hallway towards the common room. Bucky nodded, his smile not faltering one bit. 

"Yeah, let's tell them. I'm sure they're all dying to know" 

"I bet they're waiting for us" I smirk. 

"Yeah, they probably are" He grins, nodding in agreement. I take his hand in mine and pull him towards the common room, we were right, they were waiting together, huddled in the room, they had clearly been waiting for our arrival. 

"Were you waiting for us?" I ask, I step closer to Nat, her hand moved up to touch my bump, stroking me gently. The group laughed and nodded to my question. 

"Yeah, we've been sitting on the edge of our seats" Clint spoke first. 

"We wanted to know if we were getting a niece or nephew" Nat said fondly. 

I raised my hand holding it over my heart "Oh you guys, you're so cute!"

Everyone grinned, clearly enjoying themselves. I watched as Bucky walked over to Steve, the two of them doing that manly hug they always do. 

"We're having a girl!" I say excitedly. There was a chorus of excitement and cheers from the others, clearly happy and thrilled with the news. Sam lets out a whoop. 

"Wow, a girl? That's amazing" Tony adds. 

"Congratulations, you two" Nat speaks "I'm happy for you" 

I watch as Bucky grins, I walk over to where he sat and got comfortable on his lap, his arms wrapped protectively around me, his face covered in obvious happiness. 

"A girl, eh? That's wonderful news. I have a feeling she'll be as fierce and strong as her mother" Thor says, his voice bellowing throughout the room. I turned to him and smiled sweetly. 

"Thank you Thor" 

"You're welcome, and I'm sure Bucky here will be a great father! He has a good heart and a brave soul!" Thor says, slapping Bucky on the shoulder fondly. I grin and look to Bucky, my heart swelling. His eyes meet mine, a soft tender look travels between us. His hand finds mine and laces our fingers together. I lean down and pressed my lips against his, kissing him more deeply than I originally intended too. 

I moved away and muttered a sorry. 

"No need to apologise doll, I didn't mind that" He answers. 

"Mmm even though I kissed you in front of everyone?" I ask. He chuckles softly, a smirk over his lips as he looks to me. Luckily the Avengers weren't paying attention to us. 

"Yeah doll, I don't mind knowing how much my girl wants me" He murmurs, reaching up to kiss me again. 

・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

A few weeks later as I entered my 23rd week of pregnancy, I laid on my bed, it was roughly 2am, and I was awake, I groaned loudly my hand holding onto my stomach as the baby kicked me again. 

"Doll, what's wrong?" Bucky asked, his voice deep from sleep, he sat up slightly and looked at me, worry in his eyes. 

"She's fucking kicking" I groan again as the baby gets another kick in. "I just wanna sleep"

Bucky frowns, clearly concerned as he moves closer to me, he reaches up to brush a strand of my hair away from my face. 

"Is there anything I can do to help you feel more comfortable?" He asks. I feel my cheeks flush as I think of something I had read in the baby books. 

"Talk to her?" I ask, the voices feeling silly as I spoke them "The books say it might help"

Bucky's face softens, a small smile tugging at his lips, but I knew he wasn't laughing at me. 

"Yeah I can do that, I can talk to our little girl, try to get her to settle so you can sleep" He scoots closer to me and wiggles down the bed, his hand moved over my stomach, and he speaks again, his voice soft. 

"Hey there, sweetheart...It's your dada speaking, can you be good for mama, and let her sleep?" His voice was soft, and his lips brushed against the skin of my stomach as he spoke "Your kicks are making her uncomfortable" 

My heart swelled at his words, I closed my eyes as he spoke, trying to relax, Bucky's hand rubs my bump gently, continuing to speak in a low, soothing tone. I felt the baby kick again, I groaned. 

"Come on, darlin'. Settle down, your mama needs her rest, I promise you can kick as much as you want when she's had some sleep, okay?" 

"Hey!" I whine "Don't tell her she can kick!"

Bucky grins at me, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he chuckles. 

"What? I can't tell our little girl to kick her mama as much as she wants? That's no fun!" 

"You're a dick" I say, groaning as she kicks again. Bucky laughs and presses a kiss to my bump. 

"Hey! Watch the language doll, we don't want our girl's first word to be a curse, do we?" He smirks, I definitely swore too much, and he always commented on it. 

"Oh shut up" I say rolling my eyes "She hasn't even been born yet, she can't hear me swear...can she?" I ask, unsure, could she hear me? Bucky grins and shakes his head, his hand rubbing my bump softly. 

"She can definitely hear you. They say babies can hear voices and noises from the outside word whilst they're in the womb, so watch your mouth" He grins "You don't want our little girl to grow up with a potty mouth, do you?"

"I hate that you read the baby books" I say smirking, joking of course. Bucky laughs and shrugs. 

"I want to be a good father, I figured I ought to do some research and educate myself, don't hate on me for being a responsible daddy" He grins, beaming as he bigs himself up. 

"Mmm I think daddy should come up here and kiss me" I smirk, feeling a little silly, but it felt hot saying it, and by the way Bucky's eyes darkened, I could see he liked it too. 

"Oh yeah? You want daddy to come up there and give you some loving?" 

"Mmm yeah"

Bucky grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief, he slowly crawls up the bed, approaching me. 

"You want lovin' from daddy doll?" He asks again. 

"I do baby" I smirk, loving the game I had started. Bucky grins, his eyes smoldering as he moves closer to me, now hovering over me. 

"You like it when daddy takes charge, don't you? You like it when daddy gives you what you want?" He whispers. 

"Fuck yes, yeah I do" 

Bucky growls low in his throat, his eyes darkening further, he moves closer, pressing his body against mine. 

"You want daddy to give it do you baby?" He asks quietly. Each time he says the word, it sends sparks down to my pussy. I needed him. 

"Daddy" I said, breathing heavy, my eyes now closed "Give it to me" 

Bucky was grinding his hips down onto mine, his hard cock rubbing against my pussy, only his boxers and my pyjama bottoms in between us. 

"Oh I'll give it to you" He whispers, his throat letting out a low, feral growl, he moves forward nuzzling his face into my neck, his lips grazing my skin. "Daddy's gonna give you everything you want, and more, just say the word and it's yours"

"Fuck me please" I whisper as I rub my hips up towards his. I could feel how wet I was, a wet patch obvious were he had been rubbing on my pyjama trousers. Finally Bucky's fingers snake into my trousers, he lets out a low guttural groan as his fingers slide into me with ease. 

"Fuck, you're so wet, so wet for daddy" He groans, his fingers spreading my tight hole. 

"Flip me over and fuck me" I demand softly, his eyes snap to mine, looking at me with such need, I watch as he smirks, he moved his fingers away from my pussy and to my hip, gently he flips my body over, pulling me up on my knees. I rested my arms on the bed, holding myself up. 

I shivered as I felt him line his cock up to my hole, he pushes forward and enters me, his head falls forward and rests in the middle of my shoulders as he pushes completely against my hips. 

Bucky let's out a stifled groan as he enters me completely. He waits a moment, and then slams into me, I moan loudly, my head falling forward to rest on the pillow. 

"Fuck yes daddy" I whine. Bucky lets out another low growl, his grip on my hips tightening as he picks up the pace, his body slamming into mine. 

"Feels good, huh? Feels good having daddy take your tight little hole? You like this, don't you? Fuck, you're so perfect baby, play with yourself for daddy" His words were rushed, and low as his cock stretched me out. I moaned at his words, and did as told I snaked my arm down and played with my clit, rubbing myself harshly, needing to come. It didn't take me long, I felt myself tightening around him, my legs become weaker as I come, his grip on my hips holding me up. 

"Fuck, yes Bucky, you're so fucking good at that" I moan. Bucky groans loudly, his hips moving faster as he releasing into me, coating my inner walls. I clenched his cock as he moved out of me, causing him to groan. 

"Fuck, that was good" I whisper as he flops half on me and half on the bed, careful not to lay on my bump. 

"That was really good doll"

I groan again as the baby kicks my stomach. 

"Ow!"

"She kicking again?" He asks, his hand moving to rub my stomach. 

"Yeah, I might take a bath, maybe it'll calm her down" I say, climbing out of bed. Bucky follows, pushing my gently back on the bed. 

"A bath sounds like a good idea, I'll go run it for you" He grins walking into my bathroom, I waited on the bed, rubbing my stomach absentmindedly. Once the bath was drawn, Bucky came and took my hand in his, pulling me towards the bathroom, I step into the water moaning at the feeling of the warm water on my skin. 

"How's the water doll? Not too hot, right?" He asks sitting on the floor next to the tub. 

"It's lovely" I sigh happily, as I relax into the water. Bucky grins and reaches out to stroke my hair gently. 

"Good, just relax and enjoy, you need if after a long day of carrying our girl around" He whispers. 

"Mmmm you're so nice" I say, sighing happily. "Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Sure doll"

"We've been officially dating for what..3 weeks or so? Why haven't you taken me out on a proper date?" I ask, I turn my head to lean on the tub, my eyes locking with his. Bucky looks at me surprised and a little sheepish, he scratches the back of his head, looking a bit embarrassed. 

"Uhhh...well...I've just been...I've just been focused on taking care of you, you know? With the baby, I figured it was more important to be here for you, make sure you're comfortable and everything. I guess I didn't really think about taking you out on a proper date...I'm sorry" He rambles, I smirk enjoying the flustered Bucky. 

"Lame excuse" I say "I wanna be wined and dined, just without the wined part" I say making a sad face, not being allowed wine at the minute. Bucky chuckles and grins, amused. He reaches and rubs my arm, his touch affectionate. 

"I get it doll, I'll take you on a proper date, I promise, I'll spoil you rotten"

"Sounds perfect" I say, I take another deep breath moving again to get comfortable, the baby stopped kicking thankfully "What shall we name her?"

Bucky thinks for a moment, his eyes look down to my bump and then back to my eyes "Hmm, I don't know...Do you have any names in mind?"

"I'm not sure" I say truthfully. 

Bucky smiles and reaches up gently to caress my cheek. "We have plenty of time to figure it out, we can look through the baby books to get some ideas"

"I like that idea" I say wistfully, the water relaxing my whole body. "She's not kicking anymore...We should pick godparents, I know we won't be officially baptising her, but I'd like to have two people there incase anything happens to us" 

"That's a good idea darling" He agrees, his expression suddenly very serious, he takes my hand in his and squeezes it gently. 

"Who though?" I ask. 

I watch as Bucky thinks for a moment, his hand still holding mine. "Hmm, well I would like Steve to be one of those people, he's reliable, responsible and he'd do anything to protect her"

"Yeah Stevie's an obvious choice" I smile, I knew Bucky would probably have picked Steve, so it only made sense that I chose my best friend.

"I'd like Nat to be a godparent too, she's my best friend, she's do anything for me and for our little girl" I say softly, my eyes drooping slightly, the bath relaxing me. 

"I have another thing to tell you" I say suddenly, I had meant to tell Bucky this earlier today, but I had completely forgotten. Bucky cocked his head, looking at me, waiting for me to speak. 

"Tony has been renovating a new apartment space for us, it'll be bigger with a main bedroom, a nursery and a small living room and connected kitchen, he thought it'd be nice for when the baby was here" I say, nerves kicking up over my body. 

"That makes sense doll, we spend every night together anyway, might as well make it permanent" He grins and moves forward pressing a kiss to my forehead. 

"We can paint her nursery pink" I giggle sleepily. 

Bucky chuckles at my excitement, his eyebrows lifting in amused surprise. "Pink huh? You already have your heart set on pink?"

"Oh definitely, my favourite colour is pink, and I have a feeling she will love it too!" I grin. 

"Oh, you think so huh? You think she'll take after her mama?" 

"I hope so, knowing my luck she'll be a complete mini you" I smirk. Bucky laughs softly, a cocky smirk on his lips. 

"You say that like it's a bad thing" 

"Hmm maybe" I smirk playfully "I can't believe we're having a daughter, like we're having a baby" 

Bucky's smile softens, his expression turning fond as he gazes to my baby bump, as it poked above the water slightly. "Yeah doll, I can't believe it either, it's surreal...In a few months we'll have a little girl, it's kind of crazy to think about"

"We really need to start shopping" I say laughing softly, we hadn't done any shopping yet. "So, we gonna talk about earlier?" I ask, thinking back to the sex, the warmth in my legs growing as I thought about it. I watch as Bucky blushes. 

"I guess we got a little carried away...Didn't we?" He said sheepishly. 

"You seemed to like it...daddy" I smirked. I watched as his blush deepens, his smirk widening into a cocky grin. 

"Don't get cheeky doll, talking to daddy like that"

"I'm sorry daddy" I smirk, blowing bath bubbles at him. He laughs, his expression transforming into a look of playfulness. 

"You're not sorry, you're being a brat" He says, his voice low and dark. 

"Okay...so you definitely like the daddy play" I say smirking. 

"Oh yeah doll, I really liked it. Couldn't you tell by my reaction?" He says, his expression slightly mischievous. 

"Think I'm done with the bath" I say, standing up, I watch as Bucky shamelessly lets his gaze wander up and down my naked body, admiring my figure. I grab a towel and dry myself off, Bucky grabs me a new set of pyjamas, helping me get into them, I smiled warmly at him, feeling my heart swell. We climbed back into bed, he follows me, and wraps his arms around me, pulling me close against his body, he nuzzles his face into my neck, his breath tickling my skin. 

"Goodnight Buck" I whisper. I feel as Bucky presses a kiss to my skin "Goodnight doll, sleep well, sweet dreams" He rambles, I wait a little bit, not able to fall asleep just yet, I snuggle closer to him, listening to his breathing, I smiled softly when I heard soft snores next to me. I turn my head slightly to look at him. Bucky was asleep, he looked so peaceful, and perfect. 

"I love you" I whisper, as I close my eyes, resting my forehead against his, ready to sleep. 

(I do not consent my works to be posted anywhere else, by anyone other than myself)

Taglist:

@quinquinquincy @jaybbygrl @wintrsoldrluvr @sebastians-love @learisa @hi172826 @ravennablue @purplecolordeer @a-small-blue-nebula @buckitostan

[nimbusclan]

Moon 2

[Previous] [Start] [Next]

“Moonpaw, wake up. We have to keep moving. Moonpaw.” 

Moonpaw mrrps in sleepy protest as she's jostled awake by her brother's paw digging insistently into her shoulder. She cracks one bleary eye open, momentarily disoriented by her surroundings. 

Right. They’re not at home. They don't have a home.

She stands, stiff from sleeping on bark, her muscles protesting as she arches her back and stretches her legs. The sun that slots into their log from an opening at the top paints the inside in streaks of rich reds and browns, so different from the cool, smooth stone she’s used to waking up to. She misses her moss nest fiercely in that moment, the weight of her grief threatening to overwhelm her, but she forces the feeling away with a shake of her head. There is no comfortable, warm nest for her to return to. Not now, not ever, and she needs to move on.

“Coming,” she mumbles sleepily, rubbing a paw against her eyes as Fogpaw turns and ducks out of the log. “How'd you sleep?” She stumbles out into the sunlight and shivers in the weak, earling morning newleaf air.

“I've certainly slept better,” Fogpaw mews, licking a paw and drawing it over one of his ears. “Best not to dwell on it. Breakfast first.”

Moonpaw nods, padding after Fogpaw as he weaves through the sparse mountain pines. She opens her mouth, scenting for prey, and sets her ears on a swivel to better hone in on the skittering of small paws through the bed of fallen pine needles that soften the cats' footfalls.

The breeze drifts the scent of mouse towards Moonpaw and her tail flicks up in excitement. She shoots a look Fogpaw's way and he nods and veers off in another direction, allowing her this hunt to chase his own prey.

Creeping forward, the words of her former mentor rings in her ears. Keep your paws light. Even so much as a scattered pebble will alert your catch to your presence. She never was able to complete her training and earn her warrior name, she thinks with a pang, but files that sadness away for later. She has enough information to know how to hunt, and she and Fogpaw will have plenty of time to practice now.

The mouse she's stalking shows itself, leaping onto the root of a tree, little whiskers twitching. Moonpaw waggles her haunches, preparing to launch herself at it, but as she leaps she slips on the loose pine needles underfoot and falls short of her catch. The mouse darts away and she lunges forward, hoping to snag it with a claw as it escapes, but it's too far from her outstretched paws and disappears into a hole in the ground.

“Star-damned trees,” Moonpaw growls to herself and sits back with a huff, her tail tip twitching. “Hunting on the mountain was so much easier.”

Prey continues to evade her for the rest of the afternoon. Squirrels run up trees, voles dive for cover under the leaf litter, and one particularly annoying chase after a songbird ends with Moonpaw landing in a puddle of mud.

She screeches with disgust, the bird long gone, and drags herself out of the mud to shake her fur. Her nose wrinkles in disgust at the state of her pelt. This is going to take ages to clean out of her white fur. Hopefully, Fogpaw is faring better with his hunt.

She follows her brother's scent trail to find him laden with mice, pawfuls of them at his feet. As he glances up and makes eye contact with her, the corner of his muzzle ticks up in amusement. “Rough hunt?”

“Do. Not,” Moonpaw huffs, eyeing his sleek, clean coat enviously. She drops herself next to him in a patch of sunlight and begins to groom her coat. Between mouthfuls of fur, she says, “we need to find someplace else on the territory to stay. This is no place for a mountain cat to settle.” She darts a pointed look at his small mountain of prey. “Except for you, maybe.”

Fogpaw mrrps a laugh and pushes a mouse towards her. “You can have some. I caught plenty.” He settles onto his paws and helps Moonpaw clear the mud from her fur. “I agree, though. I think we should look around the rockier places of our territory until we find a place that could work as a new camp.”

“A whole camp?” Moonpaw says doubtfully, tongue paused in her grooming. “I could settle for a couple of safe hollows in a rock. What do we need a whole camp for?”

“Rebuilding NimbusClan, of course.”

“Oh, Fogpaw–”

“No, Moon, seriously. I don't want to spend the rest of our days as rogues. I want–” he falters, eyeing her hesitantly before continuing. “I've always wanted a family, one like ours. Mom and Dad and us, it just… made me so happy, you know? I want that for myself one day.” He casts his eyes away from her, his shoulders hiking up around his ears, and Moonpaw knows he’s fighting back tears.

Moonpaw smiles gently at Fogpaw, her own eyes misting a little. “It made me happy too, Fogpaw. Makes me happy. They're watching over us in StarClan, I'm sure of it.” She curls her tail reassuringly over his back. 

“I'm sure they are,” He murmurs, resting his head against hers. “I miss them.”

“I miss them, too.”

They sit that way for a while, purring softly with each other as the newleaf breeze plays over their fur. Eventually, they tuck into the mice Fogpaw caught, and then curl together to take a nap in the sunshine.

[Previous] [Start] [Next]

---

(Okay so yes I know moons are months and so far the timeline of the fic portions doesn’t exactly line up with that, but bear with me for the sake of storytelling purposes)

[my-religion-greek-myth]

Freedom far away - I&J

GAh I lost my martial arts competition in the finals! The next part will be urm.. smut?

Fem Reader X Agatha X Rio

Warning: Just a bit of violence, and kissy kissy

Part A | Part B | Part C&D | Part E | Part F | Part G | Part H | Part I&J | Part K | Part L | Part M | Part ?

When you finally approached the gate of your household, the familiar sight of the looming walls felt colder than usual. The night had fully settled in, the stars offering little solace as you stepped through the entrance. As you paused just inside the gate, your gaze fell to your feet.

After the torrent of tears and hurried explanations, you finally noticed what Agatha and Rio had pointed out earlier: you were barefoot when you arrived at their house. A sharp ache brought your attention to the scratches and faint traces of blood marking your skin, souvenirs of your frantic escape. You hadn’t even realised in your haste that you had run all the way to their house without shoes.

The absurdity of it made you wince. How reckless had you been to not even notice? You recalled the moment when Rio exaggeratedly gasped at your bare feet, clutching her chest dramatically. Agatha had let out a deep sigh, her sharp eyes softening slightly as she knelt to inspect the damage. They had both fussed over the small wounds with surprising care before Agatha, with a flick of her wrist and a flourish of purple mist, produced a pair of shoes that fit as if they had always belonged to you.

Now, standing at your own gate once more, those shoes felt heavier than they should, as though they carried the warmth and reassurance of the heaven you had just left behind.

Almost immediately, a servant approached, their expression taut with unease.

"My lady," they began hesitantly, bowing low. "The Lord has given orders… you are to inform him immediately upon your return."

Your stomach twisted, but you managed a curt nod. The servant led the way, the air between you thick with tension. As you reached the door to your grandfather’s study, you hesitated, your hand hovering over the handle. The faint murmur of voices reached your ears, and you realised with a sinking feeling that you were not walking into a private scolding.

When you finally pushed the door open, the sight before you made your heart sink. The room was filled—your parents, siblings, uncles, and aunts—all gathered under the oppressive gaze of your grandfather. The size of the study, usually imposing, felt suffocating, with so many eyes turning toward you.

Your grandfather stood at the far end, his presence dominating the space. His glare was like a physical weight bearing down on you as you stepped inside. You barely had time to close the door before he moved.

With one swift motion, his hand came down hard across your cheek. The force of the blow sent you stumbling back, the sting radiating through your skin as gasps erupted around the room.

"Father!" your own father called out, his voice sharp with shock and anger.

Your grandfather ignored your father entirely, his steely gaze fixed solely on you. The weight of his glare was colder than you’d ever seen, and when he finally spoke, his voice was a low, dangerous growl.

"Do you have any idea what you’ve done?" he demanded, his tone sharp enough to cut. "Running away from your responsibilities? From the marriage proposal of a lifetime? Do you comprehend the disgrace you’ll bring upon this family if word of this escapes? The ridicule—our house, reduced to a laughingstock among the nobles?" His words fell like hammer blows, each one heavier than the last. The disdain in his voice was palpable, his fury simmering beneath a thin veneer of composure.

You clenched your jaw, the taste of iron faint on your tongue as you resisted the urge to reply. The weight of his words pressed down on you, but so did the memories of Agatha and Rio. Their love, fierce protectiveness, and the way they had made you feel seen—it all swirled in your mind, giving you the strength to stand tall.

"The proposal will proceed as planned," your grandfather declared, his voice final and unyielding. "You will marry into the royal family and not disgrace this household any further."

Your father stepped forward, his expression conflicted as he glanced between you and your grandfather. "Father," he began cautiously, "perhaps we should—"

"There will be no discussion!" your grandfather barked, his fist slamming onto the desk. "She is a daughter of this house and will do as she is told!"

The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of your grandfather’s authority stifling any further protests. Your mother’s gaze met yours, a mix of worry and resignation in her eyes. Your siblings looked on in stunned silence, their expressions ranging from anger to concern.

You lifted your chin, and the sting of your cheek was a constant reminder of the line you were walking. "I understand, Grandfather," you said quietly, your voice steady despite the storm raging inside you.

His eyes narrowed, his fury barely contained. "You will do as you are told," he repeated, his tone low and menacing. "Or you will face the consequences."

You held his gaze, refusing to back down, even as your heart pounded against your ribs. The room felt like closing in, but you stood your ground, knowing this was only the beginning of a new life.

As you left the study, your mind was already racing. The sting of his slap lingered, but so did the warmth of Agatha’s hand and the playful protectiveness in Rio’s voice. You did not know what you would do next, but one thing was clear—you couldn’t face this alone.

You needed them.

The heated sting on your cheek lingered as you sat in your room, lost in thought. The sound of the slap still echoed in your ears, the weight of your grandfather’s words pressing heavily on your chest. You barely noticed the door opening until your sister slipped inside, closing it quietly behind her.

She stood there for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then her gaze landed on your swollen cheek, and her frown deepened. Without a word, she crossed the room and knelt beside you.

"You shouldn’t have run away in the middle of speaking with Grandfather," she said softly, though her tone lacked any true reprimand. Her fingers brushed gently against your cheek, her touch cool against the warmth of the swelling. "I saw everything."

Your throat tightened. Of course, she had seen it.

"I could not just stay there and listen to his grand plan of marrying me off," you muttered, your voice trembling with frustration. "You know what he’s forcing me to do."

Her lips pressed into a thin line. "I do," she admitted. "And I hate it as much as you do. But running away like that only made things worse." She paused, her eyes searching yours. "You need to think carefully about what you’ll do next. Maybe…" She hesitated, then added, "Maybe run away for good?"

Your hands curled into fists as you looked away. "If I leave, he’ll just focus on you next," you said quietly, your voice thick with guilt. "He’ll push the same marriage talks onto you."

She blinked at you, startled before a hollow laugh escaped her lips. "That’s not your problem," she said firmly, her tone carrying an unexpected strength. "It’s not your job to protect me."

You turned back to her, shocked. "But—"

"No," she interrupted, shaking her head with conviction. "Listen to me." Her voice softened, but her words were no less firm. "You’ve always been the brave one, always trying to shield everyone else. Do you think I don’t know the things you endured from Grandfather to protect us? How much of his anger you absorbed so we could breathe a little easier? You’re the reason we’ve been carefree, the reason we’ve had any semblance of freedom from his suffocating demands. But this time…" She took a deep breath, her eyes locking with yours. "This time, you need to protect yourself. Not me. Not anyone else. Just you."

Her words cut through the haze of guilt and obligation clouding your mind, their weight undeniable. You opened your mouth to argue, but her unwavering gaze stopped you short.

"You’ve always been the brave one," she repeated softly. "But sometimes, being brave means choosing yourself. Not this family. Not Grandfather. Yourself."

Silence filled the room, heavy with unspoken truths. You clenched your fists tighter, your mind battling the instinct to stay and endure versus the undeniable pull to seek refuge and love with Agatha and Rio.

"He’ll be heading to the Capital tomorrow early in the morning," she added after a moment, her voice softer, like a breeze before a storm. "He’ll be busy all day with arrangements and demands, and probably won’t return until he finalises your marriage proposal. If you want to leave…" She paused, her gaze steady but heavy with unspoken urgency. "This is your chance."

Her words lingered in the air, a lifeline cast into turbulent waters. It was as if she were telling you that the tides had shifted, presenting you with a fleeting window of calm before the storm returned. Would you let it carry you to freedom, or stay anchored to a crumbling shore?

The idea was both terrifying and liberating. You wanted to see them again, to feel their warmth, their love—even though you had just left them an hour ago. The thought of returning to their realm, where the weight of your family’s expectations couldn’t reach you, made your chest ache.

You nodded slowly, your decision solidifying. Your sister’s lips curved into a faint smile, a glimmer of relief in her eyes.

"And who knows," she said, her voice suddenly teasing, "maybe I’ll run away too. After all, I love someone as well." She winked, though the sadness behind her words was unmistakable.

You stood, your resolve clear as you gathered what little you needed. Your sister watched you quietly, her smile fading into something softer, almost wistful. As you turned to leave, she reached out and squeezed your hand, her grip firm yet reassuring.

"Go," she said simply, her voice steady yet filled with unspoken emotion. "Be happy. For both of us."

You nodded, but as you reached the door, you hesitated. Turning back to face her, you spoke, your voice filled with determination. "I’ll make sure you’ll be safe, too," you said firmly. "I’ll ask them to help you."

Your sister’s brow furrowed slightly in confusion, her head tilting as though to ask who you meant. But she didn’t voice the question. Instead, she nodded slowly, trusting you even without understanding.

With a final glance, you left her standing in your room, her silhouette framed by the faint moonlight filtering through the window. You quickly wrapped a few belongings into a bundle.

The cool night air greeted you as you stepped outside, wrapping around you like a gentle embrace. The world felt quieter and calmer, like holding its breath for your next move.

Your feet instinctively carried you toward the hidden house, the realm that had become your sanctuary. Each step felt lighter, as though the burdens of your family’s expectations were falling away with every stride.

A fond memory surfaced as you thought about them—how they made you feel comfortable enough to let go of the constant pressure to speak and act properly in front of others.

The three of you lounged comfortably on the floor, surrounded by abundant soft cushions. The surreal glow of the realm bathed the room in a gentle light, casting long shadows that flickered with a soothing rhythm. You were nestled in the middle, flanked by Agatha on your left and Rio on your right.

Agatha sat upright against a large cushion as she flipped through a black leather-bound book. The glow illuminated her sharp profile, and the soft hum of her turning pages was the only sound for a while. Rio, on the other hand, was draped lazily across the cushions, her head flopped back in apparent boredom. One of her hands played idly with yours, tracing circles on your palm, her fingers warm and distracting. She grinned faintly, her dark eyes occasionally flicking up to meet yours.

The serenity of the moment gave you the courage to ask the question that had been haunting your mind. You tilted your head slightly toward Agatha, your voice quiet but steady. "Agatha," you began softly, "why did you admit to killing the shaman? You could have avoided the topic or stayed vague like the night before."

Agatha didn’t look up from her book immediately, her expression unreadable. When she finally did, her gaze was calm but piercing. "Could have," she murmured lightly. "But I didn’t."

"Why?" you pressed, the courage from the comfort of their presence pushing you forward.

Agatha closed the book with a soft thud, resting it on her lap. Her sharp blue eyes locked with yours, and a faint smirk tugged at her lips. "Because you confessed your love to us," she said simply, her tone lacking any of her usual teasing.

Rio perked up at that, her head snapping forward from where it had rested. Her grin widened mischievously. "Love moved her," she declared dramatically, earning a soft snort from Agatha.

"Shut up," Agatha muttered, though a small smile betrayed her amusement.

Rio wasn’t deterred. She rolled onto her side, propping herself up with an elbow as she leaned closer to you. Her free hand, still holding yours, gave a gentle squeeze. "But it’s true, isn’t it? Our dear purple witch has been changed by love," she teased, earning herself a swift swat on the leg from Agatha.

"Don’t make me regret this," Agatha said dryly, though the corner of her mouth twitched upward. She turned her focus back to you, her voice softening. "The truth, doll, is that your bravery moved me. You stood there, vulnerable and honest, and confessed something most people wouldn’t dare to say aloud. How could I repay that with half-truths or lies?"

Her words struck you deeply, leaving you momentarily breathless. You felt the warmth of Rio’s fingers tighten around yours, grounding you as you processed the weight of what Agatha had said.

"Oh, she’s smitten," Rio said with a laugh, her grin turning fond as she glanced between you and Agatha. "You’ve made her all soft, my lady."

"Rio," Agatha warned, though there was no real bite to her tone.

Rio grinned unapologetically and turned her attention back to you, her gaze shifting into something quieter, more sincere. "But isn’t that what you wanted, my lady?" she asked softly. "An equal relationship. No secrets, no lies. Just the truth, however messy it might be?"

Her words echoed in the air, and you realised she was right. That was what you wanted. Not just love but the trust and honesty that came with it—even if the truth was sometimes hard to bear.

You nodded slowly, your heart swelling with an odd mix of gratitude and affection. "Yes," you admitted, your voice soft but certain. "That is what I want."

Agatha’s sharp gaze softened, her lips curving into a small smile. She reached over, brushing lightly against your cheek before pulling back. "Then that’s what you’ll have," she said firmly, her voice carrying a quiet promise.

Rio’s grin widened as she shifted closer, her head resting lightly against your shoulder. "Welcome to the chaos, my lady," she said playfully, her tone light but her dark eyes warm. "I think you’ll fit right in."

The three of you sat there for a while longer, nestled together among the cushions, sharing a quiet moment of understanding. You didn’t have all the answers, but for now, you had something better—a connection you knew you could trust. And in the warmth of their presence, that was more than enough.

That memory stayed with you, wrapping around your heart like a protective shield as you took each step. You were not just running from something anymore—you were running to someone. Toward Agatha and Rio.

Toward your love.

---RAR---

Even in the dark, you knew the way to their house as though it had been etched into your memory. You didn’t stop to rest, your legs moving with purpose as you hurried along the familiar path. The cool night air brushed against your skin, but you hardly noticed. Your mind was focused entirely on reaching them—on finding comfort and safety in their presence.

When you reached the gate, you didn’t hesitate. You stepped through, the familiar warmth of their realm washing over you. The air was different here—softer, calmer, and yet it seemed to hum with energy.

The moment you crossed the gate, the door to their house opened as though they had been waiting for you. Agatha and Rio stepped out into the glow of the surreal realm, their eyes locking onto yours instantly.

Without a word, you dropped your bundle onto the ground and ran to them, your heart pounding in your chest. You threw your arms around both of them, holding them tightly as though they might vanish if you let go. Agatha’s arms wrapped firmly around your torso, her embrace grounding and secure. Rio’s embrace followed, encircling you both, her warmth seeping into your skin.

None of you spoke as you stayed in their arms, the world around you fading into nothingness. For a moment, there was only the three of you, connected by an unspoken bond that needed no explanation.

When you finally pulled back, their expressions shifted instantly. Agatha’s gaze swept over you, her sharp blue eyes narrowing as they landed on your swollen cheek. A flicker of icy coldness flashed through them, a dangerous edge to her usual composure. Rio’s reaction was even more primal—her jaw clenched, her dark eyes narrowing as her teeth bared in a snarl.

"Who," Rio growled, her voice low and venomous, "did this to you?"

Agatha’s hand reached up, her fingers brushing gently against your cheek. Despite the cold fury in her gaze, her touch was soft, almost reverent. "Tell us," she said, her voice deceptively calm. But the undercurrent of menace was unmistakable. "Who dared to harm you?"

You swallowed hard, caught off guard by the intensity of their reactions. "It’s not important," you said weakly, though even you knew the words would not placate them.

"Not important?" Rio hissed, her teeth gritted. "Your face is bruised, swollen, and you’re telling me it’s not important?" She took a step back, her hand reaching instinctively to her side, where you noticed her familiar dagger gleaming faintly in the ethereal light. Her eyes glinted dangerously, like a predator ready to strike. "Give me a name," she demanded.

"Rio," Agatha said sharply, her voice cutting through Rio’s anger like a blade. Yet her gaze remained fixed on you, her cold blue eyes softening just slightly. "Let her speak."

Rio’s jaw worked, but she relented, stepping aside with a frustrated huff. Agatha’s hand lingered against your cheek, her thumb brushing lightly over the tender skin as though trying to erase the mark entirely.

"Tell us, doll," Agatha coaxed, her voice quieter now but no less firm. "We can’t help you if you don’t let us."

Agatha’s gaze was unrelenting, her hand still gently brushing against your swollen cheek. "Who hurt you?" she asked again, her voice a blend of concern and barely restrained fury.

But you shook your head stubbornly, stepping back just enough to break her touch. "It doesn’t matter," you said firmly, your voice trembling only slightly. "Everything is fine as long as I’m here with you two. That’s all I need."

Rio’s eyes narrowed, the fire in them undimmed. "You can’t just brush this off," she said, her voice low and dangerous. "Someone hurt you—marked you—and you’re telling me it doesn’t matter? I swear, if you don’t tell us, I’ll—"

"You’ll do nothing," you interrupted, your voice gaining strength. You turned to face both of them, your jaw clenched. "Because I’m not telling you. What’s done is done. I’m here now, and that’s all that matters."

Rio’s expression hardened, her lips pressing into a thin line. "That’s not good enough," she growled. "You can’t expect me to sit here and—"

"Enough," Agatha said sharply, cutting her off. Her piercing blue eyes turned to Rio, her gaze surprisingly pleading. "She’s made her choice. Let it go."

Rio’s growled furiously, her body tense as though she were barely holding herself back. But after a long moment, she exhaled sharply and nodded, though the fire in her gaze didn’t entirely fade. "Fine," she muttered, crossing her arms. "But don’t expect me to forget."

Agatha turned back to you, her expression softening slightly. "Doll," she said quietly, "you don’t have to carry this alone. We’re here for you—always."

You nodded, the weight of their concern pressing heavily on your chest. "I know," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "That’s why I came back."

The room fell into a heavy silence, the tension lingering like an unspoken question. But as the minutes stretched on, the weight began to ease, replaced by a sense of quiet understanding.

Agatha reached out, her hand resting lightly on your arm. "Come," she said softly, her voice low and soothing. "You need to rest."

Before you could respond, Rio stepped forward, her dark eyes boring into yours. "But first," she murmured, her voice dipping into something softer, sweeter. "You need to know how much you mean to us."

Her words jolt through your chest, the air around you seeming still. Before you could process what she meant, Rio leaned in, her hand cupping your cheek with surprising gentleness. Her lips brushed against yours, the kiss soft yet electric, igniting a warmth that spread through your entire body.

Your breath hitched, your heart pounding as Rio pulled back slightly, her lips curving into a satisfied grin. "I’ve been waiting for that," she said, her voice low and husky, liking her lips.

Before you could respond, Agatha stepped closer, her sharp gaze locking onto yours. "Don’t forget about me, doll," she murmured, her voice rich with amusement. Her hand tilted your chin upward, and her lips captured yours in a deeper, more deliberate kiss, sending a shiver down your spine that differed from Rio's.

When Agatha finally pulled away, her smirk was wicked. "You're so beautiful," her thumb brushing lightly over your cheek. "I could get used to this."

Rio chuckled, stepping behind you to press her body lightly against yours. Her arms encircled your waist, her lips brushing against your ear as she murmured, "And you haven’t even seen the best of us yet, my lady."

The warmth of their combined presence, touches, and kisses sent your mind reeling. The pull you had felt toward them since the beginning now felt inevitable, undeniable love. And as they held you between them, their gazes filled with affection and desire, you couldn’t bring yourself to resist.

For the first time, you allowed yourself to give in—to the connection you shared, to the love you felt, and to the promises their touches held. And in their arms, you finally felt whole.

But the moment didn’t end there. Your breath quickened, each exhale unsteady as a new warmth began to coil within you. It was unfamiliar and consuming, and yet you welcomed it and yearned for more of it, for more of them. The sensation was almost overwhelming, but Agatha and Rio seemed to understand completely.

Agatha’s lips curved into a slow, predatory smile, her piercing eyes glinting with intent. Beside her, Rio’s dark gaze sparkled with mischief, her grin widening as though she were in on a secret you were only just beginning to uncover.

Agatha’s hand slid to your back, guiding you gently but firmly toward their large, inviting bedroom. The soft glow of their surreal realm filtered through the open windows, casting the room in a warm, almost magical light. The bed was massive, draped in luxurious fabrics that seemed to shimmer faintly as if touched by unseen starlight.

[astraearinehart]

──the smile hastened on her lips at the sight of her grandchildren —she may not be overly fond of the fact that they call her granny, making her feel ancient, but she is very enamored with the duo otherwise. perhaps, she is going to be a better grandma than she ever was a mother; many factors contribute to this, and the fact that she is in a better place, financially, for her also plays a huge part ( Stella has always been materialistic, selfish when it comes to her indulgence and luxuries she allows herself ). “oh, my darlings,” she cooed softly as she noticed them sniffling and sneezing, stroke Lilou’s hair and kissed Beau’s chubby cheek. she made to help Elizabeth lift Beau to the high chair if she allowed her, aware that her daughter shouldn’t really be lifting them given that she is well into the first trimester of her pregnancy, almost in the second now, if she wasn’t mistaken.

once the twins were settled, she sat back down and took a better look at her daughter. she could tell that she wasn’t in a good mood; perhaps, tired would cover it, even though she suspected there was more to it —Liz had defended her father fiercely to her the first time they met, every accusation she would bestow upon him, her daughter would find something to make an excuse for it or counter, so much she had given up talking about her husband, seeing as she wouldn’t sway the other’s opinion, so now she imagined the betrayal that came to light had left her heartbroken ( again, she was only drawing her own conclusions based on Liz’s reaction when she found out about it, too ).

“not yet,” she joked with a light laugh, even though she wasn’t entirely certain that her daughter would appreciate this humor. she had beat up Vivienne, again, but this time nobody else was there to call the cops, Claude had to save the other woman himself. she was about to speak when she noticed Liz’s nosebleed and she paused. “I can go order for us,” she offered, smiling a little reassuringly at Beau when he said 'momma' when he noticed her being unwell, reached out to caress his head. “and you can take a moment to rest,” the older blonde added after a moment. “what do you want to have?” there was a lot they had to talk about it, still, but first she wanted her to feel better before she would bring up her father’s appearance and every revelation that had come with him showing up, seemingly, out of the blue.

⸻ Despite the fiasco that turned out the Thanksgiving, Elizabeth decided to chat a little with the man who seemed more reasonable than her parents, her grandfather. At the least, the end of this day wasn't as bad as it became. She agreed to meet with him on the other's day without the twins so they could have a better relationship granddaughter-grandfather, because with the toddlers around, they were a certain distraction and they couldn't have a moment alone without any interruptions. ⎯ Liz wanted to move after how things ended on the holiday, in reality, she always wanted to move out to a new place and not live on a place her mother gifted her.

The problem is the blonde didn't have energy to even think of it, she felt so heartbroken for the man that never deserved her love, her father. The days was difficulty because she knew her toddlers were very attached to their grandfather, and he was as a matter of fact, better grandfather than he ever did to be his father. She couldn't face Claude, and they were neighbors. Every time the twins spend the time with their grandfather she requested for her closed bestie or Alex to meet with her father to hand him the twins.

She was in her bed, when she received a call from the daycare saying the twins were feeling unwell, and she went to pick them up early, in her black sweatpants, a black shirt of Alex, that was oversized on her, and black flip flop, and a baseball cap of NY. Her outfit hid very well the now bump that was starting to show off, but still was 'small'. She entered on the coffee, with both of the twins, carrying Lilou on her arms that were snuggled, and holding Beau's hand that was sneezing. Once she found her mother in her seat, she sat across from her, and greeted her briefly, putting Lilou on the children's chair, and Beau as well, but taking a napkin to clean his little hand and nose. The twins greeted with the very words ' granny!! ' .

Once she finished, organizing her twins, she finally looked at Stella, but she was unhappy by the look on her face. ❛ Tired. ❜ It wasn't a lie but also not all truth, just part of it. ❛ How are you? Any other night in the cells? ❜ She inquired, feeling now something warm on her nose. It was nosebleed. She muttered under her breath, taking another napkin to clean it.

[swordbisexual]

Oh! It’s Vissenta’s birthday today! I miss when I would go absolutely bugfuck nuts celebrating her birthday among my corner of tumblr so fuck it I’m bringing it back this year. Happy birthday to my favorite triple Scorpio bitch, forever 30 or 40 years old and God’s perfect idiot.

[nearsighted-calliope]

[stillsuperchillandmentallyill]

[malcfactorss]

"Well don't you get it, Ruby? I only take the things I really very much like. Otherwise they're not worth taking." Therefore the flattery was implied, but laying it on thick seemed to be the only way for her to know that she wasn't some servant he picked from the street no..she was far more than that. And in childbearing years no less. She was a curious little bird though, he half expected her to be the quiet type that just performed her duties and not much else. But her questions were admiteddly endearing. "No, no prisoners to speak of at this time." And they typically didn't have the need to take them. They settled things out in the open, then and there. No need for holding. It was to the death or to the trade more or less. Admittedly, he was quite comfortable in his quarters below the upper deck. But he had a newly touched by alcohol dame that certainly couldn't go unescorted. He grabs her hand to stand and pulls her close. Most of the men would be turning in but there were always a few running the ship. "Fine. But you stay close to me, you hear?" With that, he takes the lead and steps out of the doors onto the deck, the wind whipping fiercely in the night. Luckily the weather was rather temperate so she could appreciate the view of nothing but the sea for miles on each side.

Ruby parted her lips to say something but his words simply caught her off guard. "Do not flatter me when you have practically kidnapped me." But her small smile gave away the fact that she accepted the compliment anyways. It wasn't entirely his fault either. It was an agreement, set by her father of all people. Ruby did not yet see what good it did to her family, but perhaps she would find out later. "I don't think I'd feel safe there." She admitted. "Nor behind bars." Ruby added quickly. "Are there prisoners on the ship?" Maybe she was asking him too many questions, things she shouldn't be trying to get involved with, but she thought he at least owed her the truth of the place she was taken to. While sipping in silence, she decided to sit herself down as well. She was still getting used to the motions of the ship. Mix it with the alcohol she'd never tasted. "I can not really place where it's from, though. But it's different.' He was different. All she had seen was the good, gentle boys with their hair perfectly done, their faces trimmed. "I quite like it. It suits you, Captain." She said with a few nods. The girl's eyes started to look around her slowly, inspecting the place ever so carefully. For the very first time since she stepped foot on the ship, she embraced the silence between them. It made her realize that she probably won't return home anytime soon, or ever. Eyes glanced down at the glass she was holding before she emptied the second one and put it aside. Shake it off, Ruby. "Will you escort me outside? I would love to see what it looks like at night, the sea." The red head got up and offered a hand to the male in front of her. "I promise I won't try and swim back home."

[br-disaster]

My take on Baxia and Huaisang's unnamed saber, inspired by CQL's designs

[midnights-perch]

Smol queen.

This tiny little floof nugget just made the EXACT roar of a furious mountain lion, when the neighbourhood bully cat peeked through our window.

And I really do mean exact. This wasn't your usual, domestic cat scream 😅. How that huuuge noise come out of her tiny self? She doesn't even meow bless her, just squarks when she wants cuddles.

[ferahntics]

Ok now tumblr will cooperate, apparently it doesn’t like it when I don’t do Kirby stuff for a slight change of pace

[vilavi-2]

You may not be able to see @andthendk's gifs embedded in AO3 anymore, and thats because enough people loved and downloaded them that it broke my dropbox bandwidth limit for the day 😅

I was today years old when I learned that was a thing! They should be restored tomorrow, but to prevent a repeat issue I'm reposting everything here. You can download the gifs from this tumblr post (compressed to meet upload requirements here), but please don't nab them from AO3 - they are hosted there via an embedded link that counts each download against me. Thanks and sorry for the trouble! 💕

Sway

It was bad right from the beginning. The physical threat the Red Lanterns posed was one thing, the blinding rage that assaulted her mind was far worse. Raven concentrated fiercely to keep the brunt of it at bay, but each little bit that slipped through was like a needle in her psyche. Soon enough it was as though a swarm of hornets was assailing her, their sharp, relentless stings driving her closer and closer to the locked door where she kept her own anger.

It didn’t help how much Ysmault reminded her of Trigon’s realm. A red, rank, screaming world that seemed almost designed to regress her. The only living things here were her and her fellow heroes; their foes had no heartbeat and the landscape itself was made up of bones, blood, and burning rock. Over all of them was the Red Lantern’s power battery, bathing the scene in malignant light.

Raven couldn’t say when that door eventually cracked open, she only knew it had when she saw her clawed, red hand wrapped around a foe's throat, felt the heat of him in her grip, peered into the raw, animal madness in his eyes. She shouldn’t be this close, it wasn’t her style. Raven fought best from a distance, methodically and without any joy in the act. Now she was in the thick of it, reveling in the up close and personal degradation of her enemies. It was wrong, she knew it was wrong, and yet it felt so good . Truly, she had forgotten how good anger could feel. The Lantern in her grasp spewed more of his viscous, spoiled blood at her trying to win free of the iron grip on his throat. Raven tightened her hand instead, cutting off the stream and tossing him aside. Her enemies' corrosive, burning blood had no effect on her — she’d been bathed in hotter fires than they could ever match.

She and Damian sat there quietly, too exhausted to talk, too edgy to sleep. It’s done, it’s over, relax now , Raven kept telling herself. But the trials of their battle weren’t so easy to shake off. The unhinged fury of the Red Lanterns was like a needle in her mind, sharp and relentless. She’d been able to resist the worst of it, but enough had gotten through to her. The worst part was that everyone had seen. Everyone could still see. Raven did not wear fury well.

She shifted in the Javelin’s jumpseat, trying to get more comfortable. Instead the move just reminded her that she was covered in the viscous, spoiled blood Atrocitus’s minions spewed with abandon. The tacky, wet feeling of it repulsed her even as it compounded her shame and guilt.  

She tried again, futilely, to force the emotional echoes from the Red Lanterns from her mind, glad that she and Damian were alone in this part of the Javelin. The seats near the front were occupied by Titans and Leaguers alike, licking their wounds and trading happy banter about their victory over the Red Lanterns. Raven stole a glance at her teammate, guilt and distress prickling her heart at the injuries that dotted his skin. She had promised to heal him as soon as she was back in full control of herself, to which he’d shrugged and told her in his blunt, cocky way not to worry about it. His gaze hadn’t flickered when he saw her, nor when he’d met her golden eyes with his own. Even when they were kids Damian hadn’t ever seemed bothered when he saw her like this, for which she was endlessly grateful.

He slumped a bit in his seat, arms crossed and eyes closed, though she knew he wasn’t asleep. Raven decided to follow his lead and forced her body to relax, resting her head against his shoulder in hopes that some of his unshakeable composure could leach into her. They’d been here before and she knew he wouldn’t mind. Change back damn it, she thought tiredly. Damian shifted alongside her to settle them both more comfortable and she moved with him effortlessly, exhaustion and contentment finally starting to cool her blood.

Minutes must have passed, but it felt like she’d only just closed her eyes when a bright spike of emotion and noise opened them again. Supergirl and Shazam had taken seats opposite them, flamboyant in their giddiness. A quick look around showed the Javelin had filled up quite a bit since they first boarded and the whir of the engines told her they’d be taking off soon.

“You were amazing !” Billy was telling Kara, the raw admiration in his voice a dead giveaway for his real age. “Atrocitus totally didn’t see it coming! I bet he thought it was Superman that hit him!”

“It was just a lucky shot,” Supergirl said, but she was beaming from the praise. Raven couldn’t help her tired stare, something twisting in her belly when she saw how immaculate the other heroine was. Not a spec of rancid blood, not a tear on her clothes, not a hair out of place. Raven admired her, envied her, maybe hated her. Don’t be stupid. We’d still be out there dealing with rage zombies if not for Kara . She was more spent than she realized, if she wasn’t able to keep those small, petty emotions at bay.

“Don’t even,” Billy went on, goodnaturedly. “You oughta let loose more often. Don’t let your cousin soak up all the attention.”

“Maybe I will,” she grinned back, her aura bright with satisfaction. Only then did Kara seem to take notice of her and Damian sitting across the ship’s aisle. Her smile slowly tapered off, and careful (forced) nonchalance overtook her expression. Billy followed her eyes and quickly adopted the same look. As their twin gazes crawled over her, Raven felt a sinking feeling. She knew what they were seeing. 

Scarlet skin, black horns and claws, four feline yellow eyes. Not to mention the splatters of rank blood that decorated her body. Letting loose doesn’t look quite as good on me as it does her.  

Something unfamiliar stirred in her — shame? vanity? insecurity? she couldn't decide — and she dropped her eyes, reaching up to draw her hood over her head. The least she could do was hide her horns…

Damian caught her wrist in a firm grip and tugged her hand back down into her lap, thwarting her. She looked over in confusion and saw he was alert now, staring unflinchingly back at the two other heroes. His expression was neutral, but there was a clear challenge in the set of his jaw and the steely look his eyes. It was a look that both heroes and villains were known to quail from, and this time was no different.

Shazam was the first to break, ducking his head and muttering out a half-hearted pardon before hurrying to find another seat on the Javelin. Kara was soon to follow, albeit with a bit more grace and an uncertain smile for Raven. The empath felt a touch of guilt for her earlier, uncharitable feelings towards the heroine. It wasn't Kara's fault she was such a mess.

Damian’s unflinching stare followed them up the aisle before he finally turned his eyes to her, the fingers on her wrist sliding to coil with her own. He said nothing for a few seconds, just studied her from behind his mangled domino mask. Raven looked back at him wearily, feeling slightly bitter at his intervention and wishing he would have just let her hide. His expression softened and Raven blinked in surprise when she felt his thumb brush lightly against the skin beneath her second set of eyes before migrating north and tracing one of her ebon horns.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of," he declared, finality in every syllable.

A profound affection swept through her, heating her blood in a different way than before and making her heart beat too fast. The feeling belonged to both of them, Raven realized, and was more than enough to sweep away the last few drops of rage poisoning her psyche. Her vision blurred for a quick second as four eyes became two. Damian dropped his hand, skimming her hair lightly as he did, and settled back against his seat. He kept his eyes on her and Raven felt the unmistakable pride in his gaze. She laid her head on his shoulder again; partly to hide from the power of his regard and partly because of an uncontrollable need for closeness.

He reciprocated, resting his cheek against the crown of her head and exhaling deeply. The sense that she was soiled or shameful, which had dogged her since the battle, was gone now, replaced with the  inexplicable feeling that she was pristine.

“But he who dares not grasp the thorn

Should never crave the rose.”

― Anne Bronte 

DamiRae Week 2024 - Day 3 / Al Khala

Sway

Sometimes, when you and I collide

I fall into an ocean of you

Pull me out in time

damiraeweek2024 contribution from me and @andthendk! Enjoy!