#because for every day it feel like the world's ending there are a dozen more where the sun shines just the right way through the rain

[asarigg]

Inside the Character's Mind: Part 1

mentions of physical, psychological and sexual abuse towards both Koujaku and his mother

SELF DESTRUCTIVE BEHAVIOR

Let’s go back to the beginning. Or rather, what Koujaku tells us. He also talks about himself, of course, but usually when he talks about his past, most of the time he talks about his mother: because that’s what hurts him the most. He barely mentions the abuse towards him other than the tattoo and that one time his father punched him. But he always talks about all the hardships that his family put his mother through. And I’m sure you’ll agree with me that it is hard to believe that was it.

Koujaku’s father has proven to be an extremely violent piece of shit and a zero-empathetic person. I don’t doubt that Koujaku’s mother, because of her nature, was his favorite toy. What’s more, he did every cruel thing he could think of to her, his wife too, she had fresh wounds every day and she couldn’t even eat, and although it isn’t said nor implied I wouldn’t be surprised if Koujaku was a product of rape. I mean… most likely. We hardly know anything about his mother, not her appearance, not her name, not what she liked, not how the hell she ended up in that place, if there was any love involved in it or if it was something about debt, we only know that she was the perfect victim.

She was always saying sorry to her son, for everything Koujaku’s been witnessing, she feels guilty and responsible because he tries to stand up for her, and because she has brought him to a world where the one that decides for them is a criminal. She keeps a deep pain inside for everything that’s happening and she tries to hide it, especially from Koujaku, and seeing her son suffer doesn’t help. Smiling to him so he doesn’t worry, and saying sorry to try to comfort him. That’s why the last thing she repeats over and over to her son when she’s lethally wounded is “I’m sorry”, feeling sorry that it’s because of her that he has lived like this, because she wasn’t able to protect him, to give him a proper life.

Obviously all his father did was also psychological abuse towards Koujaku, even blackmailing him with hurting his mother. But I sincerely believe that his father would use physical abuse to teach the boy a lesson, nothing could stop him anyway, because Koujaku as a child complained and rebelled, he didn’t care if his father hit him, he would defend his mother regardless. This is why I sometimes give Koujaku more scars to his body, and besides defensive cuts I also give him cigarette burn marks. Lore expansion better known as adding trauma.

I think he just doesn’t talk about it that much because the abuse towards him isn’t what has hurt him the most. We ourselves often don’t give it much importance if someone tries to insult us, but maybe if it’s someone close to us, that does piss us off, some logic like that. Moreover, throughout the game Koujaku’s personality is just like that, always worrying about others and giving little importance to himself, to the point of being tremendously negative for himself.

Don’t you think those scars would make him look more masculine, intimidating, as if he’s survived dozens of dangerous, tough fights? It seems the perfect image for an environment like organized crime.

Despite all of Koujaku’s feminine traits, the perception of him both in canon and in fandom (usually) is that of a stereotypically masculine, super straight man who fucks a different woman every night, always joking with “no homo, bro” (which, mind you, I’m not saying I don’t like these jokes, I make them myself too). But in reality that couldn't be further from the truth.

With that image that we have of him, sometimes it would seem that he is someone with prejudices or that he really had a hard time accepting that he’s not straight, specially when in the scene where he confesses to Aoba he says the following:

The reasons he tries to hide his feelings is a mix between the fact that they are friends and he doesn’t want to ruin the friendship they already have, that he wants to hide his past and that he doesn’t want to be a burden on Aoba, so he keeps all those things to himself. (And he’s also been educated a certain way and has always seen things one way, never gave it much thought so when it crosses his mind, of course he’s confused)

When he first met Aoba he thought he was a girl because he had really long hair, and after all, when we’re kids we don’t have very developed features anyway, it’s a pretty androgynous state. When Aoba corrects him and tells him he’s a boy his behavior is exactly the same, nothing changes. He corrects himself and never treats him as a girl.

He is someone who has no problem showing his affection for Aoba, neither in private nor in public, he’s very comfortable with his bisexuality, the only one who is reluctant to do so, either out of shame or fear, is Aoba.

What I’m trying to get at with all this is that all that “gentleman” facade and the “always accepting women who want to have something with him” that makes him look so stereotypical in a first impression has a much darker origin, although underneath all that there’s a much more sentimental, vulnerable and open Koujaku about his true feelings, expressing them even if he feels embarrassed, as we see on some occasions (touching his hair nervously when he confesses, of when he explains why Aoba's hair is so important to him).

The relationship he has with his mother is the most direct connection, or course. Being the son of an abused woman has made him hyper-aware of his position as a man (so much that sexism in this game almost goes full circle like the Bourbon family tree, but this is NC’s problem and it happens everywhere, it’s so obvious it’s a writers problem and it’s a shame it affects Koujaku so much because he’s basically the only one who isn’t scared of a bad bitch). We’ll talk about this in particular some more later, but let’s focus on what concerns his father for now.

Being the family of criminals that they are, abusers and… almost slavers, the most logical thing to assume is that they are specially conservative. It could very well be that his father, once he decided to make him his heir, wanted the image of his kid to be as intimidating and masculine as possible. A criminal, a murderer who could run his business in a world like this.

We know that the tattoo is an experiment by Toue, and it wouldn’t be strange if his father knew what was behind it, because after all it would also be beneficial for him to have a way to control him, to mold him to his liking and to make him obedient, unlike he had been behaving, refusing to be his heir and trying to defend his mother. The image of an effeminate, soft, sissy man was not exactly ideal for the future leader. For me, Koujaku’s father either already intended to name him heir before agreeing to the tattoo being an experiment with Toue and Ryuuhou, or he ended up deciding to name him the heir precisely because they had already talked about the tattoo and its possibilities beforehand.

His father would want to break him, drive him to despair so that he would stop resisting, take away his will and, although this is mostly headcanon, “make him a man”. Be a man, be strong, tenacious, learn to fight and find a woman to continue the family with, etc. So it is not surprising that at first he didn’t even reconsider his sexuality and thought that the affection he had for Aoba was just friendship, which over time, with such strong feelings, he realized was not the case. I sincerely love that he is shown to be so nervous and that he confesses to be kinda confused about it and in a state of denial, without having any external reference and too busy hating his father and Ryuuhou to even think about it, it’s normal that it took him so long.

He was trained to be a gangster, while his father insulted him, hit him and threatened him using his mother, on whom he took it out. This training also implies not only fighting but also for doing business, how to talk to be well-received, how to negotiate, how to give the best impression of himself at any given situation. This pack of skills seem to resonate with those that he uses to flirt and run his own business, even if he does it on an unconscious level, he just knows what to say to strike the person he’s talking to in their weak spots. His father’s physical treatment would not only be a punishment, but also to teach him a lesson, to learn to endure the pain, just like he endured the pain of the tattoo. If he cried, it would be shameful, he would be punished. He had to hide his pain, his feelings, his thoughts, for the sake of his mother’s safety and his own. Practically becoming a puppet, thus evolving into the life he carries in Midorijima as an adult.

Him not wanting to open up to Aoba wouldn’t be just an “oh he’s going to hate me”. It’s also what he learned would be the best, having a charismatic appearance that everyone likes. After all wouldn’t it be logical to not want any confrontation with anyone after all that? A tough guy, with people around him who admire him, who never gets tired or cries, because nothing’s wrong. In a way it’s also a shield, a protection, a defense mechanism. To be a man.

Now, the way he behaves that almost everyone without exception associates with his mother. And this, for sure, is the intention, his desire to protect his mother and therefore take care of the women he meets. But it’s also him actively wanting to be the opposite of his father.

What kind of relationship does he have with women? The contact he has with them is mostly through all his female fans, who are crazy to say the least. We’re not going to get much into the subject of sexism but first of all it’s a huge mistake that his fans are only young women or the way they make them all act.

Koujaku spends all his time building a character that he considers perfect, someone gentle, who never says no to a woman and is always available to entertain them, it would never occur to him to deny anything to any of them, as his mother was denied so many things. Unlike that hard and tenacious masculinity that he was taught to have in order to take on his role as the heir or the bestiality of his tattoo, he presents a gentle and chivalrous masculinity on the outside. What he does is pamper them and give them everything they ask for (almost, because has never really had serious relationships. Which makes sense because he would be telling them pretty big lies, right? That wouldn’t fit with his own code). He doesn’t think very highly of himself, he has a low self-esteem as he thinks of himself as nothing better than a worthless monster that should have probably died a long time ago.

Sometimes people who are abused go through abuse again, in a cycle. I think saying that Koujaku is a playboy is incorrect. (He acts flirty and likes playing around, sure, but there’s something deeper). That perception of him is natural, of course, because the way he behaves and how he is presented to you, it is the image they want to give of him after all, in a basic and cliche way, so artificial that it is unsettling. I could believe that it sounds artificial on purpose, referring to that shell of how a confident and strong man should talk, if it weren’t for the fact that they do this kind of cliche and artificial situations quite often with other characters as well, and it makes it kinda hard to remain immersed. I honestly think that the foreshadowing could have been done a little better, but it still serves the narrative. Also this is practically almost all you see of his character the two first interactions he has with Aoba. Considering the structure of the game and how rushed everything is, it’s not very positive, but for the sake of your mental health it's better not to think too much about it.

In short, Koujaku is a very accommodating and attentive person. He listens and encourages others with their problems but doesn’t let anyone worry about him with his own, taking on everything himself. He even ironically tells Aoba that if he’s worried about what happened with Mizuki, he can blame him, and that he can always count on him to tell him anything. It’s a very lonely way to live, even though he has so many people around him.

Knowing this, it’s more than reasonable to think that more than him flirting with women, it’s simply him agreeing to give what those women ask of him. They come looking for something and he gives it to them. He’s a toy. It’s often joked that he’s practically a prostitute, and pretty much that’s what it is. And it’s in the balcony scene where we see a more personal side of him, where we can observe that in reality all this burden tires him, it’s not natural. It’s not like his character isn’t extroverted and charismatic, but that’s not everything, and in public he doesn’t allow himself to be “less”, so in private and in confidence is when he can afford to relax, with Aoba or in his own house.

Somehow, even though he is no longer with his family, the way he interacts with other people, or how he lets himself be used, be it consciously or not, even if there is a different intention behind, is not that different from before, people still use him.

ERHM... SOMETHING

I’ve sometimes wondered if there was some sort of sexual abuse on Ryuuhou’s part towards Koujaku. Nothing is implied canonically, at least physically, but the erotic connotations of the story of the tattoo artist he’s based on, the sadism, and his constant references to love make me think of it happening on a symbolic level.

I think it’s obvious that Ryuuhou loves Koujaku, in his own way, as his creation, and he’s referencing love at first sight and Koujaku’s abuse of Aoba. In a metaphorical way that abuse certainly happened, ever since he was tattooed, his body did not belong to him anymore. There are people who can’t stand the idea of having sex, and others who often seek it out to ease the pain. Ryuuhou made sure to mark his body and mind so that he could never forget him. His tattoos are his shame, his filth and sin. When Aoba touches his tattoos Koujaku practically jumps at contact.

[pyrriax]

ANYWHO goodnight tumblr i'll be back on the art grind tomorrow i think 🙏

[mirandasidefics]

Autumn Leaves

(Late Submission for @erisweekofficial Prompt: Bonds/Bargains 👑)

Pairing(s): Eris x Archeron Sister! Reader  

Summary: Eris never anticipated to find his Mate in a former human. 

Word Count: 3.1K

Warning(s): Mention of traumatic childbirth, mentions of Beron (he’s a trigger all on his own these days). 

Author’s Note: BASED ON THIS REQUEST. I felt that this scenario fit perfectly with the prompt of Bonds/Bargains for Eris Week. I hope that this fits well with what you had wanted anon! I know the request specifically asked for Reader to be the youngest, but I felt that it would be a bit more inclusive to leave the birth order more ambiguous for those that maybe don’t relate to being the youngest sibling. My brain wasn’t functioning enough to allow me to write an understandable dance scene, so…sorry that it's not as descriptive as I would have preferred. I also didn’t go back to review any of the events that occurred in ACOWAR or ACOSF, so if it’s not exactly canon compliant just ignore that. Also, Lucien was at the Hewn City solstice ball for this because I said so. 

Special thanks to @hardcoremarvelfan for beta reading and coming up with the title for this. Also, there will very likely be a part 2.

dividers by @/tsunami-of-tears ACOTAR Masterlist

The first time Eris saw the Made female he was immediately intrigued. She was quiet and stoic, much like the two sisters she accompanied for the High Lord’s meeting. Her eyes, the same shade as her sisters, appeared cold as she took in the room. It was clear she was observing more than she let on, gaze trained forward yet keenly aware of every single one of the High Lords and their various entourages. It was apparent to Eris that she saw more than her sisters, perhaps even more than his brother’s mate who was rumored to have been gifted the powers of a Seer by the Cauldron. He could feel the power that radiated off this fourth sister and couldn’t help but wonder what gifts she may have been granted. 

The second time he saw her was at the end of the battle with Hybern on the edge of the Spring and Summer Court border. Her eyes appeared distant as if she was separated from her body and the gore that surrounded her. But his answer regarding her gift had been answered as a circle of ice forged spears surrounded her. At least a dozen bodies were skewered while she stood stock still in the center of the circle. He had been compelled to approach her, but his brother got to her first, asking if she was okay and if she had seen his mate. After a single nod and a pointed finger towards a series of tents Lucien gently guided her away from the carnage she wrought. 

The third time he saw her was at the solstice ball in the Hewn City over a year later. Dressed in a drab black gown clearly intended to prevent her from sticking out. However, it wouldn’t have mattered if she was dressed down or in the most lavish of gowns. Eris’ eyes were instantly drawn to her as soon as she processed along with the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court. His youngest brother was by her side as an escort. As she approached the dias with her family, her eyes found his own, and Eris felt the world tilt on its axis. It took all of his mental will power to remain upright at the realization of what she was to him. Mate. 

Eris couldn’t remove his eyes from the female as Rhysand made his speech. Nor could he remove them when the music started and various Fae in attendance began to dance. He followed every one of her steps as she was escorted towards the dance floor, a beautiful smile spread wide across plush pink lips. He was vaguely aware of Rhysand's approach, his introduction to the High Lady’s sister. The only one that was dressed to be admired by the eyes of others. Nesta, he believed it was. But Eris wasn’t interested in the female that stood before him. He held up a hand, instantly silencing the High Lord, and simply pointed to the sister on the dance floor. 

“What is her name?” He asked, the light russet gaze never faltering. Eris could feel the tension in Nesta’s shoulders as she followed his gesture. Rhysand, always one to never give away his thoughts, supplied her name. Eris repeated it, the name tasting like honeyed wine in his mouth. Nesta attempted to redirect the conversation and offered Eris a dance, but the Autumn Heir ignored her. 

“Any bargains that you wish to make will be offered by her,” Eris’ voice was smooth as his eyes finally met purple. “Shall I introduce myself or will you make the introduction for me?” Rhysand turned his head towards the direction where Lucien spun her around as the two waltzed. His youngest brother’s head whipped in their direction, before he halted his dance and brought her over for a formal introduction. As expected, the female politely accepted Eris’ invitation for a dance. 

That first dance was all it took for Eris to know he didn’t want to be separated from her moving forward. Her demeanor was so different from what he had observed when he was only able to watch her from afar. He danced with only her for the remainder of the celebration and found himself completely enraptured by her. While he could tell that she wasn’t as strong a dancer as her sister, whom he caught out of the corner of his eye, it didn’t deter his conviction of only wanting to be by her side. Conversation flowed freely and easily as they danced. She was sharp witted, with a penchant for dry sarcasm. Her wry smile and her laugh ignited something deep within. 

Eris always had a drive to protect those he cared for, such as his Mother and Lucien, but the desire to keep her safe was stronger than anything he had experienced before. He couldn’t leave her in the Night Court, even if most of her time was spent in a city far safer than the one in which they danced. However, she couldn’t exactly join him in the Autumn lest he run the risk of her becoming one of Beron’s targets to keep Eris in line. For the first time in decades, Eris didn’t know what to do. 

“Is everything alright my Lord?” Her voice was filled with nothing but genuine gentle concern. His eyes refocused from their far away haze, taking in her sharp features. Features that were so indicative of the High Fae. Looking at her one would never guess that she used to be human. 

“Eris,” He corrected. “Please.” 

“Is everything alright, Eris?” Her cheeks flushed with the slightest tinge of pink. His own heart stirred at her reaction to the use of his name. Their dance had come to a halt, and he hadn’t even realized the musicians were taking a break. 

“Yes,” He cleared his throat. “Just a bit lost in thought.” She nodded her head, taking a slight step back from his hold on her waist. Eris had to refrain from the desire to pull her back towards his chest. 

“I’ve enjoyed our time together,” She took a look towards her sisters. All three were huddled against the edge of the dance floor. Nesta and Feyre’s sharp steel gazes attempted to pierce through the mask that Eris held in place. While the other, whose name he had sadly forgotten, had a glazed over look. Upon focusing, he noticed that the brown was nearly obscured by milky white. He heard the female in front of him gasp, her eyes trained on the Seer. Her head whipped back towards him, giving a slight nod.  

“I hope that we are able to count on your discretion about the Trove,” Her speech was rushed and she gathered the bottom of her skirts. “I’m certain that the High Lord will provide support to any claim you have to being the Heir.” With a quick second bow in parting she turned to rush over to her sisters. 

Before she got too far, Eris grasped her elbow and asked, “Would you come visit me? In Autumn?” She blinked at him. Almost as if she was surprised by his desire to see her again. 

“I must get to my sister,” She glanced back across the hall, at the High Lady trying to gain the attention of the Seer who was clearly lost in a vision. 

“I understand,” He released his grip and nodded solemnly. “I will write to you.” She blinked again. What he wouldn’t give to know what that beautiful mind was processing. She gave him a curt nod, before she quickly made her way across the hall. 

Eris couldn’t even last a week before sending his first letter. Again he asked if she would be interested in visiting his home court. She provided no answer or any acknowledgement of his question. Of course this didn’t deter Eris as they continued to exchange letters. With each one he would make his offer, enticing her with descriptions of celebrations and various traditions. He would tell her about his Hounds and his Mother. Yet she continued to not provide an answer to his offer. This same pattern went on for three months before Eris had enough of the tip-toeing around the subject. He was determined to get an answer, even if it was “No”. 

Eris arrived at what he assumed was Rhysand’s townhouse as the High Lord had instructed in his brief correspondence with the Autumn Heir.  He tapped the back of his knuckles on the large oak door. A few brief moments drifted by with no response. No movement could be heard from inside either. He peered his head towards the large bay window at the front, but the curtains were drawn shut. 

His heartbeat began to quicken with each passing moment as there continued to be no response. Eris was wholly unfamiliar with the city. He had no clue where to even begin looking for his mate. He was under the impression that he was at least expected by Rhysand. So why was no one here? 

Eris turned, prepared to winnow to the Hewn City in the hopes that Keir may have knowledge of where the High Lord could be, despite how unlikely that prospect was. Instead, he came face to face with an ethereal looking female. Skin and hair dark as shadows. A billowy white dress hugged her frame, yet appeared as if it was floating in a barrier of invisible water. It took him a minute to recognize her as one of Rhysand’s half wraith servants from Under the Mountain. 

“They are all at the High Lord and Lady’s home,” The female began to explain without preamble. “If you would follow me.” She turned, not bothering to ensure that the Autumn Lord followed. When the pair approached the near ostentatiously large home near the riverfront, screams could be heard from inside. If his heart hadn’t already been on the verge of an attack it surely was now. The half-wraith opened the front entrance, beckoning Eris to follow. 

No sooner as he stepped inside did his mate come surrying down the main staircase of the foyer. A pile of blood stained sheets spilling over her arms. Her eyes were rimmed in scarlet. Stepping onto the bottom landing she finally looked up, taking notice of the male. 

“Eris,” Her voice was no more than a whisper. Her lower lip wobbled, teeth sinking into it to prevent the tremble. Eris didn’t bother with formality, taking quick strides to meet her. As he reached her side, she dropped the pile of fabric and allowed her arms to encircle his waist. Her body shook with her sobs as her finger dug into his shoulders. 

“Feyre went into labor unexpectedly,” She cried into the elaborate brocade of his tunic. “The babe…his wings…” She couldn’t get her thoughts out in a coherent manner without the sobs overtaking her completely. “ They’re dying, Eris.” She wailed upon hearing her own words spoken aloud. He pulled her in tighter to his chest, his other hand gently rubbing in soothing circles along her shoulders. Eris had no words that could provide her with any sort of comfort, making him feel as if he was already failing her as her Mate. All the male could do was hold her and hope that she didn’t feel as alone in her grief if the High Lady of the Night Court somehow didn’t survive.  

Suddenly, Elain called out to her sister from the top of the staircase, “Come quick! Nesta she…” The warm brown eyes of the middle sister swam with unshed tears, a smile graced her features as well. Eris’ shoulders relaxed as the female's expression could only be an indication of good news. His mate quickly detached herself from his hold, racing back towards where the family convened. 

As soon as the two were out of sight, Eris looked around the foyer. He quickly found a small bench and sat down. He had never felt more awkward in his life. While he had developed a correspondence with this particular sister, he wasn’t exactly part of the family just yet. 

Eris sat in the hall, waiting for what felt like hours for his mate to return. Once she did, she escorted him into a large sitting room. 

“They’re going to live,” She smiled, sitting down in a chair across from him. She smoothed out her skirt, tucking in a corner that had somehow ended up with blood spatter staining the material. Eris merely hummed in acknowledgment. He didn’t know what to do with himself now that they had a moment alone like this. He had planned this elaborate greeting and proposal for her to come and visit, not giving her the room to ignore the request. However, that all went right out the proverbial window. His hands straightened the fabric of his shirt, then went to remove a non-existent strand of hair from his trousers, before finally resting on his lap. 

“You’re fidgeting,” She pointed out. Her smile grew as she suppressed a giggle. He was happy to see that her mood had lifted so quickly. It made the reason for his visit appear less strange, inappropriate even given the intensity of the events that occurred. She gently placed one of her hands over his. Her delicate fingers soothing and calming the rolling fire that he didn’t even notice had built up within himself. He allowed himself to grasp her hand in return, interlacing their digits. The sensation of fire against ice erupted throughout his being. Opposite yet still a perfect complement of powers. Eris couldn’t help but wonder what they would be able to achieve together. 

“Eris,” Her voice pulled him from his thoughts, his deep hues meeting her own cool gaze. “I’m happy to see you, but what are you doing here?” He swallowed, suddenly realizing that his actions were a bit sudden and perhaps not as well thought out as he intended. His arrival without notice to her would be unexpected. He only informed Rhysand that he needed to speak to Archeron female, but never explained why. 

“I,” He began, voice cracking. His pale features flushed and he was reminded of his younger days when his voice hovered between childhood and deeper timber of maturity. The female before him suppressed another giggle behind her unclasped hand. 

“I’m here because you consistently ignore a very specific question,” His gaze was steady, exuding what he hoped would be seen as confidence and not the uncertainty he felt. “I’ve come to ask one final time. If you say no, I will not burden you with asking ever again.” 

“Eris,” She pulled her hand away, eyes now unable to meet his own. 

“I acknowledge that Autumn is not always considered the most beautiful, what with the decay that can accompany the season in the mortal lands, so if you don’t like it-”

“Why would I not like the place where my mate lives?” Her perfect brows furrowed as she looked at him. Eris was at a loss for words. 

“When…” He couldn’t finish the sentence. However, it appeared that he didn’t need to as her response was a perfect correlation to what was on his mind.  

“Since the Winter Solstice,” She said. “When you first asked me to come visit.” It was Eris’ turn to blink in stunned silence. She had given no indication of being aware of who he was to her. Then again, he also hadn’t explicitly made their bond known. Perhaps he was wrong in thinking that his actions were obvious. 

“It’s not that I’m afraid that I won’t like it there,” She went on. “I’m actually afraid that I would not want to leave. But I simply can’t abandon my sisters.” She lowered her head, averting her gaze from the embarrassment. However, Eris understood the desire to be with her siblings. The same desire to ensure the well-being and safety of his younger brothers was one of his reasons for not abandoning the Autumn court. For enduring the cruelty of his Father for nearly 5 centuries. 

“I would never ask that you do,” He assured. “In fact, I wouldn’t want you to call the Autumn Court home just yet anyway. Not while my father still breathes.”

“I’m not afraid-”

“I am,” Eris admitted quietly. “I can’t risk anything happening to you.” He meant it, and was surprised at how easily the truth slipped from him. But it was just the two of them at this moment. He didn’t have to hide behind that mask when with her. He tucked a strand of (h/c) hair behind the perfectly pointed arch of her ear. He watched a shiver run through her as his flesh met hers. 

“There are some places where I can keep you safe,” He explained, all of his thoughts spewing forth as his mind raced to prove that he could keep her safe enough for short visits. “Places where my Father doesn’t have the loyalty of the subjects, but they are loyal to me. I have a cabin, just along the borders of Summer and Winter. Close enough for you to run across either should the need arise. I’d prefer Summer, there is a temple not far from the border where you could claim sanctuary until Rhysand or one of the brutes could get you.”

“Eris…” 

“Please,” He implored. “I do not wish to scare you away or force you to come. But I cannot stay separated from you much longer. My brother is the one with the endless amounts of patients when it truly matters.”  She laughed, the melodic and soft sound made him feel light. 

“How often can we meet?” She inquired. Her bright blue eyes lit with anticipation of when they could have their time. 

“I can secure a few days away every month,” He explained, almost more to himself than her as he considered the variety of excuses he would need to utilize. “Maybe up to a week at most. The time of month would need to vary as well. Any semblance of a pattern would tip my Father off. He’s just paranoid enough to assume that I’d be planning some type of conspiracy against him.” Of course, his Father’s fears were not without reason. Eris was indeed planning to usurp the High Lord. Someday. 

“Alright then,” She beamed. “I will come and visit. Every month so long as it is safe and as long as I am able to return to my sisters.” Eris felt the corners of his mouth lift up, and soon she mirrored the expression. His heart flipped, and he had to clear his throat to regain control of his senses. 

“Then I shall send word when everything is ready.” He stood, preparing to leave when she clasped his hand again. 

“Stay for a while Eris,” Her voice was soothing, making it feel like she wasn’t giving him a command. Even if she had, he would have gladly done anything she bid of him. He knew in that instant he would do anything for her. 

General Tag list: @loving-and-dreaming @samslulumelon

[holysupesbatman]

SuperBat Fic Recs

Woaaaah boy. I was in the Superbat tag and saw someone asking for recs and I got about 5 fics in before I realized that wouldn't fit in a reply and decided I should just make a whole post. I feel like I've read half of the Bruce/Clark tag on ao3 at this point and yet I still find more every time I look.

As a note, this post is heavily editorialized. These are all fics I've personally read and are here because I liked them and they come from my ao3 bookmarks. If you want better details about the fic, follow the links and check them out 🤷‍♀️ I'm a picky reader so the fact that it's on the list says a lot, though our tastes may vary.

Onto the recs! I'll organize them by ratings and then by length for simplicity and at the end I'll recommend some of my favorite SuperBat authors for further reading!

🦇

Rated: G

Uno Reverse by WixenBurr (~7k rated G) is really cute and fluffy

Summary: The batkids are trying to set Batman and Superman up. Unfortunately Bruce Wayne wants to date some rando news reporter named Clark Kent.

Rated: T

Know You Better by rotasha (~6k rated T)

super fluffy and cute. I adore this fic. Summary: Clark asks Bruce on a date, not knowing he’s a famous billionaire. Bruce says yes, because this is the first time this has ever happened to him.

I'm Not As Think As You Drunk I Am by Mardiaz173 (~13k rated T)

This one is SO much fun – Nobody believes Clark after he meets the supposed "flirty, stupid, entitled drunk" playboy billionaire Brucie Wayne when he says he's actually "clever, mischievous, and sober with an indecipherable ulterior motive."

Saudade by liodain (~20k rated T)

OK THIS ONE MAKES MY HEART MELT IT'S SO FLUFFY AND SWEET I CAN'T. Like put this on your re-read when you're sad and need to feel like love and goodness exist list. Bruce breaks down in Kansas in 2006 years before BvS and meets young Clark.

fallin' for him was like fallin' from grace by Resacon1990 (~23k rated T)

It's just 20k of Clark simping for Bruce. That's it. That's the fic. He's a golden retriever and he's in love, Your Honor. Bruce is not unaffected, but the pining is glorious.

summary: Or, five times Clark finds himself falling for Bruce, and the one time he does something about it

Mr. Romantic by Pandamomochan (~24k rated T)

ft Established Relationship SuperBat. Summary: Clark gets tasked to write a Valentine's Day article. The end result has every single women throwing themselves at him. Clark has always been patient with the drove of Brucie fans. Will Bruce be as mature with Clark's sudden popularity?

How to Date a Superhero by @solomonara (~25k rated T)

Technically a series of fics. Pure fluff. 1. Someone spots the Batman kissing Mild Mannered Reporter Clark Kent. Hijinks ensue. 2. Superman kissed Bruce Wayne in full view of several dozen phones. Now the whole world, including Lex Luthor, knows Superman has a boyfriend. But that's okay. Batman has a plan. 3. Deleted scenes from the How to Date a Superhero series, ruthlessly cut in most cases to prevent the Robins from taking over.

In every sense of the word by froggy-o (bobafiend) (~29k rated T) From the author's summary: Alternatively titled "Why Wonder Woman is on the verge of losing her fucking mind."

I swear this fic is just Diana's eyebrow twitching as she watches Bruce and Clark start dating and she's let in on both their civilian identities meanwhile Superman and Batman are on the watchtower arguing and disagreeing about basically everything on the daily. In the name of Justice, of course. The identity porn is on a whole other level and it was done so well.

Get Over It by rotasha (~32k rated T)

heh this one has plenty of identity hijinks. Sooooo funny. Summary: Bruce needs to get over his inconvenient feelings for Superman and he meets an attractive reporter who he thinks can help him do just that. Little does he know...

the cost of being a good dad by Mawiiish (~96k rated T)

hehehe... the batkids set up a dating profile for Bruce and catfish Clark. It's more of a blind date for Bruce (not that he had any idea he was going on a date at all), but who has Clark been texting for the past several weeks??? Oh yeah. The kids. What follows is as follows. Still with capes!

Rated: M

Guardian Dog by BombusBombus (~22k rated M)

Summary: There's something wrong with Clark Kent. He has to be a villain, right? A threat? He doesn't behave like a normal person, no matter how handsome or clever he may seem.

grasp his heart (once and for all) by liodain (~32k rated M) soulmate AU fic. Pretty emotional LOTS of identity issues going on there like so much. Kinda high on the drama and angst there honestly but it was a cute read. Summary: Bruce Wayne doesn't believe in fate.

tell all the truth (but tell it slant) by susiecarter (~33k rated M)

love me a fake dating AU. Summary: It takes a while for Batman and Superman to work things out, once Clark comes back from the dead. Pretending to date each other in order to explain why Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent are in the same place so often? Doesn't help as much as you might think.

Strangers When We Meet by Trista_zevkia (~63k rated M)

ANOTHER soulmate AU! This time feat. Kryptonian Biology hehehe. Summary: Clark Kent thought he was straight, until Batman kick started something. The question is what did Batman start? Is Brucie Wayne able to explain it to him?

ship-to-ship combat by pomeloquat (~77k rated M)

OK NO LISTEN this is one of my all-time favorite fics EVER. It's so meta and so funny. Clark is us. We are Clark. Clark is writing RPF for the Bruce/Batman ship and he's very convinced it's real EVEN THOUGH he has a huge crush on the Batman... let the hijinks BEGIN.

Rated: E

Embracing Destiny by Mithen (~8k rated E)

This one is just really really cute. Summary: As a member of the Legion of Super-Heroes in the 31st century, a teenaged Clark learns a stunning secret about his own future: he and someone called "Batman" will be legendary lovers.

perfect strangers by susiecarter (~15k rated E)

like. bruh. susie did it again. This tag says it all: communication failure. I love this one though. Summary: Batman and Superman are fucking. Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent are a great cover for fighting crime, and also might be dating. Bruce and Clark have no idea what they're doing; but they definitely aren't going to be able to talk themselves into stopping.

Relinquishing Control by foxyk (~25k rated E)

afsfwsdfhishdfksj no words. Read the authors summary and then just go read the fic:

Superman worries that if he lets go he'll injure his partner. Batman knows better. Batman worries that if he lets someone else in, he'll hurt them. Superman knows better.

Picture Perfect by TheSaltiestDog @the-saltiest-dog (~26k rated E)

this one is cute and then horny on main but also just so fluffy. Clark sees Bruce in a new light through candid shots, then proceeds to take lots of candid shots as they begin a relationship. Cue schmoop, fluff, smut, and – you guessed it! –Miscommunication!

A Night Off and sequel A Day Off by Mawiiish (~37k combined; first part is E, second is T)

One of my all-time favorites. My bookmark says 10/10 would read again soooooooo... 👀🤷‍♀️😅🥵

Bruce is enjoying one of his few nights off when a very persistent young man offers to buy him a drink. At first he's apprehensive; he's just here for a good time and this Clark seems to be looking for more than that. Then again, what harm can one drink do?

Clark wakes up to an empty bed and despite Bruce being honest from the start, he's still disappointed.

The Downsides to a Secret Identity by liodain (~42k rated E)

I'm currently reading this one – the summary from the author says it all, it's so good but sooo drama:

Bruce Wayne has taken a shine to Clark Kent, but Clark is more interested in the Bat of Gotham. The Bat, however, has it in for the Superman in a big way. Clark should probably have considered that before falling quite so hard. They're working together to track down some missing Kryptonian weaponry, after all...

50 Shades of Wayne by susiecarter (~161k rated E)

No but listen, this is actually so full of plot and emotional depth and not as much smut as you might think. It's a full-scale retelling of Batman v Superman but without them knowing each other's secret identities. I read it in one go... the reveal? Maybe the best I've ever read. Soooo many emotions. It's one of the few times I've read BDSM in a fic and it actually felt in character. I wasn't sure I would read it when I started, but it was a compelling read and extremely well done. Honestly, I'd read it again.

SuperBat Author Shoutouts:

susiecarter @susiecarter

liodain @liodain

Resacon1990 @sassyresacon1990

shipyrds @burins

Mawiiish @superbattrash

rotasha

Mithen

[kenjakusbraincum]

Hi, i can’t help but request this because you write so beautifully.

So I just had the idea of a former ballerina being sacrificed to Sukuna. She does her work good and gracefully but she longs for old times where she was able to dance and feel like she’s flying again. So she does it in the evening in Sukunas garden. He of course notices and as culture lover he is he makes her his personal dancer. And a cute lil love story forms from this scenario.

I would be so thankful if you form this to a proper story because i don’t have enough imagination. Love your work

Thank you for the compliment! I apologize in advance for my butchered descriptions of dance scenes and hope you like what I came up with anyways <3

Swan Lake

Sukuna x Reader

Word count: 6.3k

Tags/warnings: gn! reader but the words maid, whore and bitch are used, true form! sukuna, bullying, fluff with a very brief and soft smut scene at the end!

Sukuna doesn't care where his servants come from. People get offered to him all the time, and he takes them when he feels his palace is understaffed. And that happens quite often, considering how eagerly Sukuna gets rid of his servants for the smallest inconveniences. His staff is disposable to him, having no value beyond the services they provide him with.

So he doesn't know about your past. He doesn't know you were once an esteemed entertainer. He doesn't know that you were touring the world, sharing your art with audiences of all different classes and ranks in society. He doesn't know you were once the star of the stage, hypnotizing people with the fluidity of your movements in rhythm with the music. He doesn't know you were snatched from fame, taken against your will and brought to him to pay your capturer's debt. You're not sure he's even properly looked at you, much less heard your capturer tell him who you are. You were that worthless to him.

Now you are but a maid. You spend your days on your knees, mopping blood soaked floors. At night, you share chambers with dozens of other servants. Privacy is a foreign concept in Sukuna's palace. You are not entitled to it even in the bathroom. Everything is shared for the servants. There's no space for you to even try to indulge in your beloved profession, even as a hobby. Except...

The garden. Most servants are in bed, prepared to sleep, but your eyes linger on the windows. In every way, going to the garden would be to your own detriment. Losing sleep was dangerous, it could lead to getting caught slacking off, or being ratted out about it. And the consequences for that... well. One could only imagine it wouldn't be a simple slap on the wrist.

Still, you longed for this. The work you did during the day drained you, it was repetitive and soulless. You weren't made to clean floors. You were made to dance, it was your destiny. Since childhood, you don't remember a period of time as long as this one, where you haven't had the opportunity to enjoy your passion. Tears stung your eyes as this revelation found you. Every day, you could feel your life slipping through your fingers. You were alive, but your energy, your liveliness, your personality, all of it was dissipating in the pools of blood you were forced to clean.

''Can you be quiet? Some of us are trying to sleep.'', a servant who sleeps in the bed next to yours snaps you out of your thoughts. You are sobbing. You apologize quickly, and snuggle in bed, trying to muffle the noises against your deflated pillow.

But sleep just doesn't take you that night. You grow more and more frustrated, as time passes and you toss and turn in bed. Eyes wide open, fixed to the window across you. The garden lures you, calls for you. Damn it. You have to try. This is not much of a life anyways, you think. Sooner or later Sukuna or Uraume would find faults in what you're doing anyways, and you'd be served for dinner. You don't exactly have a lot to lose.

Sneaking out of the chambers is easy. You spent your whole life on your tippy toes. No one moves in their sleep as you cross the room, open the door and slide through the crack. Quietly, you make your way around the mansion. Outside, you're greeted by a light summer breeze. The garden is eerily peaceful, lit by the moonlight in this late hour.

You start to warm up, hopping, circling your neck, swinging your legs. Feeling the stretches in muscles you forgot you had. The grass tickles your legs as you splay across the ground and reach for your feet. Then stand and shift your weight to your toes, feeling out how rusty you've gotten in the time you've missed out on practicing. It's not too bad.

So you start out slow. The music plays in your head and you mouth silently, counting the rhythm. Your eyes are glued to the ground, you're trying not to trip and fall on the uneven surface. Your movement feels as smooth as it did before, but you can't see yourself in the mirror to check your form. You close your eyes, surrendering to the cadence of your motions. The music carries you, and as you turn into a poised second arabesque, time seems to slow. It's only a moment, but when you turn back to continue...

Slam. So hard you start to fall back, but his arms catch you around the waist. If you weren't scared out of your mind you would've wondered how did he even show up there without you noticing. But of course, he's Sukuna. You look at him with eyes so wide you think they may fall out, and he stares back with an amused smirk. Then he bites the air in front of you, clanking his sharp teeth together, and you scream in response. His hand flies to your mouth in an instant and he shuts you up.

"Quiet now. You wouldn't want to wake your colleagues up, would you?", he tilts his head, observing your terrified expression. "Or do you want everyone to slack off with you tomorrow?"

"I-I won't slack off I promise!!!", you panic, hands shaking as you bring them up in a defensive stance. Tears pool in your eyes as you stare death in the face. He is... weirdly beautiful, lit by the moonlight. And he holds you sturdily, but gently. It doesn't hurt. And he doesn't seem particularly mad.

"Is that so?", he asks. There's a smile on his face, but it feels dangerous, threatening. Like everything else about him. "Then just what do you think you're doing outside at this hour?"

"I was- I was dancing -", you stutter, struggling to form coherent sentences. Why are you so close to him? You're pulled flush against him. You can almost feel his -

"I didn't know I had a dancer in my ranks. Why didn't you say so?", he says, and surprisingly lets go of you.

You're so sure he's playing with his food. You're so sure he's going to slice you into pieces. You've already crossed so many lines, broken so many rules. You look to the ground, only now remembering eye contact with him was strictly forbidden.

"Speak.", he growls, audibly irritated by your refusal to reply.

You didn't think he was genuinely asking. What the hell are you supposed to say? Why didn't you say so? Maybe because you wanted to see the light of day again? "I ... A lowlife such as myself has no place speaking to your Highness.", you duck your head low in an apologetic manner. And he seems satisfied, smiling playfully again. Except you don't see it, you feel it. Sukuna's presence pulls the most demeaning, self-depricating things out of people's mouths.

"Humble.", he comments and walks a couple steps around you. He's huge. "Go on then, dance for me."

You stand frozen. It's not that you're ashamed... you've performed for audiences bigger than you ever could've imagined. But the weight of his stare is harder to bear than that of hundreds. And the stakes are higher than ever. He has to like it, or else...

"Dance!", he orders sternly, and crosses his arms over his chest. So you give it your all. Remembering where he interrupted you, you get back into position and start. Dance. Your life depends on it, doesn't it? Well if there's one thing you can do to save your life it should be this.

But it's not like before. Fear seeps into every muscle in your body, and your movements are unsure. Every jump is fleeting, every landing shaky. Tears blur your vision, and it's so hard to keep your breathing steady when you're struggling not to cry. But you're a ballet dancer, you were trained to endure. You finish the variation, cross your legs and gracefully bow.

Sukuna watches intently with narrowed eyes, like a predator stalking his prey. You can't see the sly smile on his face, but you can feel it.

"I apologize, your Highness.", your voice trembles. "It wasn't my best."

Sukuna huffs in amusement and waves his hand dismissively. "Go to sleep.", he orders.

You bow before him again, and quickly turn back towards the mansion. You don't feel relief from his piercing stare until you disappear behind a corner in the hallway.

You can't shake the feeling when you're back in your bed, snuggled in the sheets up to your eyes. You just survived a close encounter with Sukuna. And he must've liked what he saw at least a little bit, if you're still alive.

The next morning, you wake up and start getting ready for work with the other servants. The bathroom is busy, and as there's little else to do in the servant circles, gossiping starts immediately.

"Did you hear the scream last night?", the servant taking up the sink next to yours says, tapping foundation into her skin.

"Screams come from Sukuna's chambers all the time. It must be a new pet getting used to him.", another one replies. You shiver.

"Everyone knows how that sounds. This was different!", the two maids exchange a look.

The second rolls her eyes. "So, he killed someone. Nothing new.", she shakes her head.

"No. Uraume would've called someone to clean it up immediately.", the first servant continues. You really, really wish they would just drop it, until... "Hey you.", she turns to you. "Your bed was empty last night, did you hear anything?"

Your blood runs cold. "I was... feeling sick. And went to the bathroom.", you say quickly. "I probably couldn't hear... over the sound of throwing up."

"Hm.", both of them look at you now. "Well you look sick too.", one of them says. "Be careful with work today.", then they finish up and leave. You breathe a sigh of relief and finish up getting ready.

The next few days pass spotlessly. You don't cross paths with Sukuna. But some nights, you feel his presence in the garden. You stretch and practice simple movements in the bathroom, when no one's around. And the variations, you save them for the garden. At night. The only time you feel alive, the only time you feel like yourself. Human. Free. You think you might just get away with no one knowing, but then...

He walks past you and another maid while you're scrubbing the floors in the hallway. Both of you freeze as he passes by, assuming a submissive position and greeting him. You pray he won't notice, pray he won't know you by your voice, but he stops. Right by you, and then there's a moment of silence. He lifts his foot, touching your chin, and nudges you to look at him.

"Oh.", you watch his stern expression soften. "It's a shame for a talent like yourself to waste away on their knees.", he says. You look to the servant next to you, and she mouths a silent 'what?' as she turns her head in your direction.

You swallow your shame. It's not the first time you had to in front of Sukuna. "Its an honor to serve you, your Highness, even if it's on my knees.", you say.

Sukuna hums. "What a good servant you are.", an amused smile graces his face once again. "Well, get to rubbing then.", he nudges your face back downwards with his foot, and walks away.

You and the servants keep rubbing intensively, until he's out of sight and a couple minutes have passed. Then she grabs you by your shoulders and gives you a look that is both terrified and angry. "You did what with Sukuna?", she asks.

You frown, offended. Why does everyone in this mansion immediately think of that? "He knows I'm a dancer.", you say simply and look back to the floor, rage brewing in your chest.

"When did you do it. Was it you screaming? Oh my god it was!", the revelation hits the servant and she puts her hands on her cheeks, looking at you in shock.

"It wasn't me!!", you lie, agitation showing in your voice.

"Does he really have two dicks?", she asks.

You drain the washing rug and smack her in the face with it. "You disgusting pervert, how dare you ask that about your master!"

"You hit me! Whore!", she smacks you back, but harder, and her rag is full of dirty water.

"I'm not a whore!!", you cry, and wipe your face with your dirty, wet hands.

"Dancer. Yeah right, I can only imagine!", she throws the wet rag on you, and it sits on your lap, soaking you in the nasty liquid. "And you're a liar too! How shameless!"

"What is this commotion about?", a voice calls from the back of the hallway, and you turn around with teary eyes. Uraume looks like a blob of white in your vision, nonetheless they're recognizable.

"Tell them! You hit me, you little bitch!", the servant slaps your shoulder. You don't have it in you to fight back. The injustice pains your heart, and you can't bear the embarrassment.

Uraume smirks, noting your disheveled appearance. Your whole uniform is soaked now, even your hair. There's a pool of water forming around you as the liquid seeps out of the rags. "Clean this mess immediately. Master will be notified of this issue.", they say, and walk past the two of you.

The servant looks at you with contempt burning in her eyes. Then spits in front of you. "Clean.", she says, takes the rag you hit her with and starts cleaning.

Sukuna sees you that evening. He sits on his throne, head in his hand, and looks down on you and the other servant. He hides his inner smile, the joy he takes in executing power over others. And it's you again. He asks what this is about, and the servant wastes no time pointing her finger at you, saying you hit her first.

Sukuna's critical stare turns to you. ''Is that true?'', he asks, scanning you from head to toe, noting the state you're in. He's not particularly happy to see you like that.

You timidly nod, admitting your fault in the situation. Your stare is fixed to the ground, where dirty water drips down from your soaked clothes. You smell, and look like a rat, all of that in front of Sukuna. You wish the ground would swallow you whole and spare you this humiliation.

But he knows you. You've captivated him. Otherwise he wouldn't have cared to ask if you have anything to say in your defense. You tell him, omitting the details of her perverse question, you simply say she was slandering his holy name.

Sukuna moves, leaning his elbows on his knees. You care about his name? How lovely. So what is this slanderous thing his servants fought about?

Silence. You and the servant exchange uncomfortable looks. If there was one thing the both of you could agree on for the day, it was that repeating it in front of him was too vulgar. With that, Sukuna quickly grows bored with the situation. When he raises his hand, both of you flinch, expecting immediate punishment. However, nothing happens when he flicks his fingers. You're dismissed.

Quickly, both of you scurry away, leaving the throne room and going back to your jobs. The rest of the day is harrowing. The rumor spreads among the servants quickly, and you are the butt of every joke. You hear whispering and giggling behind your back, and everyone's stares linger on you as you go about your day. The culmination happens next morning, when the servants are getting ready in the bathroom, and the insults start getting more direct.

''Show us how you dance for Sukuna, why don't you?''

''Did you take both at the same time?''

''He didn't like you very much if you're still working as a servant.''

And then everyone goes quiet. When you turn around, you see Uraume at the door, their eyes fixed on you. ''Come.'', they say quietly, and leave without waiting for you to catch up. Well, it seems your punishment is due. You gladly leave the bathroom and follow them down the hall, anything is better than spending another second with the other servants. But now that you think of it, where is the servant that shares your punishment? Have you even seen her this morning? Or after the meeting with Sukuna at all?

You turn a couple corners, and stop at the end of the hallway. Uraume opens the doors to a room, and ushers you inside. What is this? It's furnished. Modestly, but... You open your mouth to ask a question, but you're quickly cut off.

''Make yourself at home.'', they say, and turn their attention to you.

''What about my things?'', you ask, looking around the room, then back to Uraume.

''You won't need them. Do you have good table manners?''

''Uhh.. yeah... I think.''

''Great. You dine with Master Sukuna tonight.''

''Huh!?''

''Your outfit is on the bed, be ready by sunset. I'll come to pick you up.''

Then the door closes and you're left alone in your new room. This isn't what a punishment should look like. Not when a beautiful kimono waits on your bed. Not when there's a barre fixed onto a mirrored wall, and there's a box on the ground, and when you open it, you find pointe shoes. Multiple pairs. He didn't know what size to get you. Ribbons, a sewing kit, glue, scissors... everything you need to break them in. Under that, a simple black leotard and a wrap skirt. By all means... this looks more like a reward.

You try everything on, find the perfect pair of shoes, and test them. It's not a big room, but there's enough space for you to practice with the bar. For the first time in so long, time passes quick. You're doing something you enjoy. It feels like in a blink of an eye, your shadow gets long on the wall opposing the window, and you have to get ready for dinner. You put the kimono on to the best of your ability - you don't have the opportunity to wear it often as a servant, being usually restrained in a uniform. And then reality hits you. Sukuna wants to have you over for dinner. This... is this a date? Unless he was planning to eat you, but you suppose he wouldn't have bought you shoes and furnished a room specially for you if that was the case... Come to think of it, what are you eating tonight?

Uraume knocks on the door, and takes a long look at you when you open. They fix your collar and nod, taking off down the hallway and expecting you to follow. They lead you to the dining room, vast and expensively furnished. You hear your heartbeat drumming in your ears. You only let your eyes explore for a second, before you fix them back to the ground and lower your head in Sukuna's presence.

''Your Highness.'', you bow in his direction.

''Master from now on.'', he says, and stands up to greet you. Master. You've only heard Uraume, and occasionally his pets, when he'd walk by with them, call him this by this... less formal title. He towers over you as his hand touches your shoulder, urging you to turn around. You follow obediently, making a circle and displaying your outfit.

He hums in approval. "Suits you much better than a cleaning uniform.", he says, and pulls your chair out for you to sit. You mutter a quiet thank you and sit down, already overwhelmed by the interaction.

He sits on the other side of the table, facing you. You can't bear the intense eye contact, and the silence that spreads across the room. Your eyes are fixed to your hands in your lap. ''Don't be shy now. I didn't invite you to sit there and be quiet. I reserve such duties for my pets.'', he breaks the silence.

''Master. Sharing a meal with you is a privilege, and I want to thank you for that. I'm not sure I'm deserving of it, though, and how my company may be of use to you.''. The kitchen servants scatter around the table, bringing food and pouring drinks. Various appetizers decorate the table, and only now do you notice you're hungry. You shyly pick the foods that catch your eye the most.

And your humility draws out a smile from him. ''You are an artist. And I am a man who takes great joy in consuming art.'', he says, and taps his finger against his glass, watching you pick. He's getting to know you, through your taste in food.

''I didn't know that about you.'', you say and look to your plate. You feel your hand shaking as you reach for the cutlery. You know Sukuna is judging every move. He was in your territory when you were dancing, now you're on his. And he will recognize the smallest mistake.

''Oh.'', his tone changes. It sounds like he didn't particularly like that comment. He finishes chewing. ''Did you take me for a savage?'', he narrows his eyes. More food is brought to the table, plates come and go quickly as the conversation progresses, and the tension grows.

You stutter, reading his volatile mood. ''I've only heard rumors.''.

He huffs in amusement again. ''I've heard rumors about you too.'', he says, leaning into the table. ''To be fair, I was asking around.''. So he took interest in you. ''They say you were the best there was, until you got captured.''

You chew slowly, taking his story in. He continues. ''They asked about you. Asked if I knew where you are. I said no.''. Sukuna watches as you grow visibly distressed by the mentions of your team. ''The best there is? What a wonderful prize. I'd rather keep you to myself.''. Oh. So that's what this is about. He gets off on the thought of owning you, the best there is, just for himself. You curse whoever told him about you. ''You showed me your worst, and mesmerized me. I want you to show me your best. Dance for me. Convince me you're worth my patronage.''.

The servants bring the main dish, and your head droops, stare fixed into the finely decorated red meat. You touch it with your cutlery, feeling it's texture. Sukuna eyes you as you cut a slice and bring it to your mouth, expectantly waiting for your reaction. You chew slowly, savoring the taste, but your expression is puzzled. ''What is this?'', you ask. And to make sure it doesn't sound like you're unhappy, you cut another slice. Truthfully, the food is incredible, but... you can't quite place the meat.

Sukuna bares his sharp teeth in a grin. ''Veal.''.

The conversation steers into a different direction then, and you quickly forget about how powerless you felt just moments ago. Sukuna is nothing like you've imagined him. He's right, you did take him for a savage. After all, everything you've heard about him pointed to a monster, who only took pleasure in wreaking havoc and destruction. Now, you find him to be eloquent, knowledgeable, and quite sophisticated. In a way, he appears similar to the other people you've met through your job. But way more powerful, and with it, way more intriguing.

Once again, time passes quickly, slipping through your fingers. The dinner is over, and you're facing Sukuna at the door. He seems to be pleased with your company, if you can read his face at all. ''Should I consider my offer accepted?'', he inquires. ''Everything will be provided for you. You just have to dance.''.

Well, it doesn't sound half bad, does it? You're not sure if the terms of the offers convinced you, or his presentation during the dinner. It might just be him. He made you feel you wouldn't be a jester, but a respected entertainer. And not for just anyone, but for a man as thoughtful and cultured as Sukuna proved himself to be. ''For you, gladly. Master.'', you smile at him. And he smiles back, taking your small hand into his, and planting a soft kiss to your fingers. You bow to him, wish him a good night, and you part ways.

Later, in your new bed, you find yourself replaying the interaction. Tracing his features in your memory. It's the first time you've had the chance to observe him, without fear of consequences. And he was beautiful. So elegant in the way he dressed and carried himself. Like a true king.

From then on, life in Sukuna's mansion is a game. Sukuna courts you in his dining room, feeding you delicacies from all around the world Foods that are hard and expensive to come by, that you've never heard of before. He courts you with the things he allows you to do, and the gifts he gives you. You dance and eat and walk around his garden and library. You don't dine with him every night, but when you do, rest assured that a new outfit is waiting for you in your room when you get back from practice.

And you court him on the floor, with feathery leaps that leave him on the edge of his seat, and dizzying turns that force him to focus all four eyes on you. You court him when you finish the variation by bowing before him, on one knee, a breath away from where he's sitting. And when you look up at him, he sees a lover rather than a personal dancer. Even though he's never touched you, or pressed his lips to yours.

There is love in the foods he picks for you specifically to enjoy, and there is love in the way you let him watch you practice. Even if you mess up, misstep and fall out of rhythm. Even if you stumble and fall in the most unceremonious of ways. There is vulnerability in letting him see you fail. It only happens a handful of times, but when you slip before him, you feel more naked than you would ever feel with your clothes off. And the relationship that the two of you foster grows intimate, despite the formal distance you keep from each other.

And that distance closes in, one day when Sukuna is there during a particularly nasty fall. You yelp when you hit the ground, and reach for your ankle, checking for injury. You only notice Sukuna when you feel his hand on your shoulder, and his brows furrowed in worry as his head looms over you. Your eyes meet for a moment, and you're hypnotized. Then you look away quickly, feeling your face heat up from the closeness.

''It's nothing.'', you say, and look down.

''Sure?'', Sukuna asks and stands up. You nod, and he offers you a pair of his hands, to help you stand. You take them, and he hoists you up effortlessly. And now you're face to face with his chest, and you're still holding his hands... ''That should to for today.'', he says, and when you look at him, there's a tender smile on his face. It sounds like a suggestion, but you've learned Sukuna is subtle about giving you orders. You nod, dust yourself off and untie your shoes.

That night, you recall his touch on your skin. Long fingernails ghosting over your shoulder, sending shivers through your whole body. You never expected Sukuna to have it in him to be gentle. But, that wouldn't be the first time he's broken the mold you thought he fit. And now in the cold of night, you find yourself craving him.

The next time you're invited to dinner, the tension is almost unbearable. ''Aren't you a sight to behold?'', he tells you when he welcomes you into the room. He always gives you compliments, but tonight they weigh heavy on your heart. You look across the table and curse every plate and glass that stands between the two of you. You look at him with quiet longing, and you think he knows. Because his smile is victorious, almost teasing. And when you accidentally hit his leg under the table, you start to credit it less to his size, and more to him deliberately crossing into your space. Subtlety is not a word you ever thought you'd attribute to Sukuna, but it seems this is the way you've established communication. You resist the instinct to remove your leg apologetically. So they stay touching.

Unfortunately, this little interaction slowly turns your brain into mush. By the last bite, your hand is trembling and you know you don't have the precision to pick up the last piece of food with your chopsticks. So you leave it on the plate, and wait for a moment when Sukuna is at least a little bit distracted, to attempt eating it again.

But such a thing doesn't happen. Today, he looks at you like you're the food on his plate. "Come on, eat it.", he nods in your direction. You can't read his expression, but it seems benevolent.

"I'm so full.", you make up an excuse.

"Just one strip.", he nudges your leg under the table, and you flinch, cheeks heating up.

"I.. I think I'll combust.", lies.

"I'll be offended.", Sukuna plays along with your game.

"Ah...", he wins, and you pick up your chopsticks with shaky hands. But as hard as you try, the little piece of food keeps escaping you, traveling through the plate.

"What makes you so flustered today?", he asks. "Is it the leg?". You blink at the plate, and feel your face going as red as the wine in your glass. "Come.", he waves his finger at you. You lean into the table, used to following his commands. And in no time, he is looming over your plate, one hand picking the last piece of your food with his chopsticks, and the other gently taking hold of your chin, nudging your mouth open. You part your lips obediently, and he places the bit onto your tongue, never breaking eye contact. His face is mere centimeters away from yours, observing you as you chew.

And the moment you've swallowed, and opened your mouth for air, he seizes you in a kiss. Slow, as he tastes your lips, and lets you adjust and catch up with him. He feels you go tense with the initial shock, then relax in his hold and kiss him back. His tongue brushes past your lips, and you think you'll sink right through your chair, and into the earth beneath the floor. The taste, the smell of him, so expensive and intoxicating. If this moment could last forever -

Foolish you. So much stress and tension, and you barely notice how quickly it passes. , how quickly his lips leave yours. His eyes scan your face, making sure you're alright, and then he's back in his chair. "There.", he says, "Have something to be flustered about."

That night, you think about his lips, slipping away from yours and moving to your neck, collarbones, shoulders. Not stopping until they've explored your whole body and touched your soul.

In the meantime, you practice your chosen choreography to perfection. And when you're standing in his throne room and awaiting the music, and your deciding performance to start, it's the first time in a while that you recognize feeling nervous. Uraume is there too, and his other disciples and guests. But he is the only one that matters. The only one your life depends on. Although the times when your life was truly on the line are long gone, Sukuna is still your patron, and now it's your turn to either satisfy or disappoint him.

The music starts, and the nervousness wanes as you start dancing. Sukuna's gaze is heavy, critical. He's seen you do this times and times already, but now it's final. Now, he's telling you, ''Bewitch me.''. Now, you're joining it together, one seamless show just for his enjoyment. And with every spin, you keep your eyes fixed on him. Enticing him with your movement, seducing him.

And for once, time passes quick for Sukuna as well. He finds himself lost in your dance. In your quick glances, in the way your body moves, contorts, withstands your weight on your tippy toes with so much grace and fluidity. You make it look easy. You nail the landing you failed so many times before his very eyes, perfectly, effortlessly. He almost wonders if you fell intentionally when he was watching you. And he's captivated. By the end of your performance, you earn his smile. You earn the clap of his hands, you even earn his standing ovation. The king himself, honoring you with the highest form of praise.

''It takes quite a performer, to entertain a crowd all by oneself.'', he comments later, over dinner. ''You've convinced me. You're worth keeping.''

''And when I can't dance anymore?'', you ask.

''You'll still be able to eat with me.'', he says.

At the doors, he bends down to kiss you again. You anticipate it, and accept it, kneading your hands through his hair. He asks if you're tired, and you shake your head no. He asks if you want to come with him. Yes, please yes, you've wanted to for so long. You almost thought he'd never ask. Again, his face lights up in a victorious smile.

He walks you through the halls, to his quarters of the mansion. Vast, and decorated with various works of art. They hang on the wall, or stand on the cupboards in forms of statues of various sizes. Sukuna likes to collect things, if that wasn't evident by your presence in the mansion.

''You're dragging behind. Did you have a change of heart?'', he asks, and extends his hand towards you. You step closer, and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. You're standing at the doors of his bedroom.

''I was just admiring the interior.'', you smile at him, and take it upon yourself to cross the doorstep. His bedroom overlooks the garden, through a tall set of windows, little plants sitting on his windowsill. And his bed is massive. You think it could fit four people of your size. But then again, Sukuna is not a normal sized person. Your hand finds the mattress, testing it's sturdiness. And when you turn around, he's right behind you. Towering over you, and forcing you to look up at him, like the king he is. But you're not scared. You have no reason to be.

''Lay down.'', he orders, but his voice doesn't sound stern. Still, you obey, climbing into the bed. And he follows, letting you ease into the pillows only for a moment, before he settles above you, urging your legs apart. You welcome him, finally feeling the closeness you've been craving for so long. His body, big enough to enclose you completely under him, so carefully pressed against yours. Light enough not to hurt, but heavy enough to establish power. To give you what you want, what you've craved for a very long time.

He never lets you forget whose grasp you're in. He folds your smaller body with ease, adjusting you to his liking. And you let him, trusting him with your body and pleasure. He takes you gently, slowly, making sure you're comfortable in the process. You feel so full of him, but it's not enough, not enough until all of your senses are overwhelmed with him. You feel up his muscled arms and back, wrap around him, pull him closer with every stroke, every swipe of his lips against yours. Sukuna draws the moans out of you with practiced thrust of his hips, hitting spots inside you you didn't know existed. In no time you're seeing stars - his four eyes, never leaving yours as you come apart.

And Sukuna is stoic for the most part, but by the end of it, even he is loosing his composure. Hungry moans slip past his lips, his brows furrowing as he concentrates, trying not to let out too soon. You encourage him, babbling sweet nonsense into his ear. This flustered Sukuna, completely engulfed in the chase of his own pleasure, is as close as you've come to seeing a god. Moments later, his hips still, and you feel his muscles tense as he reaches completion, deep grunts filling your ears like the sweetest music.

You lay in his embrace, and trace your fingertips over his tattoos. Your stare is fixed on him, as he tells you various anecdotes from his long lifetime. You enjoy the opportunity to admire his beauty from up close. His eyes, so unusually benevolent as they stare outside the window and turn to you from time to time, to check if you're awake. The curve of his nose, the glimpses of his sharp teeth, his strong, masculine jawline. He is an art piece on his own.

After a while, he notices you struggling to stay awake. His hand on the back of your head nudges you to lay on his chest. He whispers you a good night, and runs his hand through your hair as you drift off. It's been a long day you've dedicated entirely to him, so he finds you worthy of this special treatment. After all, it isn't often that someone claims the title of both Sukuna's personal dancer and his lover, much less in the same day.

[mydarlingclaudia]

I will love you ‘til the end of time

note : divider is from @/toastray. I have nothing to say this was supposed to be a couple hundred words but yk.

wc : 2.7k

tags : @lottiies @luvrgreyy

desc : he’s been in love with the memory of you for too long, falling back in love with the newer you took a matter of seconds. fluff, bit of angst (?), au, re4rLeon, fem!reader, not proofread, I talk a tiny bit about sex at the end but there’s no smut.

Leon doesn’t remember the sound of your voice, it’s been too long, too many years have passed since the day you died.

Six years was all the time the two of you had together. Six good years. All a really, really long time ago. Leon hates it, he knows he’s forgetting, memories are serving less and less of a purpose to him everyday. How is he to remember lying under the trees with you when those trees have been cut down and turned to homes and firewood? How can he remember you gutting fish for the two of you to eat when the fish have left the river you lived by?

The home you originally lived in had been torn down and rebuilt dozens of times by now, Leon wasn’t always there, even when he was, it wasn’t very lived in after you died. He’s been around the world more times than he can remember, before you, with you, after you. No place looks the same. Leon has many homes, stays there for a few decades, packs up, and moves to the next house in the next country.

He had been gifted with everlasting life for being some hero, for fighting monster when those were still a thing, it was well after he had married you, he didn’t tell you, but he thought you’d spend forever together. Didn’t happen, obviously. You got sick, he took care of you, nothing helped.

Leon prayed to whatever God that had bestowed his immortality to him to give it to you too, to keep you alive, to make you healthy again. He received no answer and you died not long after, Leon was left to spend the rest of his eternal life alone, but the world was his, and he has all the time that the universe has to offer. But what had he done to not be granted the one thing he wanted in the world? Why would some God reward him just to let him live the rest of his life miserable?

Leon’s seen everyone fall in love, but love evolved from courting to dating apps, he’s seen an embarrassing amount of shitty first dates. But he’s also seen a lot of good ones, ones where the first date turns to a second one, then a third, then a fourth, then before he knows it, those twenty-something-year-olds he had seen fall in love in a small restaurant were now taking their teenagers to the mall and going to high school reunions.

You would have loved this, or he hopes you would’ve. Because he really wishes that you were there to cuddle up to him on the couch and watch tv with him until midnight, he wanted to take you on cute dates, he wants to buy you things and renew your vows once every few years.

He wishes that the memories are clearer in his head, he can really only see them when he closes his eyes, or when the weather is a certain way, or when a certain smell hits his nose. Leon wants to feel your skin against his again. he wants to hear you talking directly into his ear and see that smirk on your face when you suggest something you know he won't refuse.

But it's been so long and he knows that your body has long since decomposed and your grave has been swallowed up by the ocean, a good half of the time since then he's been living on auto-pilot, the other half he's painfully aware of your absence with each day that passes.

He's not even sure he'd be able to hold you correctly, should you fall back into his arms one day. Would you still love him despite that?

He's gone so long without a lover, would he remember how to kiss? The Hollywood movies don't do it justice, kissing. But no one in those movies kissed like you had, Leon's seen all kinds of romance movies, read all kinds of books, he's always imagined you and him as the main characters, but you never kiss him the way you used to.

Would you even choose him? There were so many different men out there and so many new ways to meet someone and stay connected, there was no rush to get married or have kids, would Leon be the man you'd pick once again? He hopes so.

He doesn't remember Beowulf having a wife, and Beowulf had been great. He knows that many heroes aren't able to keep their wife and their glory at the same time, the decision is often made for them, and they go on fighting until they die. But Leon stopped fighting with the same determination when you passed, he still did it, people needed protecting, but if he wasn't there to protect you, then was there really anything to fight for?

Despite all of this, he's still here. Leon looks the same as he did all those years ago, some things have changed, a lot, really, but not just about him. The world around him has grown, he's watched generations come and go just to get to some shitty grocery store in Raccoon City twenty minutes before they close at eight.

Leon doesn't like to have to work all the time, he thinks it's crazy how he went from hero to cop, more money was needed to live now than he ever imagined would be possible. He has money saved up from years and years of work, but he can't keep using the "generational wealth" excuse when he's got no family.

He doesn't like being bugged much, either. Maybe that's why he's buying his dinner when he's already supposed to be in bed, could be why he works so much even though he can't stand it sometimes, too.

Leon should have grabbed a shopping cart, the basket he carries is overflowing with shit he doesn't even need, when has he ever even eaten Devil Dogs and Zebra Cakes? He really needs to eat more than just pasta and steak every other night, maybe stop getting deliveries from the pizza place, too. He's looking over the ingredients on the back of a cereal box he knows he's going to get no matter what when there's a soft tap on his shoulder, he sighs and stops, turning around and preparing to be asked a question a cashier would know the answer to rather than him.

But Leon freezes the second his eyes land on your face. He must've gone crazy, it can't be you, can it? You're not really standing in front of him with a basket in your arms, wearing a winter jacket over your sweatshirt and smiling at him as if you're some stranger to him.

"Where did you get those?" Your voice is quiet when you speak, his gaze doesn't even follow your hand when you point at the sweets in his basket, he just stands there and admires you for a few seconds.

Leon wants to cry, he wants to hug you, he wants to kiss you, tell you to run away with him, find someway for you to become immortal and stay by his side until the world ends. But he doesn’t, you look at him like he’s a stranger.

"Oh- Th-the uhm, the Zebra Cakes?" Leon finally asks after a few seconds, you only nod. "The e-end of aisle six." Why is he stammering? He's thought about all the things he'd say to you for hundreds of years, and he's instantly throwing every single word out the window the second you come out from whatever corner of the world you've been hiding in.

"Alright, thanks." God, it really is you. Your smile's the same, you look the same, you smell the same, you sound the same, you just- it's you. He remembers the way you sound again, God, please don’t ever take your voice away from him. He stops himself from reaching for your wrist when you walk away, knowing that you don't remember the things he does and that it'll only make you feel weird about him. But he'll settle for knowing that you're alive and that you're in the city, and that hopefully this won't be the last time he sees you.

—

The next time Leon sees you is on the subway a few weeks later in December.

You're not really looking when you step into the train, reaching up too high for the pole to hang onto and instead grab onto his hand. Your hands are so cold, you really need to wear gloves. But you gasp and pull your hand away when you feel his warm hand touch your skin, instantly holding lower down on the cold pole and looking at him.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry!" It's cute how quickly you apologize, it brings a smile to his face.

"No- No, you’re fine." He wants so badly to wrap his hand around yours, to hold you close and keep you warm, but he couldn’t, he was still a stranger to you. Being in a crowded train and standing a few inches apart was enough for now.

Leon just watches you, you don’t notice because you’re too busy staring down at your shoes, but his eyes are tracing over the curve of your nose, the way your eyelashes look when you blink, how kissable your lips look. He missed this view, although he'd much rather have you looking back at him with the same adoration in your eyes.

Neither of you speak again for the rest of the ride, you can feel him staring at you, though, you don’t entirely mind, you’d probably looking at him if his eyes weren’t burning holes through your skull.

You haven’t left his mind since he saw you at the grocery store, he’s been trying to figure out ways to find you again without getting put on some kind of radar, he’s too impatient to let things happen naturally, but it’s really the only choice he has.

He knows you recognize him, he can’t help but wonder if you’re getting some kind of vision from the past of him kissing you, of you resting on top of him in the sunlight, of him looking at you with awe in his eyes as you laugh at a story he told you.

But he can’t think about that for long, the train comes to a stop and you leave again, looking back over your shoulder at him and giving him a small goodbye smile. Where have you been all these years?

—

Sometimes, shitty dates were a good thing.

Both parties normally end up having a bad rest of their night, but if some man-child asshole you had been put on a date with hadn’t just thrown a whole tantrum and stomped out of the bar, you wouldn’t be sitting next to Leon.

He didn’t know you’d be here tonight, he was just here because he wanted to grab a drink after work, but this was better.

It’s awkward, he really, really doesn’t hope you think he’s stalking you. How small could a city be? Is it really so odd that the man you said a few words to at a grocery store and bumped into on the train would be sitting next to you at a bar?

Leon’s always had a staring problem when it came to you, he’s sure you’re too pretty for him, not that you were really his anymore. And Christ, you’re still beautiful, maybe even more so now. Modern clothes look good on you, he likes your dress, your shoes, the way you did your hair, the color you painted your nails.

He has to stop staring, because now you’re looking back at him. Leon expects for you to yell at him, or slap him, or something, but you just smile at him and turn towards him a tiny bit more.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to stare, zoned out.” Leon apologizes once his eyes snap up to yours, you had moved from your table up to the bar a few minutes ago, most likely embarrassed. You brought your drink over, too, though you didn’t really pay attention to it, just circling the lip of the cup with your fingers and taking a few sips every few seconds.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind.” Your smile only grows, Leon has to bite back a grin threatening to stretch across his lips. Once again, he’s not sure what to say. Does he ever really know what to say now, though? You take the words right out of his mouth and turn them into broken mumbles that he tries to cover up with a fake cough or forced chuckle.

That didn’t use to happen, he’d still get nervous around you, but seeing you now made him feel like he was falling in love again.

“I’d feel like I’ve seen you before…?” You say, you know you’re right, you just want him to talk to you because you haven’t been able to get him out of your head, for some reason.

“Oh, uhm, yeah- Yeah, I think I’ve seen you around, too.” Is he seriously fucking blushing right now?

“Hm, small world.” You take a sip from your drink, he does the same.

“So, uh, bad date?” Leon asks before he can stop himself, he knows the answer, but you were probably going to get mad at him, get offended and ignore him if he sees you again.

“Yeah,” You sigh, “It’s fine, though. Blind date.” Leon nodded, staring down at the ring of water his glass left on the countertop. “You just here for a drink?”

“Mhm,” Alcohol was like water to him now, not the way that he drinks it everyday, but that it hardly has an effect on him anymore. But he can’t sit here and drink glass after glass unless if he wants people to get concerned, so he just sips on one or two for an hour and leaves. You’re drinking the same drink as him, though, so he decides to stay for longer than usual.

And to his amazement, you stay, too. You laugh and nod at the stories he tells you, he listens intently to the ones you tell in return. Of course you’ve been living a different life than the one he had with you, but this is already getting better than the last. And you seem… into him? More into him than you were with your actual date, he’s not complaining.

By the time you and Leon go your separate ways, it’s pitch black outside, well, not really, it’s never completely dark in a city. The lights of driving cars and buildings illuminate you beautifully, like you’re something holy.

Leon finds a napkin with a phone number scribbled on it in his jacket pocket, it must’ve been yours, he couldn’t be happier.

—

Whatever higher being blessed him with another chance with you, he’d praise for the rest of eternal life. Because after a few hour-long phone calls and a couple more coincidental meetings, he’s taking you out on dates and you’re holding onto his arm and kissing his cheek.

It’s better than he remembers, the city offers more things for the two of you to do, and he’s up for anything you suggest.

Leon is finally able to feel your skin underneath his fingertips, feel your lips against his, listen to your voice in his ear, buy you nice things, have you cuddle up with him on the couch, he has you back.

You look so peaceful when you sleep, your head resting on his bicep, his naked skin pressed against yours. It’s been a year, you both still look the same, but he knows you’re changing. Leon hadn’t had sex in so long that he was sure that he would’ve fucked it up, you had taken charge, and it had been soft and slow, anyway. Nothing for him to worry about.

He’s been awake for an hour, just looking at you, trying to imprint this memory into his mind in case you were to disappear soon. But you finally start to stir, blinking your eyes a few times as you start to wake up.

“Leon…?” You mumble, he pulls you closer.

“Go back to sleep,” A kiss to your eyebrow, then the bridge of your nose, your lips twitch up into a sleepy smile.

“Mm… ‘kay. Love you.” You yawn, resting your hand on his chest as you close your eyes again and nestle into his shoulder. He hasn’t heard that from you in ages, he doesn’t know if you meant to say it, but he’s thankful you did.

“… Yeah, love you, too.”

[skipper1331]

Communication is key // Alexia Putellas

Without thinking, you called Alexia, feeling frustrated and disappointed about her behavior.

"Hello amor"

"Were you at the beach with the girls yesterday?"

Since weeks you had been asking if she wanted to hangout and go to be beach, just for some time away from football.

"Yes, why?" she replied, confused.

"I don’t want to fight, but I’m asking since 2 weeks if you want to go to the beach with me and you tell me you‘re busy each time and now you went out with the other girls? To the beach? Even though, you know I’ve been asking…You didn‘t ask if I wanted to join you guys" you said, upset about the fact that Alexia acted that way and that you got so carried away as to even bring it up.

"Eh- um…" the midfielder was silent for a moment, thinking about how to phrase it as kindly as possible "the problem is that Mapi has a problem with you and that’s why we decided as a group that you can‘t join. It wouldn’t end well"

"We‘re a friend group of 5 people…? If she has a problem she should talk to me privately."

The friends group consisted of Mapi, Ingrid, Frido, Ale and yourself.

"Yeah.."

"So, I’m no longer part of the group when Mapi is there? That‘s so nice, Alexia, thanks!" your voice was laced with sarcasm and anger.

Of all people, you at least thought Alexia would defend or support you - you were her girlfriend.

"What do you want to hear from me? The girls asked and I wanted to do something as a group so I went along. And if they exclude you, there's nothing I can do about it. Just chill out, we'll catch up on it at some point."

The betrayal and hurt you felt in that moment, was unreal - how could she say something like that? She was the person who had asked you out a dozens of times with puppy dog eyes. She was the one who begged for your kisses and love. And she was the one who wanted to spend every second of the day with you, no matter what plans either of you had.

Why was she acting so cold and rude now?

"You know what? If you want to hangout with me, then feel free to text me, but I won‘t be running after you, just to get rejected every time, even though you apparently have the time but just don't want to when it’s with me, your girlfriend! So, text me if you want to do something that isn’t having sex, otherwise we'll see each other in training."

With that you ended the call.

Did your friend group really decided that? It didn‘t seem to make any sense. And was even the problem with Mapi? The two of you were friends, never any problem between the two of you. But more importantly: what was the matter with Alexia? Why was she acting weird and distant? Have you done something wrong?

Normally, both of you were all over each other, holding hands, kissing in the storage room or even just an arm around your waist - spending almost 24/7 together. What was happening?

You declined every call that came in after, the caller id always the same.

reina 👑

amor, por favor.

call me back

lo siento

Caught up in your anger, you started to deep clean your apartment, not being bothered to call her back or even reply. The cleaning relaxed you but it also got you thinking. Was Alexia acting like this because she wanted to break up with you? Did she realize that you weren’t worth her time, attention and love? You always had a feeling that Alexia would break up with you at some point, many pretty girls in the world that would die to even just meet Alexia, let alone be loved by her.

That night you went to bed feeling very queasy and stressed - was she really about to break with you? She had texted you multiple times as she also had tried to call you but you didn’t answer.

The next day, you went to training acting as usually but with one exception - you avoided Ale and the rest of your friend group.

You did partner drills with Patri, talked in water breaks with Lucy and ate lunch with Aitana, Keira and Caro.

It was usual that you socialized with other people than your friend group but the unusual part was that Alexia didn‘t follow you around like a lost puppy. Instead she sent longing looks towards you, sad smiles displaying in her face when you dodged her glances as she tried to act tough and unbothered by your ignorance.

"What have you done?" a thick English accent asked the midfielder who was walking towards the changing room.

"Maybe I handled things a bit wrong" she explained, not wanting to reveal too much - a little bit scared of the Lucy Bronze as she had gotten the shovel talk from her when she started dating you.

'If you hurt her, I will haunt and hurt you' Lucy had told the Barcelona captain.

That day, Alexia promised Lucy and herself to never hurt you - not that she intended to anyways.

"You better make up with her otherwise I will have to hurt you" the defender smiled, entering the locker and walking to her cubby.

Alexia was quick to take a shower and get ready, waiting for you in front of the facility. She knew you hadn‘t left yet as you had entered the changing room when she came out of the shower.

She indeed wanted to make up with you, the whole situation a misunderstanding.

When you walked out of the facility, she called after you, "Amor, ¡esperar!" grabbing your hand, stopping you on your short journey to the car, "can we talk?" her voice was gentle and caring.

"Do you want to break up with me?" you asked straight forward, stepping back, trying to protect yourself with the distance yet you knew it wouldn’t help from a potential heart break.

"No no, amor, no. Let me pick you up at 7, okay? I‘ll explain everything"

You thought about it, unsure what to do.

"Okay"

It was Alexia after all, the person who was always honest. If she wanted to explain something, she would.

"Thank you, amor" she pressed a kiss to your cheek, walking you to your car, "be safe" she said as watched you, pull out of the parking lot, feeling so much better now that she had talked to you, even if it was just a few sentences - now that you had smiled at her.

-

5 minutes early, she rang your door bell, shuffling with her feet and fidgeting with her hands - she was nervous.

"Come in" you greeted her, "just need to put on my shoes then we can go"

The midfielder nodded, shyly entering your home as if she hadn‘t been here before.

"You look very beautiful, like always" she smiled, cheeks slowly turning red. Alexia felt like as if it was your first date all over again. She still remembered how shy and nervous she was, wanting to do everything perfect, so you‘d like her and she could ask you on another date. Also she had said the exact same thing when she picked you up for your first date.

"Reminds me of something" you chuckled, as well thinking back to the night where she had taken you out.

"Sí, you‘re getting prettier every day that hasn‘t changed"

Alexia thought you were the prettiest girl in the world, you took her breath away every time she saw you - you were absolutely stunning.

"charmer" you giggled, cheeks a dark shade of red. In that moment, everything felt like it used to be. She wasn‘t acting distant or weird, she was acting like the girl you fell in love with.

Everything is going to be okay.

"Amor, may I?" she asked politely, offering her arm as you had put on your shoes. Wordlessly, you linked your arms, walking towards her car. She opened the door for you, hurriedly rushing over to her side before she started the engine and rested her hand on your thigh. She was glad when you didn‘t push her off - you had missed her touch all day.

The two of you stayed in silence, your favourite songs playing as she drove to her destination. With every metre you got closer, she became more nervous and anxious. She knew she had some explaining to do but also was about to ask you an important question - which was the reason she even had to explain things. She wouldn‘t let a misunderstanding fuck things up with you. She wanted to marry you in the future - your relationship was very serious to her.

(Also she did not wanted to get haunted by a certain scary English defender.)

-

"Why are we at the beach?" you asked, the ocean right in front of you.

"Do you trust me?" the Barcelona player questioned, avoiding your question - she would explain in a moment, you just had to wait and trust her.

"I‘m not quite sure?" Ale raised an eyebrow, "fine, I trust you"

The girl smiled widely, stepping behind you and covering your eyes with her hands, "are you about to murder me?" you joked, knowing damn well that Alexia wouldn‘t dream of letting you fall or hurt yourself in any kind of way.

"Keep walking, amor"

-

After a short walk in the sand, the woman stopped, slowly revealing the sight in front of you.

There was a large picnic blanket, cushions and basket, wine and two glasses standing next to it - it looked romantic.

"Ale- what‘s all of this?" you asked confused, already emotionally touched by the gesture.

She sat down, making herself comfortable before she tapped between her legs, "come here"

Sitting in between her legs, staring towards the ocean and the beautiful sunset while she purred two glasses of wine.

"This is wow" you muttered, not yet leaning into her body as you were still moody at her but still admiring the work and view. It was indeed very romantic, rose petals and candles decorated everything around the two of you.

"I‘m sorry for avoiding you" Alexia started, loosely wrapping her free arm around your midsection, "i didn‘t mean to act weird. I was here with the girls to practice this- they helped me to set everything up and encouraged me for what I’m about to do. Ingrid decorated, Frido made the snacks and well, Mapi carried everything while I was freaking out at home because I didn’t know what to wear. I‘m sorry for letting you think i want to break with you or for acting weird, i was just really nervous these past weeks" she put her wine glass down in the sand, making sure it wouldn‘t fall before she pulled something out of her pocket, "I’m always nervous when I’m around you but this time it was different. I was scared of getting rejected and in return, I rejected you without even realizing."

Hidden in her hand, she gave you her little 'present' - a key.

"I would like you to move in with me." she breathed out, her heart racing.

You turned in her hold, looking at her with wide eyes.

"You‘re sleeping at my apartment almost every day and i can barely sleep without you being in my arms, so i thought maybe you would like stay at my place every night from now on" she rambled, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

The widest grin broke out on your face and you kissed her - you had been wanting to bring up the topic since awhile now, yet always feeling too shy to do so as you knew Alexia loved her personal space and alone time. You didn’t want her to feel pressured or to feel like she had to agree.

But now you’re even happier that the idea and suggestion came from her - she wanted this too - she was ready for the next step.

"I’d love to" you answered, kissing her rapidly as she giggled while you did so.

"I‘m glad" she sighed in relief, puckering her lips once again.

More kisses, please

You happily accepted the key.

The key wasn’t just any key, it symbolized that it was the key to her heart and home, that communication was the key to happiness, and that her nervousness couldn't always open all doors - which she had realized now;

Spending the whole at training without you was horrible. She never wanted to experience that again.

-

As your little picnic date continued (both of you back at being sickeningly in love with each other) the sun almost down completely, a question popped up in your head, "Mapi doesn’t have a problem with me, does she?"

A loud hearty laugh escaped your girlfriend, "no, amor, you‘re perfect. When you called me the girls were with me and I panicked and Mapi was signing something, so that‘s what came to my mind with her wild gestures. I‘m sorry if it sounded rude. Everybody loves you and you are very much a part of the group, my favourite member in fact"

Weirdly, you could imagine Mapi way too well and Alexia never lied to you. Added to that she was a horrible liar, her brows slightly raising when she lied or was trying to.

You believed and trusted her. It all made sense now - you remember how nervous she was when she asked you out on a date, you remember how nervous she was when she actually took you out, also how nervous she was when she asked the girlfriend question and how nervous she was just today.

You could only imagine how nervous she would be if she ever decided to ask you to be her wife.

Which Alexia definitely would do.

She would always be nervous around you, it‘s you - you‘re way too perfect for this world, so Ale had every right to be nervous every day anew - you were the key to all her happiness.

[wake-me-up-inside-imagines]

Ok, I just read your sweet yandere post and would like to add something.

I love the idea of like a mafia boss yandere or someone who is usually cruel (like maybe a Hades sort of character) but is an absolute sweet heart to their darling. One of my fave tropes

OOOOOOH I LOVE THIS TROPE! I have a character who's just like this actually, a total sweetheart to whoever he's with but has a very low tolerance for most other people.

Sorry, this is a long one lol

I'm gonna make headcanons now because you've inspired me lol.

(Banner/divider credit goes to @cafekitsune)!

Tw: Kidnapping, mentions of violence

Mafia boss! Charlie who is no stranger to violence. He's lived his entire life surrounded by it, in fact. Having a mafia boss for a father will do that to you, he guesses.

Mafia boss! Charlie who's spent his whole life working for the mafia, being trained to kill, smuggle, and deal ever since he was a child. He grew up living a life of crime, rising up the ranks (thanks to his father), before taking over as the boss when his father was killed by an unruly client.

Mafia boss! Charlie who's a cruel, ruthless man. He's killed dozens of people, injured many more, and runs his organization with an iron fist. He may be young, but he's learned enough to know that any show of trust, any display of kindness is a show of weakness, a show of vulnerability. He can't afford that, not when he's the head of the mafia, so he makes sure to make it so that no one will question or challenge his authority by any means necessary.

Mafia boss! Charlie who has very few real friends, keeping those he does have at an arm's length. He'd rather die than admit that he craves real relationships, that he desires to make genuine, true connections with others. But he can't, so he pushes his wants to the side, reminding himself that his only purpose is to keep his business running smoothly, nothing more.

Until he sees you, that is.

Mafia boss! Charlie who meets you out on a grocery run one day. Your interaction is nothing special, at least to you, but Charlie can't help but marvel at how easily you make conversation with him while ringing up his items, how seemingly unfazed you are by his snappy attitude and unapproachable appearance. It's been a long, long time since he's met anyone unafraid of him, and those people are usually rivals who are too cocky for their own good. So this, this is new. He knows it's stupid, he knows that your tiny interaction shouldn't have mattered much to someone like him, but he can't help but feel giddy about the connection he's sure he felt.

Mafia boss! Charlie who, against his better judgment, wastes no time in trying to find out who you are. It's not hard, he has an entire organization full of trained trackers, stalkers, and informants at his disposal, and by the end of the day, he has your full name, address, social media accounts, family tree, medical records, and much more safely in his welcoming hands. He knows this is a bit overkill considering he only met you today and your interaction lasted five minutes at most, but now that he has a taste of real human interaction, he's addicted. He needs more.

Mafia boss! Charlie who quickly becomes awestruck and obsessed with you. His whole life, he's been surrounded by the craftiest, cruelest, most violent people imaginable, so to see someone, especially someone as precious as you, live a completely normal life, naive to the dangers he faces everyday? It's captivating! Of course, he can't follow you all day, he is a mafia boss after all, but he has enough people following you around and recording your every move that he doesn't need to! He's never been happier to be who his is than now.

Mafia boss! Charlie who thinks you're the most beautiful person in the world. You're a sweet little thing, too gentle and too unaware of the dangers around you for your own good. He loves everything about you, no matter how weird or embarrassing. He's content to watch you carefully for a couple months, but as time goes on, his need to feel our touch, to talk to you, to see you face to face is too much. He needs you. He needs you NOW. It doesn't help that you're so vulnerable and weak compared to him, with no knowledge of weaponry or stealth to keep you safe. What if someone were to try and hurt you? Of course, his goons wouldn't let that happen, not if they wanted to keep their organs, but he would feel so much better if he could keep an eye on you personally. Not to mention, every mafia boss needs a spouse, and some of his higher ranking associates have been hinting that it's about time he found someone...

Mafia boss! Charlie who immediately starts planning your "transfer" to his house, meticulously drafting out every last detail to secure your safety. He chooses his best, most skilled employees to carry out his plan, only the best for his darling, and sends them out to bring you "home". That day you come home from work, completely unaware of the people in your apartment, completely unaware of the sleeping pills dumped into your water while you weren't looking.

Mafia boss! Charlie who's ecstatic to finally have you with him, to finally have someone to hold, to talk to, to love. He brings your unconscious body to your new room, laying you softly on the bed while instructing his employees to pack up all your belongings and bring them to him. He doesn't tie you down or chain you up, he has enough security measures in place to make sure you won't be able to escape. You won't even be able to leave your room without him being notified.

Mafia boss! Charlie who watches the camera in your room as you wake up for the first time in your new home, confused and disoriented. All of your stuff is here, but this is NOT your apartment. Where are you? He watches as you start to freak out, guilt flashing through him for the first time in his life. He doesn't want you to be scared, he just wants to keep you safe!

Mafia boss! Charlie who sends one of his gentler employees into your room to explain everything, too afraid of scaring you even further by showing up himself. He waits a few days before revealing himself to you, when your terror has calmed down and you've become more familiar with your surroundings. He kind of just stands there, unable to formulate a sentence, which is extremely unnerving to you. You've been told you're to be married to a highly respected and violent mafia boss, and here he is, just...staring. When he opens his mouth to speak, your surprised at how soft his voice is, calmly explaining to you that you're safe, you won't be hurt. He reaches out his hand to touch you, but recoils when you flinch, not wanting to push you.

Mafia boss! Charlie who does everything he can to make you more comfortable and less afraid of him, getting you anything and everything you've ever shown interest in, giving you as much space as you need, and letting you roam the rather large house freely. All you can't do is leave. He doesn't understand why you're still so scared, sure he's a criminal, but he promised he would never hurt you!

Mafia boss! Charlie who gets more desperate for your love as time goes on. He starts appearing in whatever room your in, softly talking to you about his day or about whatever you're doing, trying to get you to be more comfortable with him. Once you've gotten used to that, he starting slowly initiating physical contact, holding you in his arms like he's never going to let you go (because he won't). He tried his hardest not to push your boundaries, but eventually his need to be near you becomes too great. Rest assured though, he would never, ever dream of hurting you or purposely scaring you.

Mafia boss! Charlie who can't get enough of the feeling of your skin on his. He starts hugging/cuddling you whenever he can, holding you like you'll break if he presses too hard. He's always near you, cuddling up to you while telling you about how much he loves you, adoration shining in his eyes. He's the clingiest at night though, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you fall asleep, him watching over you until he succumbs to his own tiredness. And his kisses? They are the softest, fluffiest thing you've ever felt. He cannot get enough of your lips, and he always kisses you passionately, like you'll disappear once he separates from you. With how loving and gentle he is, it doesn't take long for you to start loving him back.

Mafia boss! Charlie who starts giving you more privileges the farther you fall into stockholm. He'll even start taking you out in public on dates once he thinks there's no chance of you trying to escape him. He'd be able to find you if you did, he has many, many connections, but he trusts you won't. He loves going out with you and doing normal, coupley things with you, it's a nice break from his usual, violent life.

Mafia boss! Charlie who is insanely protective of you, never leaving you alone in a room with anyone except for himself. He knows how dangerous it is to be associated with him and now that he has you, he refuses to let anything happen to you. Any rival who attempts to hurt, kill, or kidnap you is met with Charlie himself, who enacts the most brutal, torturous death he can possibly think of on them. Nobody will come close to hurting you, he'll make sure of it. But no matter what happens, he'll always make sure you're far, far away from the violence. He never wants to subject you to the horrors he's seen (and done).

Mafia boss! Charlie who feels awful the first time you hear him raise his voice. It wasn't at you of course, he would never, ever think of yelling at his darling, you just happened to be in the room when he was meeting with one of his associates. It's scary seeing him yell, threatening brutal acts of violence on his own employee, and for the first time you realize how different he is with others than he is with you. He's quick to shut the meeting down once he realizes you're there, spending the rest of the night apologizing to you and assuring you he would never speak to you like that. This'll be the first time he truly opens up about what his job is like and why he has to be as cruel as he is, trying to help you understand why he behaved the way he did. It's difficult for him to make himself vulnerable, but he'd gladly to it if it meant easing your mind. From then on, he makes absolute sure you aren't around whenever he has to take care of business. He refuses to let you see him like that ever again.

Mafia boss! Charlie who never lets you forget how much he needs you in his life. You're the only thing keeping him from devolving into insanity, he wouldn't know how to handle himself if you were gone. He'll give you everything and anything if you listen to him and stay by his side, so please... please don't try to leave him.

Not that you would be able to, anyway.

[mya-valentine]

Teasing in Silence

Synopsis: Wanderer’s usually teasing and confident girlfriend suddenly grows quiet, leaving him unsettled and worried that she no longer wants to be with him. As her silence stretches on, he steps out of his usual detached demeanor to give her more attention, only to discover she was afraid her teasing had pushed him away. In the end, they both realize their love doesn’t need to change, and they accept each other as they are.

The sun was setting over the rolling hills of Sumeru, casting a warm, golden hue over the land. Wanderer and his girlfriend had made it a habit to explore the wilderness together—him, ever the aloof and quiet presence, while she was the teasing, confident counterpart that kept things lively. She loved poking fun at him, playfully commenting on how stiff he was or how his expression rarely changed from its usual brooding look.

"You know, you should smile more often, Wanderer. Might make you a little less terrifying," she'd often say, a grin tugging at her lips.

And Wanderer, who had never been one to let people get too close, somehow found comfort in her teasing. Her confidence, her light-hearted jabs, the way she never took anything too seriously—it all balanced out the weight of the world he carried.

But today was different.

They were walking along a familiar path through the forest, the same one they'd taken dozens of times before. Normally, she'd be chattering away, throwing in her usual playful remarks, but today, she was silent. She walked a few steps behind him, her gaze fixed on the ground. There was no teasing, no quips about his serious expression or how he always seemed to be lost in thought.

Wanderer glanced back at her, frowning slightly. It wasn't like her to be this quiet. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice its usual calm, controlled tone.

She blinked, seemingly snapped out of whatever trance she had been in. "Hmm? Oh, yeah. I'm fine," she replied, but there was a tightness in her voice, a forced lightness that didn’t quite match her usual carefree attitude.

He didn’t press her further, deciding to give her space. But as the day went on, the tension in the air became palpable. She barely spoke during dinner, her usual teasing absent, and Wanderer found himself growing uneasy. It wasn’t like him to care so much about another person’s mood, but with her… it was different. Her silence felt like a weight pressing down on him.

As the days passed, her strange behavior continued. She wasn’t avoiding him, but she wasn’t herself either. Wanderer noticed the way she hesitated before speaking, how her usual confidence seemed to falter. He would catch her staring at him sometimes, a strange look in her eyes, but when he asked her what was wrong, she would just shake her head and smile that same forced smile.

The more she withdrew, the more Wanderer found himself unsettled. What if she no longer wanted to be with him? What if she had grown tired of his cold demeanor, his inability to express himself like a normal person? He had always been afraid of letting someone in, afraid that they would see the broken, hollow person he was and walk away. And now, it seemed like his worst fears were coming true.

He didn’t know what to do. Normally, he would shrug off feelings like these, bury them deep inside where they couldn’t bother him. But with her, it wasn’t that simple. He couldn’t just ignore the way his chest tightened every time she looked away from him or how the silence between them seemed to stretch longer each day.

Finally, after days of agonizing over it, Wanderer decided to act. If she was pulling away because she thought he didn’t care… he would show her otherwise.

The next morning, he sought her out. She was sitting by the river, her knees pulled up to her chest, staring out at the water. Normally, he would wait for her to come to him, but today, he went to her. Without a word, he sat down beside her, his shoulder brushing against hers. She glanced at him, surprised by the sudden proximity.

"You’ve been quiet," he said, his voice low but filled with an uncharacteristic vulnerability.

She blinked, caught off guard by his directness. "Yeah… I guess I have," she admitted softly, her gaze drifting back to the river.

Wanderer was silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts. This wasn’t something he was good at—talking about feelings, being open. But if he didn’t say something now, he was afraid he might lose her.

"I’ve noticed," he finally said, his tone a little more forceful than he intended. "You’ve been… distant."

Her eyes widened slightly at his words, and she turned to face him fully. "I—what?"

Wanderer clenched his fists, his usual cool demeanor slipping. "I thought…" He hesitated, his gaze flickering away for a moment before he forced himself to meet her eyes. "I thought you didn’t want to be with me anymore."

The words hung in the air between them, heavy and raw. His chest felt tight, and for the first time in a long time, he felt uncertain. She was the one person he had let get close to him, the one person he had allowed to see beyond the mask he wore. The thought of losing her was more terrifying than he had ever anticipated.

For a moment, she stared at him in stunned silence. And then, to his surprise, she burst out laughing. It wasn’t a mocking laugh, but a genuine, hearty laugh that made her shoulders shake. Wanderer blinked, completely thrown off by her reaction.

"What?" he asked, his voice flat with confusion.

She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, still giggling. "I… I thought the same thing about you!" she admitted, her voice breathless from laughter. "I thought you were getting tired of me teasing you all the time, so I backed off because I didn’t want to push you away."

Wanderer just stared at her, processing her words. "You… you stopped teasing me because you thought I didn’t want you around?"

She nodded, her laughter dying down but a smile still on her lips. "Yeah… I thought I was annoying you. So I figured I’d dial it back."

He shook his head, a small, almost exasperated smile tugging at his lips. "You’re ridiculous."

"Hey, you’re the one who thought I didn’t want to be with you," she shot back, grinning now, her usual playful spark returning to her eyes.

Wanderer sighed, leaning back on his hands as he looked up at the sky. "We’re both idiots, then," he muttered.

She shifted closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. "Maybe. But I guess it’s kind of sweet in a weird, dysfunctional way."

For a moment, they sat in comfortable silence, the tension that had been building between them finally dissipating. Wanderer found himself relaxing, the familiar warmth of her presence grounding him.

"I don’t need you to change," she said softly, her voice more serious now. "I like you the way you are. Teasing you is fun, but I don’t want to push you away. I’m happy with you, Wanderer."

He felt something inside him loosen at her words, a weight he hadn’t even realized he was carrying lifting off his shoulders. "I like you the way you are too," he admitted, his voice low but sincere. "Don’t… don’t change that."

She smiled, her hand reaching for his, their fingers intertwining. "Deal."

And just like that, the silence between them was no longer heavy with unspoken worries and doubts. It was a comfortable, peaceful silence—the kind that only existed between two people who truly understood each other.

For once, Wanderer didn’t mind the quiet. He had her by his side, and that was enough.

.

.

.

Masterlist

[kittenintheden]

music to my ears

just a little rainy day eargasm, as one does.

Rating: E Word Count: >1k Content: 18+, elf ears are erogenous zones, touchless orgasm, ear kissing, ASMR, cream dem jeans

---

Rain patters gently on the roof of the tent, the sound a soothing end to an arduous day. Astarion and Tav lounge together purely for the physical affection of it, her arms encircling his shoulders from behind as he sits between her legs, his back pressed up against her.

He still can't quite believe she's agreed to this. No sex? He's never lived in a world like that. But she not only seems willing, she seems eager to discover a dozen new kinds of intimacy.

As if she senses his train of thought, she puts her lips right up to his ear and says, “This okay?”

He hums and arches, feeling a pleasant tingle spread across his scalp and down the back of his neck.

“Is what okay?”

“Are ears okay?” she whispers.

Another wave of tingles passes over him and he grins lazily. “They’re above the waist, aren’t they?” he responds, leaning to the side to give her better access because hells, it really does feel good.

He can feel her mouth move as she hugs him tighter. “Remember you can always ask me to stop if it gets to be too much.”

He chuckles. “What could you possibly do that could be too-”

But then he’s arching again with a gasp as she runs the tip of her tongue up his antihelix all the way to the tip. The wet warmth sends a wash of pleasure straight through him, filling his chest like bath steam and continuing southward to pool behind his navel. His eyes go half-lidded and he swallows.

“Still okay?” she whispers.

Immediately he nods and says, “Yes. I like that. I like that very much.”

“Good.”

He feels her tongue draw over him again, this time behind his ear from base to tip. Then she uses the blunt edges of her teeth to softly scrape back down the outer ridge and he only barely holds back his whine. It’s soothing and erotic in the same moment, contentment and arousal rising in him like the tide.

Inside his trousers, he feels himself growing hard, and it’s not unwelcome. His feet dig into the ground beneath them as he pushes himself back into her, seeking more contact, pressing his back firmly into her chest, and he feels her grin as she places an open kiss to his ear lobe. Brings it into her mouth, gives it a gentle suck.

“Ah,” he breathes, squirming against her as his cock goes fully hard under her attention.

From her position, her own eyes go lustful and glazed as she looks down the length of his body and sees the ridge of him swell and strain against his clothes. Gently, she brings up one hand to play with his hair as she continues to tease his ear with tooth and tongue.

“Pretty,” she whispers in between. “How pretty you are, going weak under me. Who knew your ears were so sensitive.”

He grips her legs tight to either side of him and bites his lip, trying to clear his head enough to respond. “You’re half-elven,” he gasps. “You know exactly… hah… what you’re doing.”

“I do,” she laughs softly. “And you know I know.”

The stimulation continues to coax the flame in his gut, the tension coiling deliciously, making him shudder to the core. She flicks her tongue over his tragus and swirls it into the triangular dip near the pointed tip and he’s panting, panting, nearly writhing against her, using his heels for leverage to push back. His cock twitches, sensitive and untouched, but he feels a crest building nonetheless.

“Would you like to come, dearest?” she whispers right into the center of his mind and he squeezes his eyes shut and whimpers.

He nods, the movement jerky.

“Then come,” she breathes, giving him a hard nip and then a final soothing, firm lick.

His mouth falls open and he all but collapses against her as his hips arch up off the ground and he creams himself, his spend spilling from him in staccato bursts that feel like a brush on the underside of heaven with every pulse. When he’s done, his muscles go slack and he blinks, bleary-eyed, only mildly annoyed somewhere deep in the back of his brain that he needs to get down to the river in short order to wash the trousers he just soiled.

She squeezes him tightly from behind. “Still okay?” she says softly.

“Hnnnnngggggyeah,” he responds.

[aprillikesthings]

The entire plot of She-Ra would be kind of hilarious from the POV of a random Horde soldier the same age/cohort of cadets as Catra and Adora (we know there's more we see on screen whose names we never learn)

Because just imagine

You grow up and sleep in the same bunk room and those two are constantly sharing the same bed, and Adora is at least friendly with everyone but if you're TOO friendly Catra hisses at you and threatens to cut you

Shadow Weaver is obviously obsessed with Adora and using Catra to control her (...and vent her own anger whenever she feels like it), so you just uhhh stay out of that as much as you can

And then one day right after Adora makes Force Captain she disappears and both Shadow Weaver and Catra lose their fucking minds about it, as if there's not dozens of other Horde soldiers, why is it always about Adora

Oh and there's some new tall blonde princess named She-Ra who keeps kicking the Horde's asses?

What do you mean that's also Adora??? THE FUCK???

Oh and look Catra is still weirdly obsessed with her and the two of them seem to start every battle only to run off and fight each other, for fucks sake they should just bang already, you're tired of getting beat to shit because of those two

Anyway at some point Shadow Weaver is gone and then Catra is too, for a while; but oh nope ha ha there she is again

Also at some point some kinda portal thing opens up and everything is HELLA WEIRD and then suddenly everything is back to normal

Except after that Catra's giving orders ALL THE TIME, and she gets meaner and meaner and if anyone tries to talk to her about it they also get shouted at

And then Catra and Hordak disappear, then Horde Prime shows up, and the world almost ends but it doesn't and the Fright Zone is covered in plants for some reason??? Wow the sky is bright without all that pollution. Weird.

And then you find out that the reason the world didn't end is ....Catra and Adora had a make-out somewhere underground and also, now Catra is glued to She-Ra's side and making goo-goo eyes at her

LIKE. The plot of She-Ra would be absolutely batshit from their POV and I can't stop laughing about it, like what do you MEAN I've been sent to fight in battle over and over because these two dipshits couldn't just tell each other they wanted to bang for MULTIPLE YEARS

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

broken trust. [part 4] l Joel Miller

Summary:  you used to be very close, but he broke your heart, now your paths have crossed again

Warnings:  angst, swearing, mentioning about death, a few infected, violence (only a little anger poured out on him), crying, guns

A/N: I have a few words for you. First, I wanted to thank you very much, because every feedback is very important and constructive to me. Second, this part caused me some problems, I hope you will be gentle with me. I read so many fantastic stories from such incredibly talented people at that time, that I couldn't look positive at what I was writing. So my uncertainty is understandable. Third, I would like to write another part and I hope I will succeed, because I would like to end this story in a nice way. I will see what will come of it... Now, I hope you will spend a few nice minutes reading my scribbles. a few people mentioned tagging - @vickie5446 @dreamtofus @missladym1981 🖤 

[PART 3]

Why was it so hard? 

You felt guilty that you couldn't get back on track. You saw that Joel was trying to get closer to you, trying to fix that broken bridge between the two of you, but you knew that you were constantly tiptoeing around the biggest problem.

You felt betrayed.

When Joel Miller disappeared from your life, or rather you wrote yourself out of it, you didn't bother with him. You had to focus on yourself, on finding your place and the role you wanted to play in this world, without him. You pushed him to the back of your mind and moved on.

And now you saw him almost every day. Your heart ached every time you looked at him, when you heard that voice you knew so well. And you hated yourself even more when he made those little gestures that should have moved you. Because he cared about you, right?

For a few days, you had been pretending that things were good between you two, or maybe moderately good. After having a drink at the bar, you talked a few more times. Once Joel even visited you at the clinic and brought you:

"I thought of you." he said uncertainly, handing you a small, fresh loaf of bread wrapped in a cotton towel.

You both kept circling each other, keeping up all the appearances and pretending that everything was fine. And you felt everything inside you boiling.

And what should you have said? 

When Tommy asked who was going on the next patrol and you volunteered, Joel was right behind you. You were hoping that getting out of Jackson would give you a little time to clear your head, you didn't need that kind of company. But you didn't say a word, because what were you supposed to say... 

"You okay?" You nodded, packing your bag with water and something to eat.

“It's just a headache.”

You wanted to avoid looking directly at Joel, even though you knew he was watching you. In a strange way, his presence was making you more and more nervous.

You felt that all it would take was a spark to explode everything inside you. But you wanted to avoid it. There was nothing good about it.

The day was cold, although the weak sun was trying to break through the thick clouds. You took careful steps on the forest floor, trying to let your thoughts wander lazily. Joel was walking a dozen or so steps away from you. Sometimes you looked at him.

It was a strange feeling. You knew him. You knew every inch of his body. No one was as close to you as he was, no one knew what he knew about you. You trusted him then and in some way, you trusted him now. But everything between you was torn and you didn't know if there was any point in fixing it.

Joel raised his hand and you stopped, looking around carefully. He pointed out something in front of you, some movement, and after a moment you smiled at the sight of a deer with cubs. They moved uncertainly through the forest, but although neither of you moved, they must have sensed your presence, because after a moment, they ran away, startled. 

You didn't notice Joel approaching you, your gaze still wandering between the trees.

"You seem so absent." he said. "Because of me?"

"Sometimes." you replied, adjusting your bag a bit so as not to look at him again. "Or maybe I've just always been like this."

"You weren't like that. You know… I don't expect things to be like they used to be between us."

"Good. Because it never will be." you interrupted him. "Can we go now?"

"This is Y/N. She will lead you to this area." The old man pointed at you.

"Have you ever been there?"

You looked at the man who asked this question. He didn't say much from the beginning, but he justified everyone with his gaze. He gave the impression that he thought he was much better than you and it was no wonder that you didn't like him from the first moment.

"More times than you, for sure." You replied and pulled a map of the building out of your pocket.

"Is this the evacuation plan for the building?" he asked with interest and leaned over the table.

"Smartass." You mumbled and pointed to the locations you were interested in. "A few walls in this building have collapsed, but we can get through, although it's quite tight."

"And you can handle this?"

This man was getting annoying.

"You definitely won't get through." You replied. "That's why you need me."

"How many infected?"

"Less than in other places. If we do it quickly and quietly, they won't even notice us."

He folded his arms across his chest and looked at the map spread out on the table. The old man looked at you uncertainly, and you sighed.

"You don't have to marry me, just decide if you want me to take you there."

"You wanted someone to take you there, and I say - she will."the old man added, "I wouldn't risk it with anyone else if I were you."

The man finally nodded and extended his hand to you.

"Joel."

You shook his hand.

The room was dimly lit, and rubble was strewn across the floor. Joel held his gun at the ready, listening for any noise, but the building was quiet. A few minutes ago, you had slipped into the space between the collapsed wall and what used to be the door to the medicine warehouse.

No noises came from there either.

"Y/N?" he muttered quietly towards the crack where you had disappeared, "Y/N?"

Nothing, not a sound.

Shit!

"I wouldn't risk it with anyone else." he sneered at the old man's words, "Fuck! Y/N? Is everything okay?"

Suddenly, a bag fell out from between the collapsed walls and landed right at Joel's feet. Then he noticed your hand and the rest of you as you squeezed back in.

"I had to rummage through the shelves a bit." you said, picking up the bag and showing him its contents. "But I think I have everything. It's a real mess there."

"Have you started cleaning up?"

"A simple 'Thank you' would have sounded better." you snapped. "I got you some Viagra. Maybe it'll cheer you up."

You could see he wanted to say something, he even opened his mouth, but he just shook his head in disbelief and headed for the door.

You got to the ground floor and from there to the back exit. Everything was going perfectly. You could already see the door when suddenly an unexpected sound broke the silence. You looked at Joel, he must have kicked something metal.

"Fuck." you hissed when an unnatural noise echoed in the room next door.

Joel aimed his rifle at the door, and you quickly reached for your weapon. You started to head faster towards the door, but at that moment many things happened at once. The door on the other side opened and two clickers fell out.

You stopped, remembering that the noise could have directed them to you. You felt Joel's hand tighten on your wrist, he slowly headed for the exit. However, you didn't notice the glass on the floor and with the next step, the clickers rushed at you.

Joel aimed, but his rifle didn't fire.

"Fuck!"

The second monster rushed at you with a scream, but you didn't hesitate. You aimed and fired a few times. The noise echoed through the hall.

Joel kept trying to cock the rifle, cursing under his breath. You knew you couldn't leave him like that.

"That was stupid." he hissed again as you walked towards QZ.

You didn't answer. He repeated it every now and then like a kind of mantra. You managed to get out of the building, that was the most important thing, and you didn't see the point in going back to it.

"You said there were no infected there." he muttered, catching up to you.

"I said there were fewer of them than elsewhere. They must have come recently." you replied calmly.

"How many times have you been there before?"

"I don't know." you shrugged, "A few."

"Do you go there alone?"

You looked at him, surprised.

"What? Do you think I take guys there on dates? Don't be ridiculous." you snorted, "It's business."

"What you did was stupid." Joel growled again.

"If you think saving your life is stupid then do me a favor, go and get bit by one of them and I'll gladly shoot you in that pompous head!"

Joel didn't say anything, but he followed you. You impressed him, and that rarely happened.

"Would you like to have a drink with me?" he asked some time later as you sat down to look through what you had brought.

"Are you still going to be so grumpy?" you smiled.

Joel felt like an uninvited guest in your life, at least in the life you created for yourself after you left QZ. And although at first it seemed to him that you took your reunion really well, now he felt like you were thousands of miles away from him, even if it was just a few steps.

He could see your back, but it felt like your thoughts were echoing through the forest and hitting him straight. Your silence told him more than a thousand words that could have been said.

You were so lost in your head that even when Joel stopped for a while you didn't stop walking.

Did that mean he had lost you completely? Did he lose you when everything he had done came to light? Did he lose you because he only wanted you to be safe, because he didn't want to lose you? Did he ever really have you for himself?

You finally stopped and looked over your shoulder, searching for him with your eyes. God! Joel thought you looked like a wounded animal. And was he the predator?

He found you lying in bed, you smelled of cheap soap and were only wrapped in a towel. He immediately sensed that something was wrong. He knelt down by the bed and in the dim light he saw your reddened eyes.

"Baby, what's wrong?" he asked, pushing back the hair that stuck to your wet cheeks, "What happened?"

He stroked your arm and felt how cold you were.

"How long have you been lying there? You should get dressed, honey." he murmured with concern.

"I can't live like this anymore, Joel..." you whispered.

He looked at you, frowning, but didn't say anything, he didn't want to interrupt you. The words started pouring out of you along with a new flood of tears.

A few days ago you were at work, busy with your own things, but you noticed the new people who appeared in QZ. The guards were leading them to the quarantine area. These were normal procedures for every newcomer. You saw a family there, and a woman in advanced pregnancy.

You didn't care too much about it though. "Normal procedures" you repeated in your mind. But today everything was different. When you had your break you noticed a car carrying bodies. Normal procedures. But nothing about it was normal.

"I saw that woman, Joel..." you sobbed. "It was her. I'm sure of it."

You sat up in bed, completely devastated. Joel held his hands on your neck, he felt your heart rate increase, how you were gasping for breath.

"Maybe it wasn't her." he said uncertainly.

"I know what the fuck I saw!" you groaned "Her belly… the children that were with her... I thought it didn't affect me anymore, that I had seen enough..."

"Baby..."

"I can't forget about her. I came back home. I tore my skin in the shower for so long to wash it all off, but I can't."

Only then did he notice your reddened arms and hands. Joe felt something heavy sink into his stomach at the sight. He had never seen you like this before, so broken, so defenseless.

"You can't think about it." he began calmly. "You're safe here. With me. You know I won't let anything happen to you."

"Her husband must have promised her that too..."

These words hung between you. You were right, you knew it perfectly well. You had risked your lives so many times, but you were still here. Joel thought it was a perfect joke of fate. He didn't question it, though, because the most important thing now was you. He had someone to do all this for.

"I'll get you out of here, I promise." his voice was calm and soothing. "We'll find a way. We'll get out and I'll take you somewhere where you'll be happy."

"I'm happy with you, Joel..." you whispered, staring at him expectantly.

You were ready to accept any of his promises. You would take anything he gave you to feel better, a little more alive. And he gave it to you. Joel gave you the promise of freedom. It might not have been perfect, but it was yours. Just yours and his. The promise that one day you would get out and see more, live more. And be together, because you couldn't imagine any other life than with him.

"Fuck!"

You fell down feeling the small stones cut your hands. For a moment you wondered if you should just stay like that. You probably preferred lying in the middle of the forest with your knees bruised than having to stay stuck in all this.

But this pain was good, somehow. It took you away from all the dark thoughts circulating in your head and from the emotions swirling in your chest. For that one moment, when you were lying on the ground and smelled the forest, all you could hear was your heart beating, you forgot about everything.

And then it all came back with double the force.

"You okay? Here, let me help you." You looked at Joel's hand stretched out towards you. "You have to be more careful. There are a lot of roots here."

"I can handle it." You replied, supporting yourself with your hands and getting up yourself, but then you hissed in pain.

The stones dug deeper into your skin, cutting you even more. Despite everything, Joel grabbed your arm and helped you up, although you immediately moved away from him.

"Did you hurt yourself?" his voice was calm, as if he hadn't noticed your behavior. Or maybe he had and was trying to be gentle with you?

"It's fine." you mumbled, wiping your hands on your jacket. "It's nothing."

"Show me."

"No."

"Why do you have to be so fucking stubborn, Y/N?"

"And why do you have to be so fucking caring?" you blurted out.

Joel watched you carefully as if he was digesting your words, until he finally shrugged.

"I think you know why." he mumbled. "I care about you."

"Oh, really?" you scoffed.

You pulled a bottle of water out of your bag and tried to wash your hands. It wasn't easy, but when he tried to help you again, everything happened in a flash.

"Don't touch me." you snapped, stepping back. "I don't want you to touch me."

"I just want to help you." Joel raised his hands to show that he meant no harm. "You cut yourself, I can bandage it."

"I don't need your help, Joel! I was doing great before you showed up."

"Really? That's where you got that fresh scar on your side? After you were doing great?"

You were furious. You felt your entire skin burning, and Joel's presence only made it worse. You were standing in front of each other again, like when everything he did turned out to be true. You had kept it to yourself for so long that it had to explode.

"I can't look at you." Your voice was clear, though Joel heard you tremble with emotion. "I can't look at you when you try to pretend that nothing happened between us. That now everything will be like it used to be. You betrayed me, Joel. You told me to trust you, and you..."

"I'm sorry." he took a step towards you "You don't even know how much I regretted what I did. Every day, baby..."

"Don't call me that!" you interrupted him quickly.

He sighed and looked down.

"Ever since you left... I didn't think I'd see you again." he continued with a pained voice "Howard said you left town that same night. I didn't know where to look for you."

"Bullshit!" you snapped "Am I supposed to believe that you filled my head with this crap that we'd get out of QZ together, then you took it all away from me and suddenly you wanted to look for me?! Why?! Who was I to you, Joel?! I was just a stupid cunt who crawled to you every night hoping that she meant something to you..."

You couldn't know how much those words hurt him. You could call him anything, curse him, get mad and pull away from his touch, but when you degraded yourself to the role of an object. No, Joel couldn't stand that.

"You were everything, Y/N!" he roared angrily "Are you happy with this?! You were everything to me, and I didn't have the fucking courage to tell you! I was afraid I wouldn't survive if something happened to you. You hated QZ, but you were safe there! And could I provide that to you outside the walls? No!"

"I don't need your protection! I didn't need it before you showed up and I didn't need it after!" you walked up, pointing a finger at him "You were my partner! My lover! My fucking everything! I would have let myself be torn to pieces for you! And you stabbed me in the back! For what reason? Because of concern? Thank you very much!"

"I made a mistake, okay?! I understood it then, but I can't turn back time! What else do I have to do? How much do I have to apologize to you? Hit me if it helps you, I don't fucking care!"

You hit him in the chest with your clenched hand. You were probably surprised yourself, because you immediately withdrew your hand. Joel raised his eyebrows.

"Is that all you can do, babe? I know damn well that you can do it harder."

So you did it again, and again. And Joel didn't even flinch. He knew you had to get all your anger out at him. He saw your tearful eyes and how with each punch you lost your strength, until finally your knees buckled and you sat on the ground, crying loudly.

You reached your limits. You no longer had anything inside you but tears.

And then you felt him next to you again. He sat down. His strong arms wrapped around you, he let you snuggle up to him and just held you as you burst into tears.

[PART 5]

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Wanna Make Purple?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: After one woman takes a look into your studio, she suggests hosting a class so others may enjoy the art of finger painting. Youn thought she wanted to know about the class so she could join. No, it’s her son who walks through the door and turns your world upside down.

Square Filled: diana reid for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Your small studio in the bustling city of Quantico is insignificant but you love it. You’re an aspiring artist who wishes to be featured in museums and have galleries open all over the country. If you work hard enough, you’ll get there one day. If you’re not in your apartment, you’re spending time in your studio that’s completely filled with art supplies, half-finished paintings, sculptures that you never finished, and furniture that’s paint-covered. You’re not a sculptor but you’re taking some classes to get better at it and broaden your artistic scope.

The curtains are open allowing natural sunlight to shine through the windows, and it gives your studio a homely feel to it. Even your apartment has bigger windows than it should because you love letting in natural light. The sun is setting which means it’s time for you to pack up and head back home for the night. You’re cleaning up the supplies you used when you notice someone standing outside the floor-length windows at the front.

The woman immediately leaves when she notices you looking but you don’t think much of it. Many people walk by when you’re in here to admire what you do so you’re not fazed by the woman. However, someone knocks on your door seconds after she leaves. You wipe your hands on your apron and open the door to see the same woman now standing right in front of you.

“Hi, can I help you?”

“Sorry for bothering you but I couldn’t help but notice what beautiful art you have.”

You look back at your art and smile at the compliment. You like to do a lot of things to stay relevant but you feel happiest when you fingerpaint. You love getting down and dirty with the art and using what you have instead of what you can buy to create timeless pieces. Finger painting is more than just putting paint on your finger and making lines. It’s precision and knowing when you use your pinkie instead of your thumb or when you use a knuckle or your palm. You’re in control of every little thing so in the end, you can truly say you gave it all.

“Thank you. I have a lot of fun finger painting. I think more people should do it.”

“Do you offer classes?”

“I never thought about it.”

“Well, I’m here in Virginia for a little while so if you reconsider, I know someone who would be eager to take a class.”

“Thank you. I will think about it.”

The woman leaves shortly after but her suggestion stays in your head long after she is gone. Teaching a class? Do you even have time for that? With school and your own business, you’re not sure if you have the energy to teach a dozen students. If you can, how old should they be? Children or adults? No, don’t be silly. Yeah, adults are going to be a lot easier to work with. Hosting a class whether that be once a week or a few times a week is a huge commitment, but you always said more people should be finger painting.

A few weeks go by until you’ve convinced yourself that teaching a small class would be beneficial for you. If you can put that on your resume, it shows commitment and willingness to work with a team. Thousands of people are following you on social media, so that’s how you reach out to everyone that you will be teaching a small class on a trial basis. If it works, great. If not, then you won’t lose any sleep over it.

Dozens of people around the country wish they could be in Virginia to attend your class. If all goes well, you might be able to visit other places and teach more people. One thing at a time, Y/N. The ones that are local have expressed interest but none of the people online look like the woman who met you that evening in your studio. You’re not sure how to get ahold of her or if she has social media and thankfully, you don’t need to deal with it.

The woman walks past your studio while looking at her phone, and you leave to catch up to her before she is gone forever.

“Ma’am?” She turns and stares at you as if she’s trying to remember who you are. “Hi, you stopped by my studio a few weeks ago. You asked me if I was teaching any classes.”

“I did?” Something crosses her eyes and she smiles immediately. “Of course, I did! Have you reconsidered?”

“Yeah. I’m actually putting together a class this weekend.”

“Oh, that’s fantastic!”

“It’s at my studio at two in the afternoon on Saturday.”

“Perfect. Thank you for telling me.”

“Sure. I hope to see you there.”

You two part ways shortly after that, and you go back to prepping your studio to fit at least half a dozen people. You want them to have their own space so you spread out the canvases evenly throughout with a side table for them to keep their paints. Saturday comes quicker than you think and before you know it, your studio is filled with everyone who signed up for it. The woman you met isn’t here and you’ve been trying to find something to do to stall time, however, you’re already running ten minutes past two.

It sucks but you’ll have to start without her.

“Alright, thank you all for coming. I appreciate your eagerness to finger paint. No, I promise you that this isn’t like most finger painting is.” The door opens and a very tall and lean man walks in wearing jeans, a white shirt, a sweater vest over that, and a tie tucked between them. “Hi.”

“Sorry to interrupt but my mother signed me up for this class. Are you Y/N?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m Spencer Reid.”

“Well, Spencer, take a seat. There’s one in the back.”

“Thanks. Sorry for being late.”

Spencer scurries to the back of the class and takes a seat, and you continue what you are saying.

“As I was saying, finger painting is so much more than putting paint on your fingers. I’ll have another class next week to go more into it but I want you guys to get used to the feel of paint on your fingers. I want you to create lines, and connect them if you want, but for the first ten minutes or so, I want you to really get used to the idea of not using paintbrushes. Use any color you like and begin.”

Everyone chooses the color they want and squirts the paint onto the palette on the small desk next to the easels. Two girls in the front giggle like schoolgirls at getting down and dirty with the paint while two men are apprehensive about getting their fingers dirty.

“Don’t worry about getting paint everywhere. It’s washable.”

Everyone seems to be in good spirits and you give encouraging words where you can. You approach Spencer who is having a hard time keeping paint long enough on his fingers to create a straight line.

“Having trouble?”

“A little, I guess. I just…”

“Just what?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s okay if you don’t like finger painting. It’s not for everyone.”

“No, it’s not that. I don’t get the point of finger painting. It’s messy and unpredictable and it’s hard to control what the paint is going to do.”

“Really? You think finger painting is childish?”

“Yeah.”

“Clean your hand. Let me show you something.”

Spencer does as he’s told while you squirt green, blue, and pink paint onto the palette. You grab Spencer’s hand and barely dip two of his fingers into the blue and two into the pink. You press his fingers to the canvas lightly, creating little dots that will represent the petals on a lavender flower. Once done, you have him clean his hand so you can create the stems of the flower.

“See? Finger painting is more than just putting paint on the canvas. It’s about manipulating the art as a whole and controlling every aspect of it. Brushes are different. They might have benefits that this way doesn’t but I’ve always found it harder to control a brush than it is my own fingers.”

“Impressive,” he says, looking deep into your eyes.

Spencer is in awe of your work. He doesn’t know what to say to this. He doesn’t mind being proven wrong. In fact, he finds it very attractive when someone can outsmart him. Someone calls your name and you leave Spencer’s side to help her out, but Spencer can’t take his eyes off you.

Throughout the entire class, Spencer has a hard time focusing on painting because he can’t help but notice you. He keeps asking for help knowing he can do it but he really wants to feel you right next to him holding his hand. You don’t mind. Spencer is the most attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on.

It doesn’t hurt to play a bit.

After the hour is over, everyone clears out of your studio, eager for the next one. If all classes are like this, you might consider doing this more often. Spencer is the last one out but instead of leaving like he should, he closes the door so that it’s only you and Spencer alone.

“Good job today. With a few more classes, you’ll be an expert.”

“You’re the expert, not me.”

He gathers everyone’s paint tubes and places them in the box at the front of the class while you grab the palettes that you’ll clean later. You and Spencer meet at the last easel but neither of you pick anything up.

“You got a little something…” He gestures to his own lips. “You got red paint on your lips.”

“Like I said, it’s washable. It’ll come off with a shower. Plus, it’s non-toxic so it can get in your mouth and it won’t hurt you.”

“Good to know.”

He takes two steps closer to you and you’re suddenly aware of how tall and handsome he is. Your eyes shift down to his lips and you smirk slightly.

“You got blue on your lips.”

“Wanna make purple?”

You don’t have to answer him. Pulling him in and pressing your lips to his is a good enough answer in and of itself. Spencer pulls you closer by your hips and you wrap your arms around his neck. Damn, he’s even a good kisser. Whoever his mom is, you gotta thank her for bringing her son to your class.

x

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[cobaltperun]

Eternal Flame (14) - Fighting Myself

Jenna Ortega x Female Reader

Summary: For her it’s a passion, for you it’s an accident. And as she continues shining brighter and brighter with each role you are left mesmerized, drawn to her flame and cherishing every time she lets herself be vulnerable with you.

Spotify playlist

Masterlist / First Part / Previous part / Next Part

Word Count: 6.4k

-I don't want you to promise you can change everything and make it better-

Turns out working again was the best choice Jenna could have made. It certainly kept her mind off of you and made her busy, meaning she had less time to miss you. Yet still, after a long day of shooting, she still went back to her room and wished you were there with her in some way. At the very least to hear your voice, to come back to her room and maybe open the messages and find you've sent her an audio message, or just a text message or anything really, if not outright have a phone call with you. But despite her own wishes to once again see you, and your own desires to fix things, the two of you remained separate, with no contact whatsoever for over a month and a half now.

So, to put her mind at ease and help her fall asleep a bit faster, Jenna got into a bit of a habit. She sat down, pulled out a piece of paper and grabbed a pen, and she began writing a letter that would never reach the one it was addressed to. She put her thoughts on the paper, working through her feelings in a way, and by now she had a clear picture of what was going on in your head back then.

And she truly felt that what Enrique had told her two weeks ago was right, that at the end of the day that choice was nothing but an unhealthy coping mechanism. More importantly, that not only would you never hurt her, there probably wasn't anyone then she could feel safer with. In her heart Jenna felt like you not only stand by her and support her through anything for as long as she wanted you in her life, but also be protective of her in a way she sometimes craved.

This was a lonely job, filled with so many unpleasant experiences, and every now and then Jenna just wished she could have someone who understood it and who she could feel emotionally safe with. That was the kind of protectiveness she craved, to have someone take her heart help shield it from the rest of the world as she did the same for that person. And she wanted that someone to be you.

Thus, she kept writing, and she was somewhat thankful that her writing was kind of difficult to read, even for herself, because she was bearing her heart out on these pages. She usually only wrote about a page and a half per letter, she didn't even think much about what to write, the words just flowed through her, materializing on the white paper until she just had nothing left to write. Once she was done for tonight, she folded the paper and took an empty envelope putting the letter inside and sealing it away.

She wondered what you were doing right now. She guessed you were probably sleeping, since it was the middle of the night in New York, where you probably were right now filming The Daughter with Hugh. But that didn't stop Jenna from still wondering how you were doing, if you were maybe dreaming about something, or if you ever dreamt about her like she so often dreamt about you. She sometimes dreamt of the days spent filming Scream, and sometimes her dreams were about things she wished would happen in the future. Jenna lost count of how many times she dreamed of reuniting with you; those dreams were always the most beautiful while they lasted and despite reality being different, she always woke up from them feeling happy and hopeful for the future.

She got up and put the sealed envelope in her bag next to about a dozen and a half letters already written, never to be sent to you.

~X~

You were sitting in a chair going through the lines of the next scene you had with Hugh; the filming was about a third of the way done and you were actually moving quite quickly with it. Much quicker than you, or anyone else, imagined you would. Hell you were several days ahead of the schedule because you and Hugh just kept nailing the scenes and Florian’s approach really worked for both of you.

It wasn’t just that though, it all felt real. Considering everything you and Hugh went through it was very easy to just tap into this father-daughter relationship that was strained and somewhat fractured, but still there. This idea of not knowing how to approach one another and still at the same time not knowing how to express yourself felt familiar, and in some moments, you almost felt like you weren't acting at all.

“You ready?” Hugh said as he patted you on the shoulder and you grinned, doing your best to lift his spirit as well, because you've had some tough scenes over the past few days.

“Ready whenever you are,” you hopped to your feet and left the script on the chair.

“Let's do this,” you went and took your positions, and soon enough you heard the signal to start.

As Hugh watched over the baby brought in to play Theo, you slowly came in “Dad, do you have a moment?” you asked slowly, speaking as quietly and with as much uncertainty as you could.

“Yeah, of course. I'm just trying to get him to fall sleep,” Hugh whispered back. “What's up?” he asked, rocking the bed slightly.

You stepped closer glancing at the baby with a hint of softness in your eyes, a genuine fondness could be seen in your expression, and it was something you, Hugh and, Florian figured out. Nicole was supposed to show this kind of softness only to her baby brother, showing that despite being hurt by what her father did she neither blamed nor resented the boy. “I was thinking about school,” you nervously brushed the few strands of your hair back.

“You're anxious about it, it's understandable. But you'll do great, you're a bright kid, Nicole, give it a bit of time and you'll be caught up before you even know it,” Hugh said almost dismissively and your jaw tightened at that, but he wasn't paying attention, he was busy with the baby.

“Wouldn't it be better to wait for September? It's the middle of the year,” you still tried, raising your hand slightly, but then letting it drop.

“That's nonsense, going to school will be good for you! It'll all be fine, you’ll meet new people,” he said as he gave up on rocking the bed instead lifting the baby into his arms. Yet you just looked away and sighed quietly. “What is it now? You'll be fine, you just need to put some effort into it.”

“Dad, I just don't want all these people's attention on me. I'm transferring in the middle of the year, everyone will look at me and ask questions,” you tried to explain yourself, putting more effort into your body language than the tone of your voice. You kept your tone a bit more even, resigned, but your body language was jittery. “And I don't have the answers.”

“They’ll just be curious.”

“That's exactly what I'm telling you!” you spread your hands cutting him off in a slightly sharper tone, but Theo began crying and you both fell silent.

“It's OK, it's OK,” Hugh cradled the baby, calming him down and you just took a couple of steps back.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to make him cry,” you said while covering your eyes.

“I know,” Hugh’s voice softened as you just leaned back against the wall and pressed the back of your head against it. “Why are you so nervous about this? Why did you even stop going to school in the first place? I keep asking you that and you never even explained it to me,” he sounded tired, which was exactly what Florian wanted. He wanted Hugh to progressively get more frustrated, he wanted that from both of you, and you were giving him that.

You let out an exasperated sigh and quickly looked around the room, just for a moment adding your own flare to the scene. “I've been telling you, I don't know how to explain it. I just I can't take it,” your voice cracked at the exact same spot it was meant to, and you didn't even need to act it out, it just naturally cracked right there.

“Try telling me in your own words then. What can't you take? What happened at your old school?” Hugh tried, he reached out, and you just shook your head.

“I’m trying, dad, but I don't know what to tell you. I can't even explain it to myself, I just feel like I'm suffocating. Dad, I don't know what is wrong with me,” the desperation slipped into your voice as you just for a moment almost reached out to him, and for a moment it almost felt like you would, like your character was just about to open her mouth and ask for help she desperately needed.

“Was Theo crying just now?” and then Vanessa came in, breaking whatever momentum the two of you had.

Hugh looked surprised, as if he just remembered he still had a baby in his arms. “Yeah, don’t worry, I’ve got him,” then he turned to you. “We'll talk later, OK? And you're going to school on Monday, trust me, it’ll be good for you,” and you looked like you were about to argue but you just let resignation show on your face as you walked past Vanessa and out of the room.

“Cut!” and the scene ended, and you could finally properly breathe again.

“Holy shit, this is intense!” you exclaimed, and by now it really looked like this was taking its toll on you and Hugh. You were both genuinely struggling with what was going on here. In every scene you shot you could both recognize the moments where just one tiny difference would have changed the conclusion of the movie, and you knew where you were heading. You were heading toward the tragedy where Nicole takes her life, and right in this scene you felt that if your character was a bit more open, or if Hugh’s character was a bit more attentive, or if Vanessa's character just didn't come in, that maybe it would have been the point where things could have changed.

“You can say that again,” Hugh sat down on the sofa in the living room of the apartment you were filming in while you went to the fridge to grab water for the three of you.

“Forget action scenes, I could do them all day long, but damn am I happy we do this only a few times,” you handed the bottle to Vanessa and then want to Hugh and leaned against the back of the sofa. “Maybe we could do more, today, maybe something lighter?” you asked Florian and then turned to Hugh and Vanessa. “If the two of you are up for it, of course.”

“It’s up to you and Hugh,” Vanessa said, since she mostly had to show up at times and wasn’t an active participant in most of the scenes.

Hugh thought it over. “I’m down, we could use a lighthearted scene after these past couple of days,” he figured.

“That settles it, the three of you go and get changed and we’ll keep going,” Florian clapped, and you all went to get ready for the next scene.

~X~

On the seventh of March, exactly three weeks after you began filming, and full two weeks ahead of the schedule, you were done filming The Daughter. And it felt incredible to have this behind you. You were emotionally drained, completely exhausted, and all you really wanted was to just fall asleep and go back to Denver tomorrow.

The knocking on your door made you sigh, but you still got up from your bed and put the necklace with Jenna's ring back on. You did it almost instinctively, rather than as a conscious effort, and you dragged yourself to the doors to open them. You weren't sure who you were expecting but you probably should have guessed it was Hugh. He looked just as exhausted as you, sleepless nights plagued both of you during these past weeks, caused by the heavy subject of the movie. The scenes you filmed were the most difficult scenes you have ever done. The scene in Logan where you pretend you were cutting yourself with the claws, the scene where Logan dies, or the heavier scenes from Scream, particularly the one in the hospital, none of them compared to what you had to do. It felt like the movie was pulling all the things you desperately tried to ignore about yourself to the surface.

“Hey,” Hugh leaned on the door frame and forced a small smile on his face, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Can't sleep?” you asked, and he just nodded letting out a heavy sigh carrying all the exhaustion of the past three weeks.

“I just keep thinking,” Hugh paused, and you went and invited him in. You imagined things would have been a lot worse if his family wasn't here. With them here the two of you could have some form of light-heartedness during the nights, they kept both your and Hughes sanity in check. If it was just you and Hugh you doubted you could properly support each other through this.

Hugh came inside and slumped into the chair at the desk, and you just fell back onto the sofa. “You want to talk about it?” you asked, thought your mind wasn’t entirely focused on the conversation. You guessed it was just the final scene you filmed today, where your character broke down and yelled at him and he yelled back, and it just felt way too real and way too raw and you were thankful you didn't have to repeat it.

But instead of talking about himself Hugh looked at you and instead asked: “How are you?”

“I'm fine,” you said, dismissing the question out of habit. You weren't fine, it's been over two months since you last saw Jenna, you've been struggling and though you were adamant on never again fighting, you had to find another way to release all of these emotions.

“Come here. Tell me what's really happening,” his words surprised you, there was a different tone to them. When you sent him a questioning look he gave you a sad smile. “I've been told ‘I'm fine,’ is the biggest lie we tell, so I'm putting it to test. Tell me what's really going on.”

He was right, you did tell a lie. You got up and went to the table, sitting down next to him. “I'm worried. I don't know what will replace fighting for me, it was a form of release and now that I've done two movies and I'm about to take a bit of a break I’m afraid of falling into some other unhealthy coping mechanism,” you said, finally admitting it to someone else as well.

He quietly considered your words, seriously contemplated what you said, what that meant for you. And he took his time, and you patiently waited, knowing he would eventually say something. “I don't,” he began the words getting stuck in his throat. “I don't know what to do,” your eyes widened at that, you've never heard him say that, hell, you never heard any adults in your life say that. At least the ones important to you. “I don't want to make this about myself,” he tried to backtrack, but you put your hand on his shoulder.

“Finish that sentence, don't hold anything back,” you weren't even sure where that came from, but if there was one thing this movie thought you, and probably Hugh as well, it was that people should talk, should be more open about what they felt. And if your own life taught you anything it was that if you didn't take the chance to be open with loved ones, you might never get another one.

“I don't want to lose you, yet I don't know how to help you,” he admitted as tears filled his eyes and all you could do was just sit there and watch, almost unable to breathe. “I've done those scenes with you and all I could see were my kids, and all I could think about was if I was good enough for the three of-“ he stopped, both of you halting completely at the number he chose.

“Three?” you repeated, your voice hoarse and shaky as his lower lip trembled. “You said three,” you said again, a bit harsher than you intended.

“You as well. I consider you my child,” Hugh told you and you just stood up, your chair scraping against the floor as you backed away, burying your fingers into your hair as you took several deep breaths. He got up and reached out to you, only to stop just as he was about to touch you, as if afraid that if he did he would only make things worse.

Your mind was in complete chaos, you found yourself caught in the whirlpool of emotions threatening to pull you under and drown you. This wasn't the emotion you were prepared for. Deep down, subconsciously, you were aware of it, you were feeling that warmth, and you knew he was more than capable of looking at you like that. Yet… “I can't give that back to you, I can't call you dad,” you gasped, looking at him as your heart broke over that. “I can't go through that again, Hugh. I already lost my parents once,” it wasn't even about replacing your parents, you knew that wasn't what he wanted. You always considered Hugh as someone like a father to you. Yet, that one word, that ‘like’ was the key difference. Hugh saw you as his child, you could only see him like a father.

“I don't need you to,” Hugh quickly told you, finally bridging that gap, slowly lowering your hands back down from your head and hugging you. “I understand, and I know how much you care about me. I know how many times you had a fight one night, only to the day after come to the hospital so you could be with me while I was waiting for the results. Always making sure that if somehow Deb and my kids couldn't be there that at least you would be there,” he told you and you gripped the back of his shirt, hugging him tightly. “I don't need you to call me dad to know how you feel,” and that brought you so much relief. “But I-“ he stopped again, now more vulnerable than he's ever been with you. “I need to know how you feel about other things, I want to know what troubles you, or what makes you feel alone, what makes you feel the need to escape. I want you to be vulnerable with me about yourself, I need to know that you can do that.”

And those words, perhaps for the first time in four years, just opened the floodgates. “I thought I was going crazy after their deaths,” you said pulling away and stumbling back to the sofa, not to get away from him, but so your legs wouldn’t fail you.

Hugh sat down next to you, full of understanding, as he put his hand on your back. “In what way?”

“I kept coming back to an empty apartment. Day after day, night after night, I kept being all alone. Thought that I would never again come back to an unlocked apartment, to people waiting for me, or to an apartment that someone else would come back to. I was sixteen and I just buried both of my parents in one day,” tears fell down your face, every word you spoke came out as a sort of a cry for help, often coming out as gasps as you tried to get your breathing under control. “I had you and Barbara, but you had your own lives, your own families, you couldn’t fill that void. I would never again be able to hear their voice, to hear them say my name, or laugh,” you paused, sobbing as you tried to put what you felt into words. “They never even got to see Logan, not even the trailers and they all that time in a coma.”

You felt cold, and you gripped Jenna’s ring, trying to find something to anchor yourself to. You felt like you were once again sixteen, going down the rabbit hole of the numerous studies about comatose patients.

“I kept thinking how they must have been in so much pain after that truck run them over. They must have felt it, and I had no idea how unconscious they were. In the worst moments I wondered if they somehow actually knew what was going on. Asking myself what if they were waiting for me to do something and wake them up? Or worse than that what if they wanted everything to end and I kept putting them through it. That pain must have been unimaginable, and I kept them in that state for two months,” you want it to be judged and punished for failing them, yes, but this was another reason you ended up going back to the fighting. “As unreasonable as it was, in that state I let panic and loneliness and dark thoughts consume my mind, and I felt-“ you clutched your head, tightly shutting your eyes. “I felt like I tortured my parents to death by keeping them alive in so much pain.”

And Hugh was unable to come up with words to say, he could only hold you tightly, grounding you, anchoring you to the hotel room you were in so you wouldn't slip back into that state of mind. He sensed you weren’t done talking.

“And then, right before I went back to fighting, that man, that monster that killed nine people, went and pleaded insanity, and instead of being locked away in prison for the rest of his life he got sent to psychiatric ward,” you spat out, anger rising within you again. “My parents and seven other innocent people died because he got high and lost control over his truck, and he gets to-“ you didn’t finish that sentence, instead focusing back on how you felt. “I was consumed with so much rage and hatred, and I became almost terrified of myself. I hated fighting more than anything else, yet it was the only thing that gave me any kind of release,” that was all that drove you back to the fighting, that insanity caused by loneliness, by isolation and the fear that it would just keep going, by rage at the injustice, and by the fear that you somehow ended up not only not saving your parents but hurting them in your attempts to save them. It all just pushed you back into that world.

“I never wanted to hurt anyone, I never wanted things to turn out this way. I just wanted to find release for all those emotions, just for a moment. To feel the pain that I could explain instead of that thing ripping through my hear,” you knew it wasn't healthy, you knew it was wrong, you knew all of that, yet you needed it desperately to stay as sane as you could be.

“I was terrified when I saw what you did to try and save them,” Hugh began, seeing as you shut up and didn't continue. You just had nothing else to say. “I wasn't terrified of what you were doing, I understood it, I was terrified of losing you, because I had no idea how to handle what you went through. I didn't know what to say to you, I didn't know how to approach you, and it made me unable to talk to you properly. I couldn't get you to open up to me because I had no idea how to be open with you. I thought you needed me to be strong, when you actually needed me to approach you like this, without restraints, without fearing that if I didn't appear strong enough, that you wouldn't open up to me,” you supposed there was some truth in his words, and that that might have been a part of it, but it wasn't all there was to it.

“It wasn't just you,” you raised your head and looked him in the eyes, and you saw nothing but compassion and love. “Neither one of us was ready. You could have been open and vulnerable with me, but I wouldn’t have been ready. I needed to feel like maybe I could have someone by my side like that again.”

“And that was Jenna, wasn't it?” he asked, but it was more of a statement.

You nodded. “While we were filming Scream a lot of things happened between us, and one night I was supposed to go to a fight and Jenna appeared at my door just as I was about to leave. She stopped me and that night I spent hours thinking about everything. I was hoping that maybe one day maybe I could be able to find a place with her that I could call home. That it wouldn't be just a house or an apartment, but home we would come back to no matter how long it took or where our jobs took us,” and you still wished to have that with Jenna.

“You'll have a home again,” Hugh told you and somehow you believed him, and you just hugged him, finally letting all those pent-up emotions out. You were being vulnerable and crying without breaking, just releasing everything that made your heart feel heavy, and he cried with you.

And somehow that hour and a half or however long you spent like that healed you more than anything you experienced over the past four years.

“They would be so proud of you,” Hugh said, and it was a thought you held on to, hoping it was true. “I know this, if they were ever conscious of what was going on while they were in a coma, they would have been happy knowing you were trying so hard to save them. Y/N, if they felt anything when they were dying, they felt your love.”

And you cried like a baby, wailing and sobbing, finally letting them rest in peace and learning to live with their deaths instead of letting it define the rest of your future. “Thanks, pops,” that was as close as you could ever get. You couldn't call him dad or father, but pops would do, and the way Hugh’s breath hitched, and he held you a bit tighter made you know it was worth more than anything.

~X~

Barely twelve hours later you climbed up the stairs to your apartment, your suitcases in your hands and your backpack on your back. You set one suitcase down to grab your keys, since Hugh brought them to you, only to find out that your apartment was once again unlocked. You smiled and swung the doors open. “Barbara, you really need to find another hobby!” you exclaimed, leaving the suitcases at the doors and walking into the living room. You kept your backpack still on your back, after all you had some gifts from your vacation for Barbara in it.

“Nah, this is more fun than any other pastime I could acquire,” she jumped from the sofa and ran into your arms. “Welcome home I missed you so much, you stupid asshole,” right, since she met you Barbara hasn't ever in her life spent two months away from you. Not even when you were filming Scream, which lasted about a month and a half, so this must have been a really big shock for her. “I mean, I let you go get your girl and you not only fail to get the girl you take a trip to Italy before you needed to go, and then take a vacation, leaving me here and then instead of coming back here to talk to me, you go to work. That does it, we're breaking up.”

You laughed at her dramatic monologue. “We can't break up! We aren't together,” you chuckled, and she just swatted you on the arm, a playful smile appearing on her face,

“That's what you are latching on to? Incredible,” she pulled away, shaking her head in disbelief.

“I guess,” you shrugged and pulled her into a one armed hug. “Anyway, how about we go and get some shopping done? I wanna make something for you to eat,” you suggested, actually really eager to get some cooking done, especially since you learnt quite a few tricks on your vacation.

“I did the shopping, I was really bored,” Barbara said and you figured that was good, because you wanted to be in the kitchen right away.

“Great, thanks! I'm just gonna go and freshen up a bit, and I'll be right in the kitchen making us an early lunch,” you said and went to the bathroom. For a moment you caught yourself thinking Barbara had a knack for knowing how you felt, and you guessed that deep down she maybe even subconsciously understood your issues with coming back to an empty apartment. So, she tried her best to create an illusion of coming back home to someone, but it was an illusion broken by stepping into the bathroom and seeing only one toothbrush. You replaced it with a new one because it's been two months. That one toothbrush was just one of the little things that broke Barbara illusion, but you guessed the thought was what counted. Especially since she's been with you through the toughest moments

“Say, Barb!” you called out from the bathroom.

“Yeah, what's up?” she asked from the living room.

“I want to reconcile with your family! Think we could go and see them tomorrow night?” you asked her and were met with silence as you washed your hands and dried them on the towel, a clean one at that, courtesy of Barbara being here. You walked out and saw her utterly shocked.

“You mean it?” she asked and you could see the wide grin spreading on her face.

“Yeah, it's about time I start putting all the broken pieces back together,” and the smile on your face told her everything because it looked almost close enough to the way you used to smile before your parents died.

“YES!” Barbara yelled, spreading her arms up in the air and that cheer was for a lot more than just reconciling with her family.

~X~

You could see Barbara was more nervous than she was in a long, long time and as you stood in front of her family’s apartment. You couldn't blame her, you couldn't tell how this would end, or if you could accomplish what you set out to do, but you would do your best. You would start fixing your life one step at a time.

“We’ll be fine, right?” she asked, for the first time looking uncertain. A contrast to how excited and happy she was when you said you wanted to do this. But now that it was time to do it, she was nervous. “They’re going to flip when I tell them there was no boyfriend, and it was only you.”

You stifled a laugh at that, imagining the looks on their faces. From what Barbara told you they were actually happy that she was serious with someone, and it would turn out that it was just you, and it wasn't even that kind of relationship. “I mean, I had to dress up as a guy when I was fighting, so if you really want me to, I can put on a mask and play pretend,” you suggested just to light up the mood for a bit.

“Oh, hell no! I'm not risking Jenna killing me,” Barbara said and then she suddenly froze as you turned to look at her. “Ah, shit! I should really think before speaking,” she slapped her forehead, and you finally pieced everything together.

“You and Jenna are talking?” you completely forgot about the entire meeting with her parents deal and just focused on Barbara. “Are you fucking kidding me right now? Why didn't you tell me anything? How is she?”

Barbara just blinked a few times, watching you blankly. “Of course that's what you want to know. She settled down with a guy and she's pregnant,” she paused for a moment. “She misses you, dumbass! How do you think she is? She's been asking about you damn near every day!” you sort of shrunk into yourself at those words and flinched. “You needed to fix things with Jenna the moment she comes back, because that girl loves you!”

You leaned back against her door and stared at your feet, nodding quietly and just taking everything Barbara was saying in. “I'm gonna fix it, I'm going to wait until she's back from New Zealand and then I'm calling her. Or maybe I should just show up at her door? Hell if I know! Fuck!” you ran your fingers through your hair, unsure of what you should do or how you should get in contact with Jenna again. If you should text or call her, maybe that wasn't the best option since Jenna got anxious when someone called her, so calling might be off the table. But then so should be going right there to see her, maybe she would be busy, or tired and sleeping, and your head was all over the place but you knew you needed to do something. Because she loved you, and you loved her, and there was absolutely no reason not to fix things between you.

You’d handle her parents somehow.

And then the doors behind you opened and you fell back on your ass, which all things considered, you deserved.

“Oh,” Barbara and Sophia gasped as you landed on your ass and Barbara burst out laughing as you looked back and then up at Sophia and then awkwardly waved at her,

“Hi, nice to see you again,” why did your voice suddenly sound so hoarse.

Barbara's mother looked at you for a few seconds. “Y/N?” she spoke slowly as if she couldn't quite believe her eyes. Of all the ways you imagined meeting up with Barbara's parents again this was not one of the situations you thought would happen. Damn it, you were supposed to knock and slowly approach the reunion instead of going in ass first and falling into their apartment. “Barbara what is going on here?”

“Dear, what's wrong?” and then Richard showed up and looked at you, becoming just as confused as his wife.

“Mom, dad, there is no boyfriend. I've been going to Y/N’s apartment for these past two years,” Barbara told them directly, refusing to do this as if she was pulling teeth, she just went and said it.

You slowly got up and looked at them. “And she's still straight, by the way, it's not like we were in a relationship and trying to hide it,” you assured them because they were concerned about you and Barbara being friends, let alone you and Barbara being in a romantic relationship. They should know their daughter was about as straight as she could be.

“Y/N quit fighting by the way, three months clean now! Wait, can we say clean? Would that be appropriate for this? I never thought about it. Three months punchless? Three months violence-free?” Barbara kept suggesting the different ways they could describe your recovery of sorts.

“I think they get it, Barb,” you said and looked at her parents expecting any kind of reaction.

“And she hasn't hit you in those two years? Hasn't threatened you? Hasn't done anything to hurt you?” her dad asked and despite your best efforts you felt the words getting to you.

Barbara nodded. ”Never even raised her voice, and she put up with all of my bullshit, and all the teasing, and all the complaints about relationships, and all the times I tried to set her up with girls I met. And did I mention that she kind of solved a couple of my problems with some shady guys that wouldn't leave me alone? Because she did!” for once in her life Barbara was rambling and that was a rare sight to see, but you could see she was just as nervous about their reaction as you were.

“And you quit for good?” Barbara's mom asked and approached you, and she just raised her hand and tilted your chin up, only to then smile and push it lower so you would look her in the eyes. Your eyes widened as you were suddenly brought back to your childhood when Sophia would do that to Barbara and you and other kids you hung out. Only she would tilt your chins up because you had to look up at her, and now you were quite a bit taller than her. It was a subtle way she taught you not to lie to her, you would all look her in her warm, understanding eyes and tell the truth.

“I quit. I will never fight again,” you told her honestly and she smiled pulling you in for a hug.

“It's good to have you back, it might take some getting used to having you around again, but it really is good to have you back,” she said and Richard just gave you a thumbs up, trusting Sophia's judgment.

“Thanks,” you said hugging her back. It wasn't a tight hug you were used to, there was some distance still left to be bridged, there was time you needed to make up for, but you took a large step with them right now, and you felt so much lighter because of it.

Taglist: @lilbitdepressed27 @freakshow2501 @osnapitzmel1 @belatrixdragon @ijustlovemaths

@niqmandu @justspance @mirage018 @godamnityess

Masterlist / First Part / Previous part / Next Part

A/N: And with this chapter EF crossed the 100k words.

[yandere-3-sagau]

To Take For Granted 2

Genshin Cult Au x Reader Angst

warning(s): mentions of suicide, therapy, depression, summoning, obsession, yandere

word count: 670

Part 1

—

A lot of time has passed since you’ve been in Teyvat. While the archons and acolytes have been devoutly praying to you for years upon years, you have moved on.

The time you had on Teyvat had really affected you. You decided to go to therapy where you were convinced that your experience was one big hyper realistic dream.

Therapy helped you heal and forget and you eventually moved on with your life.

You had even met someone. Someone who would become your most important person. The apple of your eye.

You’ve gone through several milestones with this person and you were sure you wanted to live the rest of your life with them.

Everything was perfect. You were living your days free of stress, the happiest you have ever been in your life.

You fall asleep in their arms with the biggest smile on your face and when you wake up to the warm sun shining on your skin, you expect to see your lover’s resting face as you always do.

But to your surprise, they are no where to be seen.

Instead, you’re surrounded by the familiar characters of a game you had stopped playing many many years ago.

“It worked… the summoning ritual finally worked!”

The sounds of cheers and laughter that echo around you is drowned out by the loud ringing in your ears.

Your eyes dart around, everything spinning. Your fingers tightly grip the grass that you briefly note is painted with unrecognizable lettering.

You attempt to get up but you stumble, disoriented.

The breeze on your face, the sun in your eyes… it feels all too real.

“No… this can’t be happening.”

It takes you a bit, but you manage to clumsily push past all of the concerned faces.

“This is a dream… it’s a dream, it must be.”

“Your grace, we’ve realized our wrongs…”

Their words fall upon deaf ears as you break off into a sprint. You needed out.

“I have to go back. I have to go back.”

Your hands are shaking as your realize you’re back to the very place that had put you into therapy for years.

Realization struck you like lightning.

“That’s right… all I have to do is die.”

You look around for something, anything to end it. You keep on moving, pushing past bushes and trees before you finally come across a cliff.

You peek over the edge. It’s a long way to the bottom but it doesn’t matter. You no longer care about the pain or feel any fear of death.

The love of your life is waiting for you.

Driven solely by the thought of your precious person, you throw yourself off the edge with no hesitation.

When you open your eyes, you realize you’re stuck in place, far from the ground. The wind carries to safety and as you land, you’re met with the tearful eyes of your acolytes who are confused on your desperation to leave them. They know they made mistakes but haven’t they proven how much they need you? They’ve gone through so much trouble to bring you back, can’t you at least acknowledge them? They have so many questions for you but the most important one…

Why do you want to go back so badly? Because you have a lover?

Do not worry, you have dozens of acolytes lined up, all willing to be your lover. Not just willing, there is nothing more in the world that they could possible want. It is the greatest honor to be able to hold you or be held within your arms.

So much so that they’re constantly fighting each other for that spot. They do everything they can to seduce you and make you forget of your previous lover.

They tend to you in every way they can. You are never left alone. 24/7, there is always someone with you. While you are sleeping, bathing, eating - your acolytes are by your side.

Such loyalty and devotion…

What more could you possibly want?

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

hey babe! (if you don't give me a name I'll keep calling you that)

thinking about modern Arthur who takes you horse riding so he can show you what he likes and he just be his normal arthur going all "good girl" and "that's my girl" with his mare and you just go insane for this man because WHY IS HE TALKING TO A HORSE LIKE THAT😭

You can call me babe all you want honey <33 AND FOR GOD'S SAKE. We never talked about it and this blog yet but like MISTER CLARK why did you speak to these horses like they were your fcking partners?? Not that I don't like it... Totally not searching for mares on purpose to hear Arthur praising me... HUM.

Arthur and you had been circling around each other for a while now. A simple customer at your Café at first, you had grown fond of each other as you remembered his habits and likings (always two shots of expresso, black, plus a pile of maple syrup pancakes on mornings, and a hot dog on afternoons). He had begun to come more and more often, always finding some time between his patrols as a Ranger; his steps always bringing him back "unpurposedly" in the area everyday. One thing leading to another, you had shared numbers and started texting, shyly at first than until late at night. Sharing music, dumb photos, witty lines and, when one of you felt bold, flirty ones.

Soon enough, the need for more private time together had imposed itself on you. You were both craving for more, more than just texting, more than just chatting at the Café, in the middle of everyone and every ears of town. Arthur had pushed back all his limits by inviting you to his family ranch. He was eager to share his passion with you.

A hand on your hip, he helped you jump on the saddle of his mare, a beautiful ginger-colored creature named Boadicea. Your hands were uncertain as you hold the reins; it had been a while since you'd last been horse riding. But your anxiety stops all of a sudden when Arthur cooed unexpectedly, sending an odd shiver all the long of your back:

"Yeah, that's a good girl."

Your heart jumped at his words. Not only because of them but the way he had spoken. His voice was even lower and deeper than usual, the rough edges of it diving dangerously into the dreamiest parts of your psyche.

You blinked a few times, realizing as he was patting his mare's head that he had praised her, not you. The first seconds of surprise passed, you actually found it quite endearing. He looked like she really was everything to him; gaze filled with love. You could see those sweet little glittering fireflies in the depth of his eyes when he looked at her. Like when someone looks at what is the most precious thing on Earth to them. Or those tiny sparkles of joy and excitement when they talk to you about their favorite subject, on the verge of shedding a tear. It was pure and utter affection. How could a man taking such good care of an animal could be a bad one? There was something about all his behavior and his relationship with his mare that made you feel even more safe around him, and even more persuaded he was the softest and sweetest of men.

The afternoon passed wonderfully. Arthur never missed any occasion to put his hands on you: helping you getting down or on the saddle, showing you how to hold the reins better, how to position your back the right way... You didn't know if he was doing it on purpose, but you clearly would not complain about it.

Of course, the day ended with a long time spent grooming Boadicea. Arthur had everything needed for her, a huge box filled with a dozen brushes and at least five different types of treats. He gently showed you how to tend her mane while he fed her, letting out once again his low and loving praising:

"Thaaat's ma girl. Yeah, the best girl in the world. Who did real' good, today? Yeah, that's you! That's you, sugar!"

The good girl in question was in Paradise, weighing happily as an answer to his praise, mouth hungrily devouring the treats he was giving her.

You couldn't help yourself and chuckle slightly. Both because it was really cute, seeing Arthur like this, and because something inside you was loving to hear his voice whispering sweet things like he did, even if it was not for you. You knew, you really knew it wasn't. But God did it felt good to hear. Your heart and, you had to admit, your body was craving to hear it again.

"Wha'? You think I'm a fool, don't ya?" He asked you when he heard your little laugh. Your eyes landed on each other's face, and you noticed his cheeks had turned a tad crimson as one of his hands was scratching his neck, his embarrassment apparent and making him even more adorable than before.

"No! Not at all..." A slight grin curled your lips upward. You couldn't miss an occasion for more teasing. "I just didn't know you loved Boadicea that much..."

Arthur laughed frankly and something in your brain turned the whole World into a Paradise when you noticed that his eyes were filled with sparkles. The sparkles. The same glimmers as earlier. The deepest affection, for you, just for you, even if just for a second. His blue pupils are drawn in it, and covering you with it, dragging you in this pure joy with it.

"You jealous or somethin'?" He asks you, his chest still slightly vibrating with the end of his laugh.

"Maybe, who knows..."

"Oh, well I could call you a "good girl" too all you want, darlin'."

The cheeky bastard had emphasized it on purpose, you knew it. This time, he was the one grinning and you, the one blushing. Your ego begging you not to go any further on that road yet, you tried your best to stay cool and composed whereas it was absolute chaos in your chest and between your thighs.

"Yeah, well, don't get too cocky about it." You simply answered, trying to stay evasive about the matter. But the beautiful red sunset painting your face was displaying for his desirous eyes was betraying you.

"Yes, Ma'am!"

Arthur's grin stayed glued to his face until the very last moment you saw him. You didn't know, at the time, but a very long series of praising and sensual whispering was about to begin on that precise day.