#because when i reply its so hard i feel miserable because i can't help but as soon as i reply i get 20 new ones and it's incredibly overwhel

[gremzon]

I might have OCD actually

[aerodaltonimperial]

sorry your week is sucking so far! i would love to hear your take on “hook joins the best friends”—the twist is that he & danhausen haven’t reconciled yet :]

(SORRY THIS TOOK AWHILE TO GET TO)

"Okay," Orange says, slowly, the way he draws everything out syllable by syllable, "Tell me again why you went out and rescued him?"

"Because the Firm was ganging up on him," Chuck says.

"Yeah, and it was pathetic," Trent adds. "Like, pathetic enough to spur me into action. I felt bad for the guy."

"Besides, he's Danhausen’s best friend," Chuck continues.

In tandem, the three of them turn to look at the two figures sitting on the bench. Danhausen has his hands between his knees, resolutely looking away from the other figure seated on the same, hands shoved into his sweatshirt pockets. There might as well be enough room to land a jumbo jet between them. Neither of them have spoken since they came back from the ring.

"They don't look like best friends right now," Orange says.

"Well, sometimes we don't look like best friends, either," Chuck points out. "Remember when you two fought over that title match?"

"Yeah, don't remind me." Trent snorts. "You think they'll be okay? Eventually?"

"Yeah. Of course." But Chuck sounds less sure than he had a few minutes ago, when they had rushed out with metal chairs ready to pop Ethan Page's head in. "It'll be fine."

Orange goes quiet. This is not, on its own, unusual. Then he asks, "And you're sure they're best friends?"

"Of course, they are," Chuck says. "What else would they be?"

They look over to the bench again. Danhausen is rocking back and forth a little, still looking anywhere else. Hook hasn't really moved, but his arms are trembling, just a little, just enough to jostle the fabric of his sleeves.

"Oh, shit," Trent says. "We may have gravely misinterpreted this situation."

"Oh no," Chuck reaches for his face and drags his fingers down his cheeks. "Ooooooh no. Okay. Nobody panic. Noooooobody panic."

"I'm not panicking," Orange says, deadpan.

"I sort of am!" Trent hisses. "Oh man. Do you think it ended badly?"

"No, I think it ended with an engagement. Of course it ended badly!" Chuck leans in. "Neither of them have said a word since we got back!"

Trent spreads his hands to either side. "Well, how do we fix it?"

"I don't know!" Chuck exclaims. "But we just extended an invitation to his ex, and now we have to deal with it."

"Okay, listen, it's fine," Trent says. "We'll just...we'll just have to get them back together. That solves the problem."

"That feels like a lot of work." Orange sighs.

"Yeah, and it feels like it's going to create a new, different problem," Chuck says.

"Then we'll solve the new problem once we get there," Trent replies. "Okay. Just...think of ways to do this. It can't be that hard, right?"

The three grow quiet. Then they all look over at the bench again. Hook has begun to tap his foot against the ground in obvious anxious anticipation, like he can't help himself. And Danhausen has hunched further in, shoulders forming a miserable curve.

"Shit," Chuck says. "I don't know how to do this."

"It's fine," Trent says. He doesn't sound like he believes it. "Everything is fine. Think of ways we can get them back together, and everything will be fine."

Orange sighs again, forlorn. "This is going to be such a process."

"Shut up," Trent hisses. "That's not helpful. Get brainstorming."

[saltytothecore]

INFINITE REGRESS AND POLLEN PLS POLLEN IF I HAVE TO CHOOSE ONE BUT I WOULD LIKE BOTH V MUCH PLS PLS PLS

hey blu 💙

infinite regress is a shadowgast timeloop fic - Essek accidentally kicks it off during the fight with Lucien and eventually ends up in canon, where he then has to deal with the fallout

pollen is a sex pollen fic for sex pollen haters. Essek gets dosed in Aeor with a probably not lethal but definitely miserable sex pollen. Caleb offers to help, downplaying his own feelings in the process, which Essek first turns down but comes around to after he can't stand it anymore. Instead of the pollenee being passive, Essek takes charge, to Caleb's surprise and delight, because Essek has had it bad for Caleb but hadn't figured out how to tell him. Cue misunderstandings and aspec thoughts afterward

snippets for both below

infinite regress:

“Are you all right, where are you,” he rambles, panicked words tumbling from his mouth. “Are the others with you, please be specific, please, I’ll come immediately, just tell me, Jester, please be—” The spell snaps, all his words used. Lamely, he finishes with a meek “all right.”

He presses his hands to his mouth, waiting, praying for a reply. 

“Essek!” He makes a noise that cannot decide if it is a sob or a laugh as Jester’s voice fills his mind. “We’re at home, at the Xhorhaus—”

It worked. 

He saved them.

It worked.

Essek does not even wait for her to finish, Teleporting immediately into that familiar address. He appears in the main hall, only feet from Jester and Fjord. Her face is screwed up in concentration, and Fjord’s hands are held up, to count for her.

“You don’t sound good, did something bad happen? Do you need help? What’s going on? Are you okay?”

Essek winces, the rest of her words finally catching up to him, on a slight delay from what his ears have heard. 

“Jester!” 

They both start. Essek’s heart is hammering in his chest. They’re alive.

Essek throws himself at her, taking her by the shoulders and kissing both cheeks, greeting her like the beloved denmate she is, then throws his arms around her neck. She flinches, but reaches back, hugging him so hard it hurts. 

He laughs, wheezy, until she lets him go.

He turns to Fjord, grabbing him by the arm, just to reassure himself. Down the hall, Caduceus, Beauregard, and Yasha poke their heads out of the dining room. He can barely see them through his tears. They’re alive. They’re all alive.

“Ach, what’s going on?” comes a familiar, beloved voice from further in the house. Caleb, Caleb, leaning out of the door to the training room. His hair is haphazardly tied up, and there’s a bit of ink on the side of his nose, and he’s frowning in that way he does when he’s interrupted from study. 

He’s never looked more perfect. 

Essek cannot bear the distance—he closes it with a bit of magic, vanishing in a swirl of mist as he folds space until he is standing before Caleb. Caleb’s frown vanishes, replaced with wide eyes and a parted mouth. 

It’s—it’s too close to the last memory Essek has of him. 

He wipes it away with a kiss, touches him like he’d tried to before—before he died. Essek trembles against him, but Caleb stands firm. Stands—

Still.

annnd pollen:

Essek paces the length of the room, breathing labored like he’s running. His temples are glistening in the low light, making him look fever sweltered. His pupils are blown wide, and that is its own thing.

His agitation is contagious—Caleb is fidgeting, suddenly regretting taking a seat. 

“Stop means—” Essek growls, palms the bulge in his pants. “I don’t want to get more complicated than stop. Or, two taps, anywhere on my person. Or—” a word Caleb has never heard before, probably Undercommon, but maybe Essek speaks whatever language the pebbles preceding a rockfall do. “Just throw me across the room with the spell of your choice, if you are no longer comfortable with the proceedings.”

Caleb reaches out, catches Essek by the elbow. The silk there is damp with sweat. Suddenly all of Essek’s attention is on Caleb—blown out pupils, slightly parted mouth, perked ears. 

“The same will go for you?” Caleb’s boundaries are not the only ones in play. He is trying to help, yes, but the medicine need not be bitter. 

Three breaths over nine seconds, loud in the relative silence. 

“Yes, of course.” He says it like a formality. Caleb wonders if he should push, to properly hammer out the understanding that, even to Essek’s detriment, he would back off, but Essek throws a knee onto the sofa and hovers over Caleb. 

“Is this all right?”

“J—ja.”

Essek pulls his other leg up, sinking into Caleb’s lap. He is sitting taller than Caleb, this way. If Caleb is to look at him, he will be looking up. Caleb presses into the sofa, letting his head fall back. 

“I would start with—” Essek’s eyes fall to Caleb’s mouth. Caleb nods, suddenly not trusting himself to speak. 

Essek leans down, resting most of his weight on arms braced either side of Caleb’s head against the sofa back, and tastes his lips. The first brush is a question, a hypothesis—soft, well kept lips on his, testing give and angle. This close, Caleb can feel the poison’s heat radiating off Essek. Would swear, on his life, that he can hear his rabbit-fast pulse. Essek makes a noise, low in his throat, almost like surprise, and then there is a fist in Caleb’s hair and a tongue between his teeth. 

Any thoughts of having to coax Essek through this evaporate like they’ve been set to a hard boil. There is only trying to keep up. 

[prettyboykatsuki]

its understandable why you assume this. nagi isn't good with expressing himself, and he knows that. it's hard to figure out what he's thinking when he seems so constantly passive. you know nagi is with you of his own volition - at the most basic level, nagi would never do something he doesn't want to.

but sex feels unapproachable. you've seen him want for nothing except soccer in his life. but you're hot-blooded. you've got needs and you aren't sure if they're ever gonna be met. you masturbate relentlessly but you want nagi and it feels like you're never going to get him.

you can't bring yourself to ask him about it out of pride. but it comes up randomly - during a sex scene during a movie or something stupid. and you're nervous, almost fidgety. nagi is unreadable. always is.

but he turns to you with his head tilted, eyes wide "do you want to have sex?"

you flounder. what do you say? you say yes because you do, and you have and it feels like so long at this point. and you've kissed but never done anything more. you don't want to reek of desperation but you are desperate. so terribly, horribly, miserably desperate.

you almost think he's amused, but it's gone too quick. he nods, says okay and pulls you into his lap. you're kissing again—you're sure you're about to have sex and you honestly dont feel like cockblocking yourself but you stop him anyway.

"do...you want to have sex with me?"

"huh? yeah." and then "did you think i didn't want to?"

"i couldn't tell. i didn't think you were... into that sort of thing." more vulnerable. "or maybe just not that into me."

a beat. nagi shifts you until you're on your back on the couch with him hovering over you - yelping at the sudden change. you look up at him and find such obvious hunger looking back you find yourself lost on your words.

he leans. kisses your neck, nuzzles your jaw - all without really thinking. his voice is heavy. something is pressing against your thigh hard and you freeze.

"you can be dumb sometimes." nagi says, almost sighing. you want to protest but the words die, your hips canting with need. "i thought it was obvious."

"that you wanted to have sex with me?"

"the only reason i want too is because it's you." he replies. his eyes are so honest. predatory. "you should get that much right? but if you don't...well, i guess there's no helping it."

somehow, strangely - you feel like you've learned something you'd be better off not knowing. "...what do you mean?"

"i'll have to make you get it." nagi says, seemingly nonplussed even still. your breath hitches. you're so wet you can feel it. "no matter how long it takes."

you are actually in a great deal of danger if you think nagi is not as interested in having sex as you are

[lovequartz]

in the after.

◔pairing: boyfriend!wonwoo x reader

◔genre: established relationship, college au, angst, a bit of fluff

◔warnings: reader deals with the after-math of the sexual assault + semi-suggestive as they do shower together

◔word count: 872

◔ dont let go of me, i won't let go of you

notes: this is a small part two to on the rocks, thanks for all the notes im happy to see people enjoying my writing!

in the after there is jeon wonwoo.

jeon wonwoo who sits beside your hospital bed, and sometimes curls up next to you in it.

wonwoo who makes sure you eat, a spoon raised to your lips to feed you the soup your mother made for you. she says hospitals can take care of almost anything for you but the only thing they can't do is make a home cooked meal.

wonwoo who is so attentive over you that sometimes, when sleep evades you, catch him watching you in your sleep. looking ready to throw down with anyone who might disturb you.

in the after, all you feel towards wonwoo is sorry.

the night the hospital released you back into the real world, he was there to drive you back to campus. your recovery only took a few days, and friends all dropped by to bring you flowers and well wishes. but truly you want to fall into an endless sleep. anything to make you forget. forget that bathroom, forget that party, forget that fucking drink, and most of all forget that monster.

you had almost scrubbed your skin raw the first time you'd been allowed to shower at the hospital. they didn't want you to until they could swab up whatever they could. so you sat, the feeling of his touch crawling all over you like a thousand bugs. burrowing and making a home in your flesh.

you hated the way wonwoo looked at you after you'd come out, catching a glance of the red tinge of your skin. he loved you so much and all you could do to repay him was in suffering. yours and his own.

your dorm was really the same, the same as it was in the before. except all those stupid dresses you tossed on your bed haphazardly were nowhere to be seen, and it smelled clean.

"your mom and esther tidied up a bit, i told them about the hospital discharging you." wonwoo explained as he set the bag of your clothes (the party clothes) near the door. tucking it out of sight.

"okay." is all you can manage to reply before tugging your pants off and crawling into your bed.

wonwoo moves to tuck the blanket up and over your shoulder, your back facing him as your bury your head in your pillows, willing yourself not to cry.

he presses a kiss to your temple "i'll leave you be for a bit, baby. we'll eat something when i come back."

you mumble an "okay" before hearing the door shut and the lock click behind it.

its miserable in the after. but without wonwoo you know it would be worse.

after dinner, wonwoo offers to help you shower. you've been taking them more recently and not wanting what happened at the hospital to happen again wonwoo asked if you would be okay with him joining you.

the initial spurt is ice cold, wonwoo shields you so it hits his side instead. but soon it warms to a comfortable hot and the water pressure evens out as well.

it's nice to be held under a steady stream of hot water. your boyfriend's hand finding yours, lacing your fingers together.

"i love you," wonwoo says suddenly, "and i'm going to be here for you for as long as you'll have me."

you feel his voice reverberating in his chest with your ear pressed there, the rumble something unexpectedly soothing.

"i'm sorry," your voice small, "i'm sorry i can't be normal right now. i'm sorry that i'm burdening you with this. i'm sorry that you're trying so hard for me and all i can do for you is make you suffer more."

wonwoo's free hand comes to cradle your jaw, gently tilting it up so you can meet eyes.

"i love you, baby. i'm here because i love you and im taking care of you because i love you. you will never be a burden to me. you're trying your best everyday and even if you don't see it, i do. so, have a little more faith in me, okay? and a little more in yourself."

you give him a little smile before he closes his eyes and presses his forehead to yours. hot water still cascading over the both of you, wrapping you up in steam and warmth.

you watch wonwoo for a little bit while his eyes are closed. tracing the dip of his brow, curve of his cheek, and the shape of his lips. before you can rethink it you press a quick kiss there, a little grin tugging at your lips as your boyfriend's eyes fly open. they quickly find you own and you think wonwoo would just melt into a puddle if he could, the way his face flushes (not due to the steamy shower).

in the after, intimacy is something you struggled with giving back to wonwoo. not once has he tried to take any from you for himself, even if he was dying for any love you had to give him. you think he deserves this.

"thank you, my love," you say before going in to kiss him again.

in the after, wonwoo still loves you, and you still love him.

notes: well thanks for reading! i really do hope you enjoyed this as well as on the rocks i don't usually tackle topics this dark? raw? in my writing but it's nice to change it up once in a while

[wheeler-beretta-harwood]

Don’t know if you could tell (by all my questions) but tonight mama had a little white wine (and I never drink). And I want to know what happens with Dax and You after Indulging a little too much. Are you both hungover, is one being a nurse to the other one, or will one person purposely wake up too early and blast some music?

A/N: Thanks for sending this. It's adorable, and I had so much fun imagining what Dax would do. I know it's not my best work, and I had a hard time finding a groove for writing. I also apologize for future requests I will be working on, because I am not at my best, but trying to get back to it. Hope you still like this somewhat.

"Good morning, Dove."

It is no more than a gentle whisper, but my head feels like it is going to explode.

"Ssshhh! Please shut up, Dax!" I say rolling over to the other side, throwing the pillow over my head.

The man laying next to me chuckles softly and rubs my exposed back. "Seems like that last shot of tequila was bad."

I let out a gust of air, which only makes a muffled sound because of the pillow. "Yeah, and the 4 shots before that! I'll never drink with you again, Baby!" My voice is so whiny even hungover me can hear how miserable I sound.

"Awww, you don't mean that...", he replies while his arm snakes around my waist and pulls me close to his body again. "And it was our anniversary after all." He adds, pressing soft kisses on my shoulder, his mustache tickling my skin.

I can't help but smile at his comment: two years. It doesn't feel like two whole years at all, but time flies when you're having fun, right? And these have been the best years of my life. My hand moves over his on my stomach and our fingers intertwine. I enjoy his lips on my skin for a few more moments before I turn to face Dax.

I actually intended to smile at him and tell him I love him, but as soon as my head turns, the bright sun is blinding me like crazy, my eyes burn and my headache reaches heights I didn't think were possible. I wince out in pain, and the smile leaves Dax's face. With a soft 'hold on, Dove', he quickly gets out of bed and closes the curtains, leaving the room in a dim, orange glow. As the frown slowly fades, I open my eyes to come face to face with my man. He's hovering over me and there's this warmth in his eyes that turns my legs into jelly. Good thing I'm already laying down.

"Hey."

"Hey Baby." The need to peck his lips, ever so lightly, is overwhelming and I lift myself up to reach his face. I feel him smile into the kiss, which makes me smile too. When he pulls away, I try to follow him with my lips, but my head has different plans. I have moved too abruptly, and am dizzy now. Dax of course notices, gently cups my cheeks and lays me back down.

"Easy now, Love. You're REALLY hungover. Let me get something for ya." He runs his fingers through my hair before he's leaving the bedroom to head downstairs. As I watch him go, a bright smile spreads across my face.

He's mine.

Dax Harwood is mine.

People have been so foolish to believe his grumpy uncle show, and now miss out on the sweetheart he really is. The thought of it makes me happier than I've ever felt before.

After he's gone for a few minutes, the smell of freshly brewed coffee creeps its way into our bedroom. My smile grows even bigger as I hear footsteps getting closer and closer, and the door slowly opens again. Dax comes in, a tray in hand with two cups of coffee, one more glass and some food. He sets it down in front of me and crawls back into bed.

"Here you go, Dove." He says as he hands me a cup of water and an aspirin. After taking the pill, I look at the seemingly random food he brought up: A piece of Brie cheese, the Nutella glass, and the jar with mustard pickles. I raise an eyebrow at him, and can't help but grin. "Am I that easy to read, Baby?"

"Well, Dove. I know you get weird cravings when you're hungover. I notice things, you know. Remember them too." I can hear the contentment in his voice, and see the pride in his eyes. Dax does pay attention.

"Such a good boy!" I pat his bald head, taking a spoonful of nutella in my mouth, right before opening the jar with the pickles.

In the corner of my eyes, I see Dax wrinkling his nose before he takes a sip of his coffee. "I love you with all my heart, Dove, but if this is hungover cravings, I don't want to know what your pregnancy cravings will look like". His voice trails off before he nervously chuckles. I can tell he's anxious because he just mentioned something we haven't discussed yet: kids. Although we both talked about getting married, children have not been mentioned before. I chew on my pickle before smiling brightly at him.

"Just imagine, maybe I'll eat peanut butter sandwiches with cauliflower and a dash of condensed milk! Or what if all I want to eat during those 9 LOOOOONG months is....Hawaiian pizza? No cheese, but extra pineapple?" I fall into a hysteric fit of laughter as soon as his eyes grow the size of a plate and his mouth hangs open.

"Baby...and all my cravings will magically passed over on our kid! They will turn out just as weird as me!" I mockingly add.

The shock in his face abruptly leaves and he starts rubbing soothing circles into my back.

"I do hope they turn out just like you, Dove". The dimples are back on his face as he smiles at me, a serene smile that no one ever has bestowed for me.

"I love you so much, Dax." My voice is soft as I kiss his temple, and move my mouth down again to kiss my man.

"I love you too." His body shifts to the side, reaching down next to the bed. "And you know what day it is today?! It's our first 'we're together for over two years' celebration. Time for some tequila!"

I let myself fall back on the bed, my head dropping on the pillow as I close my eyes an shake my head.

"You know, when I'm pregnant and I won't have any alcohol, I expect you to show solidarity and also quit drinking for that time."

"What?!" I hear a dull thud - he dropped the bottle of his precious Clase Azul, and I can't help but giggle. He rolls over to me and pecks my lips a few times. "Well, we don't have to have kids right away, we can wait some more years...right?"

I laugh before pulling him on top of me and kissing him again. "Right, baby. It can wait some more time."

[sleptwithinthesun]

ok so

hear me out

ed/die with a horrible cold that he just can't seem to shake, and st/eve helps him feel better by playing mother hen

asjhkf yes. thank you. enjoy the 1.1K words of pure fucking angst and fluff i have written because goddamn i am in a Mood tonight

The problem with this whole situation, Steve realizes, is that Eddie's a chronic insomniac. He's already been over at his friend's trailer for the past thirty-six hours and counting, and somehow, Eddie hasn't even been able to take a nap. It's the complete opposite of how Steve himself is when he's sick; if he has so much as a cold, he'll be dead to the world for at least twelve hours. Eddie, though...

"You know, you're kind of awful at the whole 'being sick' thing," Steve comments, leaning down to pick up a tissue from the floor and drop it in the wastebasket next to the couch. And yeah, normally he'd be grossed out by just the thought of touching someone else's used tissue, but he's practically desensitized to germs now. Plus, it kind of helps that Eddie's absolutely miserable and hasn't even said a word about it, where normally he's all over the place with his theatrics. That's motivation if Steve's ever known it. "I mean, seriously, man, do you ever take a break?"

Eddie looks up from his D&D binder, caught red-handed planning out a new campaign, as Hellfire is a few days out from finishing the one they're currently on. The pencil in his right hand doesn't even stop writing as he glances up at Steve, meeting the other's gaze with hazy, red-rimmed eyes that (for once) aren't a result of having smoked weed. To be honest, he looks like death warmed over, what with the pale skin and flush high up on his cheeks. Coupled with the dark circles that've been developing under his eyes for the past few hours, he almost resembles a zombie, or vampire, or something along those lines. It's hard to think of run-of-the-mill supernatural creatures when you've been face-to-face with monsters from another dimension.

He draws in a breath, preparing to answer, but gets stuck on a coughing jag that doesn't end for a good fifteen seconds. By that time, Steve is already seated back at his side, a supportive hand placed on Eddie's back as he hacks into his elbow. "Christ, man," he murmurs once the fit ends.

"Yeah," is all Eddie says, breathless, a hand clutching at his shirt right over his chest. "Water?"

"Of course," Steve replies, grabbing the plastic water bottle they've been refilling off the table and passes it to Eddie, who takes a long swig before replacing the cap. "Are you okay?"

Eddie shrugs. "I mean, aside from the cold from hell that's totally kicking my ass? I'm fine, Steve. Just peachy." He then gives him a smile that looks more like a grimace, and Steve returns it with a small upturn of his lips that never makes it to the rest of his face. They're liars, the both of them, just pretending to be okay.

They sit in silence for a few moments more, until Eddie speaks again. "I don't think so."

"What?"

"Take a break. I don't think I do. Not often, anyway." Steve looks over at the other man, taking in the way exhaustion pulls at his features. "There's always something to do. Something to be worried about. And when you live like this," he says, gesturing around the trailer, with its thin walls and cramped rooms, "there's not much time to actually relax to the point where you feel safe, or less stressed that happens naturally. It's all just... temporary."

Maybe the light fever Eddie's been running is melting his brain, because there's no way Steve just heard what he thinks he did. For as long as Steve's known him, which, admittedly, is not that long, Eddie's always been in motion. He's not a relaxed type of person, unable to just brush everything off or claim that nothing bothers him, even if that's how he acts at school. The anxiety that constantly rippled under his skin made sense when they were dealing with Vecna, but now? When they're pretty sure they're never going to have to deal with the Upside Down again? The flightiness makes no sense, unless he takes into consideration what Eddie just said. He doesn't feel safe in his own home, so why would he anywhere else?

"Hey, Harrington? I didn't just break you or anything, right?" Eddie asks, cutting through the sudden fog of thoughts in Steve's mind. There's an underlying note of tension in his voice, likely because the last time someone checked out on him, she died.

"No, yeah, I'm fine," Steve says, blinking his way out of his brain. "It's just a lot to process all at once, you know?"

And Eddie draws back, just slightly, but enough that Steve notices. "Oh. Sorry, then, about dumping that on you."

"It's fine, really. I'm just not exactly used to the sentiment." Steve rushes to reassure him, almost eagerly admitting his own ignorance, and Eddie smiles. For real this time.

"What, not used to hanging out with poor people?" he teases, some of the tension bunched in his shoulders easing as he speaks. Steve rolls his eyes at Eddie, but doesn't bother to deny it. Besides, it's not like he's wrong.

"I'm just trying to broaden my horizons, you know, by spending my time with a crazy metalhead who somehow thinks it's a good idea to try and plan a campaign when his brain is slowly turning into mucus," Steve returns. The grin comes naturally to his face as Eddie gasps lightly, drawing a hand up to his heart in mock offense. Thankfully, it doesn't send him into yet another coughing fit, but he still waits for a careful beat before speaking again.

"Please, I could plan a campaign in my sleep. It might not be great, but I could totally do it," he says.

Steve raises his brows in mock-challenge. "Oh, yeah?"

"Absolutely."

"Well then, how about you go to your room and go the fuck to sleep?" he suggests, tone turning from playful to serious in half a second. "I mean, Eddie, have you slept at all since you got sick?"

Eddie shrugs, completely unfazed. "I mean, I did pass out for about four hours right before you got here, but since then? No."

"You're going to be the death of me, Munson," Steve sighs, standing and gently pulling Eddie up with him. The other man sways slightly, pressing a hand to his temple with the headrush and whimpering slightly, the sound only partially muffled. "You okay?"

"Mm," Eddie hums, the sound coming out more like a groan. "Just let me sit down again as soon as possible, m'kay?"

"Yeah, we can do that." Steve gets an arm around Eddie's shoulder and guides him through the hallway to his room as the other man runs his hand along the wall. He carefully stacks up the cassettes that're strewn across the bed, moving them to the dresser while Eddie practically flops onto his mattress. "Yeah, naptime for you."

Eddie huffs out a laugh, rolling so that he's face-down on his bed. His voice is muffled when he speaks. "Whatever you say, Harrington. Whatever you say."

And then he's out.

[oneofthosesimps]

Martyr

pairing: levi x reader I nsfw

word count: 5729

summary: after a long day and lots of tension, levi takes care of you and fucks you into your dilirium

warnings: choking (i mean like you get no air at all), rough sex, dirtytalk, swearing, sub x dom

authors note: ok, i'm absolutely not satisfied with the fanfic, but i've been sitting on it for way too long and i have to get it out now, because i can't work on anything else. the next one will be better, i promise.

all credits to the artist of this pic

i hope that's right

-----

"They're miserable" Oluo says to you and wrinkles his nose. You look at Marco Bott in front of you, hanging in the ropes of the ODM gear and trying with all his might to keep his balance.

A gust of air swirls individual leaves around you, causing a few strands of your hair to fall into your face. The ropes of the ODM gear blow back and forth slightly and this small movement completely throws Bott off balance. You can see the effort and sweat beading on his face, he clenches his teeth tightly before panic overcomes him. His body can't find balance and he starts to row his arms, but it's too late. He topples over backwards and with a dull thud his head hits the stone floor. "Pathetic," you mutter, grabbing your forehead with your hand. Actually, such an impact shouldn't even happen, but judging by the appearance, since Bott slipped out of the leather straps, he hadn't fastened them properly. "The students are a disaster," Oluo says in your direction, and you nod slightly at him.

"Okay, Bott, out of the harnesses! Arlert, you're up next!" he shouts to the other group members, then runs to Marco to help him out of his predicament.

Your eyes roam over the other groups and their contraptions. Oluo was right with his statement. It's been a long time since you've seen such a pile of work. There are individual exceptions like Mikasa Ackerman or Annie Leonhardt, but as mentioned before, these are only exceptions. The rest are doing just as poorly as Bott. A long sigh escapes you.

"They are a bunch of shit.” Your hackles stand up and a cold shiver runs down your spine. The goosebumps start at your shoulders and then spread down your arms. Your heart seems to skip a beat.

"Yes, they are, Captain." Oluo stands next to you again and your captain joins in as well. Out of the corner of your eye, you look to your left at Levi, who looks straight ahead with his arms folded in front of his chest.

"Oi, Arlert, you're a disgrace to our troop. Get a grip."

"Yes, sir," Armin shouts back, but you can see the uncertainty Levi's words bring and his whole-body tenses. He also loses his balance, his body swings backwards and he hangs upside down in the ropes, like Marco Bott before - at least he doesn't hit his head.

"What did I tell you!!! Tighten the center!" roars Oluo, stomping his feet as he makes his way to Arlert.

A breeze comes up again, stronger this time, and the cadets have great difficulty keeping their balance. In fact, everyone sails back, except, to your surprise, Connie Springer, who is cheered on by the rest of his group. You pull your jacket tighter around you, hoping it would catch some of the spring wind, but you shiver anyway.

"Your jaw is tight," Levi's deep voice says beside you, and you turn your gaze to him in surprise. His grey eyes look down at you from above and you swallow hard. He's such a handsome man. His shoulders show well through his uniform and his shirt tightens a bit at his chest due to his muscles. His eyes sparkle slightly from the sun shining on his face. The wind has spread some hair on his forehead and your fingertips start to tickle. How you would like to brush them away. You clench your hands into fists to stop yourself.

"Didn't even realize it," you reply, turning your gaze back to Oluo and Arlert to stay calm. Your heart drums a little in your chest. Your comrade is trying his best to help him and give him instructions and assistance.

"To be honest, your whole body is tense". You feel Levi's calm gaze still resting on you and you put your head back and stare at the sky. A few clouds drift across the sky, white and fluffy.

"It's been a busy day, too." Your eyes shift back to him and you both look into each other's eyes. His grey eyes seem almost a bright silver. He studies you more closely and the corners of his mouth lift up ever so slightly. "Understandable, with this bunch of idiots." You roll your eyes and have to grin slightly before sighing again. It was admittedly leaching to complete the first training sessions with new cadets. They are all so full of anticipation before harsh reality catches up with them and about a third of all are sent back home - if they still have a home after Wall Maria was breached and Shiganshina District had to be left.

Of course, it was little different for you back then, but you performed solidly right from the start and made it to the top 3 of all graduates after hard training. That was also the reason why Levi included you in his squad.

Nonetheless, you just got annoyed and wanted a break from all the frustration and instruction you had to give. Being a teacher is not the reason you joined the Survey Corps.

Levi is just opening his mouth to say something when Petra's loud voice echoes across the square.

"Captain, I need your help." Over Levi's shoulder, you can see her, hands flailing in the air. Levi clicks his tongue and his expression changes, becomes slightly annoyed. You do the same. He leans over to you, his head right next to yours. His strong scent of black tea and citrus rises to your nose and your knees go weak. His hot breath hits the shell of your ear and goosebumps cover your body again. "I'll make you feel better later." Your heart starts beating faster and a deep blush settles over your cheeks. You hold your breath as he turns and walks with strong strides back to his spot by Petra, the Wings of Freedom emblazoned large on his back.

"Tch, I haven't seen a fucking weakling like that in a long time, Yaeger," you hear him shout further back. Again, a slight grin comes over you.

"Ma'am, can you help me with the straps?" calls Christa Renz over to you. She snaps you out of your thoughts and you come back to yourself. You expel your long-held breath and make your way over to her.

The rest of the training was like chewing gum compared to before. The remaining part of your group wasn't a total bust, but Levi's words left a sweet note and butterflies in your stomach. Your whole body tingled with joy and the scenarios in your head took their own course. Every now and then your gaze swung to Levi, even as you have pulled yourself together, but the temptation was far too great. And then when he caught your gaze, you could see the change in him even across the distance. At one point you even thought he winked at you, which was the most uncharacteristic thing ever for him, but just the pure thought that you were right made your knees weak again. For this reason, you were more concerned with your students, who were not very happy about it. You had the reputation of being almost as strict as Levi - but with less insults - and that although your size made you look more like a dwarf. At the end of the training, the Levi Squad then condemned the worst to clean up the mess. The sun was lower by now, it was late afternoon and the wind was blowing stronger. You walked together as a group back to the large building and followed the cadets to the mess hall.

As usual, you took your food first before the rest could strike, which you were more than happy about. At least on days when there was meat, it was always an advantage for everything and everyone to fill their plates before Sasha Blouse. Her love for food was immeasurable. After her, there wasn't that much left for others to lead and sharing was out of the question for her. You plod along behind Eld with your full plate and settle into the seat next to him and Oluo.

"What a day, huh guys?" groans Petra, sliding onto the bench across from you, followed by Gunther and then Levi, who grabs the seat across from yours.

You stare at the potatoes, meat and bread in front of you and start eating, almost burning yourself.

The others do the same, while Levi drinks his tea and lets his gaze roam the room to observe the other cadets.

"There, you say something. I wonder when it's going to be expedition time again. Time to kill some titans again, isn't it?" grins Oluo next to you, poking you in the side. You give him a dry look. "You mean so I can do all the work again and you can rest?" Oluo blushes slightly, whether from anger or shame, and slashes at the table with his knife in his right hand.

"I was here long before you even got around to it, kid".

"That makes your 39 kills all the sadder," you mock, and the others stifle their laughter.

Oluo contorts his face and is about to open his mouth when Eld slaps him on the back, "Oh Oluo, I can still remember when you wet yourself on your first expedition."

The blow startles Oluo slightly and he yelps in pain. He slaps his hand over his mouth and contorts his face. "I bit my tongue," he mumbles, which really makes the others laugh now. You, on the other hand, just roll your eyes again and are pleased inwardly.

No matter how much you get on each other's nerves sometimes, you are a family that always stands up for each other. Most of the happy moments you can still remember were spent with this group. Each had its strengths and weaknesses, which in turn compensated for another. Your gaze falls on each of them as they still laugh and Oluo still complains before you look at Levi.

Again, your breath catches slightly. His gaze pierces you and holds you spellbound. He looks at you as he slowly eats. A shiver runs down your spine again and you press your legs together. His gaze is intense and deep, going straight to your soul. His silver eyes are darker and possessive. No one at the table seems to notice what's happening, as Levi has always been good at hiding your personal moments. It's a mystery to you how he did it since you always felt caught and like your body didn't really belong to you. He was the one thing that always upset you and left you breathless. You smile slightly at him and his gaze darkens even more, making you swallow.

"Captain, how about a little break for us tonight? We could all sit down together for a bit and have a little drink," Petra catches your attention. She blushes slightly and you have to suppress the gagging. Never, never, would Levi ever feel anything for Petra. Everyone liked her, including him and yourself, of course, but not in that way. They were much too different for that and didn't have the same goals. But you had already noticed how Petra looked at Levi and blushed and bit her lip and stroked through her hair and smiled and laughed extra and positioned herself well and always stood next to him, sat down, tried to work with him, always addressed him directly, took him in protection. You were never jealous because Levi never gave you a reason to be, but Petra made it really hard for you sometimes. Especially since no one, except Hange, of course, knew about how things were between Levi and you.

"Oi, your hand," Gunther says, touching it. You recoil and realize how your hand hurts. You clutch your knife tightly, your knuckles white. Everyone is looking at you. You let go of it and it falls to the table before you mumble a quiet apology and continue eating. Speaking of which, you were bad at hiding your feelings for Levi. The others let go of you and turn their attention back to Petra and Levi.

"Tch, do what you want, I still have workto do". Petra looks slightly disappointed and starts eating again. The rest of the meal was quieter as everyone was busy filling their bellies. Eld and Gunther are the first to leave before Levi raises his voice. "Oi, Petra, take my dishes away as soon as you finished". The girl seems hopeful for a brief moment before Levi smashes her hopes. He looks at you and your almost empty plates. "... And the other one here too".

With these words he straightens up. You look up at him. "Would you help me just now?" His eyes show a sparkle again and your gaze falls on Petra and Oluo for a brief moment before you nod. With those words, he trots off. You quickly get up, say goodbye, and walk after him. Your path past the cadets is quiet and the murmuring around you also quiets, which always happened when Levi was around. No one would dare to accidentally say something that might upset him. Levi headed for the stone stairs in the hallway, down the long hallway to the door of his office. A few torches flicker on the wall, lighting your way, even with the sun still providing more than enough light from outside. All the while, you follow him quietly until he unlocks the door and both of you step inside.

You close the door behind you with a soft click and turn around. Levi is standing in front of you with his arms folded in front of his chest. He leans slightly against his desk and examines you from top to bottom. The evening sun shines through the window behind him and strong shadows stand out on his face. "How are you?" You bite your lower lip and swallow hard. "Pretty good, I guess," you say and avert your gaze, looking down at the ground. You continue to feel his gaze and you blush slightly. Your breathing gets a little heavier and you swallow again. The tension in this room is heavy and oppressive. The energy between you is crackling and the hairs on your arms are standing up. It is amazing how different Levi could behave. Toward everyone else on the planet, he was an ass, no question about it. But to you, he treated you like you were a flower that would wilt if he didn't take proper care of it. You bite your lower lip. Levi's footsteps come toward you until he's standing right in front of you and you can look at his shoes. He puts a finger under your chin and lifts your face. His eyes are impenetrable, and he can probably read you again like one of his books.

"You know better than to bite your lip," he whispers to you. He places his left hand against the door behind you and leans against you. His eyes pull you in before you close them and feel his lips on yours. In the background, you hear him turn the key in the lock, locking you in this room. His teeth graze over your bottom lip and he captures it, sucking on it before releasing it. "I'll do that for you, won't I?" A low moan escapes you and you open your eyes again. He was even closer to you, your noses almost grazing each other, and his hot breathing and warmth befuddle you.

"Remember what I promised you earlier?" You nod and lick your lips. His gaze immediately darts to that movement before he looks into your soul again. "Repeat it."

"You promised me that you would make me feel better".

A slight smile curls his lips and he takes your face in his right hand. You nestle into it and your heart flutters.

"So, do you still want this?" What a question, you think and nod slightly, kissing the inside palm of his hand and staring at him. Please make me feel good. Again, he has to smirk slightly and presses a feather-light kiss to your forehead before stepping away from you, taking his warmth with him. He steps back to his desk and resumes his previous posture there. His face and body tension are harder and his eyes seem much darker than before.

"Take off your clothes," comes his instruction. His voice is also low and hard. You look at him a little unsettled and surprised before you start undoing the buttons of your blouse. His gaze follows your movements and he tilts his head slightly. You kick your shoes aside. The removal of your pants in particular seems to fascinate him, and you swear you saw a sparkle in his eyes as your bra and panties follow the other garments as well. So, you stand in front of him, shivering slightly from the temperature difference, causing your nipples to poke hard at him and your skin to be covered in goosebumps again. He licks his lips and takes off his jacket, placing it on his desk behind him. He undoes the straps that wrap around his torso and sets them aside as well.

"Kneel down." You do as you were told and kneel on the cold wooden floor. This causes the cold to shoot more strongly through your body and you shake yourself slightly. Levi is still watching you and slowly lets his gaze roam over you. After your next blink, he rises and steps to the other side of his desk, which faces his window. He opens the first drawer on the left and pulls out something. After closing it, he comes back to your side and slowly steps towards you. You are a little surprised at what he just did since you can't see anything in his hands. He stops in front of you and looks down. You follow his hands, which reach for the buttons of his shirt, which he then slowly opens bit by bit. His gaze stares at you again, while he moves as if in slow motion. For you, it was all much too slow and with each button your heart beat a beat faster again. If it were up to you, you would have torn it from his body so that the buttons would fly across the room. But your hands remain still in your lap as you wait for each button. Finally arriving at the last one, he undoes it as well before slipping his shirt off his torso. His shoulders and arms work as he does so, and your knees soften. You love his body, he's a god. With all the years of training and fighting experience, it goes without saying that he is trained, but his cross and arms especially make your heart weak. You don't know what that is because of, but it's just a preference of yours on him. One of the many you have to mention about it. And you love every single scar from his skin you've run along them so many times with your lips and fingers. Slowly your temperature changes. Your body becomes warm and you notice how your center becomes moist. He reaches into his right pants pocket and pulls out a long piece of rope. Your breath catches and your eyes widen. Levi still just looks at you and plays with it a bit, tightens it and let’s go again. As he does, the muscles under his skin play again, looking indescribable with the setting sun in the background. Veins come out from under his skin and you pull your eyebrows together in frustration. He shines like a saint that you love to cling to so that he can keep all the evil in the world away from you.

"Hands behind your back." Immediately you do as he said and follow him as long as you can with your gaze as he walks around you and then kneels behind you. His fingers are warm as they graze your skin and he ties the rope around your wrists to join your two hands together. After he's done, he runs his hands up your arms, touching the haunches above your collarbones for seconds before pulling his hands away again.

"Close your eyes," he whispers in your right ear. The last thing you see before your eyes flutter shut are the last rays of the sun, which bathe the room in a deep orange-red. You feel something being placed over your eyes. Levi ties the piece of cloth to the back of your head and then rises. As soon as you realize he's done, your eyes open briefly, only to see deep black. Butterflies spread through your lower stomach and you press your lips together to stifle a moan. With excitement and anticipation, you feel more wetness between your legs and squirm slightly to create some pressure, but to no avail. Now without sight, you rely more on your ears and the sounds of the environment around you. Levi moves quietly around the room, you locate him at his desk and hear him light a match. The smell of smoke fills the room. When he seems to be finished, he moves back toward you. You hear the rattle of the buckles of his belts, which then fall to the floor with a sound. He loosens one strap after another until the sounds stop. You feel his presence in front of you and squeeze your legs together again. Fabric rustles before it's quiet again. Suddenly, a hand reaches into your hair and pulls your head almost painfully to the back of your neck. Air escapes your throat and you make a surprised sound.

"Open your mouth." Levi's voice seems even deeper than usual and hard, almost cold. You open it on command and stick out your tongue. You hear him smirk and feel one of his fingers, which slowly works its way to your throat. "I raised you so well," Levi murmurs, and you suck on his finger. Shortly after, two more join him. "I'm going to use you so well. You're going to do exactly what you were made to do: choke on my cock and milk it afterwards." A long moan escapes you and you suck on his fingers, your tongue playing with them before withdrawing them again. A feather-light touch brushes over your left nipple and you sigh. "I saw the look on your face earlier. How shamelessly you fantasize about such things while your cadets are in front of you and that idiot Oluo is standing next to you. How I would have loved to take his place". Your saliva causes your nipples to harden again as the cold air swirls around them. The hand in your hair loosens. Shortly after, you feel something warm and soft against your lips. Your mouth opens again and you groan. Levi's cock slides between your teeth into the roof of your mouth and he moans out too. "Fuck, finally." You feel the wetness between your legs run down your thigh before it drips onto the floor. Levi's hand finds its way into your hair again, and he pulls his hips back before they shoot forward again and his cock buries itself in your mouth once more. He holds this speed for some time. You get warmer and warmer, especially at the thought of you kneeling there right now in front of him and him using your mouth. "You're doing so good, slut," Levi murmurs from above, thrusting harder. The sound of your mouth smacking and his increasingly heavy breathing echoes through the room. You taste a few drops of his juice and your eyes roll back into your skull. Again, a long moan escapes you and the hand in your hair grips harder. Slight pain jolts through your scalp and goosebumps form on your skin again.

"Your mouth is so warm and wet. Just not as tight as your cunt, but I can change that". His cock finds its way deeper into your throat, almost hitting the back it before withdrawing completely. For a brief moment you feel his lips on yours, his tongue exploring the path his cock had paved earlier. He tastes himself on your lips and wants much more of it. The kiss is wild and he leaves you with throbbing, swollen lips. "Tongue out." Before you can take a breath, you're sticking it out at him again. He slaps his cock on it a few times before burying himself inside you again with one smooth thrust. His entire length fills your mouth, and you gag slightly as his tip sticks way too deep in your throat. Levi doesn't let up though, keeping you that way before resuming his previous speed and hardness. You squeeze your eyes shut, but tears escape your eyelids anyway. They wet the fabric on your eyes and find their way along under it, flowing down your cheeks and dripping on your legs. The more your throat hurts, the heavier Levi's breathing becomes. His balls hit your chin and his second hand finds its way into your hair as well, holding you in place.

"You feel so good," his deep, dry voice comes out. "...The way you sit here in front of me and suck me so good. Other men dream about it. Who would believe what a slut you are?" You moan and the vibration makes him wince and he claws into your scalp. As best you can, you slide your tongue around his shaft, grasping his tip, sucking on him while his hips keep thrusting. Your mouth and neck feel painful and your jaw hurts from the constant mouthing. As your tongue touches his balls, his hips twitch and he pulls back breathlessly. His cock pulls out of you again and you gasp for air. You cough heavily and saliva runs down the corners of your mouth.

Suddenly, Levi's hands push at your hips and pull you upward. Your legs are jello, which is why he catches your weight and supports you. The soles of your feet touch the ground for only a few moments before you feel his shoulder against your stomach and your face comes to rest on his back. The air is forced from your lungs and blood rushes to your head. He grips the rope at your wrists, thus holding you tight before he moves. “Levi, I want more”, you mumble and feel the juice running between your legs. He opens the door to his bedroom and carries you to his bed, where he lays you down somewhat roughly. The room smells like him. The bed linen is freshly washed, which is normal for him. The smell of tea is also heavy in the air, as well as its own note, which is that of Levi himself. “Tch, it's clear to me that you little bitch can't get enough. But do not worry, my big cock will fill you up in a minute.”

He turns you onto your stomach and pulls your butt up and towards him. You feel his warm breath at your center and your muscles tremble. "Aren't you ashamed of yourself for being so wet?" He blows against your wet lips and you squirm slightly under him. You feel his tongue licking once along your slit. You moan loudly as you finally get some touch before his hand hits your right ass cheek and you howl in pain. Without warning, his cock drills deep into your cunt and your moans mingle in the small space, echoing out to you. Immediately, Levi picks up the pace he had earlier while fucking your mouth. You jerk beneath him, moaning into the mattress beneath you, and your fingernails each dig into the wrist of the other arm. Again, Levi's hand closes around the rope and he pulls you up to him, grasping your throat with his other hand and biting your shoulder. You moan his name loudly and press against the warmth of his chest. He licks over the bite marks and fucks you harder. Your walls close tightly around his cock and he moans loudly next to your ear. "How tight can you get?" he murmurs, and his hand around your throat squeezes tighter. His fingers are right against your main arteries. Your air gets shorter, your pulse beats faster to push the blood into your head, but because of the pressure from his fingers it doesn't work. Light panic overcomes you and mixes with your lust. "Levi...I-I," you try to say before everything around you goes black. Your whole-body collapses and you can't finish your sentence. He immediately releases the pressure of his hand before you finally lose consciousness and the blood rushes back to your head. The difference in pressure makes you dizzy as you slowly regain consciousness. His thrusts don't stop, his endurance was immeasurable. He moans into your neck and your whole belly tingles with satisfaction. Your moans get louder again.

"Again?"

"Yes," you groan out. You hear him laugh softly before the pressure around your throat intensifies again and the scenario from just now repeats itself. The mixture of dizziness and pleasure is a deadly mix. Nothing feels better and you want more, more and more, but Levi knows exactly when to stop before he puts your little body through too much. As you come to yourself again, Levi loosens his hand around the rope and wraps his arm around your stomach. He presses you tighter against him, holding your weak body tight. "You're the biggest slut," he murmurs against your ear. The hand on your belly slowly strokes to your pelvic bones, slowly finding its way between your legs. He circles your clit with his middle finger, making you twitch and squirm against his chest as you praise his name. His lips settle on your neck, beginning to suck as his hand pushes deeper. He feels his own cock thrusting into you and adds his index and middle fingers, burying them in your creamy hole as well, which they grip tightly, and your moans grow louder again. No one must ever know what Levi does with you during all those hours in his bedroom. No one would probably believe it. How many marks he has left on your body, how many times he has cut off your air, how many times he has fucked you into unconsciousness, left your cunt sore. If Levi would be a religion, you would be its first martyr.

You lay your head in your neck and his hand around your throat rests on your forehead, pressing your head back. This makes it easier for him to get to your throat with his mouth. He licks away the sweat next to the mark before making more. "I'm so sick of no one knowing what I do to you," he hums against your neck. "I'm so fed up with the fact that some complete idiots actually still think they have a chance with you, can fuck you the way I'm doing right now". At these words he fucks you incessantly, his two fingers in addition inside you, which stretch you further and you are in heaven. Your delirium is near. He feels his way forward, curves his fingers, massages the inside of your walls. He just can't get to your g-spot due to the extra space his dick takes up and you will think you are going insane. "Even though yes I love how jealous you get of Petra. Tch, as if I would touch that filthy bitch." His thrusts get even harder and your whole-body tenses, groaning in pain. "No one can give me what you give me," he whispers. No one could give him the power he had over you. He could do whatever he wanted with you and you would get wet with lust and horniness. You were a dream come true, not just in that way. Levi loves you more than anything else in the world, even if he never says it, but deep inside you know it.

The thumb of his hand moves between your legs again to your clitoris and presses against it. A second, two seconds pass before you explode. Your vision goes white despite your blindfold, your body writhes, the muscles in your thighs twitch wildly, and you scream the room together. His name falls from your lips again as he fucks you through your orgasm. Each thrust brings sparks, his lips on your neck and his hands on and inside you. As your body slowly calms, he releases you, removes his hands, and pushes you back into the mattress. Your face shifts over the fabric before he has you back in the right position. His right leg settles next to your hip and you hear the bed creak beneath you. He continues to increase his speed, getting harder. His head settles into your neck and he moans loudly as he fucks you, finally meeting his end. Tears run down your cheeks as your body is drained, screaming at you to take a break. But the sensation between your legs pulls through your body again, making you moan once more. His hands dig painfully into your ass before Levi explodes inside you. His juice squirts into you and your name falls from his lips, giving you butterflies again. He thrusts with light strokes before gradually slowing down and dropping against your body.

He gives himself a brief moment before rising from you and untying your hands. without any remaining body tension, you fall onto the mattress beneath you and tear the blindfold from your head. The room is dark. The sun has set in time and your sense of time is confused. The light from the candle in the office brings a little light into the room, so that you can make out the outlines of the furniture.

"Better?" You hum to him and snuggle into the blanket beneath you. "Oi, I'll run us a bath, don't fall asleep." You grumble again and look after him as he leaves you alone and drained in the dark room.

[yaffles-world]

Okay so this started as a reponse to an ask game, but it ended up being Long, so I wanted to post it separately... Also it took like an hour. I felt like it works better on its own hehe.

Also, I know I coulda just posted it as fanfiction but this is very personal to me? Like... I didn't wanna just change it to an x reader. But I don't mind what y'all do in your own head of course. Plus the only person who reads this is @irummna - if your somehow reading this, you've probably also seen their content their more popular but if not GO CONSUME.

❤️ [HEART]- What did the confession look like between you two? Who initiated it? Where did it take place?

Relationship status: pending

Relationship length: barely

The Confession

I had come aboard with them about a year prior, after I happened to bump into Jet, an old friend from many years ago. I was looking for a change and came on board with him, Spike, Ed, and of course Ein, on the Bebop. I'd never met Spike before but I very quickly developed a crush on him. I mean, who wouldn't, he's young, he's cute, he's charismatic.

He's a slacker and Jet is a bit of a hardass… It felt like I was always getting in between the bickering arguments that they had. Jet is a great friend and frankly, a lot of the time, he was in the right, but I couldn't help but take Spike's side. Spike would get all gloaty and proud and come up and wrap his arm around me and say "See! Jamie agrees with me!" And I'd blush real hard… Spike never noticed it, that I know of. Jet would though and he would fix me with a hard stare that said "you knew I was in the right! What is going on with you?" And I would just look away because I didn't want to admit that I liked a guy like Spike.

Slowly, casual touching became more common place. I still had no idea if he liked me back, though… It's Spike, it could just be flirting. Lots of him getting kisses from Ein, the dog, and saying stuff like "you jealous?" And like… accidental walk ins on the shower. It was a solid month of flirting before I realized I should hit the brakes… Crippling self doubt set in. I thought no one can possibly like me, certainly not Spike. Talking to him was too painful, so I didn't.

That's when Jet came in. He sat me down and asked what was wrong and I told him. "Listen, it personally grinds my gears seeing you two all flirty and joking around with each other... But it's so much harder seeing you barely look him in the eye." Jet explained. "I think you kids need to sort it out yourself, but... I think you'll both be better off if you're honest with each other."

Just like all of Jet's advice, I decided to ignore it. I was miserable, but I was sure Jet was just being nice and that being honest would only make it all awkward and painful. Until, one day, Jet was out with Ed, leaving Spike and I on our own. I was reading a book, feeling a little down. I missed Spike. I missed even being a friend but it was too hard because every time I saw him I just fell for him harder.

Spike came over, lifted my legs off the couch, and sat down under them. I asked what he was doing, he made some quip about me taking up all the space, and something must have shifted in my face because he asked if I was alright.

"Quite frankly, no, I'm not," I replied, with a sad smile.

"Well, we can't have that then!" He put on a music record, and pulled me up to dance with him. I blushed deeply and tried to save face as we boogied down to one of Jet's records. I started to laugh, he laughed, it was actually going okay. But then there was a slow song and Spike pulled me in close. I pulled back, firmly placing us apart with arms extended. "Come on, we're not related!" He joked and pulled me in closer.

Queue blushing.

I was stuck looking into his eyes, and worst of all, he was looking back into mine. He wasn't making any jokes… we were just standing there. Swaying slowly. He was so god damn beautiful.

You know how some people see something like the grand Canyon, or a beautiful piece of art, or the ocean, and it simply moves them to tears. It moves them because of how wonderful it looks, how amazing it is that you and that thing not only exist in the same timeline, but can see each other, you can walk in that sand and swim in that ocean. That's how I felt, drowning in his deep, brown eyes. Drowning in his presence, drowning in the irreparable despair that no matter how much I loved the ocean, the grand canyon, that piece of art, no matter how much I loved him, by their nature they could not love me back.

And then we kissed

I couldn't tell you who kissed who… I don't think it matters.

It was soft and gentle but also firm. He held the back of my head gently. We pulled apart.

Queue blushing.

"Did you... mean to do that?" I asked, hesitantly.

Spike grinned widely, smiling wider and with more joy than I'd ever seen before. He nodded. "Yeah, I sure did!" He pulled me in again, more passionately this time, holding onto me like he never planned on letting go, our lips crashing against each other. Making up for lost time.

The door opened, suddenly. "Finally!" Jet shouted. "I'm glad you kids worked it out!" We pulled apart, the kiss broken from smiling, as Jet clapped us both on the back.

And we've been together ever since.

[apixrl]

DRIVER'S LICENSE.

katsuki bakugou x fem! reader

WARNING(S): angst. cheating. swearing because it's bakugou.

word count: 4.5k

song: drivers license // olivia rodrigo (i wonder why...)

note(s): so i captioned this *at the time of writing* 'hello and welcome to i've had the worst two weeks ever so i wrote a katsuki oneshot to cope' and it's probably one of my most personal pieces of writing tbh

"-come Tuesday and we'll potentially see an end to this heavy downpour of rain. Temperatures will be on the rise to around-"

The talk on the radio cut short at the jab of your finger, heaving a great sigh which faded into the muffled pitter-patter of rain from outside. The streets had been showered with heavy downpours for the last week or so, no sign of sun or a still and restful day. Notwithstanding the miserable outdoors, the windscreen wipers on your car never ceased in their duty to grant you a clear view of the road ahead. And whilst you were grateful for their devotion, it didn't feel clear in the slightest. In fact, the road had never felt so blurry.

Shivering against the cold night chill and tucking your knees cosily to your chest, you eyed the raindrops on the windows. They raced against one another before they dripped down to your car's body, their glossy presence obvious thanks to the many hues of street lamps that surrounded them. You could have watched them for hours, being honest. Something about the droplets of water battling it out quite enticing. Anything to take you away from the cruel reality you were living in.

Your heart ached and yearned. But to no avail, the one you ached and yearned for didn't love you back.

Not anymore, at least.

Just the mere thought provoked a pulsating pang to resonate throughout your entire body. A pang filled with grief and sadness. Anger and hurt. You missed his sun-kissed face on the sunny mornings. You missed his eyes and how they gazed at you from across the room. You missed the smiles and laughter he would only show for you and you alone. The sense of glee and euphoria that came with that honour. Yet all of it was gone and there was no way you could get it back.

The memories of what had been triggered more waterworks. Hot, salty tears dug at the corners of your eyes and trickled down your face. Your motionless car concealed your cries and sobs. Every thrash against the wheel as you questioned to nobody in particular what went wrong and why. How you didn't see the signs sooner. What you could have done better. When he stopped loving you. If he ever planned to stop loving you. Whether it would have hurt more if you found out sooner.

All these questions with nothing to answer them.

Katsuki Bakugou had always fascinated you. From the very moment you met. You accompanied your friend on a double date, and he was the guy who she matched for you. Whilst he originally acted as though a blind date was the last place he wanted to be, underneath the aggression you could tell there was something much more genuine and true.

And your assumptions were correct. Truth be told, Katsuki Bakugou was one of the most genuine and truest people you had met (at the time). Once it was just the two of you, he allowed his true colours to unveil. Through the smallest of kind gestures that still haunted your mind to this day. Then upon confrontation, as you bid each other goodbye at your back door, his denial resulted in a flirtatious contest which then proceeded to an intimate night that changed your life forever. From there your mind was set.

He was the one.

Emphasis on was.

So blinded with a fairy tale love you grew so accustomed to, you never saw it coming. Never in your two-year relationship - that had so much strength and commitment built on top of it, never did you think that Katsuki Bakugou would throw it all out of the window like it was nothing. Disregard your loyalty and adoration for a drunken one night stand that slowly became an occasional hookup. Which soon became a mandatory pastime once a fortnight. Then twice. Maybe more than that. You wouldn't put it past him with what you knew now.

He kept it from you for nearly six months. Six months. The only reason you discovered his lies and deception was because you were let off early one night from work. You worked a night shift, see. Your last job had fallen to shambles, and it was temporary whilst you searched for a new one. And whilst that did take a toll on your relationship with Katsuki Bakugou, mostly finding time for intimacy since his working hours were during the day, none of that gave him any right to go and do what he did.

That wasn't one of the only reasons, you knew that for sure. There were other motives for his lack of loyalty. But you were never told. After you froze at the sight of another woman under his hold and stormed straight back to your car to flee. After he chased you down the flights of stairs in nothing but baggy pants into the streets of a twilight Musutafu. After you screamed into the darkness and belted your fists against his chest. Fists that were driven with rage and hurt and every emotion that burned like the hottest of fires and froze like the coldest of ice. He never even told you. He never made an effort to address it. Nor had he attempted to call or even try to visit your Mom's house - where you stayed as you searched for a permanent place to live. Just because you retreated for your car and cried that it was over, he never tried. But that didn't mean you weren't allowed an explanation. An apology. Something to give you a form of closure and a reason to move on. But you never did.

That wasn't even what hurt the most, either.

As silly as it was, the thing that hurt you the most was the very car you sat in.

EIGHT MONTHS AGO . . .

The red glow of traffic lights hit Katsuki's vermilion irises as he stared dead ahead at the long line of vehicles, the ash-blond heaving a sigh into the air. His finger tapped impatiently against the steering wheel he gripped with one hand, the spare rested casually against your upper thigh affectionately.

"I can't believe we have to sit through this torture just to go to some damn party," Katsuki grumbled, taking a glance over at you. His brows furrowed when he met you peacefully slouched down, nose dug into your phone as you presumably played some sort of game to pass the time. Like you had no care in the world for your predicament.

"It's your best friend's birthday, love," You mused back, Katsuki surprised you even listened based on your focused expression directed towards your phone. "It's not like we can just miss it,"

"Yeah, but we could have missed all this pain by taking the train instead of driving across town during rush hour,"

"Trains are icky, the seats would have ruined your suit and my dress," You pointed out, looking at the blond over your screen, sending him a sweet smile. He cocked a brow, a smirk creeping its way onto his lips as a scoff of a laugh broke out between them.

"Right, and laying down like a sloth is gonna help keep your dress uncreased?" He returned, amused at your realisation. At his comment, you sat up faintly and pouted your lip.

"Driving means more time to play Gravity Pops, and so does traffic,"

"Seriously? That's the game you're playing? You're such a dumbass,"

"Yes! I'm in the top 11% globally! I need to get to number one!" Was your protest, your arms flailing ahead of you briefly for dramatic emphasis. Katsuki clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, though the small smile plastered over his lips betrayed his initial reaction. Unable to deny your determination, he spoke with confidence and almost a sense of pride.

"Number one, hm? Clearly rubbing off on you aren't I?"

"In a way, yes,"

"That's my girl," Katsuki remarked, earning a giggle from you that was uplifting to hear. It was there your attention went back to your phone, but Katsuki wasn't done. "So, speaking of cars, Y/N," Hearing his chosen tone - which sounded suggestive, you eyed him closely. Hesitant to reply as you had a sense of what he planned to say.

"...Yes?"

"Have you thought any more about getting your driver's license yet?"

Called it.

"...No,"

"What?" Katsuki began, tilting his head. He was surprised that he felt surprised. You had said those words in regards to this topic countless times. Still, he persisted. "Is that a no meaning you haven't or no meaning that you don't want to?"

"Both?" You half-guessed, sheepishly grinning at the look you were sent. "Look, cars scare me okay? And so do roads. And people. My nerves wouldn't be able to handle it! I can barely communicate with people face to face, so me being on the road is a recipe for disaster!"

"I know but -," Katsuki exhaled sharply, understanding your reasoning. You had voiced these concerns when confiding to Katsuki about your fears of the road. Something built and corrupted from social media as well as phobias and fears in general, it was a battle you had yet to overcome. You wanted to drive but was terrified of messing up or causing chaos on the road. Potentially inflicting harm to someone and yourself. You still weren't sure what triggered it all, but over the years it had manifested into something quite irrational, to say the least. Katsuki had been supportive of it and whilst he truly would love to always act as your personal taxi - you couldn't hide from it forever. It wasn't his job to keep you in your comfort zone. That, and he couldn't always be there for you that way. What if he was miles away and you had somewhere urgent to go like the hospital? "It's not as scary as you think. I know it's hard to believe that but seriously. The freedom you get from driving is amazing,"

"I'll think about it a little longer, okay?" You said with hesitancy, looking at Katsuki for a sign of confirmation. He nodded in defeat, knowing you probably needed more time and felt put on the spot. So he averted his eyes back to the road to check if the traffic had moved at all. It had not.

"Okay," Katsuki said. "But I can't be your taxi service forever,"

"But I like you being my taxi service," You jokingly said, a little sadness in your tone. "Your road rage is funny and I like watching you get out of the car and walk to my door after pulling up in my driveway,"

"What do you mean?" Katsuki asked, catching the twitch of a smile on your face upon saying those words. It struck his interest in what you could mean.

"You know, like when you say you're coming to pick me up?" You explained. "You pull up at my driveway and I don't know... simple things like that just remind me of how much I love you. It's dumb really, but it's important to me,"

"Really?" Katsuki questioned in disbelief. How something so small and meaningless could mean so much was puzzling. He couldn't understand why it was so special to you. But that didn't invalidate it in any shape or form. So he pushed that aside, replacing his wonder with gratitude. He returned to your bashful and flustered features, feeling a smile grow on his face.

"Yeah," You said, shrugging to downplay your words. "I love you. Stuff like that means a lot to me,"

"I love you too, even though you're a dumbass," Katsuki said, humbled by what you had said. The two of you shared a gentle exchange, your hand grabbing hold of Katsuki's as you gave it a squeeze. He squeezed back, and silence ensued. Had he realised such a thing sooner, then Katsuki would have pulled up in your driveway much more than he had been doing. But at that a thought struck his mind, victoriously smirking as he had an idea on how to potentially sway your worries. Or begin swaying it. Something was better than nothing, after all. "But what if I wanted you to pull up in my driveway one day?" His words caused you to look over at him in curiosity, hearing the seriousness in the question. It caught you off guard momentarily, having to contemplate as you gradually concluded that he had a point.

"Well one day, maybe I will," You vaguely replied and sat up a little bit. The hand holding yours pulled back and lifted to land on your shoulder, gripping reassuringly tight.

"I hope you do, I'd like to get in on this driveway action," He joked and smirked, faith riddled in his expression. You giggled ever so slightly, tempted to lean forward and peck Katsuki on the lips in thanks, but never a thing was to happen as the alerting red light from outside switched to warm amber.

"Ah!" Katsuki yelled in triumph, his attention leaving you swiftly as he got back into the driver's seat. Giving you no opportunity to respond to him and overall ruining the moment. "Took fucking long enough!"

The light turned green, and he set the car in motion, leaving you with your thoughts and the words he had uttered that day as the traffic stood still.

All your efforts, all your time devoted to getting over your fear of driving and the road as a whole... all of it was pointless. You did it for him. You promised him you would overcome your fears and better yourself. He built that motivation up brick by brick until you could grab hold and seize control. He wasted all that time to get you to reach such a stepping stone only to abandon it once it was through.

Just so you could pull up in his driveway, just like he requested. And what did you get in return when you finally did? A stab in the back and the loss of your other half.

You wiped your eyes via the sleeve of your hoodie, dampening the cuffs. Sniffling and exhaling a shaky breath, your gaze landed on nothing in particular. Yet somewhere within your clouded mind, you found interest. As that was where your gaze remained for a certain amount of time. You weren't sure how long exactly. It could have felt like an hour and only been five minutes. Or it could have felt like five minutes and was actually an entire hour. Either way, the clock ticked on and didn't wait for you to stop.

It was a good thing you had pushed your fears down and rose above them. It just pained you that you didn't even do it for yourself. Without Katsuki Bakugou, you never had any intentions of doing so. As a matter of fact, you had set out to take the train or bus for the rest of your life. Hell, you were going to use a bike and scooter if you got desperate. Had he even acknowledged how much work you put in just to get where you were? Was all that effort part of the reason why he decided to cheat? There was absolutely no telling. Absolutely no telling at all.

You wondered what he was doing now. Was he laid in bed resting peacefully? Out with his friends for a boy's night only? Maybe cooking his favourite curry? Possibly on a late-night jog despite the harsh weather? It never stopped him other times.

Did he ever think about you? Regret what he did and the actions he took? Had he ever considered apologising? Would he ever apologise? What if he was celebrating the fact you were no longer in his life? Had there ever been any love there for you in the start? Did he ever actually want you to get your driver's license because he believed in you? Or was it so he could get rid of you with much more ease? Make his departure less severe and less selfish? A way to justify his choices because it's not like you were hopelessly left to suffer everyday life now that you had a means of transport. Was he really that cruel?

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sharp jingle of your phone, the device lighting up as it sat in the passenger seat to your left. It took two or three rings for you to glance over at it, E/C eyes sore and drained from crying out. You squinted them to read the caller, seeing the name 'Work' fade in and out on the brightly lit screen. For a second or two you argued back and forth on whether to even bother picking up. Something about reaching across for your phone requiring a magnitude of energy you no longer possessed. Having spent it all on your cries of agony and the deprivation of your old life as a whole.

However, you had ignored your work in the last couple of weeks too many times now. So many times that pulling the same stunt again would probably risk you losing your job. It's not like your work was interested in why you felt such overwhelming pain... all they cared about was you turning up to do what you were hired to.

So using a forceful hand, you leaned over to pick it up. You fumbled to grip your phone and accepted the call with a dainty tap of your thumb. Then you blinked away your tears and subtly sniffed, pressing your phone to your ear to address the caller.

"Hello?" You practically croaked, quick to clear your throat and push any signs of upset down. It was presumably dry from how much you'd cried in the last two hours.

"L/N! Hey! Glad you finally picked up!" Unlike the droll and unvarying tones of your boss, the person on the other end was much more lively and greeting. So much so you could only assume it was none other than your work colleague, Etsuko. Probably the only person you genuinely liked where you worked, and the only person who made the time pass by faster. "I was worried you were gonna leave me on answer phone again,"

"Hm, what? Oh right. Yeah. Sorry about that. Haven't been feeling too great," You lied, even though it wasn't a complete fib. You hadn't been feeling great at all. You had never felt so rock bottom. It all just originated from your mind over anything else. But when did work care about that?

"Sounds like it, I hope you've been okay!" Still cheery as ever, Etsuko followed up with a laugh to fill the silence you created by not saying anything. "Is everything well? It's nothing serious, is it?"

"No. It's not. Just some dumb cold I caught," You excused. "I'm better now, though," Slouching down in your seat, you decided to ask the question that had been roaming your mind the last minute or so. "So why are you calling?"

"Oh, right!" Etsuko said. "Mr Kobashigawa was just wondering when you planned on coming back - for schedule reasons and to get people to fill in for your shifts,"

"I er...," Not entirely sure how to answer, you stuttered as your words cowered away in your attempt to speak. "I don't -,"

"It's okay, he doesn't need an answer yet," Etsuko reassured. "Maybe in the next day or two, though? He wasn't really specific, being honest,"

You sighed at the guilt brewing in your stomach. You weren't even sick for crying out loud! Why were you lying just so you could wallow in your own sadness?! Like that was going to change anything! Sitting around and crying wasn't going to give you what you wanted. You weren't getting him back. Katsuki Bakugou wasn't yours anymore. He made that clear by cheating. By making minimal effort to give you an explanation. By causing you so much pain with little care or concern. Why couldn't you get it through your thick skull that your feelings didn't matter anymore?! That they were being wasted on a lost cause. A lost relationship!

"Well I mean -," You started, running a hand through your hair as you tread carefully on your words. "I could come in tonight? Has Mr Kobashigawa got someone to fill for me yet?"

"Um... no? I don't think so?" Etsuko answered, uncertainty in her voice. "Let me go check. Be right back!" And with that, the line fell dead. The call didn't end, just Etsuko placing the phone down to get an answer for you. Leaving you all by your lonesome once more.

Reflecting, you could see the logic in your thoughts. The best course of action would be to hold your head up high and live life the way it was before. When you were happy. Just... excluding the factors that actually made you happy. Which was him. Wouldn't that be healthier than crying all the time?

Yes, it would. But was it what you wanted? Not really.

"L/N!" The voice in your ear startled you to the point you nearly dropped your phone, panicking through a gasp as you fiddled to grab hold of it again.

"Wa-! Careful you nearly scared me half to death!"

"Oops, sorry!" Etsuko giggled softy, sounding as perky as ever. "I'm just excited to tell you that nobody's filling in your shift! You can still come in for ten-thirty!"

"I-I can?" You asked. After an upbeat 'yeah!' filtered through your ears, you considered your options. Remaining in the serene, quiet confines of your car with only the downfall of rain to accompany you sounded like utter bliss, given how you felt. But you felt an internal kick up the backside which told you - no... demanded you to just get over this moping attitude of yours and look on the bright side. To get over the lack of closure and simply... move on.

Yeah... if he found out you were an utter train wreck thanks to the damage he inflicted; Katsuki Bakugou would probably revel in it. He had a history of gaining pleasure from other's misfortunes... or it was rumoured he did (during his younger years, anyway). You had never wanted to believe it but you couldn't find a reason to refute it anymore. After all you had been through, it seemed to fit his character and personality more than ever. So with that fact apparent, you held a firm forefront and searched for a determined tone, and made your answer to your friend.

"You betcha I'm coming in! I'll see you in half an hour!"

Too enthusiastic? Probably. Still, it was better than acting pessimistic and hopeless. No matter, however, because that was exactly the attitude Etsuko had been hoping for.

"Alrighty!" She exclaimed, smile audible in her voice from the other end. "I can't wait to get our dynamic duo going again! I've missed you!"

"Yeah, me too, 'Suko," You hummed in agreement.

"Great! Catch ya later my partner in crime,"

"Heh. You too, dumbass," You found a reason to smile from her childish behaviour, though your choice of wording seemed to hit a nerve. It did more than that, it practically reverted all that confidence and progress you had made in the last ten minutes of being on the phone. All from one innocent word that escaped your lips.

Dumbass.

That's what he used to call you.

The phone call had ended without you even noticing, your phone still pressed to your ear as a small buzz sounded into it. You stared dead ahead, flashes of all the times he had said that word to you running through your memory. It was his form of a pet name. Some might see it as a little degrading on the surface, but you never minded. Once you learned the deeper meaning of the name, it became something equivalent to the likes of 'Sunshine' or 'Angel'. If anything, you ended up preferring it to those sorts of nicknames. Hence why Katsuki Bakugou had called you it on so many occasions.

No. Stop it. You can't let something like that bother you. Not after the efforts you just went to. Stop. Shaking yourself out of it, you returned to reality and permitted your phone to drop onto your lap. Your hand once holding it gripped onto your steering wheel, the other following shortly behind to do the same.

"I love you too, even if you're a dumbass,"

That rung in your head one final time, tormenting and mocking your present. The things you'd be willing to do to hear him say that to you one last time...

"No," You firmly shook your head, banging it lightly against the headrest to return yourself to reality. An attempt to knock those words to the back of your mind where you could lock them in a securely tight safe for the rest of eternity. "Just... just don't think about it. Easy. Just focus on what you're doing now," You reached for your keys which sat in the ignition, taking hold and turning them ever so slightly. Your car stirred to life, engine rumbling and the dials lighting up in a form of warm greeting. "You're going to work. No more feeling sorry for yourself,"

No more feeling sorry for yourself.

Your eyes set themselves on the road ahead. The vacant, dark and solitary road that didn't wait for you to make your decision. Life moved on after all, so if you were going to do anything - it was to catch up and take the winning lead.

So despite your circumstances; your inner desires and wishes and begs for what you wanted back but to no avail would ever get, you pulled out of your parking space (which had long exceeded the time limit, thankfully nobody was around to see) that drowned in pitiful rains of the night, and began to make your way down the street. In search of a place better than the one you were trapped in.

An endless road that wasn't all that clear, you were going to tackle it. Not for anyone else, unlike the last time you met difficulty and hardships. No, no, no. This time it was for your sake. All the mental energy to recover and become a better version of yourself, in the endgame it was all for you. You could push past all the deceit and lies you had been told and you could push past your normality which was him. Katsuki Bakugou. The man that hurt you as nobody had ever done before. You could create new normality without him.

A thought of forever he created and destroyed, resorted to driving alone past his street, never to be thought of again.

[theredsuzuran]

Yandere Muzan x Reader

I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors, also for my crappy writing I hope It does not bore you lol. Slight mention of gore

It was the time of summer

A multitude of people hovering over one another in the vast space of the lively Asakusa city occupying the streets like tiny ants. Unfortunately it was same monotonous sight for kibutsuji Muzan progenitor of the morbid demon race, who seems to be roaming around uninterestingly looking for a suitable prey to hunt. The fleeting lives of mortals, their compassion, happiness, sorrow, pain held no value to him. They are pests who belong in the dirt or beneath his feet, inferior compare to a perfect being like himself. Nothing more than a tool that he won't hesitate to discard after his desires are fulfilled. All of a sudden his gaze felt upon a petite figure near a tailor shop, a large number of people gathering around her.

What's the matter, mister? Muzan inquired to a man next to him.

"if you are new definitely try her kimonos, now make way" the man said quickly as he rushed to the shop pushing all the people away. He was interested to know what the deal was about so he decided to stay for a while hoping it's worth the wait.

After a long delay muzan finally got the chance to view the women. As their eyes locked the dazzling city lights broader than the day itself felt dull in comparison for a moment, the once monochromatic world seems to change vibrantly with her luminous presence, As if goddess Amaterasu, the diety of sun herself have ascended from the heaven into the mortal realm. The demon lord stood there mesmerized by her breathtaking beauty, how can someone so close to perfection exist alongside those barbarians.

"How can I help you mister?" She questioned politely with her soft vocal. His endless thoughts were interrupted breaking the silence.

"Show me your kimonos"

And so his obsession started..

Days passed since his last encounter with the woman. He have come across numerous marvelous humans in everlasting lengthy life but never have his ruby eyes caught a glimpse of someone as alluring as her. The girl possesses an unique aura that differentiated her from the rest of the crowd, able to draw attention from the cold hearted creator of cannibalistic demons. At first muzan was just curious to know about that woman, possibly persuade her to become one of his underling because of the potentials she may carry. He frequently begun to visit her shop to but or sew different fabrics. Gaining basic information, like her name, likes and dislikes, etc. Her grandfather owned the tailor shop which sold finest quality garments from the beginning and were highly respected for their excellent tailoring. Continued by (y/n) at her family's will, who runs the shop with equal undying devotion.

She treated him with such kindness even though he was a ruthless demon not that she knew about it or let alone the existence of demons. The deepest corner of his dark heart illuminated with pure light whenever she was around and he came to the conclusion that she was the ray of sunshine he desires to perceive. Eversince he was cured from his fatal illness the only goal in his life was to conquer the sun which prevents him to achieve absolute perfection, in order to live an eternal and indestructible life or so he thought until that very day his eyes laid upon you. It would be stupid to think that demons are capable of experiencing love, concepts of feelings are completely foreign in their conciousness, it was more like obsession. His megalomania makes him believe he needs you no he wants you.

Alas, if only it was a fairytale. The king does not always gets what he desires and same goes for the demon lord when he finds out that his beloved darling already has a lover. As he witnessed the sight of you hugging your partner with passion. The way her eyes flutter infront of him when he caresses her cheeks making her turn away bashfully and how she hold his hand with her delicate ones while exchanging vows of love and loyalty towards each other made his blood boiled with fury. If anyone who can hold her fragile frame is none other but the demon lord himself yet there she was sharing intimacy with some filthy creature. His narcissistic self was put down with a lowlife, he cannot accept that his (y/n) was claimed someone else's. It was something he would never allow to happen.

"Kibutsuji san would you like to buy something today as well?" The women who now acknowledge his presence asked him cheerfully.

"Should I visit you later" a force smile graced on his pale features.

"Oh no, it's fine, let me introduce you to my fiancee" she said excitedly.

"Nice to meet you kibutsuji san" your fiancee said

"Pleasure to meet you as well" The demon scoffed under his breath but Kibutsuji was quite adamant he knew it was not hard to turn the tables anytime sooner as with a blink of an eye he can get rid of him by simply ordering his underlings without even hesitating to dirty his hands exclusive for his precious darling. But that was not what muzan was planning to do at all as his mind was engulfed with much sinister thoughts.

To insanity?

"You have been restless for a long time, what's wrong my child?" A man asked with a look of concern written all over his face looking straight at the figure of an anxious woman roaming around impatiently within the house.

"Its been a week father since he last wrote a letter to him" she mumbled softly disappointment painted across her features. The father could not help but laugh a little by her daughter's remark.

"Father please it is serious"

"I am sorry sweetheart but it might be that your fiancee is busy with wedding preparation" which made sense because the wedding would be taking place after three day and it was obvious that he was caught up with the arrangement. However there was a strange feeling inside her stomach which made her believe otherwise.

As the days passed the wedding day came close, with (y/n) still not receiving any message from her lover. Worried her to the core at this point all she wanted was to make sure of his safety as something constantly felt off. The guests came in one by one for the wedding ceremony but there was no sign of the groom.

It was getting unbearable for her to remain confined. Ignoring her father's request to stay inside she went outside in hope to check whether or not her lover was approaching but once again she was greeted with emptiness. Her eyes swell up with tears forming on both corners allowing her body to slowly hit the surface as she convinced herself that her lover will never come. The worst was yet to happen and before she could make any movement the ground beneath her feet started shaking and a shoji door opened consuming her into the darkness.

It was just the start of her miserable life under the demon's control.

"So you are finally awake", a sudden voice came echoing into her eyes as she slowly opened her eyes after regaining her consciousness. She moved her hands upwards in order to ease the headache only to find her hands tied up with shackles, a chilling sensation of overwhelming fear filled her entire senses as she remembered what happened prior.

"Where am I? Why am I chained?" Who are you?" she demanded furiously at the mysterious figure infront her which was now advancing at her direction from the dark corner of the dimly litted room.

"You are quite an impatient one?" The man gripped her chin roughly as her eyes protruded out with bewilderment.

"Can't even remember your daily customer?" A wicked smile curved across his countenance.

"K..Kibutsuji san" she parted her lips. Tears forming in her eyes once again. This made muzan even more irritated as he tightened his grip on her chin. (Y/n) whimpered with pain crying out loud.

"Your shouting won't help dear nobody apart from me can hear you scream" he said bluntly with his cold apathetic voice.

"Why?" (Y/n) lowered her head down holding his hand with her delicate ones trying her best to get a hold of him.

"Pardon?" Muzan inquired as he stared at your quivering form with his souless eyes there was no empathy in them or whatsoever although he felt pity. He cannot deny the fact that he was indeed attracted to her that's the reason why he put her into so much hassles.

"Where is my lover?" She asked sternly with her voice shaking a bit.

"Oh" muzan responded his hand still holding her chin tightly. This made her even more anxious she was unaware of the power he might possess and definitely she didn't had any intentions to risk her life.

"Why can't you humans move on and accept circumstances given before you?" it startled her as she cannot process what he meant.

"I don't.. u..understand" she said.

"Then you have to learn to accept me as your partner" muzan replied coldly (y/n) sat there looking at him with disbelief her heart and soul belonged to someone else and for a long time they have been together it's absolutely impossible to change the reality she was accustomed with just because some maniac wants to make her his partner.

"I can never" she murmured with disgust hinted in her voice. "I love him" throwing daggers in his direction not ready to submit her futile attempts of protest should pissed the demon lord even more but to her surprise she saw him smiling menacingly and in the corner of her eyes she saw the figure of her debilitate lover.

"Start from his fingers" muzan ordered one of his subordinate as they began chopping one of his finger making him scream in pain.

"No! please don't hurt him" trying to break free from the shackles she was tied with realizing it was fruitless she fell on the demon's knee begging with all the strength left within her in a last desperate attempt.

"You left me with no other choice, dear" he explained playing his sick games of manipulation on her. This was exactly what he needed to break her mind and she cannot help but rely on him pleading for his forgiveness feeding on his massive ego providing him ultimate satisfaction to witness the quivering frame of his darling clinging onto his knee in pure submission.

"Please I will do anything you say" she requested shaking like crazy.

"Anything?" Muzan questioned raising his eyebrow

"Yes" she replied without any hesitation.

"Be mine"

She already knew that he wanted this and she readily obliged in order to save her beloved, sacrificing her own life. Her only purpose was now to satisfy the demon lord, he was successful until the very end and it won't take long to make her completely his.

[peachybun-bun]

Trying to surprise Kun by attempting to make him a fancy homemade dinner. But you kinda fail at it pretty miserably cuz cooking just isn’t your thing. But you still manage to keep it okay and edible. But you’re rlly rlly upset. Kun comes back and he’s a sweetheart so he absolutely loves all the effort you gave but you were still upset about not being able to cook as good as him. So he gives you a little cooking lesson to cheer you up. But he just can’t focus cuz you look so pretty in your apron, and so unbelievably sexy while concentrating and following his instructions. After you’re done plating, you’re all giggly and happy at yourself for being able to ace the recipe and Kun thinks its just so cute that he pulls you in for a kiss and its cute at first but then it turns heated and yk what happens next 😎🙈

This is such a cute scenario. I would love a cooking lesson from him.

You stare at the plates of food and groan in disgust. You were just going to have to throw them out. They look gross, and you were sure you wouldn't feed it to a dog. This is why you never cook, because it's clear you're awful at it.

You grab the plates and turn to toss the food out, when you almost run into Kun who had snuck in behind you. "Oh, shit," you mutter as you almost tip the contents of the plates onto him. "Sorry. I didn't know you were there!"

He laughs and shakes his head a little, reaching out to steady you. "I should have announced myself. What are you doing?" he asks, looking down at the plates.

"I'm throwing these out. I tried to cook, and I failed. So, now they're getting thrown out," you explain, starting towards the trash can.

"Wait, I don't even get to try it?"

You shake your head and look back at him. "No. Look at them! You want to eat this? It's disgusting. I should have just ordered food. We both know I can't cook, so I don't know why I tried," you ramble, sniffing quietly. The more you thought about it, the more upset you got.

Kun shoots you a small smile and holds his hand out for a plate. "Let me try."

"No," you reply simply, before tipping the plates into the trash. You scrape off the food and just about throw the plates back onto the counter. "We can just order a pizza. I was trying to surprise you with dinner, but I shouldn't ever be allowed near a kitchen again."

He sighs and reaches for you, reaching up to wipe under your eyes, where tears were threatening to fall. "Hey. I love that you did this for me," he says, leaning over to press a soft kiss to your lips. "How about we do a cooking lesson instead."

"I'm hopeless."

He shakes his head and smiles at you. "No, you're not. Come on. We'll make something easy." He pats your side gently, before moving to grab ingredients for a new dinner.

You are careful in following his instructions, concentrating on what you were doing so you don't screw it up. You want to get it right for him, and for your pride.

Kun keeps sneaking glances at you, unable to help but think you are cute when you are trying so hard. He is impressed with how well you're doing, grinning broadly as you finish plating the food.

You look down at the plates, which look infinitely better than what you had done earlier, and blink in surprise. "I did that?"

"You did that."

You laugh and bounce a little on the balls of your feet, feeling pretty proud that you made such a good looking dish. "I did that! Babe, I can cook! You're the best teacher ever," you praise, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips.

He wraps his arms around you and grins as you pull back, shaking his head a little. "You are an excellent teacher. It was really sexy watching you," he whispers, before pressing his lips to yours in another kiss.

You groan happily into it, sliding your hands around to his back. You deepen the kiss, your tongue slipping past his lips to meet his. You walk backwards to lean against the counter as you continue to kiss, dinner long forgotten.

[skywalkersthelimit]

Okay so I'm super nervous to post this but I wrote this one-shot for the #trikey fandom. Ive had this idea for awhile but I finally got around to writing it. It's based off the song Lips of an angel by Hinder. I think its perfect for Michael and Trevor lol so please let me know what you think and I hope you enjoy!

Honey, why are you calling me so late?

It’s kinda hard to talk right now 

Honey, why are you crying, is everything okay? 

I gotta whisper 'cause I can't be too loud 

Michael woke up to his phone ringing on his bedside table. He knew who it was before he even looked. He didn’t know how or why because it could have been a number of people. He reached over and grabbed the phone. His eyes squinted from the bright light. Trevor. He was both glad and disappointed he was right but he supposed he might have willed it to be. His thoughts had been filled with his crew mate, best friend and sometimes more, but that was before Amanda and the kids. Well that wasn’t entirely true. Every time they went on a job together, they fell into each other as soon as they were alone in their hotel room. Michael just couldn’t help himself. 

It had been a few months since he had seen Trevor though. He tried to put distance between them. He knew that Trevor had a hard time just sleeping together on occasions and understanding Michael had a family to go home to. Michael wanted nothing more than for his friend to be happy but he just couldn’t be the one to give it to him.

He stared as the phone rang and debated answering but he pictured Trevor’s face the last time he had seen him with tears rolling down his face, begging Michael to stay. His heart clenched and he answered.

“Hello?” he whispered. He looked over at Amanda still sleeping. He had to be quiet. He didn't want to wake her and have her find out who he was talking to. He didn’t feel like fighting tonight. 

“Hey." Trevor’s voice rang out on the other side of the phone. 

“Jesus, Trev. Do you know what time it is?” He flinched as the words left his mouth. He didn’t mean to sound upset but he did. 

Trevor laughed dryly. 

“Oh I’m sorry, Princess. Am I interrupting your beauty sleep? I thought I might call my best friend who hasn’t talked to me in months” he said coldly. 

“Trevor, if you want to talk you can call and you can call during the day.” Amanda moved next to him. He had to be quiet. 

“Works both ways. If you wanted to talk you would have called. But you didn’t.” His voice cracked and ended in a broken sob. Michael hated himself a little more. 

“T, why are you crying? Is everything okay?” he whispered. He wished he was there with Trevor right now. He would pull him into his arms and hold him until the tears stopped like he always did. 

“Speak up M. I cant hear you" 

“I have to be quiet or I’ll wake up-" he let his sentence go unfinished, trying to be careful not to set T off. 

“Ah, of course. Wouldn’t want to wake the Mrs. I’ll let you go." He could hear the anger, the jealousy, the sadness, and the pain in Trevor’s voice. 

“No!” he said rather loudly. He snapped over to look at Amanda, who just turned over on her side away from him. He sighed. “Don’t go. Just- Hang on.” He got out of bed quietly and snuck out the room. He grabbed his cigarettes off the counter and sat down on the couch, lighting one up and taking a deep inhale and exhale. He wasn't supposed to smoke in the house, but fuck it. 

Well, my girl's in the next room

Sometimes I wish she was you

I guess we never really moved on

It's really good to hear your voice saying my name

It sounds so sweet

Coming from the lips of an angel

Hearing those words - it makes me weak

And I never wanna say goodbye

But, girl, you make it hard to be faithful

With the lips of an angel

“Now tell me what’s going on, Trev. I can't be too loud. Mandy and the kids are in the other room asleep" he explained. 

“I-I don’t know. I just needed to hear your voice.” Trevor replied quietly, his voice soft and tight like he was trying to stop himself from crying. Michael wondered what had him so upset. He had heard he had a boyfriend of sorts from Lester and apparently they’ve been doing jobs together for L since Michael saw T last. When L told him, he saw red. He got wasted and wound up outside screaming and crying at the night sky. Trevor was his, but he wasn't and he never would be. He didn’t want to but he hoped Trevor was calling to tell him he left that guy and to ask when Michael was coming back to work, to him. There was also a chance Trevor was calling because he was drunk and cranked out. Either due to said guy or something else or even for the hell of it. He might be in trouble or lying somewhere drugged out.

“Is it that guy you’re with?” Michael realized how incredibly jealous he sounded but maybe he was. Maybe he missed being on the road, never staying in one place too long. Maybe he missed the thrill of the job, and maybe he missed looking over in the middle of a heist and grinning at Trevor who was grinning just as hard back. Maybe he missed pulling Trevor into a hard kiss as soon as their hotel door shut and having the most passionate nights of his life, and then falling asleep in his lover’s arms. Maybe he even missed the times they just sat on the bed and talked for hours about any and everything. Maybe sometimes he wished it was Trevor who was in the other room, waiting for him to come back to bed. 

“How-how do you even know about that?” Trevor asked, sounding surprised. 

“Lester.” 

“Of fucking course. Well not that it’s any of your business but he's asleep. It ain’t like he’s my boyfriend or anything. You know I ain’t they settling type. There’s only one exception. Fuck. I miss you, Mikey.” He sobbed. 

“Trev-" 

“It's okay. I understand. It’s just so good to hear your voice, Mikey.” There goes that nickname again. A nickname only Trevor called him. A nickname that sounded so sweet coming from Trevor’s lips. Like an angel. A fallen angel maybe. 

“It's really good to hear your voice too T. Mikey. That’s a name I haven't heard in awhile” he said fondly. 

“What, too good to be called Mikey anymore?” T said annoyed. 

“No, not at all. Although you are the only one who calls me that, but I like it.” He felt his cheeks flush and his heart flutter as he spoke. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. Now tell me what’s going on please."

“When are you gonna do a job? It’s been months. We miss you out there. I miss you. I-I need you, Mikey. Please come back to me. I can't stop thinking about you. You haunt me every waking moment, and even in my dreams. Do you dream of me?” Hearing those words made Michael feel weak. He almost told Trevor he was on his way, grabbed his car keys and left without a second thought, but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t leave his children. He might do a few jobs now and then but he wouldn’t choose that life over them. No matter how bad he craved it, craved him.

It's funny that you're calling me tonight

And, yes, I've dreamt of you too

And does he know you're talking to me?

Will it start a fight?

No, I don't think she has a clue

“Trevor, I-I want to be there. You know I do, but I got Tracey and Jimmy to think about, but I think about you too. All the time. Especially lately. It’s funny you called. And yeah, I’ve dreamt of you too T.” He didn’t know why he was being so open about this, about whatever it was between them, but hearing how broken Trevor sounded and how it matched how he felt inside, he knew they both needed to hear it. To hear that Michael cared about him, that he missed Trevor just as much as he missed him. 

“Oh yeah? What’d you dream about, cowboy?” he asked and Michael could picture his thick eyebrows wagging. He laughed, genuinely laughed. Something he hadn’t done since the last time he saw Trevor. 

“It wasn’t like that. Well not all like that.” Now it was Trevor’s turn to laugh. 

“Tell me.” He told Michael. 

“We were in a nice house, our house. We were happy.” He whispered, afraid of the way his dream made him feel. He didn’t want to dream of Trevor, of their future that would never be. He wished he could let Trevor go, but he didn’t think he ever fully would. 

“It doesn’t have to be a dream, Mikey. The kids can be in your life, our life.” Trevor pleaded. Michael had to change the subject before he agreed. 

“What about that guy you've been seeing? Does he know you’re talking to me? Won't he get mad?” 

"I told you he's not my boyfriend. I don't care if he gets mad, but no, he doesn't know I'm talking to you. He doesn't know anything about you except you're the great Michael Townley, expert thief. He actually wants to meet you." Trevor laughed dryly at that. "What about Amanda? Does she know you're talking to me? Does she know anything?" 

Does she know anything, meaning does she know when Michael goes away to work he all but forgets about her? Does she know that his nights with Trevor are filled with more passion than their whole marriage has ever seen? Does she know that Michael's heart will never fully belong to her?

"No, no I don't think she has a clue, Trev." He sighed. The guilt constantly ate at him and he tried so hard to be the husband she deserved, the father his children deserved, but he never would me. He belonged to the game, to Trevor, but it didn't matter. How he felt didn't matter, couldn't matter. He would push his feelings down to the bottom of his heart with a smile. 

"Mikey. I miss you so much. So much it hurts. I can't get you out of head, out of my heart. I've tried drugs and alcohol. I've tried fucking anyone in sight and even getting a wannabe you, but nothing works. I've tried telling myself you're better off with her, but you're not. You're miserable and so am I. Please just do the best thing for you, for us." He begged through sobs. Michael could hardly make out what he was saying.

He felt tears rolling down his face. He felt Trevor's words stab his soul. He tried to drown Trev out too. He drank so much even he was worried. He smoked several packs of cigarettes a day. He went to strip clubs almost every night and almost every time he brought one of the girls to his car or a hotel for a quick fuck. He just wanted to feel numb, to never know the pain of loving someone you could never be with. What was that saying? It's better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. He wasn't sure if he agreed, but inevitably he did. He would feel this pain a thousand times just to know what it was like to love and be loved by this man. What it felt like to lay in his arms as he rubbed his back and kissed his head. He couldn't give that up. He wasn't ready for that. 

"I'm gonna call Lester tomorrow and get a job set up. I'll let you know where to go. Everything will be okay. I'll see you in a few days. I promise. Okay?" 

"Yeah okay, but what about-" Michael cut him off. 

"We'll talk about everything then." He knew he was lying and Trevor probably did too. They both knew he would never be able to leave his family and that pretty little white lies would have to suffice them. 

"Okay Mikey, I'll see you in a few days. And you better show up" he threatened, half jokingly. 

"I'll be there, Trev. And Trev?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Next time call me during the day" he said chuckling. 

"Yes princess. See ya soon Mikey." He said before hanging up. 

Trevor just makes it too hard to be faithful and Michael was weak. 

[curiousconch]

Rose-colored Glass 

Chapter 11 of Ricochet (An Open Heart AU)

Catch up here: Series Masterlist

Chapter Synopsis: As winter began its rein in Boston, Heather finds a way to cope with her trauma, discovering the truth while remembering her past. 

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x MC (Dr. Heather Song)

Words: 1.8k+ | Genre: Crime, Suspense/Thriller, Romance

Rating/Warnings: Mature (16+) / emotional trauma, death

Author's Notes: This week has been hard for me, and writing this chapter was unimaginably difficult because of it. Thankfully, like Heather, I found a way to cope, and people to help me get through with it. So instead of moping around, I finished this, inspired by the hauntingly beautiful classic song La Vie En Rose (I listened to this particular version on repeat). So, this is for you Nina, rest well in heaven. 

Thank you so much for taking time to read this series. Please let me know if you want me to include/remove you in the tags list. Also, disclaimer: Majority of the characters are owned by Pixelberry, except the main character Heather Song. I also do not claim ownership over the lyrics of La Vie en Rose embedded in this chapter.

Heather's discharge went smoothly, contrary to the time she spent in recovery. Her friends needed to stay behind to complete their shifts, and although Kyra offered to take her home, she refused. She needed to do something first. Heather did agree to let her bring her things back to the apartment, with one exception.

 Her slimmed fingers tightly gripped on the straps of the small bag she was carrying. The sunglasses she brought along tucked on the collar of her salmon sweater, not needing it anymore due to the cluster of clouds that blocked out the sun. Although it was almost noon, the chilly weather provided some semblance of shade as the heels of her boots thumped softly against the soft white snow-covered ground. 

Her gray coat was sprinkled small flakes of snow, as she navigated herself easily amongst the unmarked path, that if a spectator observed, they would readily know that she visited this place often. 

Heather's steps halted as she neared a willow tree, standing in front of a moss-colored headstone, aged by the almost seven years of Boston rain. 

Despite the gloom of her surroundings, Heather's lips curled into a smile, as she kneeled down to gently place the bouquet of pink roses she bought along the way. 

"Hi mom," she said, as the tips of her fingers skimmed the name carved in stone. "I'm sorry it took me so long to visit again. Things have been a little rough." 

She went still for a moment, relishing the poignant silence in remembrance. 

More than her ambition of being trained by America's top diagnostician, this was the reason why she chose Edenbrook. To be near her, to be in her mother's home city, it somehow filled the emptiness of missing her so much. To walk on the same pavements, to spend time in the same parks and places she's been to brought Heather nothing but the strength and determination to make something out of her once miserable life. Whenever she doubted herself, or when she was about to give up, the thought of her mom fighting a sickness no one should endure, gave Heather the much needed relief and energy to get back up again. 

And that's the reason she stood there that cold winter morning. She needed her mom to come through her once again. 

Heather closed her eyes momentarily, letting the rush of the nauseating trauma of the past few weeks resurface. Her whole being has run out dry, weakening her knees. She just felt so numb inside. 

So without inhibitions, she recalled the recent events that turned her life upside down. She told about the threats over her life, and how close she was to her own death. She spoke about Raf and their recent fallout, how heartbreaking it was but relieving at the same time. She brought up Bryce last. 

"This man, mom... I can't even begin to explain how I feel about him," Heather said as she rubbed a hand over her temple. "There's something about him that I just couldn't describe. It's been there since I've first met him, and it's still here until now..." 

Her head dropped low in between her shoulders, as she remembered with fondness the emotions that Bryce stirred within her the first time they met, leading up to their frustrating confrontation. Heather irked as the thought of her failure came. 

"But somehow, I messed it up. I picked someone else, because I was too afraid..." she revealed. She knew what she felt around him, but did her best to bury it. "Although I often wondered of what we could be, or what we could have been, the deep-seated fears of heartbreak, of what you and dad went through... I just couldn't act on it." she admitted. 

"Yet when I was faced with the choice between life or death, all I had was his words, no one else's," she paused, recalling how she soldiered on towards her own escape, empowered by the same declaration during their day out in the trampolines. 

"But now I'm afraid I'm too late, mom. I may have missed out on something great... Your daughter is a coward," she bit her lip, her eyes glistening. "Am I really too late?" 

The question felt like a cliffhanger, never to be answered. 

Sighing deeply, she collected her remaining energy to unzip the small bag she brought with her. She wrapped her hands around the neck of the instrument, pulling out a mahogany-stained ukelele. It was the last gift that she received from her mom, the very same she used to play her songs during their rare downtime.

She tucked its body between her arm and chest, as she tightened its strings with the tuners. With one satisfied strum, she began to sing the song that she and her mom always sang during the roughest period of their lives. 

Hold me close and hold me fast

The magic spell you cast

This is la vie en rose

When you kiss me heaven sighs, 

And though I close my eyes 

I see la vie en rose

In a rush, those simple words tingled her sensations in reminiscence from flashes of her adolescence - the late night talks, the bonding over ramen noodles, her alcoholic initiation by soju, those times that they saw a movie together, the smell of pancakes and eggs in the morning. 

In the few short years they were given, Heather treasured each memory more than anything in her life. Even the tragedy of watching her mom deteriorate because of her sickness, of those last months spent in a cramped hospital ward, she wouldn't trade it even for a pot of gold. Though in pain, her mother would whisper promises that she'll always be there for her, no matter what. Until her last breath, she held her daughter's hand. Those were priceless, shared souvenirs of a life well-lived. Of a life Heather hoped she could lead. 

When you press me to your heart

I'm in a world apart, a world where roses bloom

And when you speak, angels sing from above

Everyday words seem to turn into love songs

Give your heart and soul to me

And life will always be

La vie en rose

Within those short verses contained the life lesson her mom taught her over and over again - to see life through rose colored glasses. Singing it reminded her that even if she was long gone, the memory of her will be embedded within, whispering that no matter what, there's a reason to continue living. 

Smiling through her tears, her head tilted up to the heavens, praying that the divine could carry her thanks to her mom. For once again, in the most difficult time of her life, she did follow through. 

As a sense of peace weaved itself through her, she opened her eyes and felt the clouds dissipate. With it were the frayed edges of the shadows of fear, regret and anger. And although she knew that it will still haunt her, she was content that healing has at least begun. 

After a few more moments of silence, she placed the ukelele back into the bag and glanced endearingly upon the headstone. She skimmed her fingers over her mother's name, vowing to come back soon. 

She swiveled herself to the opposite direction and began the path back to the cemetery gates, when her hazel orbs fell upon a pair of familiar leather shoes and gray slacks, making her stop in her tracks.

When she titled her head to see the face she expected to see, a pair of amber eyes met hers that made her breath hitch. They were filled with warmth and affection that heated the cold air and melted her inside.

"You're not too late," Bryce finally said, breaking into the quiet. His mouth formed a lopsided smile, his hands shoved into the pockets of his black coat which edges reached to his knees. 

"Seems like it," Heather replied, snapping out of the daze that suddenly came over her, lips curving. "Wait, you heard everything?" 

Bryce couldn't stifle a chuckle as he nodded, the adrenaline that rushed through him earlier as he tried to track her down slowly draining from him. A new and overwhelming feeling took its place as he planted the soles of his shoes on the soft snow, bridging the gap between them. 

Once he was near enough, he gently wrapped an arm around Heather's waist, pulling her close. The knuckles of his other hand brushed her jawline until his thumb grazed her chin. His gaze lingered down on hers, completely magnetized by the depths of the windows of her soul, begging for her consent. 

Heather's palms settled onto the nape of his neck, her lips parting to grant him permission. 

In a heartbeat, Bryce tenderly pressed his lips upon hers, releasing the long-running yearning they buried so well. Unspoken words no longer need to be said aloud, clarity dawning in them both as their mouths crashed. Soft moans escaped from them as they deepened their passionate kiss, unrestrained in expressing their newfound freedom. 

When at last they stopped to catch their breaths, Bryce leaned his forehead on hers, understanding that his unrequited love was never unanswered, only delayed. That after a year of pining, here she was, standing in front of him, a realization of a dream that for so many times he willed to come true. After all the nights of hoping and hurting, he couldn't help but be overwhelmed by the sight of her in his arms. A thought poked into his mind as he started to recall where they were. 

"Well this is awkward..." the young lawyer muttered,  with a sudden shift in his voice. 

"Hm?" Heather's eyes snapped open, dumbfounded. 

"I know I always wanted to kiss you," he grinned as he paused, before continuing, "but never in a million years did I think that the first time I did is in front of your mom."

At first her brows furrowed, but seeing Bryce's mischievous expression, Heather couldn't keep herself from laughing. 

Inspired by the music of her genuine laughter, Bryce joined in. The sound of their giggles echoing through the poignant space around them. 

Heather can't remember the last time when she laughed this hard. There were so many things that hung over her head that she almost forgot how to do it. But with Bryce, it came so easily. A sense of joy began to bloom in her, and when she saw the same glint in his eyes, she knew he felt exactly the same. 

With their fingers intertwined and arms around each other's, they walked the path that only earlier they trudged separately. And now with their hearts finally out in the open, their tracks carved into the thin sheet of snow, unveiling the lush greens of the grass hidden beneath, eager to leaving what's behind, together.

Tags: @eleanorbloom @ramsey-lahela @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

[imaginesbymk]

PINK + WHITE.

—chapter nine ; with heat & wet skin.

summary: teresa’s permanent resignation from the peaky blinders leads her to a whole new chapter of working in an art museum. but little did she know her best life would be butchered some time later when her former lover tommy shelby gives her no choice but to return to the peaky blinders after they make new enemies, with the leader, of all people, being the man teresa fell in love with one night after a wedding reception back in post world war; luca changretta. 

pairing: luca changretta x OC x tommy shelby

tags in this chapter: swearing, implied nsfw, drinking, mentions + drug use

[ chapter index / meet my oc / wattpad link ]

MASON was quick on his feet when he was given the slightly odd request Teresa had asked him to do last minute. It had nothing to do with the gallery or with separation of last minute business meetings to be scheduled in the margins of the diary. It was just that he had to safely track down a dangerous man. Luca Changretta was still in England, hot-headed with a plan.

Teresa loved fur shawls. Though she detested how the cheap ones she could afford wore out from time to time, from the "fur" falling out like leaves from a tree in autumn, or even its colour turning from new to depressed (and even she grew so envious over the women who wore the luxurious, expensive ones at parties). Tommy Shelby never bothered with buying her what she wanted, which she was fine with, but one man with the Italian genes spoiled her with one that she kept in her closet. A grey-ish white. Teresa often takes one look at it, before sliding it over to reach the silky see-through shawl when she is simply relaxing in her home. At parties she debated even thinking of taking it out, but then there was the other shawl that was made of black fur, and it closed together with a silver clip to keep her shoulders warm.

The fur shawl was just like the painting she avoids at her own work. Both were so beautiful and timeless, both sharing personal meaning. But tonight, it finally saw light from staying in the wardrobe closet for too long. Teresa held it out in front of her, then clutched it in her arms.

The bar was built together with grey walls, none sound-proof. On the other side you could hear the jazz band playing music for the party, or footsteps from the owner or a bartender heading out back for more stocking of gin. If you were on that side, you'd hear the giant doors spring open from the doorman that allowed Teresa to enter inside. The man at the counter watched as her dress fell all the way down to her heels, not too long so she wouldn't trip. Her hair was in its curls once more, and wrapped around like comfort was the fur.

She reached a booth and set her purse on the table. "White wine."

"Ma'am-" the server goes.

"A man will be joining me very soon." Teresa made a smile, as the unescorted woman if Luca were to not show up. Had she imagined if Luca burned the invitation letter she mailed to his hotel, or simply tossed it away, in future to be used as scratch paper, or even as a roll up (if Luca is one of the many people that did snow), she may have just wasted her time getting dolled up just to not be served at her booth.

"Last time I met up with a woman at a bar, she proposed a deal, and lied straight to my face."

She shot her head up.

Those eyes.

Looks like her night wasn't going to waste after all. "Are you talking about Polly?" She watches as Luca Changretta helps himself on the other side of the booth, the same server coming over to Teresa with her white wine.

Teresa waited while staring down at Luca's own glass being poured with four fingers of whiskey. Luca glanced at Teresa's outfit, not answering her question. "You're wearing the shawl I got you? I can't believe you still have it."

"What, like I got rid of it? Why would I give it to someone else who would treat it like a rag?"

"Hm." Luca took a sip. "So, why did you summon me here? Actually, I know the answer to that one. You're a businesswoman, as we both know. You invited me here to propose some kind of deal, eh? Like I got the time to spare one more fucking thing before I go do what I came to England to do?"

"I know about the vendetta, Luca." Teresa began. "And I know the deal you made with Polly, which was a lie, by the way. I know about that. What I also know is that you don't just plan on crushing the Peaky Blinders. You have more on your mind. You're so greedy that you would want to overthrow Alfie Solomons as well. If he were to betray Tommy with the deal you made with Mr. Solomons, you know you and your men would come after him as well and take over his business."

Luca nodded. "I had a feeling you knew. I had a feeling Tommy Shelby brought you back to Birmingham, no?"

"I know your patience is wearing thin, and you're done giving people more time. But then there's me."

"Right, forgive me," Luca places a hand on his chest. "Why not talk about the royalty in front of me as well? What could she possibly request for this time?"

"I wanna know why I was never sent a Black Hand."

Luca laughs, trailing his fingers around the rim of his glass. Whatever Teresa said or did, she definitely wasn't laughing. Nothing seemed funny to her on her end. She did, however, miss that laugh of his. It was more of a chuckle, but she loved it like it was honey in hot tea. "Let me tell you something. It's best to stay out of this, right? Since you resigned, messing with us is like throwing stones at the devil."

"I'll play in the snow with the devil to prove you wrong."

Luca scoffs harshly. "So you're one of those people that snorts white lines just to feel good?"

"That was just my own figure of speech, Luca. I don't do Tokyo," Teresa replied. She cringed at the habit Arthur and Michael carelessly picked up on. "It's everyone's thing now, but not mine."

"That makes two of us." He took another sip. "I'm doing you a favour here, Miss Griffith. Stay out of this and do your own thing."

"There's no need for you to call me that," she comments.

"Why the hell not? Formalities are a thing of the past now?"

"You're talking to me as if we just met. We had something together."

"Yeah, had."

Teresa gave a glare, grabbing her wine. Luca smirks. "All right. Whatever you say. Jesus, kid. You're so fuckin' difficult."

"Kid," she scoffs at his remark. "And Ada Thorne is on your list and she doesn't get her hands covered in blood. So why wasn't I included?"

"You feel left out?" Luca snickered.

"I just wanna know why. I know damn well you haven't forgotten about me. Even if what we had to you was just for pleasure, you found out that I was once a Peaky Blinder."

Luca stares. "You wanted out because you felt like it would devour you forever, so I respected your wishes. You told me why you threw in the towel. And I know you're not a Shelby, you don't wanna be a Shelby."

The server comes up to them. "Sir? Ma'am? Would any of you like to hear the specials tonight?"

"No, thank you." Teresa smiles.

"More whiskey," Luca says. "And for the lady, she'll have more wine." Teresa raised her brows. She didn't mind more wine, would she care so much about knowing her limit before it was time to wince at the tab?

"I forgot you love whiskey," Teresa points out.

"Italian whiskey," Luca made a hand gesture. "As I was saying... have you thought long and hard about this, as to why I'm here? As to why I want Tommy Shelby dead, how I now want everyone dead?"

"Your father." There was a pause between the two. The jazz band transitioned their music to a much slower song this time, and it started easing the nerves in both the former couple's systems despite the volume of alcohol consumed. "Arthur Shelby killed your father. John Shelby killed your brother Angel."

"If things didn't happen the way it did, my men and I would be cozying up in New York counting stacks by stacks."

"And I wouldn't be seeing you here," Teresa added. "Almost ever again," Teresa thanks the server for the excess wine refilling in her glass, then Luca's. "Now can we talk about the giant elephant in the room?"

Luca furrows his brows.

"I know why you left, Luca. I know it's been five years, but you really just packed up and left. I've never seen you so frantic until that day when you were running to the train." Not even an eye bat. "I grew miserable ever since."

"Can I say this?" Luca leaned forward, placing the cuffs of his tailored suit that it laid flat on the tablecloth. "Whatever emotion you saw in my eyes on that day, whatever it was, it was for the sake of being alive for my family. Someone's gotta help keep the business up and runnin'. None of it works if I'm not there."

Teresa stares at Luca. This man wasn't wrong. It wasn't like he was running everything in his family all on his own. His father led the family in Birmingham that Angel was a part of, even his mother lived with them, but what makes New York so important and comforting to Luca must have felt like a whole outlet of anything he ever accomplishes, how many Tommy guns he can hold and keep in his home like picture frames, how many men he has to hire from Sicily and America just to help kill one family. All of that was justified when he boarded that train to the Liverpool docks.

"Oh," Teresa straightened her back. "So much for being the big, bad capo."

"Be careful," Luca warned, pointing a finger at her. "Don't question a gangster's honour."

"You know I crack jokes here and there," Teresa's lips curled into a smirk as it reached the rim of her glass.

"So do I," said Luca.

She looked down at his hands that rested on the table. His experienced, non-scrawny hands that had a black hand tattooed on his wrist, one with a crown, and maybe some other new ones Luca got over time. She used to kiss all of them, even the one on his neck that was a cross. His right hand was wrapped with big, gold rings on two fingers, except he only kept his ring finger free of anything, that was something she wanted to bring up. "You got all those rings on your fingers but not a wedding ring.

"Not like you got one on yours, either. Unless you took it off before coming here," Luca jokes.

She shakes her head. "I've been too busy to fall in love with another soul. But you? You didn't tie the knot with Viviana back in New York?"

Luca scowled, knowing Teresa hadn't forgotten about that woman as he did. "No. I still see her occasionally."

"Yet you haven't done anything with her? Never bothered to find anyone to satisfy your mother?"

"My mother says any woman from New York or even from the old country would do."

"What did you say, after?"

"Mamma, you're killin' me.'" Teresa had to chuckle at that, Luca smiled at her. He then looked around the bar, seeing how more of the guests had gotten up to dance with their dates as the jazz music cranked up their higher tunes like a machine. "Don't tell me we're gonna be sitting here all fuckin' night. You wanna dance, Miss Tour Guide?"

The nickname he gave to her the first time. Did he really sit in front of her and tell her he couldn't remember everything they had, then? "I'm a little rusty," Teresa declines.

'We gotta stretch our legs somehow. I ain't even see your whole getup for the night."

Teresa had no problem getting up from the booth. She stepped out so that her heels were shown as well, and she placed the fur shawl down on her seat so her shoulders were out. The dress wasn't purchased by Luca, but by her, and she felt like a Grand Princess, like a little girl playing with their mother's dresses and makeup. She was never too insecure about her looks since it never bothered her, but she felt beautiful, and she wondered if Luca will still ever see her as beautiful whether or not she is clothed in front of him.

Luca kept on staring. "Then perhaps we can head somewhere else," he suggests. "Somewhere we're both quite familiar with."

How and why didn't matter, the young man who looked to be around Arthur Shelby's age paid no second thought to his surroundings as he aggressively snuffed the thick lines of cocaine that formed on the ledge up his nostril. He begins wiping away any excess off his face, exiting the balcony seats just as the Italian mobster escorts Teresa inside the dark theatre to their respected spots.

"You're a lover of theatre," Teresa spoke quietly as the show resumed to its first act.

"If you dress like one, you are one." Luca hooked his leg over the other, folding his hands on his lap.

It was silent, not the awkward or tense silence, but silent to respect and see the performance. Silence or absolute noise, the stage was the latter. The good kind of noise. The skimpy dancers twirled with batons, the man and woman playing the perky main lovers belted the note they must have spent days and nights rehearsing over and over.

Luca knew there would be performances every night back in New York City. There was always something to do and somewhere to go, otherwise you'd be glued to your chairs at home.

The show was about to end, and Luca, for the first time in God's glorious mysterious time, took Teresa by the hand and curled them together on his lap, his eyes were fixated to theatricality in front of the hundreds of people.

Teresa reacts, slowly looking down. It was nearly dark, but she could feel the giant, lumpy rings from his fingers bump into hers. He always held her hand during a show, and would only let go to join the applause when a number came to its big finish, or when the grand finale brought hypnotic joy and bliss in each audience member's senses like himself that he just had to give the standing ovation.

But just as the audience erupted in deafening applause, cheers and whistles, Luca and Teresa remained the only two members seated, their hands still holding.

HIS hotel room was neat and tidy before he left, now the sheets on the giant bed wrinkled like aged skin when Luca held Teresa down to remove her stockings. She missed his touch. The feeling of being pinned on a bed as he dominated over her, practically tearing what she wore for the occasion just to see her underneath as a sight for his sore eyes, it was definitely there, and her heart pounded.

"Luca," she breathed out a moan. He kissed her softly, now only responding with pacing movements, from positioning her to grabbing the protection from the nightstand drawers. Though he was careful with the dress and fur shawl that was set on the office desk he sat in earlier, within seconds her brassiere was tossed on the floor. With the help from Teresa, she managed to undress Luca from head to toe by just sitting up, and he was now unclothed from the fresh tailored suit his uncle made back in Mott Street.

They kissed again, and Luca went in.

+ me writing "smut": 🧿👄🧿 but ooooo shiiiit their “business” meeting was quite a night lol.

[azulafangligo]

I know it's a bit late, but I wanted to share another story for @azulaweek . It's for day 4. I was happy to be part of Azula week for the first time and I'm looking forward to participating next year. Stay flamin :))

A mother's love

This story takes place about a week before the flashbacks in Zuko Alone

Everyone in the Royal Palace was sleeping at this late hour, except Ursa. She couldn't sleep a wink. She tried really hard to fall asleep, but to no avail.

It was a warm night in the Fire Nation. The moon shone high on a cloudless, black sky.

The princess left her bedroom with a candle in her hand, walking through the empty, dark corridors of the palace toward the kitchen to drink a cup of water. She could have ordered a servant to bring to bring her some water, but she didn't want to wake anyone up and start a commotion. Besides, she didn't like ordering others around. Ursa respected the people who served her and her family, but she didn't like relying on them for every little thing and exploit them, even though most would argue it was their job. It just didn't seem right and she wasn't comfortable with it.

As Ursa got closer to the kitchen, she entered the corridor with Azula's and Zuko's rooms. She passed by Zuko's room quietly, but when she was a few meters away from Azula's, she heard a creaking sound as the door was slowly opened. She stopped as she saw her daughter walking out of her room while rubbing her eyes and closing the door behind her. Azula spun around to see her mother after she noticed the candle light. She looked startled, but also tired, having small dark circles under her eyes which had been half open until she saw her mother. She was now facing Ursa wide-eyed.

"I was just going back to my room," Azula said after a few seconds, putting her hand back on the door handle.

Ursa looked at her, worried.

"Are you alright, Azula?" she asked.

"Yes. I just wanted to drink some water," she said, annoyed. Even though she was obviously tired, she seemed in a rush to get away from her mother. This saddened Ursa. She really loved her and cared about her, but she knew she wasn't always doing the best job of showing her that. She tried hard to be a good mother for both Azula and Zuko, but her husband made that very difficult.

She stepped closer to Azula and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Come on, tell me what's wrong," she said gently. "Did you have a nightmare?"

"No, I already told you, mom. I was thirsty. Now I'll go back to sleep," Azula said coldly. She looked away from Ursa and folded her arms. "Since when do you care about me anyway? Don't you have to worry about Zuko? Or you're here just because he doesn't need you right now and you want to make sure I don't get into trouble?" Azula said acidly.

"Azula, I love you and I care about you. I know I don't show it to you enough, but I'm doing my best for you and your brother. I want to help you if something's bothering you. You don't have to keep it to yourself. You can tell me. " Ursa smiled encouragingly at her, urging her to say what was on her mind.

Her mother didn't usually speak like this to her. She was always so busy giving Zuko all the attention that she neglected her.

Azula stood there for a second. She couldn't sleep all night. It was really frustrating and she wasn't sure what to do. She thought maybe a breath of fresh air and a few minutes in the gardens would help, but her mom came out of nowhere and she had to go back to her room now. Azula didn't have anything to say to her and just wanted to go to bed and be left alone. She'd be fine just by herself and she'd fall asleep eventually. It's horrible. I just want to sleep, but I can't. I hate this and I don't need her. I never did and I never will. She was about to go back to her room, but she thought how she'll stay in her bed for hours, struggling to catch some sleep, all alone. As much as Azula wanted to avoid her mother, she admitted trying again to sleep would be really hard and unpleasant. Maybe even more unpleasant than spending time with the woman that, no matter what Azula did, wouldn't appreciate her and would only criticize her and complain how she was mean to her favourite child. Azula didn't know why her mother pretended to care now and there was nothing she could do to help anyway, but it was better to tell her the truth instead of being all alone. This is probably a bad decision and I might end up regretting it, but here we go.

"I can't fall asleep. I've been trying for hours, but I can't," Azula told Ursa.

"It happens sometimes. I can't sleep either. Would you like us to go to the garden for a while?" Ursa said.

Azula looked away again. She still wasn't sure she wanted to be in her presence. It wasn't nice to be mom's least favourite child, but she had no trouble with that. Azula didn't need anyone. She did great just by herself. But maybe it wouldn't hurt to go for a walk outside, since she wanted to do that anyway. However, even though at first she would have preferred to be alone, perhaps it'd be good to have some company.

"Alright," she said.

Ursa smiled at her again.

"Come on," the princess said, a hint of joyfulness in her voice.

As they entered the garden, Azula felt the gentle wind on her skin. It was warm and pleasant outside. The bright stars were sparkling on the dark sky. She looked at the scenery overhead for a few moments.

"It's a beautiful night, isn't it?" Ursa asked.

"I guess," Azula replied in a neutral voice.

They walked a few meters to the pond and set down. Minutes passed without either of them saying anything. Azula looked at her reflection in the water. In the darkness, she barely saw the dark circles under her eyes, but they were there. She frowned. I ought to get some sleep, but the problem is I don't feel tired at all. She looked tired though, because she struggled to sleep and she could see it in her face.

After sometime, Ursa finally began speaking.

"I'm sorry I haven't been a good mother. I haven't given you enough attention and I haven't told you how much I love you enough times. It's just… It's hard to raise two kids at the same time-"

"Yes, because I'm so mean and horrible and Zuko is so great," Azula cut her off.

"Azula, I never said that."

"But you mean it," her daughter replied, looking her in the eye.

"I don't. I know I left you the impression I prefer him over you, but that's not true. You're both amazing children and I love you equally. I admit I spent more time with him, but that's because your father isn't giving him any attention."

"Don't blame father," Azula said infuriated. "If Zuko would be good enough to deserve his love he'd get it. He doesn't deserve your love either."

Ursa was surprised and outraged that Azula spoke like that about her brother. She opened her mouth to tell her how awful it was to treat Zuko that way, but stopped, feeling her anger dissipate. It was mean to say something like that, but Azula only thought these things because she didn't feel loved enough. That was why she wanted to be better than Zuko at everything-so she'd be appreciated by her parents. Ozai had a very bad influence on her. He turned her against Zuko and made her see him and everyone who wasn't perfect as a failure. Azula was a wonderful child and the only thing her father did was give her bad examples, cultivate negative thoughts and feelings inside her and turn her into a competitive and hateful person. He had too many expectations and put too much pressure on her and, to be honest, he didn't even love her. It hurt Ursa to admit this, but it was true. Ozai loved neither of his kids nor anyone else in his family. He didn't even love Ursa. They had an arranged marriage just so he and Azulon could be in control of Avatar Roku's bloodline. But this wasn't about her. It was about Azula. She needed to know her mother cared about her and was proud of her.

"Azula, I'm sorry your father has so many expectations and induces you to feel so much anger and hate. I know it's very frustrating, but I'm here for you."

"What are you talking about? Dad's great and he teaches me to be the best. How is that bad?" Azula said, but a hint of doubt made its way into her mind. She hated to admit it, but sometimes she got tired and it became hard to catch her breath struggling to be the perfect child. I am perfect, I shouldn't listen to her. Dad wants what's best for me. He wouldn't have so many expectations if he didn't think I am up to the challenge. It's his way of showing how capable he thinks I am to do anything I have to. Azula wanted to believe these things, she really did, but she couldn't dismiss the thought that her mother was right. No matter how hard she tried to convince herself mom just wanted her to be nice to Zuko, she couldn't. Something in her voice, in her eyes told Azula she actually… cared. She was angry to think this stuff about dad, but, deep down, she knew it to be true. This made her really angry and also sad.

"I shouldn't have let him influence you like this. I know you're suffering and it's exhausting to try to be flawless everyday. I let you down, Azula, but I'll make it up to you," Ursa said, putting her hand on Azula's.

Azula didn't want to say anything bad about her father. She loved him and he loved her, but, for the first time in her life, she felt the need to say what was on her mind. She just couldn't hold back her thoughts, regardless of how much she tried. She felt weak and miserable and she despised it. I… I've never seen mom like this. It's the first time she actually wants to talk to me and know how I feel. She actually seems to be honest…

Azula slid her hand from under Ursa's. Then, she put her head in her hands, staring blankly at the pond.

"Sometimes it's… really hard. I do my best to please dad, but it's never enough," Azula said.

Ursa than unexpectedly hugged her tightly. Azula stared in surprise for a couple of seconds before she embraced her mother as well.

"I think you're great the way you are. You don't need to prove anything to me. I love you so much and I'll prove that to you more often," Ursa promised.

"Thanks, mom," Azula whispered.

They let go and just sat there in silence. Azula didn't know how much time they spent at the pond. It might have been minutes or hours, she had no idea. However, as time passed by, Azula gradually lost awareness of her surroundings. She was unable to concentrate on anything as the sight before her eyes became blurry. Soon, it was very hard to keep her eyes open. Her eyelashes slowly closed, everything turning black as she finally drifted off to sleep. Azula propped her body against her mother's arm.

Ursa gently put her hands around her daughter's waist and placed her on her lap.

In the few remaining seconds of consciousness before Azula fell asleep, she felt her mother gently caress her on the top of her head. This brought a smile on her face as she felt really calm and relaxed, but also happy.

Mom loves me after all… she thought.