#but after she wakes up she has them sometimes open and sometimes closed
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glass-clown · 5 months ago
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[ID: Three images of Falin Touden from Dungeon Meshi.
The first image is presumably from the Delicious in Dungeon World Guide: The Adventurer's Bible. In the top left corner is a fancy border with big, bold text in it that says "3 | Sight". Below to the left has smaller text that says, "Falin has been nearsighted since she was very young, and she has a habit of squinting at things to see them. As an aside, being turned into a chimera has improved her eyesight, and that habit seems to have corrected itself." To the right is a picture from the manga showing a younger looking Falin with her eyes closed and someone off screen pushing her bangs back to lay on her head.
The second and third images are also from the manga of different shots of Falin with her eyes wide open. / END OF ID]
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EXCUSE ME
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FALIN KEEPS HER EYES CLOSED BECAUSE SHES NEARSIGHTED BUT WHEN SHE BECOMES A CHIMERA SHE OPENS HER EYES
#dungeon meshi spoilers#i went back to chapter 97 of the manga to look if she still keeps her eyes open or closed after she is properly resurrected#before she wakes up her eyes are always open in the dream(?) with the winged lion#but after she wakes up she has them sometimes open and sometimes closed#when her eyes are closed its when shes smiling so its not her squinting at smth‚ but other times -#-(like when shes talking to toshiro or senshi and marcille about her gifts) her eyes are closed#maybe her eyesight is improved completely and she still squints out of habit now that shes fully... conscious(???)#/or/ her eyesight is only slightly improved but not completely like when she was a chimera#i mean‚ she keeps the feathers on her torso and legs and the pointy teeth‚ so its likely her eyesight only slightly improved#idk‚ but still interesting bc i dont think i noticed it before#went through and skimmed through the entire manga and non-chimera falin always has her eyes closed except when shes a child (vol4ch26)#they were mostly open but would be closed sometimes when shes smiling/shocked#i noticed shes shown with closed eyes more after she saves laios from being possessed by a ghost but maybe thats just a coincidence#+(this may be when shes 10 and laios is 13‚ based on their appearance in daydream hour 2 (where her eyes are open))#in the cover image for volume 5 her eyes are open and shes in her old dungeon outfit but also senshi is there so take that as u will#her eyes are closed a few times after being resurrected by falin (vol4ch28) but are always open after she wakes up (vol5ch29)#in vol6ch38 when toshiro remembers that falin likes bugs‚ the only time shes not squinting is when shes holding the bug close to her eyes!#neat detail#when people remember falin her eyes are always closed but when they remember falin post-resurrection and chimera form her eyes are open#in vol8ch52 as a child‚ her eyes started to be closed more often after laios left home#in vol10ch67 pages 1-3 child falin has her eyes closed‚ but laios is there so this is before he left home#in laios' dream (vol6ch42) he says he hasnt seen his parents in 10 years. laios is 26 years old‚ so im assuming he left home when he was 16#laios and falin are confirmed to be 3 years apart‚ so falin wouldve been 13 when he left and was about 10-13 in the aforementioned memory#theyre also sometimes open and closed in the monster tidbits 4 chapter which takes place after the story#in falin's race-swap in daydream hour 5‚ the only time her eyes are slightly open is when shes an elf. take that as u will#tl;dr falins eyesight started getting bad around 10-13‚ was improved after first resurrection/as a chimera‚ and her eyes slightly improved-#-at the end of the story‚ possibly because she still had bits of chimera traits after being properly resurrected (the feathers & fangs)#....anyway. can u tell i took my adderall today lmao
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magentagalaxies · 2 years ago
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i should go to sleep but my cat is lying at the end of my bed purring because she loves spending time near me and i want to be awake for this moment
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klemen-tine · 7 months ago
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No Prince Charming
(Batfam x Mom!Reader)
Anonymous asked:
Hello, I really like your work.
I saw that you have an open request, so I want to share an idea that has been sitting in my head for a long time.
Reader married Bruce for convenience. (In my head, the reader is a woman, but I'll leave it to your taste) The wedding takes place shortly before the appearance of the first Robin. Bruce and reader have a cold relationship. Reader comes from the wealthy population of Gotham. Therefore, reader is well educated and intelligent. So after a while, when Dick already appears, reader understands what her husband does at night. But reading doesn't say anything about it or hint at it. The reader doesn't want to get involved in any of this, it scares her. And although the reader is planning a divorce, she takes care of all the members of her new family. And although she is neglected in the family, the reader becomes a parental figure for children. But the children won't admit it. When Damian appears, the reader doesn't say a word to Bruce. But Damian treats reader very badly. And that becomes the trigger. The reader slips Bruce the divorce papers.(not to mention that they are getting divorced, since Bruce is likely to protest) and when Bruce signs them, he leaves the estate, leaving the divorce papers and the wedding ring on the bed when no one notices. And only then does the family realize what they have done with their neglect of reader. Their yandere trait is waking up in them and now they need to somehow find their reader.
Sorry if it's too much.
And I apologize for the English, I am writing with a translator
Warning: Non-consensual drugging, not descriptive sex. It's just mentioned, no details. Hinted at Dick's trauma with his sidekick.
It was a marriage of convenience. That's all it was. Bruce Wayne knew Y/N L/N since childhood, and while they weren’t close, Y/N was the only one who never treated him any differently after his parents were murdered. Maybe it's because her own father was murdered, and she understood that sometimes the greatest support was to act like nothing changed. 
Fast forward to young adults, Bruce Wayne was now Brucie in public, and Y/N was the unstoppable woman leading her own company by the reins. Bruce had come to her with an offer, one that had her brows raised and painted lips smirking. For Bruce Wayne, this will help solidify his position as someone who was not Batman, and for Y/N it would finally silence the hecklers that gnawed at her heels and bit into her shoulders. 
A frigid marriage, filled with cold greetings, Brucie still entertaining women, Y/N still controlling her company with painted lips, and rumors surrounding them. Despite the coldness, Y/N knew a lie when she saw one. She knows a front when she comes face to face with one, and it is why when she saw Batman in the hallways of Wayne manor, staring at her in shock and apprehension, she rolled her eyes and continued to sip her wine as she made her way back to her office. 
“Please don’t stain the carpet. Alfred just shampooed them.” They never brought it up again. Bruce was no Prince Charming, despite the front he put on for strangers. There were no whispered promises, no flowers, no gifts, nothing but ��hellos’ and ‘goodbyes.’ 
Then, along came Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson. A child who had blinked up at her with large blue eyes, and Y/N could feel her heart crumble. She had welcomed him with open arms and smiles. She had welcomed all of the Robins in. Her manicured nails getting shorter each time, so she doesn’t have to fear hurting one of them, and her smiles became softer. Y/N had never tried to replace any of their mother’s, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel like one. 
But it was Bruce they had a closer bond with. Which is why they started following his behavior towards her. Clipped words and rolling of eyes were common, as were the cold shoulders and tense silences. 
“You’re not my mom! So stop asking how school was!” Y/N stared at Jason in shock and curiosity about where that outburst had come from. Alfred was the only one to say anything. A stern, “Master Jason,” and a look that had even Bruce cowering had the young boy apologizing. Y/N ignored the way her heart slowly broke, as the quirky child full of smiles, sass, and who loved classics, turned his back on her. 
As if she wasn’t the one to introduce those books to him. 
Y/N doesn’t blame them for their cold behavior towards her. She doesn’t blame Dick’s disregard, Jason’s hurtful words, Tim’s cynical looks, Steph’s taunts, and Damian’s heated actions.  
Y/N had cried at Jason’s funeral, she helped Bruce fight for custody for Tim, she had consoled Dick after some of his own traumatic experiences, and she sat there and listened as Damian compared her and Talia. Talia, of all people. She had met the woman once, and Y/N had nodded at her. Y/N never judged Bruce for sleeping with the woman. Hell, Y/N would have too.  Y/N can recall the day Damian came to their manor, and the short look Dick had given her when she and the child made eye contact. 
Y/N doesn’t know if it was a look of concern or mockery, but she knows he did look. 
She was there for Richard when his trauma with his sidekick happened. He may have never told her, but Y/N is a woman. A woman who has known people that have suffered the same way Dick has. That are still suffering like he is. 
“I’m sorry Richard.” 
“What do you even know?! You know nothing! Absolutely nothing so just butt out!” Dick glared at her with blue eyes that had put the arctic water to shame. Y/N stood there and took it all. She stood proudly with her shoulders back and chin up. 
In public, she was a stoic mother keeping the children in check while Bruce goofed off. She was the woman who failed her children, because she chose to continue running her business. Her very, very, very successful business. A business that had taken her and her mother from the bottom of High Society, to the top 10%. A series of great investments, smart marketing, and pretty words have lined her pockets with money that she could easily retire on. 
Yet, all that money couldn’t save her mother. The woman died of a heart attack, and there was nothing, absolutely nothing Y/N could do besides bury her mother. 
“Bruce please.” 
“I am busy.” 
“I know but Bruce, this is my–” 
“Ask Alfred.” He had turned his back and Y/N was stuck staring at the retreating man with a new feeling of heartbreak. The tabloids ate up that she was alone at her mother’s funeral. A private event that no one was allowed into besides close family and friends. 
When she came back, eyes downcast and shoulders slumped, Damian had picked the time to make his disdain known again, “–and my mother would have never let herself go like that. You look horrid, unbefitting of a Wayne. A disgrace.” 
Blank E/C eyes stared into raging green and she sighed, “Thanks, Damian.” She spared him no glance after that, and she walked towards her bedroom to take a hot shower. It was there, under the hot spray of water that she finally cried. She cried for the last part of family she had, and the years she lost from marrying a man who didn’t even like her enough to attend a godforsaken fucking funeral. She cried for the children she couldn’t even call her own. 
She cried for the life she missed by marrying Bruce fucking Wayne. 
“Honey, are you happy?” 
“Of course Mama.” 
“You never could lie to me sweetie.” Her mother kissed her forehead and looked into E/C eyes with nothing but love, “You’ve worked so hard, sweetie.” That acknowledgement alone had her almost in tears, “But please start working for yourself now.” 
Taking a deep breath, Y/N hopped out of the shower and called her lawyer. Divorce papers were in her hands within 24 hours, and her bags packed in 3. 
She stood next to Bruce, ignoring the scowl on his face as she ‘disrupted’ his work. Y/N kept her face neutral, because if she smiled it would give it all away, and handed him the page he needed to sign. 
For a billionaire and for a vigilante, he sure didn’t read the damn paper. Which is fine. Great even, because now, after being here for over a decade, Y/N is free. She laughed in her room, laughing so hard that it almost tore her throat. Leaving a copy of it on Bruce’s bed once he was gone, she grabbed her suitcase and accidentally ran into Alfred on her way out the door. 
The old man took a look at her clothes, her bags, and her expression before sighing, “Shall I drive you for the last time, Lady Y/N?” Y/N smiled, bitterly at the thought of leaving Alfred, her only solace in this cold mansion. 
“To the airport, please.” The ride was silent, and Y/N didn’t look back as they left the gates of the mansion. It wasn’t until they were halfway there that Y/N spoke up, “My lawyer will call in a few days, just to hash out the details.” 
“Is that so?” 
“There’s nothing I want. No assets, no money, nothing will be taken, I just want a divorce.” She just wants the law to recognize that she is not a Wayne. That she will never be a Wayne. 
“Lady Y/N, perhaps a check for compensation for the emotional strain would be nice?” Y/N laughed, bitterly and sad, “I don’t want his money. I want nothing to do with him anymore.” 
“And the kids?” 
“They don’t need me. They never did. I doubt they will even notice.” Gotham International Airport wasn’t crowded, and that may be because it was 1pm on a Tuesday. Alfred helped her with her bags, and the old man stared at the woman before him. He remembers meeting her for the first time, a confident young woman who had a way with words and was unfairly intelligent. Matching wits and able to speak confidently in a room of people who thought little of her. 
It's good to see some of that coming back. 
Y/N hugged Alfred, “Thank you, Alfred. For everything.” The older man sighed and watched as the woman took her bags and walked away. Not once did she look back and Alfred decided to stay until her form disappeared in the building. He sighed heavily and when got back in the car, he dialed a number he knew by heart. It only took three rings before the voice of the man he raised answered, “Alfred, is everything okay?” 
“Master Bruce, I fear you may have lost something precious, and I do hope you, and the young masters, have a plan to make this up to them.” He hung up afterwards as he merged into traffic, and he hoped his message finally hit something within his son’s dense skull. 
When he returned back to the manor, he began the preparation for making dinner. All was silent throughout the manor, until the door opened and the rush of the footsteps began marching towards him. 
“Master Richard, I urge you to not run.” 
“Bruce told me there was an emergency and to hurry to the manor?” Alfred sighed, “While it is an emergency, it is not one you can fix on your own.” No, this was something for Bruce to fix seeing tha all the problems stemmed from him. 
Dick raised a brow, “What kind of emergency is it?” Alfred pursed her lips, “Miss Y/N Wayne is now Miss Y/N L/N once more.” He turned to look the man he has considered his grandson in the eyes, and he could see the revelation sink in. 
“Y/N divorced Bruce?” Alfred nodded, “The papers have been signed.” 
“Bruce would never sign those papers.” Alfred raised a brow, “They are signed and waiting for him to read.” Dick slowly walked out of the kitchen, “Is she still here?” Alfred turned back to the food and Dick began speed walking towards Y/N’s room. As a child it never occurred to him why they would they never slept together, but as he got older he understood. 
He knocked on her doors, calling her name like he used to as a kid. 
Dick had always understood that Bruce’s and Y/N’s relationship was not one of a couple in love. He also understood that Y/N’s treatment in the manor by the residents of the manor was unfair. Whenever he could, he would correct Damian’s harsh words, but even he himself couldn’t fully bring himself to be all that kind to her. 
He tried. He desperately tried, because he saw all that she did for them behind the scenes. He saw the mistreatment and judging looks others would give her as her ‘husband’ was out fooling around. 
Dick saw the blank look she had given Damian after her mother’s funeral. The one none of them had gone too. 
“What do you mean you didn’t go?” His voice panicked as he talked to Tim, “I didn’t go. I was under the assumption someone else would go.” 
Y/N could have been Gotham’s biggest bitch, but not even then would she have deserved that. What made it worse was that Y/N was not a bitch. She wasn’t cruel, or unkind. She was as much of a philanthropist as Bruce was. Always aiding those whose needed it and desperately trying to make Gotham a better place. 
Dick opened her doors and was greeted with an empty room. Gone were the picture frames, and the closet was empty along with the bathroom. Her prized jewlery, the things she took care of almost obsessively, all of it was gone. 
He could remember beng 9 and sitting next to her as she cleaned one of her sapphire earrings. Thin fingers with long nail held the earring next to him, a scrutinizing look on her face before she would break out into a grin, “As I thought, nothing could ever compare to our Dickie’s sapphire eyes.”
“Holy shit.” 
“What’s going on- why is Y/N’s room empty?” Tim looked throughout the room, and Dick could see the wonder across his younger brother’s face. Right, between all of them, Tim and Y/N had the least amount of time spent together. 
Dick stared at his brother as the image of Y/N smiling at a string of pearls entered his mind. She had explained to him when he asked that pearls, while feminine, also symbolized new beginnings. She had gotten it when Tim’s custody was signed over to the Waynes. 
“She’s gone.” Tim met Dick’s eyes, “Like… taking a vacation gone?” Dick gave a humorless chuckle, “She divorced Bruce, Tim. Y/N is gone.” This must have been what Alfred saw when he broke the news to Dick. The confusion and then realization coming to light in those blue eyes. 
“Bruce would never sign those papers.” Dick had said the same thing, and yet here she was. Gone. As if to emphasize his point, Dick made an exaggerated expression and motioned to the empty room. 
Tim looked around and he could feel a headache forming, “Bruce is gonna be pissed.” Dick groaned, “Fuck Bruce for a second, the only stable-mentally healthy-adult figure that isn’t Alfred is gone, Tim.” The boy didn’t look all that bothered, “Well, if she’s happier then I don’t mind.” 
Of course he doesn’t mind. Why? Because this little stalker most likely knows where she’s going. Tim did a good job hiding it, but Dick was raised by Bruce. He is trained to spot the mciroexpressions of people, and even if they are his own siblings. 
Tim is panicking. The very thought of Y/N leaving had not once occurred to them, and for Tim who loves planning, this was not once ever in the plans. 
Not once. Y/N had been a staple within the manor, and to imagine her not being here was rough. Evenw hen she left for business trips, it was fine because they all knew she was coming back. SHe would come back with souvenirs, handing each of them something that reminhded her of them, before running upstairs to get out of the family’s judgemental line of sight. 
“Fucking hell.” 
++++
Bruce entered the condo with ease. His steps light as he walked through the dark room, noting the all the furniture. There was no Y/N in the living room or kitchen, but when he looked out the balcony door, he could see her back. She was leaning against the edge of the infinity pool, without doubt a hot tub of some sorts because it was too cold to be swimming in a regular pool. 
She didn’t even turn around to look at him, her attention focused on the view of the snowy mountains and raging seas in front of her. Bruce could see the wine bottle left on the side of the pool and the glass that looked like it was finished only a short while ago. When she did turn around, E/C reflected the stars and dimly lit light around the pool, making them shine and sparkle like they were the galaxy.
Bruce isn’t blind. He knows Y/N is an attractive woman who had many people lusting after her even when they were married. Talia even made a note of it, “You should see if she wants to join next time.” He should have known that his clipped response was a sign. 
It was all there, and yet he did everything within his power to ensure that he would not fall in love with her. Falling in love has always been out of the question, and when Y/N came into his life, Bruce made it his mission to do just that. The woman before him had never complained, and she never seemed to fault him for it, but he could tell there was resentment. If he couldn’t have allowed himself to fall in love with her, he could have at least offered her friendship. One that made life more bearable for the both of them, and set a good example for the kids. 
“What are you doing, Bruce?” She didn’t seem shocked that he was here, let alone in her vacation condo. Bruce took off his shirt and pants, stripping down to his boxers before joining her in the hot tub. He had grabbed two glasses of wine before doing so, handing her one and taking a sip from the other. 
 “Is it wrong of me to want to join my wife on her vacation?” 
“Ex-wife. The documents are signed, and besides this is a girl trip.” Bruce re-read those documents and kicked his foot for not fucking reading them when he first signed them. He should have known she was up to something. 
“Y/N, come back to the manor.” He stared into E/C eyes as she took another sip of the wine. Bruce had come with a speech prepared, ready to convince her to come back with him, but it was all lost as he stared and observed the woman in front of him drink delicately from the glass. Y/N L/N has always been a woman of class, even when she was near the bottom of high society. It wasn’t her good looks that landed her in the top 10, possibly even top 5%, and like every classy woman, she was only allowed to regret a few things. Their marriage is one, but leaving is not even an option on the list of things she wants to regret but can’t. 
He knows this. She knows this. 
And yet, Bruce could only focus on how beautiful she looks, and how beautiful she would look sprawled on the silk bed sheets. Y/N has aged like fine wine, looking even more beautifully and worth more and more with each passing year. Aging gracefully and beautifully as the years passed and still catching the attention of others. 
It's a shame his younger self was more into whiskey than wine. 
He wonders how different their relationship would be if he had gotten to know her before and during the early years of their marriage. Without a doubt it would be easier to talk to her. Easier to convince her to come back to a manor that now misses her.
“And why should I?” It’d be easier to answer her with a compelling reason, one that would have her actually debating on whether or not to come back. Bruce reached over and brushed a strand of hair out of her face, and he’s shocked that she even let him do that. She didn’t flinch, nor did she lean into his touch. Y/N stood still as he moved the H/C lock behind her ears. 
“The manor misses you.” He’s never heard her laugh the way she did in that moment. Throwing her head back and exposing unblemished skin to the night air as she laughed, and continued to laugh. Her shoulders shaking from the force and slightly distilling the wine. 
Once she was done, her cheeks were red from the laughter and she was gasping for breath, “Yeah, okay. So Alfred misses me, I’ll make sure to give him a call then.” She turned her back to Bruce and began walking towards the edge of the pool. 
“The boys, girls, and I do too.” Chateau Petra was on his lips and the feeling of cold wine hitting his face and upper chest had him closing his eyes for a second. When he opened them, Y/N’s wine glass was empty and on her face was a hard expression. Cold E/C eyes glaring into his as she pulled herself out of the pool, and grabbed the rest of the wine bottle. 
“Sleep on the couch. You’re going home tomorrow.” Her steps quiet as she stalked into her home and she headed for the bathroom. Bruce sighed, and stared at the night sky with a new look in his eyes, ‘Desperate times call for desperate measures.’ He would like to believe that he is above this. He wants to believe that this was the worst case scenario happening and therefore this needs to happen. 
Has to. The very thought of Y/N being away caused an itch to form under his skin and a burning fire in his chest. A fire he never knew blazed in him until it went out. Now, more aware and protective of it, Bruce found himself craving the warmth in ways that had his mouth foaming and muscles tensing. He looked down at the water and saw the red wine diluting and sprawling throughout the pool water, looking like blood for only a second. 
A smile curled on his lips and he pulled himself out of the pool water, drying himself off before making his way into the shower with his ‘ex-wife.’ They may have never been lovers, but they were two adults living under the same roof. 
So, of course they have had sex. 
Hate sex is the best and worst sex. It is the best because Bruce can go as hard as he wants to and Y/N will love it. It is the worse because hate sex is all Y/N will see this as. Y/N will only see it has hate sex and not for the love Bruce feels for her. She won’t feel it in the way he caresses her skin or in the way he leaves his bite marks on her thighs. All Y/N will see this as, is hate sex. 
Which is fine. If hate sex is what Y/N needs to see this as to work then Bruce will take it. He has time. He has plenty of time to show her how much he cares and loves her. Those divorce papers will be long gone, every single one of those copies non-existent. He loves her. He loves her in the way a cactus loves the sun, or how the stars love the moon. 
Bruce was so enamored by her, that he couldn’t help but to fall deeper. Her soft hands, that have never broken a bone but have broken many hearts, cradling scarred shoulders and sharp cheeks. She didn’t flinch when his own rough hands gripped her’s, bruising and secure, and she didn’t flinch when intense blue eyes met hers. In fact, she smiled, like this was all a joke he was the butt of it. 
It pissed him off that even she could have secrets and inside jokes that he doesn’t know about. As she laid there, her eyes now closed and body relaxed, Bruce pulled out a syringe filled with something that will keep her asleep. Only for a few days. Barbara is already working on getting rid of the divorce papers and the kids were preparing for her return. 
Bruce kissed her forehead, smiling down at his Sleeping Beauty. If need be, the manor will be her castle and the kids her vines covered in thorns. Bruce, in all his daunting and terrifying glory shall be the dragon, keeping her locked within her castle because nowhere was safer than the castle. Only she could keep him calm, and only she could make him feel human. 
Batman was never Prince Charming.
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Not my best work in my opinion... but I still like tbh.
@problematicreblogger
@kurai-hono-blog
@rosecentury
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jymwahuwu · 2 months ago
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Inspired by @hunnieknight art 🐾💖 quickly wrote something
cw: hybirds AU, puppy hybrid! reader and puppy hybrid! Capitano, mating mentioned but no detailed description
Morning is the moment you wake up smelling the sunny-side-up egg. You lie on the comfortable bed, your hands gently clenched into fists, your consciousness is blurry, but…it's the fragrance. You climbed out of bed and rushed to Mavuika's position with excitement. While she was frying eggs, she rubbed your ears and patted your head. "You can sleep a little longer," you responded by rubbing your cheek against her leg, giggling.
Hmm… there's an unusual smell in the air… what's that?
You searched the carpet and looked toward the window. There was one of its kind covered in a black mask - it was a large dog. His black ears and tail are imposing, and his chest and arms are muscular. Just by looking at it, you can tell that he is much stronger than you. Oops! He noticed you.
Mavuika glanced there casually. Isn't he much bigger than her favorite puppy? The next door neighbor is Tsaritsa from Snezhnaya. She turned down Venti’s poetry sharing party, declined Ei’s meditation course, and had no interest in Focalors’ aquarium. Among the six neighbors in the community, she lived a solitary and unique life. Oh, now she knew she had a loyal companion. She inevitably became wary, like a mother guarding against her daughter being asked out by a man.
"I don't trust that dog, don't go the fence." she ordered. "Be a good puppy."
Capitano stares at you more intently.
You tilt your head to look at her innocently. What is she talking about?
Mavuika doesn't stay at home all the time! She needs to work in the gym during the day. You whimpered and bit the edge of her dress, "Don't go out…" She sighed, coaxing you and promising to bring you snacks when she got home. You cheered and nodded, promising to look after the house and be a good puppy. You run and play with a ball in the living room and chat with your puppy friends on the Internet.
Uh, someone knocked on the window! You arched your back in fear, alert. Hey, he was the neighbor that day…you asked him what happened. Capitano asks if he can play with you. He has his family at home but they are all weird, especially the little fox named Dottore. You agreed, opened the window, and invited him into your home. You chase each other, run in circles, play with tails and ears, and watch TV shows. The two of you also swam and walked around the neighborhood together when Mavuika wasn't home.
One day, Capitano solemnly asks you if he can mate with you. You shyly waggled your tail and agreed. He gets close to you, bites your back gently, and rides on you…
And then…your belly swells. Mavuika took you to the hospital and the doctor said you were pregnant. You watched nervously from behind the door as Mavuika "interrogated" Capitano. You said you'd be fine. Capitano sent more gifts. He is there for you, even though sometimes it is necessary to watch you from the window.
The babies are born. You know what Capitano originally looked like now. Most of them are not like you, but like papa. He is still affectionate, holding your cheek and kissing you 🐾💌
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certaimromance · 2 months ago
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𝜗𝜚 Cherry Picking.
Spencer Reid x Fem!reader
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Summary: After your first night with Spencer, you wake up and see that he's left you two dollars and a thank-you note on your bedside table.
Words: 2,3k.
TW: lots of mentions and references to sex, but nothing completely explicit. the reader is quite dramatic and has little faith in men (literally me, sorry). SO MUCH chaos and lack of communication but happy ending. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).
Note: This idea just came to me out of the blue, and I have to say that Sex and the City has had a bit of an influence. I love the chaos, the conversations between friends, and Spencer being the best man in the world (I'm picturing him kind of like in his season four version).
♡ Enjoy! ♡
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Saturday afternoon
“Two dollars?!”
Penelope's and JJ's simultaneous exclamations and surprised faces when you finished speaking were pretty much to be expected. They noticed a change in your expression and took a moment to compose themselves, as did the rest of the people in the room, who glanced curiously at your table from time to time. It was certainly a fascinating sight, three women having an animated conversation about their lives over milkshakes as if they were drinks, especially considering that one of them was pregnant and her belly looked like it was about to explode.
You didn't blame anyone for reacting that way, especially not your friends. You were still pretty shocked by what happened, especially by how thoughtless the man you'd developed feelings for and worked closely with over the past few years was. It was a unsettling to find a tip on your nightstand after one of the most memorable nights you'd ever had. You still remembered the excitement you felt when you went to Spencer's apartment yesterday to watch a movie as part of your fourth or fifth date. He seemed nervous when you started kissing more intensely, and the couch wasn't the best setting. The sensation of your body on his bed and his lips on your skin was incredible.
It was a good memory, extremely good if you took away the embarrassment of waking up the next day in his empty bed with money waiting for you, as if you had performed a service.
“Maybe there was a misunderstanding and the money was left on the table by mistake.” Jennifer spoke again in a reassuring tone after turning the matter over. “Spencer can be a little clumsy sometimes.”
You pressed your lips together in a thin line as you listened to her attempt to provide an explanation for his actions. But given their friendship, this was to be expected.
“And he was in a hurry to catch his plane and go to his mother.” Garcia added with a forced smile, trying to lift your spirits. “It all makes sense.”
Yes, it was understandable that he was leaving in a hurry because he had to catch a flight to spend his weekend off with his mother. That didn't worry you, but there was something else that was curious.
“How do you explain the thank-you note?” You asked, taking out the paper and the two dollars you'd pulled out to show them as proof from your purse.
“It was a thank you for hanging out with him, a sweet gesture.” JJ said, taking a sip of her milkshake and patting her belly.
It seemed more like a sour gesture to you, that you had been left with your dignity on the floor. As you left his apartment, you didn't know whether to cry or laugh because it sounded like a bad joke that the only man you thought was decent and for whom you allowed yourself to have feelings would do such a thing.
“My love life is going downhill.” You said.
Just then, the restaurant door opens and Emily appears. After greeting her and apologizing for her late arrival, she asks about the cause of your apparent distress. As a profiler, she was astute enough to know something was wrong just by looking at you.
“What's wrong, honey?” She started talking as soon as she sat down next to you and took a quick look at the table. “Those milkshakes look good, I want one.”
“Spencer thinks I'm a prostitute.” You spoke up without thinking, which surprised Emily and caused her to briefly lose her grip on the menu.
There was a long, awkward silence.
Perhaps you were too direct in saying something that you had been trying to ignore for your own mental health.
“Just a heads-up, we've got a baby in the room. No need to say that word!” Penelope was the first to speak, gently covering JJ's belly with her hands. “He can hear you.”
At that moment, Reid and his comments about pregnancy data at every stage came to mind. You felt a little uncomfortable because you knew it was a little unrealistic to focus on the positives at a time like this.
“Oh, I'm so sorry, baby.” You looked regretfully at your friends and spoke to Jennifer's belly, giving it a gentle caress. “Don't listen.”
“I need context, please.” Emily said confusedly, trying to understand what was going on and why you had said what you had said.
You let out a deep breath, preparing yourself to recount the story once more.
“Okay, Spencer and I made...milkshakes. Very good milkshakes, really good if you know what I mean.” You tried to explain slowly, watching your words and your friends' expressions. “I woke up when he was leaving, he gave me a kiss on my forehead and said to keep sleeping, that he had to catch his flight.”
“That's sweet, but weird to know.” Emily commented quizzically, looking at the menu intently again. “What's the part...you know?”
“Oh, when he thought I was-” You stop yourself as you see how JJ looks at you. “A pie maker.”
You could tell from their expressions that they were about to laugh at your attempts to keep the conversation friendly.
“I woke up hours later to find two dollars on the nightstand with a thank-you note.” You finished the story. “To him, I'm worth two fu...sugary dollars.”
Prentiss stared at you for several seconds, waiting for me to tell her it was a joke. Only when that didn't happen did she speak. “That sounds weird and awful, but I don't think he would do something like that on purpose. Especially you, he really likes you.”
“He likes me enough to give me two dollars.”
When you finished speaking, you experienced a moment of discomfort in your stomach as your own words took effect. You were surprised to find that on a deeper level, what had happened was causing you more pain than you had anticipated.
“That doesn't sound like Reid at all. I've known him for years, and he's not that kind of man.” Penelope said with a frown, trying to reassure you. “I'm sure it's a mix-up.”
You were looking for the same thing and hoping it was just a misunderstanding, but your previous bad experiences made you think otherwise. You'd met enough men to know that they could always be worse. What was different now was that you really liked this particular man. You really longed for him to be different from everyone else.
However, things weren't always as you'd hoped. You'd invested a lot of hope in making your fairy tale come true, and it was starting to take its toll.
“Have you had a chance to speak with him?” JJ inquired.
“He's with his mother, I won't bother him.” You replied with a strange simplicity that made your friends suspicious. “I'm fine, I've calmed down.” You added as you saw their worried faces.
“I love you, but sometimes you scare me.” Emily said, watching you drink from your smoothie as if it contained a painkiller. “It's not okay to pretend that everything's fine.”
“It's understandable to feel a bit discouraged about this. Things may seem challenging at the moment, but I believe things will improve when you discuss this with him.” Jennifer's hand gently touched yours, offering a comforting gesture.
“I'm sure everything will be fine. You have our support if you need it.” Penelope joined in with the motivational words and gave you a reassuring smile.
You took the last sip of your milkshake and leaned back in your seat for a moment before replying. “I'm fine, girls. I don't plan to lose my head over a man, I promised myself.”
They looked at you with some skepticism, but you didn't flinch. You were confident that if you were mentally prepared not to be defeated, or at least not to look defeated, you would be well prepared for the day of the meeting.
You weren't going to lose your mind over this.
Monday morning
You were definitely losing your mind, and no cup of tea or internet video that promised to do so had been able to relax you one bit. You had been cooped up in the office you shared with Penelope for several minutes, pacing in your chair while everyone in the conference room waited for information about a new case and your presence. The mere thought of having to face Reid again was making you feel pretty uneasy.
All weekend, you had been trying to reassure yourself that you were doing well, that you were not hurt or affected by what happened, that it was just one more disappointment to add to the long list you had written since you were a teenager, and that it was normal for someone with your luck. You were not a princess, you were not going to meet a prince, and you were old enough to know that.
But being in the same building as your prince turned toad was not as easy as you had hoped. You prayed that your presence would not be necessary and that the jet would soon take off to take them all away, especially him.
A few sudden knocks on the door startled you. You automatically thought it was your boss coming to scold you for being late, and your blood froze.
“I apologize for the delay, Hotch. I assure...” You spoke promptly as soon as the door opened and a male figure appeared.
But obviously, it wasn't him.
“Oh, sorry, I'm not Hotch. But hey, how are you?” Spencer smiled at you and walked toward you, looking a little nervous.
“Fine.” You replied dryly, getting up from your seat to grab your tablet and some folders to carry into the conference room.
In your mind, you had planned to make a scene as soon as you saw him and make it clear that you didn't cost just two dollars. But after thinking about it a lot, the fear of losing your job over it was greater. And now it was a mixture of that reasoning with your feeling of paralysis at actually having him in front of you.
“I...I missed you over the weekend.” He stopped you before you could walk away, gently holding your hand. The feeling alone made you stop and look at him angrily. “I thought about you a lot, too much, and I bought you something.” He let go of your hand to pull a small box out of his pocket.
“How dare you?” You blurt out, taking a step back.
He looked a little uncomfortable and seemed to be in pain. “I'm sorry if I overstepped. I didn't mean to impose. Did I cross a line? I'm so sorry, I just thought-”
“What? That you could embarrass me even more? Didn't I already go through enough?”
That's when you took out two dollars from your purse and gave it to him.
“Could I ask why this is?” Spencer was still frowning and looked just as hurt as you.
His apparent lack of understanding of the situation made you much angrier. You had thought he was probably the smartest man you had ever met in your entire life, but suddenly, in your eyes, he was an idiot.
“I'm refunding your payment, Reid.” You replied firmly, without hiding your frustration.
The confusion on his face seemed to multiply as he tried to understand. “What are you talking about? I gave you your money back.”
You tilted your head slightly to one side.
“Saturday morning, I left on the nightstand the two dollars you lent me a week ago when we bought coffee. You know I don't like being in debt.” Spencer began to explain calmly, taking a moment to gather his thoughts and present the facts in a clear and concise manner.
Oh, you do remember lending him money at some point, or rather, inviting him for coffee that he said he'd pay you back. That day when his hair was perfect in the wind, when he smiled at you and told you some interesting facts about coffee beans.
“I mentioned it when I said goodbye, but you looked so tired that I left you a thank you note in case you forgot.” He went on to explain. “A lot of studies say that you wake up to full strength at least 20 to 30 minutes after you actually open your eyes. And you still had them closed when I said goodbye.”
“Oh.”
“Oh?”
“I...I thought you-” You fell silent as you saw the stunned look on his face. You didn't want to look crazy, so you quickly added. “I just thought wrong.”
“I'm sorry, I don't understand.” He said, a little embarrassed. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Oh, no, I just...did you bring me a gift?” You changed the subject, taking the box he had previously offered you. Inside was a necklace with a cherry blossom charm.
“Your computer wallpaper is a picture of cherry blossoms. And I saw this necklace in a store when I was walking with my mom, and I thought you might like it. But it's okay if you don't want it-” He spoke fast until you interrupted him.
“I love it, thank you.” You smiled at him and took the necklace out of the box. “Could you help me with this?”
With some trepidation and uncertainty still present, Spencer positioned himself behind you with the jewel in his hands, carefully brushed your hair aside and fastened the necklace around your neck. The sensation of his fingers brushing against your skin made you feel a slight shiver.
“Thanks.” You said as you turned around to face him. You gave him a hug, though you were a little unsure.
He returned your embrace, feeling a sense of relief that things between you were okay. “You don't have to thank me.”
“It's not about the gift. It's just a way to say thanks for being you.”
Perhaps he was your prince after all.
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k3n-dyll · 5 months ago
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☆F.U.C.K
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Warnings...18+, wlw, not proofread, also, written at 2am, established friends with benefits, self-indulgent smut, dom!Abby, shower sex, strap on (r!receiving), strap referred to as a dick/cock Word Count:2.08k || MDNI Banner Creds. || Donations 4 Palestine
Notes ☆ The next fic I have based on a song will not be as fun! Just a heads up. Also, two works back to back within a few hours? We're so back
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FWB!Abby who isn't known to be very open about her sexuality. Sure, there are rumors, and there are people she's told that she's lesbian, but that list is pretty limited to close friends. It's not that she's trying to hide it, anyone with working eyes who takes more than a second or two to look at her can tell, she just doesn't feel like it's anyone's business but her own.
And yours of course.
Abby's never been particularly sappy or romantic. Still, despite how intense her day-to-day is - fighting Scars, killing infected, being on high alert at every turn because there's no way of knowing what will be the next thing to try and kill her first - she's a bit of a thrill seeker in her own way. The idea of doing something seemingly forbidden, the rush of nearly getting caught doing something less than savory, has never failed to be a turn-on for her and it's something that, over time, you've become acutely aware of. She's gotten into the habit of dragging you into bathrooms, and storage closets, sometimes even taking it upon herself to get handsy underneath tables when in the presence of others just to see that nervous look you get.
It should be no shock to you that she'd do something like this and yet, you're still baffled.
The showers were peaceful today, it was late and most people were either asleep or just waking up for their own shifts. After a long patrol, all you wanted to do was turn on the hot water and let it soak over your aching muscles, washing the blood, dirt, and sweat that had accumulated on your skin down the drain. You weren't expecting to feel a large pair of hands gripping at your waist in the shower, and if you hadn't known better, you might have started swinging.
"Abby, what the hell?" You flinch a little under her grasp, and while you try to sound angry, the amused chuckle that forms with your words is hard to stifle.
"Nice to see you too" Abby mutters, already beginning an assault on your neck with her lips, trailing wet kisses down your skin as she speaks.
"I thought you said you were tired" You try and turn to face her but you're only met with a tightened grip on your body, forcing you to face the glass shower wall.
"I lied."
Before you can think up something snarky to say, Abby presses her front up against you further and you stiffen completely, the sensation of something that definitely isn't normally there now flush against your ass.
"What is that?" You question, turning your head in attempt to get a look at whatever it is she's got rubbing against you, but again she forces your eyes forward, grabbing your chin to make you face the wall again.
"I want you to guess." She purrs, nipping at your earlobe, unable to stop herself from letting out a low chuckle. "C'mon, baby, I know you remember. That shop we passed by the other day? You were all curious about it, but we never got the chance to really look around."
In order to somewhat jog your memory, one of her hands releases its grip on you, wrapping around what she has and pressing it between your soaked thighs, shallowly thrusting it between them. Your breath hitches at the feeling and the memory comes flooding back into your mind. It was a few days back - Manny had pointed out an old sex shop and being the man he is he just couldn't shut up about it. Mostly he'd bragged about how, as much as he'd like to experiment, his own hands and body got the job done just fine.
In the moment it was funny, and a little stupid. The three of you managed to catch a quick glimpse of the interior, seeing some of the different toys that hadn't been looted or destroyed and joking about all of the time people in the Old World must have had to be so experimental with their sex lives. Unbeknownst to you, one toy in particular had caught Abby's eye. She didn't point it out to you or Manny, but right before you all had to leave, the rest of your patrol group having already started packing up to head back to base, she'd hidden it so that she could go back for it later. And she did.
"Figured it out, pretty girl?"
Abby's voice snaps you out of your head and you nod, coaxing another low chuckle out of her.
"You wanna see it?"
The moment her hold on you loosens you turn around, eyes panning down her toned, naked frame to the black harness that was fixed around her hips and landing on the toy that had just been sliding up against your cunt. Your eyes widen at the sight of the thick, purple silicone toy dangling from her body, and as much as you'd like to deny the immediate heat that rises in your belly at the sight of it, you can't.
"I don't think that's gonna fit. And...and what if we get caught, Abs you can't just hide that thing"
You say it without much thought, your words forcing a genuine laugh out of your 'friend'. She shakes her head and playfully rolls her eyes.
"You worry too much, baby. I locked the door. If someone comes knocking, I can just get out and tuck it in my bag before we open the door" She reassures as she gently guides you by your waist to the fogged-up wall, pressing you against it. "And trust me, once I get you nice and warmed up, it'll fit"
Abby sinks to her knees in front of you without another word, settling herself between your legs and dragging her tongue along your slit. The doubt that was once present in the front of your mind quickly starts to fade as she laps at your dripping heat, your hands weaving into her wet hair and holding on to keep her in place. You feel the tip of two of her thick fingers dip into your pussy, coating the digits with your arousal before slipping them into you completely.
She never failed to have this effect on you, and if it weren't so sexy, it'd be frustrating. Your mind is so quick to go blank under her touch, hips unconsciously grinding against her tongue as she swirls it along your puffy clit. Abby's unusually slow about it at first, curling and scissoring her fingers in and out of you, making sure to prepare you as best she can, but by the time she slips in a third finger her impatience and excitement makes itself known. You're practically teetering at the edge of an orgasm when she pulls away from you entirely, a whine escaping you as you're denied a release.
"Abby..."
"Shh, baby I know" Abby murmurs, standing back up, smiling softly as she watches your brows fix together. "I want you to cum on my cock, not my fingers. You can do that for me, can't you?"
Something about the way she refers to it as her own, as if she'd grown it herself sends a shock of electricity through you, and you answer her with an eager nod.
"Atta girl, now be good for me and turn around" She instructs, pushing you flush against the glass when you obey her command.
Abby knows how badly you must be aching at this point, her own precum leaking down her thighs as her eyes rove over your back. Even so, she takes her time, fucking your thighs, calloused palms spreading your ass a bit to get a better view. She groans at the sight of your essence combining with the water, making the dildo glisten in the fluorescent lights.
"God, you're so fucking wet" She whispers. "So ready to get split on my fuckin' dick, aren't you?"
The desperate little whines and the way you wiggle your ass back onto her is all the confirmation she needs to slowly push in, though, to neither of your surprise with how soaked you are, it proves to be rather easy. The difference is almost funny to her. You looked so nervous when you'd seen it initially, and now you were sucking her in like you were used to it.
"There ya go, slipped in so fast baby, fuck"
The way Abby moans when the toy is all the way inside of you, the way she struggles to keep at a slow pace to make sure you're well adjusted to the girth - you'd think she could feel it. It's an adjustment for both of you, the task of keeping it from fully slipping out of you when she pulls back proving to be a tad more annoying than she thought it would be, but she figures it out. And, God, if it isn't fucking worth it when she does.
Each thrust is like a shock to your system, Abby's pace only increasing as she loses herself in the moment. She could probably - and likely will end up - cumming from this alone. It was already a bit of a fantasy in her mind, having often wondered what it would be like to fuck you like this, but she didn't think she actually could. Her vivid blues are transfixed on the way your ass jiggles with each hard thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin only made more intense by the water flowing along your bare bodies.
"A-Abby I- oh my god, please!" Words barely come out of you, and when they do, they're choppy breathless rambles with no real substance. Normally you were so careful about volume, but there are always times when she'd fucked you so stupid that you stopped caring. This, for example, being one of those times.
"So fuckin' pretty...you look so fuckin' pretty trying to take it for me" Her grip on your hips is bound to leave bruising, but all you can think about is how grateful you are for that fact. If not for her hands, you'd be on the ground by now, legs shaking and unable to hold your weight any longer.
Abby knows your tells well enough to see when you're about to explode - the incoherent sobs, twitching legs, your hands desperately trying to grab onto everything - anything that could possibly help ground you even a little bit. It only eggs her on, her arm snaking around your body to rub feverishly at your aching clit, almost impatient in her need to watch you come apart for her.
"Fuck, don't stop Abby, please, 'm so close...so fuckin' close" You manage to blurt out, damn near crying at the intensity, eyes rolled into the back of your head, head lulled forward against the wall. It's taking everything in you not to fall apart this instant but you want to drag it out for just a little longer.
"Almost there, honey, I got you... C-c'mon, be a good girl and cum all over my fucking cock"
The white-hot intensity of your orgasm sends you reeling, a string of curses and choked cries spilling from your lips, arousal further wetting your inner thighs as it spurts out of you. Abby can't help but moan loudly at the sight, continuing to pump in and out of you to let the base of the toy bump against her clit more, her own climax following soon after yours.
Somehow, Abby manages to stay upright despite her legs feeling like putty, knowing full well that if she falls you'll go down with her. Her strong arms wrap around you tightly as she pulls out of you, her sweaty forehead resting against your back as you both work to catch your breath.
"Fuck..that was..." She trails off, the actual strain of her actions hitting her body, making it difficult for her to get a word out between breaths. You giggle at the sound of her struggle, though you aren't doing any better.
"So fucking good.." Is all you breathe out, your mind still too fuzzy to think of something better to say.
Abby just nods, lacking the energy to say something snarky in response, the only sound remaining being the now cold water from the showerhead pitter-pattering against the ground, though eventually, she does force herself to speak up once more.
"Once I....catch my fuckin' breath...we're so doing that again"
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Reblogs are appreciated ☆ tags: @half-of-a-gay, @porcelainmystery,
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babyleostuff · 6 months ago
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passenger princess(es)
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𝜗𝜚 fluff, established relationship 𝜗𝜚 idol!seungcheol x fem!reader 𝜗𝜚 wc: 894
・ ❥ ・ there is nothing that could stop cheol from taking care of his passenger princess(es)
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„hey baby, can you pass me the water bottle?” seungcheol let go of the wheel, so he could grab the bottle from you, not tearing his eyes from the road for a second. 
cheol was a great driver, excellent even in his humble opinion - he has never gotten a ticket in his life, and people told him on multiple occasions how safe they felt with him behind the wheel. he was also very much aware of how hot he looked driving, something he often used against you. with the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up (which accentuated his yummy biceps even more), the expensive watch around his wrist and, for dessert, his other hand resting on your thigh - you had no other way out than to totally thirst over your unfairly sexy boyfriend.
there were times when you found yourself staring at him with no shame, he was that hot. not that seungcheol cared, if he did he wouldn’t flex his biceps on purpose while grabbing the wheel. 
but while he was (obviously) very careful while driving, it seemed that his protective instincts kicked in on a higher level when you were sitting next to him. 
that’s why when you didn’t answer him, or gave him the bottle, he made sure to grab the wheel with both of his hands before throwing a glance at you. 
„my love, did you h-,” words stuck in his throat when he saw your closed eyes and your head resting against the window. cheol knew that sooner or later you would fall asleep anyway, no matter how hard you insisted on not sleeping. “i want to keep you company,” you pouted angrily, and grabbed the AUX, “don’t want you to feel lonely.” it was on the tip of cheol's tongue that there was no chance he would feel lonely, even if you were sleeping. not to mention your little white fluff ball in the backseat that always kept him company. 
„you see, told you mommy would fall asleep,” he laughed, looking at your precious baby in the rearview mirror. kkuma seemed to have the best time looking at the passing cars, barking at some of them, and wagging her tail at others. 
seungcheol sighed with a smile, as he grabbed your hand that was resting on your tummy. „ah, what am i going to do with you, my silly girls.” 
to be honest - he couldn't have been more content. you spent the whole day together on the beach, with kkuma running into the waves (she ended up looking like a wet mop), eating food from the seaside food stalls, walking along the shore, and finally ending the day with a swim together. days off were the best. 
suddenly, his daydream was cut short when he felt you shiver. cheol wouldn’t have been that worried (you sometimes got those shivers in your sleep, which he always found really cute), but you grabbed his hand tighter, as if you were searching for more body heat. he frowned as he ran his hand over your arm, feeling the goosebumps on your skin. 
„why didn’t you just tell me you were cold,” he muttered, half annoyed, and half worried. your hair was still wet, and your clothes damp after you put them over your swimsuit, so if the AC was too low you could get sick - something seungcheol wouldn’t let happen, even if it meant he’d have to fight the illness himself. 
fortunately, there was a gas station a few kilometers away.
he parked right next to a small field of grass so he could also let kkuma out for a moment, and opened the trunk in search of a blanket he could cover you with. cheol also found his sweater and decided that two layers wouldn’t hurt. 
to avoid any neck or back cramps, seungcheol gently repositioned you in your seat so as not to wake you up, but still let you sleep peacefully without straining any muscles. technically he could just turn the heating on, but he just let you freeze for the past god knows how many minutes - he had to bundle you up. „my pretty girl,” he stroked your cheek, leaning in to kiss your nose, before covering you with the sweater. 
„c-cheollie?” you suddenly mumbled, and raised your hand to rub your eyes. your boyfriend couldn’t help but laugh at your slightly confused expression.  
„i pulled over, baby,” he said softly. „you were sleeping and you were clearly freezing, which by the way, please let me know next time if you're cold, so i stopped to cover you up.” 
you looked at him with big, sleepy eyes like you were still trying to figure out which planet you were on - you were clearly still too tired to understand. „’s okay, go back to sleep.” 
some people were afraid of sleeping in cars, after all, there were so many situations that could lead to a catastrophe - what if the driver fell asleep or did not notice the approaching vehicle? 
but you were not scared at all, not in the slightest. if you had to pick one person on earth that made you feel the safest, you’d pick choi seungcheol without a hesitation. in a car or not - you knew he’d protect you no matter what. 
that's why, without thinking, you nodded and closed your eyes, falling back asleep.
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julymusings · 13 days ago
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will you hold me instead, and tell me that it's over now?
i look forward to a little me and you, so now i hope that you don't tell me that it's over
or; patching jason up after an intense mission [2.1k]
jason todd x fem!reader; angst/fluff; brief mentions of human trafficking and allusion to murder (he's talking about how the mission went); mention of his scars; jason being insecure & thinking he's not good enough😞; description of injuries and the first aid applied to them (please do not take anything as actual medical advice); this is me hard-launching my physical touch x touch starved!jason agenda
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You don’t know how early it is when you hear the sound of the front door opening and closing, just that it’s too early. It’s not like you could sleep anyway; you spent the night drifting in and out of semi-consciousness, too worried to let yourself relax. You always got like this when Jason went away on missions. Several days, and sometimes even weeks, spent anxiously anticipating the state in which he would return home—you haven’t been able to get a manicure since before you met him.
You’re still a little delirious when a hand ghosts up your arm, stirring you from your half-sleep. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room and register the sight in front of you. Your boyfriend is on one knee on the floor in front of you, brushing strands of hair out of your face with endearing eyes.
“There she is,” he says when you lift your head off the pillow and reach out to him. He catches your hand and kisses your fingertips, spreading a warmth up your arm that combats the midnight chill. You push yourself up to a sitting position, and he takes the opportunity to cup his hands around your face and bring you in for a kiss.
“Missed you,” you mumble against him, and his lips curve upwards against yours.
“Missed you too, sweetheart.” His mouth travels up from yours towards your temple, leaving a path of gentle kisses in his wake. Your palms, pressed flat against his chest, slide up to loop around his neck. He tenses, choking back a strained grunt. But you catch it.
You pull back abruptly. “Are you hurt?” Your eyes frantically dart around, scanning his entire body. Now fully alert, you reach over to the bedside table and switch the lamp on.
“’s just a bruise, baby, I’m fine.” A hand comes up to shield his eyes from the sudden brightness. But with newly unobstructed vision, you can see more than just a bruise. He has a busted lip, a shallow gash on his temple, and splotches of purple and red peeking out of his shirt collar.
“You’re bleeding, Jason,” you chastise him, getting up off the bed.
He stands alongside you with a huff. “It’s nothing,” he sighs. “Doesn’t even hurt.” But when you take his hand and start pulling him to the bathroom, he follows without argument. You lead Jason to sit down on the edge of the tub and fetch the first aid kit from under the sink, setting it down next to him on the bathtub ledge. You stand between his legs, your positions making you a half-head taller than him. He gazes up at you and for the first time tonight you notice how dark and deep the skin under his eyes is.
“Off,” you order, dragging up the hem of his shirt. He helps you pull it off, wincing when it requires him to lift his bruised arm.
“Someone’s eager,” he muses, raising his eyebrows in a teasing manner. It earns him a swat on the arm; he grunts loudly and doubles over in pain.
You gasp. “Oh my god! Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I—”
But when he looks up, it’s with a coy smirk and a twinkle in his eye. You swat him again.
“Asshole,” you mutter, but you can’t help the slight twitch at the corner of your lips. “Why didn’t you take care of this earlier? Alfred wasn’t at the manor to help you?”
He shrugs his good shoulder. “Don’t know. Came straight here.”
“Did you tell anyone where you were going?” You ask.
He looks at you blankly, as if to say, don’t you know who you’re talking to?
You sigh, exasperated. “You shouldn’t have done that, Jason. What if ended up becoming serious? And you didn’t make it here in time? What if—” 
He interrupts your doom spiral by pressing a finger to your lips. “I know, honey, I’m sorry. But I wanted to see you.”
You sigh. There’s a sadness to it, one that comes from familiarity with the fact that he does not care for himself as much as he should—as much as he deserves. But there are no words to make him believe it that you haven’t tried, so all you do is lean your forehead against his, hoping he can hear what you're not saying. You need him to hear you.
“You’re not sorry,” you whisper.
“No, I’m not,” he whispers back.
You start with his shoulder, which was decidedly not ‘just a bruise,’ but actually several bruises, all clumped together to form one giant Franken-bruise that covered his entire shoulder. It gets rubbed with ointment and you’re not sure who it pains more, because while you’re spilling out frantic apologies as you try to speed through it, Jason is white-knuckling the edge of the tub with a wad of gauze between his teeth. 
His lip doesn’t require any medical attention, but he insists you kiss it better anyway, and who are you to deny him? 
You tend to his temple last, but he’s antsy now. His leg bounces up and down, one hand is drumming its fingers on the tub, and the other is fiddling with the loose threads that hang from the hem of your shirt; you have to scold him into sitting still.
“Where’s the dermabond?” You ask, sifting through the contents of the first aid kid.
“Used it up last month, remember? After you just had to feed that fuckin’ squirrel.” His voice is gruff at the recollection. “Should be a new pack under the sink.”
You fetch the new box, picking at the plastic wrapping. “Can you blame me? He was so cute.”
“Yeah, was. Until that greedy fucker decided he wanted the whole picnic.” Jason sees you struggling with the plastic covering and takes it from you, breaks it open, then hands it back. “Bastard.”
You giggle. “You know, you could’ve just let him have the cupcake. It wasn’t worth risking rabies for.” You fish out the glass tube of surgical glue, tossing its cardboard box aside.
“‘Course it was. My girl wanted red velvet, she should get her red velvet.” Jason’s hands finally rest on the backs of your bare thighs, squeezing them lightly. He grins when that makes you let out a little squeak.
You roll your eyes, though there’s a warmth flowing in your veins that courses from the tips of your ears to the bottom of your feet. “My hero,” you muse with a smile.
There’s a pause. Then:
“I’m not a hero,” he responds. His tone is still light, but his eyes feel far away.
You start to clean the blood from the wound, which has since clotted and dried, with a saline-soaked cotton pad. He stares at you while you clean and then close the cut with the glue. And when you finish, supplies set aside and glue cured, he’s still staring. His eyes are traveling all over your face, taking in each feature, committing every ridge, every angle, every pore, every freckle to memory. The light-hearted teasing demeanor from mere moments ago is long gone. You're a deer caught in emerald headlights.
You recognize this shift. You noticed hints of it since he arrived home, but assumed it was just due to the pain. Now it’s obvious that there’s more. It’s the same shift that comes when the news becomes a circus, or when he stares at his scars in the mirror for too long.
His hands slide up your body slowly, reverently. One stops at your waist while the other continues, blazing a trail up your ribcage, over the side of your breast. He pauses at your shoulder for a split second, squeezing the flesh every so gently before continuing up your neck. His thumb drags across your collarbone, brushing against the spot that always lights up your senses and parts your lips in a breathy sigh. He stops when he reaches your face. He cups your cheek. Your hand covers his and you lean into his hold, the stroke of your small, soft fingers juxtaposing the rough callouses of his knuckles. You stay here for a moment before turning to press your lips to his palm once, twice, thrice, four times, each one lingering a little longer than the last.
“What is it, Jason?” Your hands come to cradle his neck before dragging up to his hair, and his move to wrap around your torso and pull you closer into him. You place a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Hmm?”
“I’m not a hero,” he says again, softer.
“Jay,” you whisper. “You know that’s not true.”
He says nothing, only heaving a heavy sigh and burying his face into the crook of your neck. You’re content to stand like this, to simply hold him and graze your nails against his scalp for as long as he needs while he inhales the comforting scent of your skin.
After what could have been one minute or twenty, he pulls back to look up at you. He looks exhausted. “It was a human trafficking case,” he says. “They knew we were closing in on ‘em, so we had to act fast. They were…trying to…” He trails off, unsure how to put it in words delicate enough to spare you. He breaks eye contact. “Destroy the evidence,” he finishes.
You don’t respond. Despite the heavy silence that follows this admission, you know he’s not done. It takes another several minutes of stroking fingers and feather-light hairline kisses to coax it out of him.
“There was a woman. She…we didn’t—“ His voice cracks. “I didn’t get there in time.”
“Oh, honey.” You run your palm over his forehead, pushing back his thick waves. His eyelids slide down over glassy irises as he sinks into your touch. You lean down to press your lips to his forehead. “You know that’s not your fault,” you whisper. He shakes his head, eyes still closed.
“But if I’d just—”
“No, Jason.” You grip his face between your palms. He opens his eyes at the sudden sternness. “But nothing. You did everything you possibly could—”
“You don’t know that,” he interrupts.
“I do know that. I know because you are always doing everything you can. For me, and for everyone in this city. And I know that it wasn’t just you on that mission. Do you blame anyone else for what happened?”
He says nothing, but his eyes are welling with tears.
“You saved so many other people, Jason. You are a hero, and you know that. You have to know that.” Some of his tears spill over, but you brush your thumbs across his cheeks and kiss them away.
He pulls you onto his lap so your legs are straddled over his and rests his head against your sternum. His arms squeeze impossibly tight around your waist, but you don’t say anything. When his shoulders tremble and you feel the dampness on the front of your shirt, you still don’t say anything. And when he places a hand on the back of your head to pull you in for a hard, searing kiss that leaves you both breathless, you don’t say anything. You just look at him, at how pretty he is, and hope that he can hear you.
The sounds of buzzing echo in from the next room. To your dismay, he turns away, towards the direction of your phones. “I should get that,” he says. His voice is hollow. “It’s probably the bats wanting to know where I am. They’ll send a search party if I don’t check in.”
He’s about to move you off his lap, but you stop him. “In a minute, Jay.”
Jason’s forehead crinkles. You use your thumb to smooth it out.
“Please?” You breathe out. “Just let me look at you a little longer. I love looking at you.”
He relaxes back into his seat. And you keep looking at him. At his beautifully rosy cheeks and shining eyes, his puffed lips. The scar that runs diagonally down his slightly crooked nose.
It’s dawn now; the tangerine beginnings of sunrise elicit a soft glow that spills through the window. Jason takes it all in. The two of you together in the home you share, arms around each other, your face all honeyed and beautiful in the light.
And you know he can hear you.
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love when you guys leave messages/feedback it really brightens up my day<3
divider is from here
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rafey-baby · 2 months ago
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c/w: stalker!rafe being creepy & stealing naive!reader's underwear, suggestive texts from an unknown number & a stranger walking her home
wc: 2.3k
he’s been on my mind lately…happy kinktober xx
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The feeling of impending doom has been crawling up her bones for several weeks now. At first, she thought it was merely her imagination playing tricks on her; having watched one too many horror films with her friends.
However, as the days went on and the feeling of unease continued, she began to feel paranoid. 
She kept feeling like someone was watching her; lurking in the shadowy corners of her house and following her every movement with a morbid gaze glued to her form whether she was out with friends or merely cleaning her living room.
She didn’t like it, didn’t know when it exactly began but she wanted nothing more than for the peculiar feeling to disappear.
She’d be changing her clothes in order to get ready for bed when suddenly a shiver would tingle along her spine and make her snap her head towards her window; trying to desperately catch some creep ogling her, so she'd finally have some sort of an explanation. Instead, she’d be met with nothing more than the leafy trees of her gloomy backyard before she’d quickly draw the curtains closed. 
In addition, lately she’d been having nightmares more often than usual; waking up in the middle of the night panting with her heart thudding in her ribcage and sometimes she could swear she felt the eyes of a stranger still lingering on her sweaty skin. 
Then one night, when she’s rinsing her mouth after brushing her teeth, her phone lights up with a notification.
unknown number
why are your bedroom curtains never open anymore?
look so pretty in your underwear…
4 attachments
The device clatters against the bathroom tiles when it slips from her hold as her eyes scan over the multiple pictures of her half naked; all taken through the glass of the large window in her room. A window she's lately been making sure is covered at all times.
She plucks it from the floor with trembling fingers and reads over the messages once more; heart rapidly thudding in her ribcage making it hard for her to think as her fingertips glide across the screen to type out a response. 
you
who is this?
im gonna call the cops
unknown number
do I scare you?
And instead of responding, she blocks the number. However, when the police arrive and search her house and her backyard, they find nothing. They merely tell her that it’s ’probably nothing serious, just some kid pulling a prank on you’ with an apologetic smile before leaving. 
A couple of days go by and she’s beginning to believe that maybe it was truly someone playing tricks on her when all of a sudden, her phone vibrates with an incoming call from another unknown number as she’s boiling pasta for dinner.
This time, she decides to simply ignore it; choosing to believe it’s someone calling the wrong number for her own peace of mind. However, that’s long forgotten when a new message illuminates the screen and her breath gets caught in her windpipe as she scans it over. 
unknown number
breaking my heart here princess :(
you
leave me alone
unknown number
but that’s no fun, is it?
you
what do u want from me?
unknown number
want you to keep your curtains open more often
you
so u can take more pictures of me?
unknown number
can just watch if that’s what you prefer?
you
leave me alone
please
She repeats before turning off her phone for the rest of the night. 
She thinks he’s actually listened because no unknown numbers try to contact her for some time, causing her to turn less anxious by each silent day that rolls around. However, when she begins to notice that pairs of her underwear keep disappearing, her mind wanders over to the only person who could be behind it.
At first, she doesn’t think too much of the fact that she can’t seem to find her favorite panties anywhere, assuming she’s merely misplaced them. However, when a white lacy pair she saves for special occasions vanishes from her drawer she grows restless. If she hasn’t worn it in months, it should be where she left it, right?
The air suddenly feels like sand; poking at her lungs as if it’s filled with tiny rocks when she becomes aware of the fact that in order for him to steal her stuff he’s had to break into her home. Therefore, he’s been in her bedroom before and probably her kitchen, living room and bathroom as well. And the first time could’ve easily been weeks ago. 
Nausea steeped in dread grovels up her insides and sits heavy in her stomach at the realization that he could be in here right now.
If he wanted to hurt her, then he would’ve done it by now. Or at least that’s what she keeps telling herself in order to offer some form of solace for her troubled thoughts.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The following night she’s wiping her eyes clean of mascara by the sink when a text pops up. 
psycho stalker
someone came home late
have fun on your date?
Chills erupt on her skin as she peers down at the screen. After the all too tedious date she’s just had, she’s entirely too exhausted with his arduous mind games on top of it all; wants to bury herself under her covers and close her eyes for an eternity.
However, she’s not entirely convinced he won’t come up with another way to disturb her if she stops responding altogether as another message pops up.
psycho stalker
assuming not too much fun since you didn’t bring him home..
you
none of your business 
psycho stalker
was he boring?
talked about himself the whole time and didn’t ask a single question about you?
She blinks a few times because he’s not exactly wrong. How on earth did he— 
you
what the fuck is wrong with you
you’re following me now??
She tries to remember whether she saw anyone suspicious at the restaurant but she can’t recall anything out of the ordinary catching her attention. However, she wasn’t aware she was supposed to keep her eyes open for her possible stalker, which is why her brain isn’t being very helpful at the moment.
psycho stalker
just wanted to make sure you were safe
you
I feel very safe right now thank you
psycho stalker
someone’s got an attitude
that bad?
you
please just leave me alone 
psycho stalker
what color are your panties?
you
what the hell?
not telling you that
psycho stalker
want me to come over and find out for myself then? 
you
u wouldn’t do that 
psycho stalker
wanna bet?
She tries to even out her respiration because she does not want to find out whether he’s merely toying with her or if he’s actually being serious. 
you
black
psycho stalker
with the lace?
you
yes
psycho stalker
shit
that’s one of my favorites on you
you
you’re sick in the head
psycho stalker
that’s not very nice
did you wear them for him?
you
he wasn’t worth it
don’t think he would’ve even been able to make me come
psycho stalker
yeah?
need help with that?
you
not from you creep
why are you stealing my underwear?
psycho stalker
cause you don’t give me shows anymore :(
they’re a little dirty now but want me to return them?
you
you’re disgusting
psycho stalker
and you're up past your bedtime cause you like talking to me
you
I don't
gonna sleep now
please leave me alone
psycho stalker
sweet dreams princess
At that, she finally locks her phone; wishing she’ll actually be granted some well needed rest tonight.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 
One night she’s walking home from the grocery store, mind occupied with the prospect of digging into the tub of strawberry ice cream in her bag as she’s messaging her friend who’s enthusiastically telling her the details of the kiss she shared with a girl she’d had a crush on for ages.  
Then completely out of the blue, she bumps into someone’s sturdy chest.  
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she's quick to apologize before she looks up and is met with blue sapphires that twinkle even under the dim street lamps.  
They’re slightly covered by the guy’s chocolate hair falling into his face, resulting in him raking a hand through the strands as his brows raise, almost like he's surprised. However, that wouldn't really make any sense since she's never seen him before, she figures. 
“S’all good. Wasn’t really looking either,” he rasps out as his intense gaze bores into her, almost as if he’s studying her; examining her every reaction. 
“No, it was really my fault. Shouldn’t be texting and walking at the same time,” she forces out a laugh and tries to step away from him and continue on with her journey. However, he halts her movements when he speaks up again.   
“Shouldn’t be walking alone this late either, you know. All kinds of creeps out here just waiting for the opportunity to attack pretty girls like you,” he reminds her with a strange tinge to his voice that causes the hairs on her arms to stand.  
She’s unable to pinpoint what it is exactly. She thinks his features are otherwise quite appealing but there’s something almost disturbing about his aura. 
“I know, but it’s really just a ten-minute walk. I’ll be fine,” she offers him a tight smile, timidly fiddling with the strap of her shopping bag.  
“Why don’t I walk you home, yeah?” His offer comes out as something ominous rather than concern over her safety and the stillness of the darkened October sky surrounding them suddenly makes unease litter across her skin.  
“No, I think I’m okay. Thank you, though,” she politely declines and tries to tiptoe away from his intimidating presence, albeit uselessly.  
“It’s past midnight already, let me walk you,” he nearly insists; seemingly not accepting no for an answer as his tone resembles more of a demand now. 
“O— okay, um…sure,” she swallows around the words and watches how the corners of his mouth tug up. What has she gotten herself into? For all she knows, this man could be a serial killer and she's just signed up her faith as his next victim. 
The murky sidewalk is quiet as they tread along it and she keeps glancing towards him every now and then; reassuring herself that a sharp knife or a gun hasn't magically appeared in his hand. 
Although, she thinks he wouldn't need a weapon to drag her helpless form into the woods with his much stronger arms. Under the obscurity provided by the old trees, he could easily strangle her until her soul would wither away from her lifeless eyes; getting his fix from leaving her limp body on the muddy moss as death kisses her cold, tear-streaked cheeks.  
“Something on your mind?” His sudden question makes her jump. 
“N— no, nothing. I just— have we met before?” She hesitantly asks, turning to look at him and noticing his gaze already resting on her face.  
“Pretty sure I’d remember if we had,” his indistinct response is calm, too calm for her liking.  
“It's just that, um, it's a small neighborhood and I've never seen you around?” She flits her eyes over to him, trying to figure him out. 
“I don't live here,” his tongue peeks out to wet his bottom lip; the ambiguity of his answer not soothing her racing brain in the slightest.  
“Oh, okay...cool,” she peeps out; trying to appear as nonchalant as ever, even if her breathing has turned fragmented and her head is spinning.  
A gruesome smirk morphs his mouth at her obvious nervousness and for some reason, he appears to be enjoying this; finding crooked entertainment in her dismay.  
He halts in front of her home before she’s even digested that they’ve already arrived at her destination.  
“How did you— how did you know this was my house?” She tentatively wonders. 
“Lucky guess,” he merely shrugs with a smile that's nowhere near uplifting. 
She blinks. 
“Right, well, thanks for walking me...I’m gonna go now,” she squeaks out and takes a step towards the front yard.  
“Sweet dreams, Princess,” he murmurs and her entire form tenses in response to the familiarity of the nickname. 
“What did you just say?” Something dire bubbles up in her throat at the bizarre sense of deja vu. 
“Just wished you a good night? You feeling alright?” He furrows his brows in what should appear as concern for her wellbeing but she notices something twisted glinting in his overly worried eyes; almost like some sort of sick satisfaction.  
“I’m— I’m fine. Just…tired, I guess,” she manages out as a crease forms between her brows and her breathing grows labored when his mouth curls into an almost sinister smirk.  
“You sure?”  
She flinches when he sets a heavy hand on her arm and he's suddenly all too close for comfort. 
“Y— yes,” she tries to pull away. However, she unfortunately stumbles on her wobbly feet, nearly tumbling down on the harsh grass if not for his firm arms holding her upright by a grip on her waist. 
“Careful now, don't wanna hurt yourself, do you?” He scolds her with a click of his tongue; steadying her with an intrigued narrow of blue gemstones.  
“Sorry,” a breathy apology escapes past her lips as her eyes flicker down to where his touch is burning her skin, even through the thick material of her sweater. 
“Run along then, yeah?” He murmurs as he lets go of her along with a small push towards the right direction.   
Then she’s scurrying over to her doorstep, feeling his eerie stare following her; trepidation clogging her lungs as she decides against glancing towards him once more, closing her front door and making sure it’s locked, twice. 
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really-fanny-longbottom · 5 months ago
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only in my dreams [part two]
summary: you turned off your emotions so you could protect your heart but at what price?
warnings: angst, mentions of unrequited love, curse words, blood and death.
pairings: azriel x reader
words: 8.5k
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Morning was here. 
You left Emerie's house when the first rays of sunlight passed through the half-open bedroom window. 
Your friends were still sound asleep when you pushed away their arms that tried to offer you some comfort during the night and got out of bed. 
You had no intention in waiting for them to wake up and having to talk about what had happened just a few hours ago. 
So you quickly changed your clothes and placed the backpack you had brought with you over your left shoulder.  
You didn't bother looking back when you left the room.
The front door closed behind you, and you found yourself facing the sun that was almost reaching its usual place in the blue sky. 
Sunrise has always been your favorite part of the day.  
Not only for the view, but also for its meaning - every time the sun rises, a new day comes with it, a new day that seems like a new blank page giving you a new opportunity to do your best and let go of the past on the day that was left behind. 
Besides, being a healer meant that your day always started early, so why not start it with the best view ever?
When you lived with your aunt Madja, you would go to the bridge over the Sidra and sit on the wall and when you moved to the House of the Wind you would go to your balcony and do the same.
You would close your eyes and tilt your head slightly upwards and immediately relax with the sunlight passing through your body and warming not only your skin but also your soul.
You don't know if it was because you're an empath but you've always felt a connection with the sun, as if you could feel its energy, it was as if the sun itself had emotions and was trying to communicate with you.
You loved how it made you feel.
But that was before.
Now, standing in the doorway of Emerie's house, as you looked at it, you didn't know what to do.
You stayed there for a few moments waiting for something to happen - for you to feel something.
But nothing came.
With a shrug of your shoulders, you turned your back on what used to be your greatest comfort and step by step you began to move away from it and the house.
As you walked, you didn't notice that the camp was starting to wake up, just as you didn't notice the sunlight fading away.
You winnowed as soon as you reached the edge of the camp.
-
Twenty minutes later, you were in Velaris about to arrive at your aunt's house to take a much-needed shower.
As you walked up the street, you didn't pay attention to any of the citizens who were opening their establishments and getting ready for a new day of work.
Some of them tried to get your attention to greet you just like they always did. You would look at them with your eyes full of color and wave greetings with a warm smile, sometimes you would even stop and talk to some of them.
But not anymore.
Now, you simply walked with an expression of indifference without removing your empty eyes from the path ahead.
You only stopped when an all too familiar voice filled the air around you - the voice of the last person you wanted to see right now. "Y/N."
You could already see your aunt's house from here, and you were so close to getting there. 
Slowly, you turned around and faced the person who had stopped you from reaching your destination.
It was the wife of the patient you lost yesterday with one of their sons by her side, both wearing mourning clothes.
"I'm sorry to bother you, but I saw you passing by, and I just wanted to thank you again for what you did for my husband yesterday." She told you with a weak voice, her eyes still red.
With a fake smile on your features, you ran a hand through your hair before telling her, "I was just doing my job. After all, that's what I'm paid for."
Surprised by your reaction, the female lost her words and after a few seconds to compose herself, she cleared her throat and said "Well, the funeral is this afternoon at three o'clock if you want to join us."
You laughed, and without a care in the world, you responded, "No, thank you. I have better things to do but have fun."
And with that, you turned your back on them and walked up the rest of the street before removing the small key from your backpack and entering your aunt's house.
The wife and son remained in their places, trying to understand what had just happened. 
-
After placing your backpack on the sofa, you started heading to the stairs towards the bathroom, but before you could, an irritated voice stopped you in your tracks. "Where have you been?"
"Oh, for Cauldron's sake," you muttered and turned to find Madja with her arms crossed and an angry face.
"I was with the Valkyries. I spent the night at Emerie's." You told her with a tone of annoyance.
"I'm aware of that. The High Lord had the decency to send me a letter unlike you," Madja scolded before continuing, her voice turning softer. "He also told me what happened about Azriel." 
When she opened her mouth to speak again, you raised a hand and stopped her from it, "Okay, auntie, it's too early for this. I'm going to take a shower and I'll see you at the clinic. Okay. Cool."
You used both hands to give the cool sign, but before you could step on the stairs, Madja called you again. "Wait."
"Ugh, you gotta be kidding me," you whispered low enough for her not to hear.
You saw your aunt grab a piece of parchment and hand it to you. "This arrived for you a few minutes ago." 
When you unrolled it, you recognized Nesta's handwriting. 
She was asking where you were. 
Without hesitation, you crumpled the paper and threw it into the middle of the fireplace where it instantly began to burn.
"Anything else?"
When your aunt didn't speak, you accepted her silence as an answer and started climbing the stairs by jumping two steps at a time. 
The bathroom door closed seconds later, and Madja, who didn't know what animal had bitten you to react like that, put a hand to her forehead before muttering to herself, "What was that?"  
-
The clinic was very busy like almost every day but you never complained.
Unlike other people, you could happily say that you liked your work. Being a healer has always been a rewarding job. 
There was nothing else you enjoyed as much as helping your patients. Heal them, make them feel safe, and heard. Make them feel important.
Your favorite days were the days you helped a new life enter this world. Seeing those beings so small and innocent was the best miracle of life.  
But of course, like all jobs, yours also had a bad side. 
Seeing your patients sick and knowing that in some cases there is nothing you can do to help, seeing them leave this life and the family they leave behind. 
There were patients who had left such an impact on you that from time to time, they appeared in your dreams. 
Sometimes, you felt guilty at their memory because you felt like you could have done more, but most of the time, their memories reminded you to do better for others.  
But none of that mattered to you anymore. Now you simply limited yourself to doing your job so you could get paid. 
You were finishing bandaging the knee of a boy who had tripped while running.
The boy had become a regular patient of yours, always finding a way to hurt himself, whether it is running or reading a book.
It was a simple wound that didn't require the use of your powers, so you cleaned, disinfected, and put a bandage on it.
Your right hand held his injured leg while the other tried to wrap the bandage, when you finished and lowered his leg, you noticed that he had a bruise in the exact place where your hand had been just seconds before.
With your focus on the wound, you hadn't even noticed the bruise. You went behind the counter and grabbed a bottle of ointment that you had made last weekend and handed it to the boy.
"Take this," you pointed to the bruise that had several shades of purple on his leg, "twice a day, one in the morning and one at night. If it starts to hurt, put some ice on it."
Following the movement of your hand, the boy saw the bruise for the first time with a confused face "Oh, I didn't even know I had that," he grabbed the bottle and with a toothless smile, he started heading towards the door but not without shouting first "Thank you Y/N! I'll see you next week." 
"Whatever" you let out a sigh and walked towards your chair to take a break but before you could your aunt directed you to the next patient. 
It was an old male who mixed up the plants in his garden and ended up using the wrong plant as a seasoning for his food.
He was slightly pale, nauseous, and had stomach pain.
"You mistake a poisonous plant for a seasoning plant?" You asked as you examined him, judgment written all over your face and voice.
"Yes, I know what it looks like," he explained between short breaths, "but it was an honest mistake."
"It was a stupid mistake." You answered him without hesitation.
You were too busy finishing your exam to notice Madja's shocked expression, who had stopped what she was doing at the sound of your words.
"Y/N!" She approached and scolded you. "You can't talk to patients like that."
"Why? It's true. It's not my fault he's an idiot." You told her with frightening indifference.
At your response, your aunt put her hands to her head with a whisper of "By the Mother," escaping between her lips.
She got closer to the patient and placed one hand on his arm before bringing the other to her chest and apologizing to him for your behavior.
The male, on the other hand, said, "It's okay, she happens to be right."
You scoffed "Of course I am," you turned to your aunt and with an air of irritation you asked her "Now, are you going to let me work or haven't you finished disturbing me yet?"
Shocked by your words, Madja didn't know how to react or what to say, so she limited herself to taking two steps back, giving you space to continue working.
She looked at you, trying to understand what was happening to you, because this type of behavior was not normal.
You had never spoken to her like that - you had never spoken to anyone like that.
You were sweet, attentive, and very polite. This was not the niece she knew.
She couldn't help but think that maybe this situation with Azriel and Elain was affecting more than you had let on.
Plus, she was well acquainted with how much your emotions could overwhelm you. 
Choking sounds broke the trance she was in, and her mind refocused on what was in front of her.
You had started the healing process in the patient, and your hand hovered over his belly in order to try to eliminate the poison, but something was wrong.
Because the patient was now paler and bleeding from his mouth.
Madja saw you stop and look at her. "I think the poison is stronger than I thought." You kept looking at her, no doubt waiting for her to react, but when she didn't, you couldn't help the sarcastic comment that escaped you. "Are you waiting for him to die? Because my arms are starting to get numb." 
That was enough to make her move and begin her own examination of the patient.
She frowned. Did you really just say that? 
"Are you sure you gave me the correct name of the plant you used in your food?" You asked the patient while using a cloth to clean the blood, irritation in your voice.
He simply shook his head in confirmation.
"Maybe the plant you used was in contact with another. Are there any other poisonous plants in your garden?"
The male shook his head again, but this time in denial.
Your brain started working quickly trying to see all the possibilities and it was then that you turned to your aunt and found yourself saying "Maybe it's because he ate a long time ago and that allowed the poison to spread. I mean, who knows how long this idiot ingested a poisonous plant." 
Madja didn't answer you and due to her silence, you removed your hands from the patient and met her gaze with your empty eyes and a bored expression in your features "Okay, so you got this right? I'm hungry, so I'm going to take a break." And with a look of disgust, you walked away.
The old female's heart was beating very fast. She couldn't believe what she had just witnessed.
Not just your words but also your actions.
Maybe she had seen wrong. 
Maybe what she saw and made her freeze before you caught her attention hadn't happened.
Maybe she just imagined it. 
Because it couldn't be.
Could it?
-
Several days passed, and you continued to act strangely since the day you returned from Illyria. 
Madja was observing you now more than ever, and little by little, she began to assimilate all the differences that you now demonstrated, but the one that worried her the most until now?  
The reason she made you work behind the counter taking care of patient charts so you wouldn't have to interact with them medically. 
You weren't the niece she knew and loved so much, and she began to think that something else must have happened - something you weren't sharing with her. 
And if Madja was honest with herself, you were starting to scare her.
Your behavior continued to become increasingly strange - how you interacted with patients, the way you spoke to her, your 'new clothes', and your nights out.
Not to mention what you had said to the family of the patient you lost a week ago. 
Madja met them in the market when she went shopping for groceries, and when the widow told her what you had said them, she didn't want to believe that such insensitivity had come from you. 
She thought about asking the Inner Circle if they knew anything but after meeting the High Lady on the street as she left her studio the other day, she informed Madja that it had been almost a week and a half since any of them had seen or spoken to you. 
Feyre also explained that both she and the others sent several letters to you, and none returned with a response.
Not even Nesta knew where you were these days. 
It was with this new information that Madja's heart began to tighten more and more with worry. Her sleep no longer came as it used to, and the feeling of calm that used to hover over her was gone. 
Madja was well aware of your relationship with the older Archeron sister, that she was not just a best friend but a sister.
So why wouldn't you be talking to her? With none of them? 
-
Rita's was full as always - full of life, light, and music.
People danced while others drank and gamble. Laughter, singing, and shouts of euphoria filled the air of the familiar bar. 
This has always been one of your favorite places to spend time with your family, not to mention that Rita herself was a long-time friend.
Good memories were formed on the dance floor with Feyre and Nesta, on the karaoke stage with Mor, several shot battles with Cassian that often ended with the two of you on the floor and too many card games with Rhys and Azriel where you took all their money.
Whenever these memories surfaced, they warmed your heart and made you feel lucky to have these people by your side.
Now, you felt nothing besides an emptiness in your heart, but at least your heart was whole again, and that's what mattered. 
You ordered your third drink of the night, and the moment you took the first sip, a deep voice was heard from behind you.
"Can I join you, my Lady?"
When you turned to find the owner of the mysterious voice, you couldn't hide the surprise on your face which you quickly replaced with a mischievous smile "Well, well, well, look what the wind brought." 
Your colorless eyes meet golden ones that belong to a male with fiery hair and a smile that matches yours displayed on his lips.
You let your eyes roam the male in front of you as you analyzed him. He wore a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the top two buttons open, brown pants where his muscles were visible and black boots.
"Eris Vanserra," you held out your hand for him to shake. Instead, he grabbed it and placed a kiss on your knuckles.
"Lady Y/N," he greeted, his eyes always fixed on yours. 
You let out a light chuckle as you ran your eyes over the male again as he took the seat next to you. "Well, you look delicious." 
"I could say the same about you," he replied with a chuckle, and now it was his turn to look at your form.
You wore a simple black strapless dress that fit your curves perfectly with a slit in the skirt on your left thigh and a pair of silver high heels that matched your jewelry. 
Eris ordered his drink, and after you hit each other's glasses with a small 'cheers', you asked him the question you wanted since your eyes had landed on him.
"You are far from home. Tell me, what brings you to Velaris?" You took a sip of your drink before continuing. "Does Rhysand even know you're here?" 
Following your movements, Eris took a sip from his glass before putting it down and answering, "I'm here because of him, actually. I had a meeting with him and his Inner Circle a few hours ago."  
"Oh, and I thought you had come here just to see me," you said as you signaled the bartender to refill your glass.  
"That can be arranged," the Heir replied as he took another sip without ever taking his eyes off yours. 
You cleared your throat after an unexpected heat warmed your cheeks. "I'm surprised he let you come here." 
Eris chucked and turned around in his chair and faced you before resting one of his arms on the back of your chair. "I'm surprised I didn't see you at the meeting with the others. Did you lose the invitation?" 
You let out a laugh as you tilted your head back slightly before meeting those golden eyes again. "Nope, I just didn't want to go. Those meetings bore me to death." 
Eris's laughter rivaled yours and after losing yourself to the sound for a few seconds, you regained composure and found yourself saying to him "So if the meeting ended a few hours ago, what are you still doing here?" 
The male stared at you for a few seconds and you noticed his smile weakened a little at your question but he was quick to hide it before answering you "Maybe I wanted to see you before I left." 
"You mean you want to avoid Beron." 
Shock crossed the male's features, and when he opened his mouth to respond, you were quick to raise a hand towards him and stop him. "I'm an empath. Reading people is kinda my thing, remember?" 
"Right, sometimes I forget that," he picked up his glass again and turned it around a few times in his hand and this time he kept his eyes on the drink as he asked, "so, does that mean you've read me before?" " 
"Yes." 
"And what did you read?"
"That this whole act of you being a bad, terrible and heartless male is just that. An act." 
His eyes finally meet yours, and you proceed. "That you care. That you love your mother and Lucien more than you let on. And that you love your court and can't wait to get it out of Beron's claws." 
"Hm," Eris leaned against the counter, and with a look of indifference on his face, he told you, "That's...accurate." 
A smile returned to your lips. Your skills never failed you, at least not when it came to reading people.
"Do you want to know what else I read?" 
Eris gestured with his hand for you to continue, coming closer to the edge of your chair, you leaned slightly towards him before telling him "That you, Eris Vanserra," you placed a finger on his chest "you will be a better High Lord than that terrible male ever was." 
Eris swallowed the lump in his throat as you picked up your glass again and raised it towards him, making the Heir follow your movement.
With a clink of glasses, you both drained your drinks, and a mischievous smile returned to your lips. "So, are you spending your night here?"
Eris laughed, and as he placed some money on the counter for the night's drinks, he matched your smile, and with amusement in his voice, he asked you, "Why? Is that an invitation?" 
You added the same tone of amusement to your voice when you answered, "Maybe." 
You thanked the Mother that your aunt was working the night shift at the clinic and would only return in the morning. Otherwise, this would be embarrassing - for her, at least. 
You walked up the stairs towards your bedroom with the male behind you. 
Upon entering your bedroom, Eris looked around, noticing that it was small but cozy.
A bed was placed in the corner with a wide window behind it, a bookshelf full of books on healing and romance novels was at the foot of the bed with an puff in front of it against the wall.
Some paintings decorated the walls, several faelights lit up the small bedroom, and a desk was on the wall opposite the bed with a mirror on its side. 
What also didn't go unnoticed by Eris was the pile of parchments you had on your desk.
"What's all this?" He asked as he pointed to it.
Your eyes followed his finger, and you noticed  that the pile was now higher than yesterday - 'Madja must have added the ones that arrived this morning', you thought. 
They were letters from your friends. The ones they've been sending since you left Illyria and have been avoiding them.
Every day, new letters arrive. Letters that you didn't even bother opening, let alone reading, so you collected them on top of your desk. Why? You still didn't know.
There was a morning when a letter signed by Azriel was on the carpet at the entrance of your house - that one went right to the fireplace.  
With a shrug, you simply said "Trash" and picked them all up and placed them in the trash can before leaning against your desk while Eris sat on your bed. 
"You look different." The male's voice filled the bedroom.
"What do you mean?"
It was Eris's turn to shrug before continuing, "You seem more...free." 
You chuckled, and as you ran a hand down your dress, you said, "I feel like that." 
There was a moment of silence, and you watched the Heir as he looked at one of the paintings next to your bed.
Your eyes fell on his body again, and with a thought coming to your mind, a feline look and smile took over your face. 
Noticing the way you were looking at him, Eris leaned on his forearms and shot you a bold smile. "What is that little head of yours thinking about?"
You laughed at his words, and as you approached him, you rested your hands on his thighs. "I have a question."
His smile grew even wider, and one of his eyebrows rose, and you took that gesture as your cue to continue.
Your hands moved to his chest as you straddled his hips, "I want to know if what everyone says is true."
He placed his hands on your thighs and, in a whisper, asked, "What is true?" 
You leaned into his chest and as you brushed aside his hair with your hand, your lips hovered over his ear "That the Autumn males have fire in their veins and they also fuck like it." 
Eris's body tensed beneath yours at your words, turning his smile into mischief, and the smell of arousal began to fill the small bedroom. 
"It's true." Eris straightened up, taking you with him and pushed your hair behind your shoulders.
You intertwined your fingers in his fiery hair, and still in a low voice, you said, "I'm afraid I'm going to need proof," earning a few chuckles from him.
With a kiss on his neck and then another on his shoulder, you whispered, "Why don't you show me?"
Eris giggled, and with his hands now on your waist, he murmured, "As you wish, my Lady." Before connecting his lips with yours. 
And so he did. 
Several knocks on the front door woke you up the next morning. 
You let out several curse words as you went down the stairs only in underwear while you tried to button the white shirt that you stole from the male who was still sleeping in your bed. 
You only had time to button the last three buttons of the shirt before you reached the door and turned the handle to open it.
"Oh, for God's sake," you ran a hand over your face before crossing your arms and leaning against the door. "What are you doing here?" 
The High Lord of the Night Court was at your doorstep dressed in his usual black suit with his hands in his pockets.
"Good morning to you too." Rhys said with a look of indifference at your choice of clothing to open the door. 
 "What are you doing here?" You asked the question again. 
"You missed yesterday's meeting, and as you haven't answered any of our letters, I decided that perhaps it would be better to pay you a personal visit." He finished with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. 
You ran a hand through your hair again before giving him an irritated look. "And you decided to come..." You stretched back to see the clock on the living room table "at seven in the morning?" 
"I went to the clinic, and you weren't there."
"Today is my day off." 
He cleared his throat, ignoring the fact that your bra was showing, "Why didn't you go yesterday?"
"I've been busy." It was your only answer.
Rhys was about to speak again when someone's footsteps coming down the stairs reached both your ears. 
"Do you have guests?" 
"She does. And he's really annoyed that you made her get out of bed at this hour." Eris said as he stood right behind you in just his boxers. 
One of his hands went to your shoulder and the other to the door. “Good morning, Rhysand.” He said with a smile.
"Eris." Rhysand replied with an expression of indifference, but you knew that deep down, he was surprised to see him with you.
Silence hung in the air as the two males looked at each other and you looked between them.  
The High Lord broke the silence without taking his eyes of the Autumn Heir. "What is he doing here?"
With a shrug and an air of amusement, you replied, "Eris wanted to see Velaris."  
A laugh sounded behind you, and you joined him, and when you noticed the frustrated look of the male in front of you, you couldn't help but ask, "You don't like the view?"
"I can't say I do." Rhysand answered with his eyes now meeting yours.
"Well, that's a shame. Maybe next time, think about letting me know you're coming before you show up at my door at seven in the morning." And with a fake smile dancing on your lips, you closed the door in his face. 
-
Madja continued to look at you from moment to moment, trying to understand you as she has been doing in the last few days without success.
You were working at the counter, updating patient charts, and you seemed so normal. It seemed like everything was fine.
But Madja knew it was just an illusion.
The atmosphere between you was now stranger after her shift ended early, and she found you with a male on the living room couch a few days ago. Not just a male but the Heir of Autumn.
You laughed at the situation while she didn't think it was that funny. In fact, she thought it was shocking, considering this had never happened before. 
Her worry grew with each passing day. 
It was only when a letter from Rhysand arrived at the clinic that morning informing that you were to appear at the Townhouse for a meeting in the afternoon that the old female's heart relaxed for a moment. 
The High Lord also took the time to explain in the letter that if you didn't show up this time, he himself would pick you up and carry you on his shoulder if necessary as this meeting was not optional. 
When you finished reading, you huffed and muttered a small "I'd like to see you try" before crumpling up the piece of parchment and throwing it in the trash can. 
You kept yourself busy at the clinic, and when the time for the meeting approached, you didn't bother finishing your work and going.
You simply continued doing your job and about twenty minutes later, when you returned to the counter, your eyes met violet ones. 
The High Lord was now in front of you and with your biggest smile of innocence, you asked him "Are you here for an appointment? Or maybe you came to pick up some medicine?"  
Rhysand faked a smile at your sarcastic comment - apparently you made a lot of those now. 
"Where is your red-haired lover?" 
You looked down, and started looking in your pants pockets and when you finished, you met his violet eyes again before saying "Not in here." 
The male sighed loudly and in a deep but calm voice said to you "The meeting started twenty minutes ago."
"I know," you said without ever breaking eye contact.
"And can you explain to me why I had to come here?"
With a hand gesturing around the waiting room where multiple patients were, you replied "As you can see I've been very busy. A lot of people don't have the choice to spend the day sitting around doing nothing." You finished by resting your head on your hands, which were on top of the counter. 
Rhys furrowed his eyebrows. Since when did you talk to someone like that?
At his confused look, you let out a dry laugh and, continued "I have no interest in going to the meeting, so I'm sorry you wasted your time in coming here, Rhysand."  
"Rhysand?" He asked dumbfounded as he saw you walk away from the counter and grab the next patient's chart before making your way to where a old female was seated.
He wasted no time in following you "Since when do you call me by my full name?" 
You were quick to mutter "Since you came here to be a pain in my ass" in response. 
And this was enough of a reality check to make the male stop in his tracks. Rhys had received a letter from your aunt a few days ago informing him that you were different but he discard it since the events of that night were still recent. 
But now that he allowed himself to really look at you - he saw all the signs. Not only in the way you were acting but also in your clothes.
You were always a warm and happy person and you reflected that in the clothes you wore with light and vivid colors. 
Normally you always wore dresses or a skirt with a top as the days at the clinic required you to walk from one side to the other and that way you were more comfortable as you had explained once when Cassian commented that you always looked like a princess. 
But now? Now it seemed like the princess had been replaced by an evil queen.
Leather pants covered your legs while a black strappy top was on your torso tucked into your pants and held up by a belt with silver details around your waist.
Black high heels, eyeliner on your eyes and red lipstick on your lips completed the outfit.
You looked like a completely different person. 
'What the hell happened?' The question echoed through his mind before Rhys gently grabbed your arm and turned you around.
He decided at that moment that this could (and would) be talked about later, the important thing now was getting you to the meeting. 
"Y/N, we have a meeting to attend. Let's go."
"I already told you that-"
Before you could finish, Rhys took the patient chart from your hands and handed it to a dark-haired healer that was passing by before crouching down and lifting you onto his shoulder with one hand still gripping your arm while the other reached around your legs to hold you. 
"Rhysand! Are you kidding me?" You said and started swearing as you hit his back with your free hand.
On your way out, both of you passed by Madja and Rhys assured her that he would bring you back home in a few hours.
The old healer felt more at ease knowing that you would be safe with your friends and despite the worry that filled her heart, she couldn't help but let out a chuckle at the sight of you on the High Lord's shoulder. 
Maybe this was exactly what you needed - a night out with your friends.
Hope replaced some of the worry that she had been carrying these last few days, that after tonight, you would come back happier.
You would come back as the Y/N she knew.
-
"Seriously, Rhysand? Are you going to carry me like this the whole way?" You asked with annoyance in your voice.
"Yes." A hint of embarrassment crossed the male's face at the use of his full name. 
Several curses were muttered in a low voice as the eyes of the citizens of Velaris focused on you and the male who carried you, one of your arms still trapped in his hand. 
Some citizens looked curious while others laughed, but they all whispered about the reason for such a view. 
"Rhysand, people are looking." You mumble with a pat on his back.
"I know," were his words as he sent smiles and slight waves in the direction of his citizens, as if this were some kind of show - one he was enjoying too much for your taste.
Using his daemati powers, Rhysand sent a message to his family - a message warning them to prepare themselves.
"Well, this is a new view." You heard Cassian's voice when you and Rhys finally entered the Townhouse's living room.
Rhys stopped in front of the couches where his family sat, some of them with drinks in their hands, "Sorry it took so long. I had to walk." 
A tap on Rhys' back sounded through the room followed by a small murmur of "Prick" coming from you. 
"Hey" Rhys tried to scold you at the same time you said "Does my ass look good from back there?"
Rhys sighed loudly, earning a few chuckles from the people in front of him.
They had been talking about Rhys's warning before you arrived but they couldn't deny that your actions were funny despite the situation. 
"Was this really necessary, Rhys?" Feyre asked with a small smile gracing her lips.
"Believe me, it was." Rhys began to gently place you on the ground before rising to his full height again and placing his hands in his pockets. 
You turned to face the rest of your friends and managed to catch the surprise that crossed their eyes when they saw you in your new outfit.
"Hello." You greeted them with a slight nod. 
"You're late, girl. Did you lose track of time?" Amren asked you while drinking from her glass of wine.
"No, I just didn't want to come." Was your response before grabbing the glass of whiskey that Cassian was passing to Rhys and sitting on the couch between Nesta and Elain. 
Nesta turned towards you and said softly, "I've been trying to talk to you these last few days." 
"I've been busy." You said without looking her in the eye.
Nesta furrowed her eyebrows at your behavior. 
She had received Rhys's warning just like the others but she really thought things would be different with her.
That even though you were different with the others, you wouldn't be with her and that she would be the person to go through you, just like you did for her a year ago. 
When you saw Nesta opening her mouth with the intention of speaking again, you were quick to cut her off "So are we going to start this meeting or not? Since I was dragged here like a sack of potatoes." You mumbled the last part.
The High Lord cleared his throat before beginning "I had a meeting with Eris the other day. Apparently Beron allied himself with the human queen Briallyn who in turn allied herself with Koschei." 
"We need to know Beron's plans are with this new alliance and that's exactly what Eris is doing. I'm going to meet with him again in two days and that's where you come in, Y/N."
At the mention of your name, you looked at the male who was already looking at you. With a raise of your eyebrows, he continued "I need you to come with me to the meeting and read Eris. I need to know if he is being honest or not." 
You chuckled "Why would he lie?" 
"He has lied before." Azriel spoke for the first time since your arrival.
You looked at him with a cold look, and everyone else could have sworn that the temperature in the room dropped when your colorless eyes met his.
"So have you." You didn't hesitate to respond. You saw him flinch and stared at each other for a few more seconds before he looked away and you continued "So has everyone else in this room. Except Elain of course. Perfect, sweet and innocent Elain would never do that."  
You looked at the female with a fake smile and it was at that moment that you realized what was in front of you.
Azriel and Elain sitting on different sofas far from each other without any kind of physical or visual contact.
As you exchanged glances between the two, a smile began to form on your lips at the realization. 
Lifting a finger you gestured between the two of them before trying to express your curiosity "What's wrong with the love birds?"  
When no one responded, it didn't take long for you to speak again. "Trouble in paradise? Oh, wait. I know. You finally remembered Lucien."  You finished with a laugh. 
You saw Azriel's jaw throbbing in frustration and as you were really enjoying this new view, you decided to continue.
You moved closer to Elain and placed your arm around her shoulders before telling her loud enough for everyone to hear, "In my opinion, you should choose Lucien. You know that rumor that Autumn males have fire in their veins and also fuck like it?"  
You heard Rhysand swear in the background, giving you a new smile and encouraging you to continue. "Well, it's true. Eris proved that to me the other night."  You finished with a wink in her direction. 
"Y/N." Rhysand called you out with his High Lord voice. 
"What? It's the truth," you laughed and started to get up to leave.
Upon seeing you get up, Feyre was quick to gently grab your wrist and turn you towards her, she held your hand with both of her hands and said calmly "Did you receive our letters?"
You looked at your joined hands before answering her "I did."
With a slight nod, she asked again "Did you read them?" 
You looked at her and when you saw your friend's face, you let your guard down for a second and tried to read her emotions instinctively.
But then a movement in the corner of your eye caught your attention. 
Azriel was filling his glass and in sight of the male, you remembered why you did what you did to protect yourself.
For that same reason, you moved away from her touch and with a cold voice you gave her the answer she didn't want to hear.
"No. In fact, I throw them away. With the exception of your letter, Azriel," you turned to the male who froze in his place with your voice addressing him, "I burned yours." 
And with that you started to make your way to the front door with Rhysand behind you to take you home, just like he had told your aunt, leaving your friends shocked without knowing what to say about this new version of you. 
Cassian followed you to the door and stopped you before you could open it. "You never came back to the House of Wind."
Upon meeting the General's eyes, after your interaction with Feyre, you realized for the first time that where affection and love for your friends used to be was now empty. 
"I moved out. I'm living with my aunt again." A shrug accompanied your response. 
"Why?" He asked you. 
The truth is that you felt embarrassed. 
Embarrassed about that night.
Embarrassed that you cried in front of your aunt and your friends.
Embarrassed that you fell in love with a male who had no interest in you.
Embarrassed that you let a male make you feel this way, that you gave him so much power over your emotions.
Embarrassed by how weak you felt. 
But not anymore.
Now you feel nothing.
And that's exactly how you wanted it. 
You didn't bother to answer him before turning your back on him and disappearing into the darkness of the night with Rhys by your side.
-
The office door opened softly letting the light of the faelights fill the hallway. 
Feyre slipped inside before spotting her mate standing in front of the desk with a book that by the looks of it must be very old as he inspected the pages.
"What is that?" Feyre's voice echoed through the silent office, making her mate's violet eyes meet her light blue ones.
"It's a book about rare powers, it has several chapters about empaths. I borrowed it from Helion after Y/N came to the house." He explained with his eyes returning to the yellow pages.
Feyre laughed lightly as she recalled how her friend had arrived at the residence. "You mean when you had to carry her here?"
Rhys tried to laugh but a weak smile was all he could muster. The small gesture did not go unnoticed by the High Lady, nor did the concern on the male's face.
"You're worried about her, aren't you?"
With a long sigh, Rhys stood up to his full height and faced his wife, "Very. Something happened to her and we don't know what," as he crossed his arms over his chest, he leaned against the wall before continuing "She's different. She's insensitive and arrogant. That's not our Y/N."
The last sentence made Feyre's heart tighten a little - she felt it too. They all did and they all missed their friend. 
"Did you notice the way she looked at Azriel?" Feyre asked, when she saw how you looked at the male, she thanked to the Mother that she wasn't the one on the receiving end of it "It was like she never felt anything for him, like she hated him. It was scary actually."
Rhys's eyes widened as the realization made its way through his mind. "Like she didn't feel..." he muttered softly and approached the book again.
Confused, the female approached the desk trying to figure out what Rhys had just realized, as he started flipping through the pages faster and faster.
Feyre was surprised the pages didn't tear considering how old they were and how quickly they were being flipped through. 
"Rhys?" 
The High Lord stopped at a page and after reading it and rereading it several times, Feyre heard his heart starting to race.
Very slowly, Rhys raised his head to meet his mate's eyes and with a low voice he finally revealed the reason for his reaction. "She turned them off."
"What?" 
His heart started to beat even faster "Her emotions. She turned them off," Rhys ran a hand through his hair making it even more uneven, "Y/N turned off her emotions."
Shock began to course through the High Lady's body and she didn't hide it when she was invaded by it. "Is that possible?"
At her question, Rhys turned the book towards her and let her read the information he was still trying to process. Everything started to make sense.
"The way she talks, her clothes and the fact that she doesn't care about anything...all of this because-"
"Because she doesn't feel anything." Rhys finished for her.
As he opened his mouth to speak again, several knocks on the wooden office door interrupted him.
Clearing his voice, Rhys gave the order for the person behind the door to enter. 
It was quite late, with most of their family having gone to their respective rooms a few hours ago, but the couple couldn't hide their surprise when the person knocking on the door turned out to be Nuala.
"Nuala? Is everything okay?" Feyre asked.
The half-wraith stepped forward and without revealing anything in her features, she replied "I'm not sure, High Lady. I came to inform you that Lady Madja is in the living room and has asked to speak to the Inner Circle immediately."
Even more confused than before, they both questioned why would Madja be here in the middle of the night.
Nuala continued "Lady Madja said it was urgent. It's about Y/N."
At the mention of your name, two sets of chills went down the couple's spines and Rhys was quick to give Nuala a new order "Wake everyone up." 
-
The Inner Circle met in the living room with Madja among them.
Rhys proceeded to explain what he had discovered about you just moments ago.
The book now sat on the old healer's lap as she reread what her niece had done with tears threatening to fall from her eyes.
Madja knew something was wrong with you but she would never have guessed that this was the reason behind it. 
"So, she doesn't feel anything?" Nesta asked. 
If this matter had been about anyone else, she wouldn't have bothered to show her sadness but you weren't anyone else. You were her best friend. Her sister.
"Yes." Feyre said with a lump in her throat.
The room fell silent as everyone tried to process this new information. 
In the corner of the sofa, Cassian blamed himself for not having noticed sooner and not having done anything to help; Elain kept looking around the room with the feeling she was being judged and Azriel was rethinking all the signs you had given him that he hadn't noticed.
"It's no one's fault," Rhys' voice caught their attention but his attention was only on Cassian, "We had no way of knowing this. Without that book we wouldn't even know this was possible."
The General hadn't even realized that his shields were down but his brother's words brought him comfort. 
"What do we do?" Mor spoke for the first time since entering the room "How do we get her back?"
Hurt flashed across Rhys's face and before he could respond, Madja did it for him. "We can't," all eyes turned to her and for the first time since they had known the healer, they saw her cry.
"Y/N is the only one who can turn her emotions back on. It's up to her and only her," with new tears falling down her cheeks she concluded, "There's nothing we can do." 
Feyre placed a hand on the old female's shoulder. "I'm so sorry Madja." 
Madja let out a long sigh and before she could hesitate any further she said "That's not all. There's a reason I came here tonight."
"What do you mean?" Cassian asked.
"Y/N's personality isn't the only thing that has changed."
The room became tense and several breaths were held.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Amren asked and if Madja knew her better, she would have sworn she had just heard a hint of fear in Amren's voice.
"I've been trying to figure out why for several days but this..." she pointed to the book, "this explains everything."
With all eyes focused on her, the old healer begin to explain "A few days ago I put Y/N to treat a boy's knee. She grabbed one of his leg and when she put it down there was a bruise in the same place her hand was. Y/N assumed she just hadn't seen the bruise before but that was because the boy didn't have any. I was the one who sat that boy in the chair and the only thing he had was the wound on his knee and nothing else. I would have noticed the bruise if he had it." 
"What are you trying to say, Madja?" Rhys asked, he could feel that with every word the old female spoke, everyone became more nervous. 
"After the boy," Madja continued, "she attended to a male who had ingested a poisonous plant by mistake. When she used her magic to heal him, he started spitting blood from his mouth and became very pale. Y/N thought that the poison was stronger than she thought but when I came to help the male...I managed to cure him without any problems." 
"Madja, what are-" Nesta tried to ask.
"I think...," Madja ran a hand through her black hair, "I think when Y/N turned off her emotions, I think it affected her powers too. When I saw her trying to heal that male, her powers weren't emitted by a white light like all healers." 
Mor's voice shook as she asked "What was it?"
Madja stared at the blonde female before telling her "Darkness."   
Several curse words passed through the room, increasing the tension that was already in the air.
"I think Y/N gave the boy that bruise and I think when she tried to take the poison out of the male...I think she ended up spreading it." 
"Over the next few days, each time Y/N used her powers to heal the patients...they all got worse. Eventually, I had to put her to work behind the counter so she couldn't hurt anyone else."
This new revelation of your powers only made a bad situation even worse and much, much more dangerous.
It is already quite dangerous for a person not to be able to feel anything as this means that they cannot distinguish right from wrong just as they cannot understand when to stop but to have their powers changed?
Amren set down her glass of wine before speaking "If you think about it it makes sense," she began drawing all the attention to her "When Y/N turned off her emotions, she turned off everything that was a part of her, including her own person."  
"What does this mean?" Nesta asked with fear on her face not only for what this could mean but also for you. 
Azriel was the first to realize with Amren's words being the last piece of the puzzle he needed  "Mother help us. Madja, you're not trying to say that Y/N is now a..."
The male couldn't find the strength to finish his sentence but it wasn't long before Cassian continued where he left.
"A what?" He asked, eyes bouncing between his brother and the healer. "She's a what?" 
With a long sigh, Madja said "Y/N is no longer a healer."
No one was prepared for Madja's next words. They didn't know what to expect when she came to their house in the middle of the night but they never would have thought of this turn of events.
They would never have guessed that their friend's pain was so deep that it would cause this to happen. 
"Y/N is a necromancer." 
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A/n: Thank you for reading!
[Masterlist]
General Taglist: @emryb @fantasyandshit @azrielover @shadowsingercassia @littlelou22 @brieflyclassymortal @lilah-asteria @meul-a @lure-of-writing @pruvii @olive-main @mybestfriendmademe @anuttellaa @mrsjna @lively-potter @meul-a @mrsjna @avajustreads @littlelou22 @talesofadragon @circe143 @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @dark-chaos-314 @tequilya @scoliobean @saltedcoffeescotch @charlotteintumbleland @dark-chaos-314 @agirlwithwifiandalaptop
Taglist Fic: @crazylokonugget @quinzzelx @cumuluscranium @i-am-infinite @rcarbo1 @romantasyreader28 @thegreyjoyed @whyshouldihaveanam3 @sheblogs @amysangel @meher-sumedha @paleidiot @skylarkalchemist @thestartitaness @romanoffslegacy @bookwormysblog @sandramalikstyles-blog
*if you asked to be tagged and you weren't, it's because I couldn't find your blog.
the beautiful dividers belong to @cafekitsune
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verstappen-cult · 8 months ago
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i love ur writing sm🥹🥹 i would love a scenario where y/n is dating max & charles,and she's a somgwriter who often wakes up in the nighttime with lyrics in her mind and has to sneak out of bed to write them down/make voice notes of the songs so she doesnt forget😭😭 maybe sometimes they wake up and they love to listen to her singing but keep it a secret between them so she doesnt feel bad ab waking them accidentally 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶
Max is the first one to wake up when he feels you getting out of bed, being very careful as to not wake them. As always. He pretends to be asleep when he sees you turning around to make sure they’re still sleeping, and Max can’t help the smile that appears on his face.
He lies there, unable to fall back to sleep knowing what you’re doing in the living room.
Charles wakes up when he turns around and doesn’t feel your body next to him. He rubs the sleep from his eyes and snuggles closer to Max, who happily opens his arms for him.
“How long has she been awake?” Charles asks, head resting on his boyfriend’s chest.
“I’ve been hearing her for about ten minutes.” Max answers, closing his eyes and trying to make out your whispered words from across the hall.
“You think she knows?” Charles smiles against Max’s chest when he hears your beautiful voice, followed by a curse when it doesn’t sound right.
Max shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”
They stay silent, barely breathing, when you start signing again. They’re glad that it’s three in the morning and the city is sleeping because it’s possible for them to make a few words of the song. You never let them hear your songs, at least not after they’re finished, so they feel pretty lucky when they witness these kinds of moments.
“Passed down like folk songs, the love lasts so long,” Max smiles. You’re back to writing the song that has become his favorite, even though it is definitely not finished but the words, the way you sing, what you’re trying to tell through those words? Max feels identified. “And I’ve been meaning to… ugh no!” He hears the frustration in your voice and wishes to be there with you to tell you how beautiful the lyrics are.
“You think we should tell her?” Charles looks up at Max, hand caressing his naked chest.
“No, or she’ll stop.” Max leans to place a kiss on Charles forehead.
“I don’t want that,” Charles pouts, closing his eyes to try to fall back to sleep with your voice. “I like listening to her process.”
Max silently agrees. He follows Charles’ example and closes his eyes too, still paying attention to the words falling from your lips.
“And I’ve been meaning to tell you, I think your house is haunted. Your dad is always mad and that must be why,”
Charles hugs his boyfriend tightly and places a soft kiss right above his heart. They both know the meaning of those lyrics, even if you haven’t told them anything yet.
“And I think you should come live with me and we can be pirates. Then you won’t have to cry, or hide in the closet.”
Those are the last words they hear before falling asleep.
They don’t know at what time you went back to bed, but the next morning you’re sound asleep, snoring peacefully, snuggled between them. The only proof of your little escapade is your bulging notebook of lyrics on the coffee table and a blanket on the couch.
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vrystalius · 2 months ago
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Hello so i have been craving angst then fluff so can you write scenarios with the uppermoons x reader, after a huge argument that ended up with the reader walking away from the fight then locking herself in their shared bedroom,and when they come back after duties they find out that she cried herself to sleep with her tear stained and red cheeks, she wakes up and they make up then cuddle (The argument is huge but they are both at fault and they are both right it's just different point of view since they are demons and she is a human).
Arguments with the Upper moons
You and your s/o had a huge argument wich caused you to leave and later cry yourself to sleep. How will they react?
Pairing: Kokushibo, Douma, Akaza, Gyutaro x reader
(Gyutaro doing his usual scratching on himself in his part, toxic-ish relationship in his part as well, angst in every part)
Kokushibo
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Your arguments are mostly about how emotionally unavailable he is and how much Kokushibo refuses to speak about his feelings. He never elaborates on what he is thinking right now or what he truly thinks of you, this relationship and his feelings for you. You know that Kokushibo is mediating when he is not training, meaning he has plenty of time to think. Why is he never sharing his feelings? You always voice out loud how much you appreciate and love your husband, but he never tells you the same things. Only occasional dry “I love you’s” and some “I appreciate your presence’s”.
You try to tell Kokushibo about how you want to hear more from him and what he truly thinks of you. Sometimes, you feel like he doesn’t love you at all with the way he acts so coldly around you.
Kokushibo’s voice is stern and condescending while arguing with you. He only states the most obvious things and still doesn’t admit his true feelings towards you. This makes your heart ache even more than before. Seeing the tears form in the corners of your eyes made him scoff quietly.
“Why are you crying now? Did I hurt your “feelings”?”
That last comment made a wave of nausea wash over your whole body. Before you let yourself throw up onto his feet, you quickly rushed into your shared bedroom to hide your crying face.
You ignored Kokushibo’s demands to open up the bedroom door for almost one hour until Muzan finally ordered a meeting with him. Tears continue to stream down your face as you curled up into a small ball below the sheets. Your bed felt eerily empty without your husband beside you, but right now, you don’t want him here. You didn’t know exactly when you fell asleep, but you woke up by cold fingers brushing against your now dry cheeks.
After you opened your eyes, you were met with the sight of Kokushibo kneeling beside you and gently caressing your cheeks. His bottom and upper eyes were closed. It was his unique way to show that he feels safe and relaxed around you. You noticed the soft look in his eyes and the gentleness in his touch.
“I… I should apologise for my words I spoke to you earlier. I did not mean to hurt you in any way.”
Kokushibo’s voice was deep and soothing. You could hear how hesitant he was about speaking like this. He barely ever shows his vulnerable side to you and insists to keep his guard up at all times. That is one of the many things why you two argue so much. He spend the last 500 years to perfect his fighting style and whole being. Even during his human years he forgot his own humanity, but around you, his emotions try to resurface. Your influence and affection make him softer, and in his opinion, weak. He does not want you to see him as weak, but that he is strong, powerful and a perfect being.
“Could you forgive me for acting so harshly? I do truly love you and I’d like to prove it to you.”
Douma
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Douma’s lack of understanding of emotions cause a lot of arguments between you two. He continues to dismiss your feelings as just some silly moods you tend to have and never takes them seriously. Douma is listening to his follower’s woes all day every day, but he does not really pay attention to their words. He mostly zones out and then offers some loose advice based on some words he picked up while they continue to talk and talk and talk. He does the same thing with you.
When you try to tell him that you don’t like it when Douma has his meals in your shared bedroom and leaves behind a bloody mess and even some bodyparts. It’s disgusting, especially to you, who is a human. But all he hears is that he should send in a follower to clean your chambers after his meals. This was not the problem you were trying to solve, you were trying to tell him that you don’t like it when Douma eats humans in your bedroom, yet he doesn’t listen.
That isn’t even the most infuriating part. Besides him not listening to your thoughts, he sometimes mocks you for feeling emotional about it. It may be unintentional, but when you start crying during an argument, Douma sometimes giggles at your expression. It’s humiliating how hilarious he finds your crying face and in return it made you incredibly mad at him. Wich also makes him grin.
Yes, Douma may not grasp the concept of emotions, but you wished that he doesn’t dismiss them that easily.
During one of your arguments, you were trying to tell him about how you didn’t like how he disregards your emotions so easily.
“Well, what else am I supposed to do? You’re a silly human after all, your emotions are very entertaining to me!”
After Douma finished his sentence, you slapped your hand across his face as hard as you could. You knew that he will barely even feel it tickle his skin, but you wanted to demonstrate how infuriated you are with him. While your husband was trying to understand what exactly just happened to him, you already stormed off to your shared bedroom and made sure to properly lock the door. Additionally, you opened the blinds all the way and let the sun in to make sure that damn demon stays away from you for the time being. You cannot stand to see his smirking face right now.
You didn’t even notice that you started crying. There was only hoping that Douma didn’t see your tears running down your cheeks, or else he will mock you about those too, just like he does with every other emotion you have.
You fell asleep while watching the sun disappear behind the mountains and with a pillow between your arms. Long after you fell asleep, someone started slipping the pillow out of your arms and sneakily replaced it with their own body. You tried to escape out of Douma’s arms, but his grip was tighter. His face was uncharacteristically and eerily neutral, not showing any emotions right now.
“I don’t really get emotions, you know? They’re always been foreign to me.”
His voice sounded distant and detached. Who is this man that is cuddling you right now? You kept staring at his face while he spoke.
“I never really felt them. They just weren’t there then I was born. I saw them on other people’s faces and had to learn manually what they meant.”
Douma’s cold fingers slowly brushed through your hair as he leaned forward to place a kiss on your forehead. He remained in this position while he continued to speak.
“I’m sorry if I insulted you. I never meant it. You just confuse me with your emotions sometimes, but you also…kind of… make me imagine? I’m not sure. Perhaps I’m trying to talk myself into feeling something, but when you’re around me, I feel something close to happiness. Or whatever that emotion is that I’m feeling.”
His eyes soften up slightly while speaking. You can’t help but smile a little at his words.
“But hey, you stopped resisting my cuddles~ does that mean I’m allowed back into bed? Would you be a sweetheart and close the blinds? You don’t wanna wake up next to a pile of ash, right?”
Akaza
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“Stop worrying” and “toughen up” are things you hear almost every day from Akaza. He hates the weak and any sign of weakness, and since you are a human, weakness and vulnerability is a rather big part of you when you compare yourself to a demon like him. You can’t help but not being able to ignore the look he gives you everytime you either hesitate about something or try to explain your feelings to him. His eyebrows furrow together and his eyes have this look of disdain in them. His jaw clenches and you can see the veins pop out a little. That look alone, intentional or not, makes you shut up quickly.
You never heard him say “I love you” to you before, ever. You tried asking him about it but all that resulted in him coming up with some weak excuse. All you wanted is for Akaza to tell you if he does really love or if he is just staying by your side for his own entertainment or pleasure. You just want him to say “I love you” at least once and admit his feelings to you, but he stubbornly refuses.
Akaza was trying to contain his anger inside him while you were talking about exactly that. His fists were clenched and his eyes were glued to a spot on the floor. Until suddenly, he slammed his fist against the wall, shattering the wood beneath it, making you jump away.
“Why do you have to be so weak? All this crying and fucking feelings, they make you fucking pathetic and weak. I’m trying to protect you and you’re too blind to see it. I’m starting to think that protecting you was a waste of my time after all.”
Those words shattered your heart in an instant. Maybe he was right. Maybe you are just a waste of time to him, he has better things to do after all. He wants to become the strongest demon after all. This is the end of you two, isn’t it? You didn’t want Akaza to see your crying face and think even less of you, if that’s even possible, so you ran away into your bedroom and hid beneath the covers as if those will shield you from him and the rest of the world around you.
Tears ran down your face silently while you slowly fell asleep, but you woke up rapidly when you felt strong arms wrap incredibly tight around you. Your heart almost stopped in fear when you felt the familiar aura tightly pressing up against you, but you couldn’t help but begin to melt into his arms.
Akaza never was good with words. The words he uses are mostly intentionally and unintentionally used go hurt others, wich includes you. You felt how he buried his face into your neck and silently savoured your smell. His rough palms were gently rubbing up and down your waist, almost a little desperate to feel your skin again. He lifted his face from your neck and rested it right beside your head. His thick fingers carefully brushed through your hair.
“I should say it. You deserve it.”
You turned your head over to face him. You noticed freshly healed skin on his knuckles and all over his hands, leaving little room to guess what exactly he was doing while you slept. A nervous frown started appeared on his face. Akaza took a very deep breath before you listened to his shaky voice.
“I like you. A-A lot. Lots. Well, I-I really… uhm… Love you…I love you.”
Gyutaro
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He always has been jealous, and always will be. Gyutato fears that you are going to leave him at any time and any day. That makes him incredibly clingy and protective of you and he refuses to leave your side, ever. He follows you around everywhere and tries to hover around you at all possible times. You had to convince that demon that you are perfectly capable to use the bathroom on your own without him needing yo stand right beside you. But after you finished up and left, you found Gyutaro crouched down beside the bathroom door, waiting and listening in case something somehow happens to you.
It’s incredibly tiring to have to be so careful around him. You fear that if you stray too far from him or disappear from his sight for too long that Gyutaro might start either slashing humans out of frustration or start scratching himself again. It’s mentally extremely weighing onto you. You tried to tell Daki about her brother and how stressed he’s making you feel, but she obviously takes Gyutaro’s side and shifts the issue back onto you.
“Well have you ever considered that my brother is just being very loving, hm? You better appreciate it you ungrateful human.”
Daki’s words did certainly not help you feel any better. She of course told her brother about you confiding in her, wich made Gyutaro almost seethe in jealousy and anger. That same night, you two had the worst argument yet.
You tried to tell him how suffocating he is while he is accusing you of not loving such a like creature like him. Your attempts at telling him how much you actually love and cherish him failed.
"No matter what you say or do, I-I’ll never be good enough for you...! You’re just pr-pretending to love me because you feel sorry for me…Deep down, you think I’m ugly, dirty and disgusting…”
The gut-wrenching sound of Gyutaro scratching his own skin open filled the silence as you stared at him. Gods, you had enough. You’re too exhausted to fight against his insecurities right now, so instead of continuing this useless argument, you stormed off into your private bedroom. After turning your back to him, you heard his nails tear through his own flesh and bones incredibly slowly and agonisingly.
You laid down on top of your large bed and faced away from the door, trying not to think about his words or the sound of Gyutaro’s blood gushing out of his flesh wounds. You were so concentrated on trying to think about anything else that you didn’t notice how you slipped into a deep slumber. You only woke up to the sound of bones cracking and crushing together.
Lifting your head, you scanned the space on the bed beside you. Empty. As you sat upright, you managed to glance over the edge of the bed, spotting Gyutaro being curled together on the floor. He looked like a very unnaturally bend puppy that wasn’t allowed to sleep on the bed. After calling out to him, he silently lifted his head to look at you.
Even looking at him caused a wave of nausea and guilt wash over you. Not a single inch of his skin was left unharmed by his own doing, and he seemingly refused to let them heal. His blood started to soak the carpet beneath him. Gyutaro slowly started to sit back upright, his spine cracking and breaking.
“Mh… mrrm.. am I-I allowed.. to la-lay beside you?”
💠
This took me multiple days to write so it may feel a little off. I loved writing this so much!! I always read the comments and reblogs, so don’t be shy to leave any! I appreciate every single one of you and the love you leave behind on my posts <3 I am currently working through my inbox, so expect more asks to be published over the week.
Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!
Take care of yourselves <33
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joostsblog · 5 months ago
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joost klein x fem!reader who has a thing for his hands? loving when his hands wander all around her body.. fingering her during a pre-party then dragging her to hus room to finish the poor girl off both of them competing in eurovision
maybe joost even whispering things in her ear.. lots of neck kisses and reader wakes up in the morning neck, thighs, collarbones basically her whole body having hickeys ☺️
tysm if u do this
here you go :)
the one about his hands and also waking up covered in hickeys ~ joost klein smut
My masterlist here ✨💌
Pairing: Joost Klein x fem!eurovision contestant!reader
Description: Only fantasising about Joost's hands just isn't enough. You need to get the fellow eurovision contestant to actually touch you where you need to be touched.
Word Count: 3.1k
A/N: in this version of eurovision no drama is happening, no dq etc, everything is just nice ❣️ i'm leaving for vacation tomorrow (to the netherlands actually lmao) so i probably won't be able to write anything for two week, i'm sorry babes :( filling up my inbox with requests, thoughts, feedback etc is still encouraged tho 💌
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, SMUT, nsfw, fingering (f receiving), protected sex, piv, swearing, consumption of cigarettes, not proofread
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His hands were the first thing you noticed about the man. The way he held out his hand in front of you, greeting you with a handshake (which you thought was a bit odd). His hand felt firm yet gentle in yours and you couldn't help but admire the digits tattooed on his fingers.
"Nice to meet you," he had smiled at you and your heart had fluttered just a bit.
Your quick infatuation with Joost and his hands really was poorly timed. You were at eurovision to represent your country and you were supposed to be on your best behaviour. Absolutely no distractions allowed. Too bad thoughts of the blonde dutch man doing ungodly things to you kept intruding into your mind.
So you really shouldn't be spending as much time with him as you did. Always finding an excuse to talk to him in between rehearsals or at breakfast (your favourite because it meant you saw Joost's messy hair in the morning and maybe sometimes you imagined your hands were the ones responsible for that). Your vocal coach would be furious with you if she found out that you had been starting to sneak off with Joost whenever he went for a smoke. Just talking and laughing with him as you watched him smoke. Always paying close attention to those hands when he lifted one of them to his mouth to take a drag in between sentences.
"I think I might be a bad influence on you," he said. "You need to take care of your pretty voice," he mused with a smirk and you swear you caught him eyeing you up and down.
"Don't worry about me, I'm already corrupted," you joked.
"Really, how so?" Joost asked with a grin.
You watched as Joost took another drag, his cigarette delicately placed between his fingers. Oh, what those hands could be capable of doing to you. You couldn't help but let your thoughts wander off again. You wondered how his hands would feel on your hips if you were sat on his lap, his hands guiding you to grind against him. How his hands would feel in your hair, pulling on it while his mouth would kiss along your neck. How his hands would on your throat while he would thrust into you. How his fingers would feel slowly pumping inside of you, hitting all the right spots.
Joost raised an eyebrow when he noticed your absent state.
"You will have to find out," you said smirking.
"Mysterious, I like it," Joost said and finished off his cigarette. "After you," he said after he opened the door. You walked past Joost and your hands lightly brushed against Joost's. Shivers on down your spine.
You decided that maybe the only solution to your problem was to actually get into Joost's pants. Because then all your thoughts and fantasies about the man wouldn't have to plague your mind anymore when they would become reality. So you decided you would do anything in your power to achieve your goal.
~
You were sitting across Joost in a waiting area. He was handsomely dressed in that black jacket with the dark europe tie and his glasses with the thick brims. His fingers were nervously playing with the cord of his headphones. He looked ravishing. You crossed your legs which caused your thighs to be on full display with the short skirt you were wearing. You hoped Joost would notice and maybe also think about how his hands would feel so good on your thighs (and other places also).
"Excited for tonight?" you asked Joost.
"Huh?" he asked confused.
"The semifinals preparty," you reminded him.
"Oh, yeah," he nodded as he remembered. "Are you gonna be there?" he asked.
"Only if you're there," you said and Joost smiled.
"Then I'll be there, anything for you," he said.
"Anything?" you asked cheekily. Joost narrowed his eyes at you and gave you a grin.
"You will have to find out."
~
Joost's eyes immediately landed on you as you saw him enter the party. You were swaying your hips to the beat, hands up in the air as you enjoyed yourself on the dancefloor. You grinned at Joost and he didn't need to be told twice as he made his way over to you. You wrapped your arms around Joost's neck to hug him hello, still swaying to the music. Instead of hugging you, Joost put his hands on your hips and smiled at you as he probably assumed you wanted to dance with him. You didn't complain. The thin fabric of your skirt didn't serve much as a barrier between your skin and Joost's grip and still you wished the skirt was gone. Your fingertips cautiously dipped into the hair at the nape of Joost's neck and Joost responded by pulling you closer to him. It still wasn't close enough. Joost leaned down to whisper into your ear.
"You look very nice," his breath ghosted over the skin on your neck and your breath hitched.
"You do too," you said and it was almost sweet. You needed to get him out of here as fast as possible. "You wanna go for a smoke?" you proposed.
"I don't have any cigs left," Joost said.
"I think I saw a cigarette vending machine in the lady's restroom," you said and took Joost's hand in yours to lead him through the crowd. As you reached the door to the restroom you could feel Joost hesitating. "Don't worry, there's no one inside," you said and scurried through the door frame. The door closed behind Joost and the music was reduced to some sounds in the distance. Beside the vanity was the vending machine you had spoken of.
"This is a condom vending machine," Joost stated.
"Oh," you giggled. You took out a euro from your purse and proceeded to buy one condom. "Well," you said as you took the condom from the slot. "There's always other vices you could indulge in instead," you smirked at him.
"What are you proposing?" Joost asked, his hand leaning against the wall beside you.
"What does it sound like I'm proposing?" you looked up at him, condom in hand.
Joost took the condom from your fingers and put it in his pocket before he leaned down and his lips crashed into yours. His right hand held the back of your head, the other grabbed you by your hips. Your lips hungrily moved in sync with each other before they opened and your tongues met. Your arms wrapped around Joost to pull his body closer to yours. You wanted him to feel your breasts pressed against his chest. You sighed into the kiss as you could tell that this kiss alone wouldn't satiate either of you. You blindly reached for the door of one of the stalls and pushed it open before you both stumbled into it.
You broke off the kiss briefly to lock the door of the stall, Joost's mouth eagerly kissing along your neck instead. His hands were resting on your waist, slowly pushing up the fabric of your top to reveal your stomach. You were pressed against the wall of the bathroom stall, not an inch left between you. Joost's lips found yours again. You opened your legs slightly so Joost's leg could slip in between yours. His right hand trailed down your hip until it rested on your upper thigh. You couldn't stop yourself from grinding your hip against Joost's thigh as vivid images of him fucking into you flickered through your mind. You moaned against Joost's lips as you desperately needed to make your wants known.
"I- I- I need," you tried to get out in between kisses. "I need you."
"You got me," Joost murmured against your skin as he kissed down your neck again. "Don't worry, m’en meisje."
His hand ghosted up your thigh and pushed up the hem of your skirt. Your arousal was hot with anticipation. As his hand reached your panties his fingers softly grazed over the fabric right where your clit was. Your hips bucked lightly and Joost grinned against the skin of your neck.
"So eager," Joost tutted.
His fingers carefully pushed your panties to the side until his fingers could dip into your folds. Your head fell back and you bit into your lip to stifle any moans you otherwise would have let out if you two were in private.
Your folds were slick with arousal eliminating any friction as Joost's fingers started circling your clit.
"You're so wet for me," Joost whispered against your ear. Your hands were desperately grabbing onto his shoulders, keeping yourself upright as your knees buckled. Joost's other hand was resting by your side, keeping you close to him. "So ready for me," he said, voice as soft as ever.
Joost stopped circling your clit and you almost let out a groan in frustration. His fingers inched closer to your entrance until they slipped inside of you. Your mouth slacked open, eyes tightly squeezed shut and Joost's hand caressing your side. Your nails dug into Joost's skin as his fingers slowly pumped in and out of you.
"You feel so good," Joost murmured against your ear. "I bet you would feel so good around my cock." You let out a loud moan as his words triggered your vivid fantasy. "Would you like that?" Joost grinned against your skin. "Me fucking you properly?"
"God, Joost," you could only whimper.
"God, you're barely holding it together," Joost whispered. "You're so good for me," he said as he continued pumping his fingers in and out of you.
Suddenly you could hear the restroom door fling open and the voices of two women enter. Joost swiftly pressed his hand on top of your mouth but still continued moving his fingers inside of you. Your mind didn't even register what the voices outside the bathroom stall were talking about as all your mind was occupied with was Joost. Your body was trembling and you did everything in your power to keep yourself from orgasming right then and there as you knew that you would not be able to keep quiet through it. Joost pressed gentle kisses to the skin on your neck as your heavy breathing only intensified.
A few moments later the door closed and you were alone again. Just as you were about to allow yourself to climax Joost withdrew his fingers from you, leaving you trembling uncontrollably.
"Pleaseplease, Joost please," you could only press out. Joost's hand caressed your side and his lips trailed along your neck.
"Sshhh, mijn lieverd," Joost shushed, slowly brushing your hair behind your ear. "I need you to be a little bit more patient," he looked at you fondly. "I'm gonna take you back to my room and we're gonna do this properly." You let out a frustrated groan. You could feel your slick arousal almost dripping down your legs. Joost smoothed down your skirt and top (and his own pants that hid his raging boner) and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. "Come on," Joost said with a grin, his hand held out for you to take as you still stood there dumbfounded.
Reluctantly you took Joost's hand and let yourself be led outside the restroom. You didn't take too many steps before you noticed Mona, one of the stylists on your delegation come up to you.
"(Y/N)!" she hugged you. "How are you?" Mona asked and you just stared at her blankly for a few seconds.
"Yeah, I'm good," you managed to sound out. Mona raised her eyebrows amused.
"Are you drunk? I thought they didn't serve alcohol here," she laughed. Joost looked at you with a knowing smirk.
"Aaaww, she's just a little exhausted," Joost saved you and wrapped his arm around your shoulders playfully. "I was just gonna walk her to her room."
"Oh yeah, she probably just needs some rest," Mona agreed. "We need her on her best game tomorrow," she joked and squeezed your shoulder lightly. "See you tomorrow!"
"See you," you smiled weakly as Mona walked away. Joost giggled beside you. "Shut up," you said and rammed your elbow into his ribs.
"Alright, let's get out of here."
Joost could barely close the hotel room door behind him before your lips were attacking each other again. Hands quickly roaming each other's bodies, grabbing onto any piece of clothing you could get a hold of to get rid of it. Joost's t-shirt was the first to go, swiftly followed by your top and bra. Your fingers fiddled with Joost's belt as the back of your knees hit the bed and you fell on it. You lay on top of it, only your short skirt covering you. Joost grinned down at you, observing your body spread out in front of him as he unbuckled his belt and took off his pants before he joined you on the bed.
You anticipated his lips to press onto yours again but instead, they found your neck again. His hands held onto your waist as you wrapped your arms around his neck and buried them in his hair, softly massaging his scalp. As Joost situationed himself in between your legs you could feel his hard-on press against your vulva through the fabric of your clothes. You let out a moan and Joost hummed approvingly against your skin as you could finally voice your lust for him.
Joost's mouth slowly moved down to your collarbones, alternating between peppering your skin with kisses and sucking at it. His fingers found the hem of your skirt and as he kissed along down your body he pulled the skirt down as well until you were only left in your panties. Your chest was heaving with how heavy your breathing was, anticipating Joost's next move. You let out a groan as his lips connected with the skin of your inner thighs.
"Stop being such a tease," you groaned and Joost grinned against your skin. Joost's fingers hooked in your panties before he finally pulled them down.
"What is it that you want, mijn lieverd?" Joost asked innocently.
"Jesus fucking Christ," you moaned frustrated. "I want you to fuck me finally."
"With pleasure."
Joost got up from the bed and you watched as he got rid of his underwear and you admired his length.
"Hurry," you nagged and Joost rolled his eyes with a soft laugh before he put on the condom you had bought earlier and got back in bed.
"So needy," he tutted, his lips just softly grazing yours. You held onto Joost's shoulders, his hand holding the side of your face before he slowly pushed into you. Your eyes momentarily blacked out as the pleasure spread throughout your body. Joost grunted against your skin also being lost to the pleasure. "So good for me," he praised and you wondered how much longer you would be able to keep it together.
He started slowly moving in and out of you. The slow rhythm, your hands in his hair and his lips pressed to your neck made all of this almost romantic. You wrapped your legs around Joost's hips to help him penetrate into you even deeper. With your hands in his hair, you grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled his head from where he was still kissing your neck until his lips found yours again. You moaned into the messy open-mouthed kiss before you softly pulled his hair again to make him look at you.
"Harder," you begged and Joost grinned at you.
Joost snaked his arm around your body to keep you in place, your bodies almost pressed against each other before he started pounding into you. Your nails dug into the skin on Joost's back as the moans tumbled out of your mouth uncontrollably. With each thrust, you were edging closer to your orgasm as Joost hit all the right spots inside of you. The sounds Joost was letting out of his mouth were heavenly, his grip on you dominant yet caring.
"You feel so good," Joost grunted and the sound of his voice pushed you over the edge.
Your back arched off the bed, your breath hitched and your muscles clenched until the wave of pleasure crashed down over you and you came with a series of obscene moans. As you were still riding out your high you noticed Joost's thrust becoming slopier and his moans louder until he came with stuttering hips and plopped down beside you.
You looked at each other breathing heavily and both let out a soft laugh. Joost lifted his arm to invite you to cuddle up to him. You rested your head on Joost's shoulder, your fingers softly drawing along the lines of Joost's tattoo on the side of his stomach.
"Was this okay?" Joost asked. "Are you okay?"
"Of course," you smiled. "This was perfect."
~
The ringing of your alarm on your phone woke you two up in the morning. Your limbs were entangled with Joost's, his heartbeat steady where your hand was laid on his chest. Joost rubbed his eyes, his hair messy and you never saw him look any cuter.
"What's this?" he complained before you got out of bed to turn off your alarm. As you turned around to face Joost again you noticed his eyes widen in shock. You stopped.
"What's up?" you asked blushing as Joost stared at your naked body. Confused you looked down your body and let out a gasp. "Fuck fuck fuck," you whispered, your hand in front of your lips. "This is bad." You sat down on the edge of the bed and you could feel Joost shift behind you to get closer to you. You looked down at your thighs which were littered in pink and purple hickeys. You desperately rubbed your fingers over them as if doing that could help you get rid of them.
"Oh, liefde," Joost said, his hand cautiously resting on your waist. "I'm so sorry."
"It's fine," you laughed unconvincingly, trying to calm yourself down. Joost's fingers softly grazed your collarbones and you looked down only to discover even more hickeys. "Oh god," you groaned.
"On your neck as well," Joost said meekly.
You put your face into your hands and cursed yourself for having chosen a very revealing stage outfit. "It's fine," you actually laughed this time.
"Are you sure?" Joost looked at you like a puppy who had just been caught breaking an expensive vase.
"Yes," you said and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Nothing some good foundation and an impromptu costume change can fix," you said although you already dreaded what you would have to tell your delegation about those hickeys. You leaned forward to gently kiss Joost's lips. "It was worth it," you said after pulling back and Joost gave you the proudest sweetest smile you had ever seen. Definitely worth it.
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xxlady-lunaxx · 6 months ago
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(DOMESTIC) SANEGIYUU HEADCANONS
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Sanemi is ALWAYS the one cooking
I’m sorry but I can only see Giyuu fucking up scrambled eggs or something. Sanemi cooks (or bakes) like a professional
Giyuu having a bedhead (he’s adorable) and Sanemi waking him up by either:
throwing a pillow on his face
running his hands through his hair and a “good morning, shithead”
One or the other, no in betweens
Sanemi usually does the chores like laundry, cooking, etc (malewife<33)
Giyuu can do things if given clear instructions tho
Hmm showering together just as a habit
If either of them were mad at the other (or they js fought) before bed, they’ll probably distance themself on the futon
When they wake up they’re always cuddling though
ouugh yes they share a bed
(it was so awkward at first like “ok… i’ll have this side” but then they got comfy and steal each other’s pillows (so romantic smh))
Sanemi definitely holds a longer grudge
Giyuu gets upset if he gets ignore too long, though, and Sanemi eventually caves
Why do I feel like Sanemi would just take pictures or videos of Giyuu randomly
When he’s asleep, when he’s just woken up, when he’s eating, doesn’t matter
Because Sanemi’s in charge of meals usually, Giyuu only gets salmon daikon once a week (which is already a lot as is, but he begs Sanemi for it so…)
Sanemi used to braid/put up his siblings hair a lot and when the two are cuddling, sometimes he makes little braids in Giyuu’s hair, or pulls it up in a high ponytail (often Giyuu wakes up with braids and his hair gets a lil wavy when he takes it out later)
Giyuu’s the baby in the relationship you cant change my mind. He’s the little spoon; he’s being carried because he’s tired; he’s given breakfast in bed.
Sanemi honestly doesn’t mind (he’s used to this) but likes teasing Giyuu about it
Giyuu has a bow of Tsutako’s (he stole a spare) and wears it to formal places always. (job interview? bow. prom? bow. work? bow.)
Sometimes Giyuu helps Sanemi hang up the laundry but they somehow end up hugging always (Giyuu goes on the other side of the clothing line and ThEIr lEgS juST mOVed By THemSElf)
On weekends, when there’s nothing to do, Sanemi will just scroll through his phone and Giyuu watching TV
Giyuu can NEVER not fall asleep during a movie though. depends on the day but he’ll either fall asleep 20 mins in or half way through
Sanemi doesn’t really watch movies and just slowly turns down the volume then off to not startle him awake
I can see Sanemi just volunteering to babysit for their friends (for free<3) and just having a box full of children’s toys for when they come over
Giyuu once overfed a baby to near sickness (“I thought her grabby hands were for more :(“ - “YOU IDIOT, SHE WAS TRYING TO PUSH AWAY THE BOTTLE!!”) and was thereafter forbidden to care for the children (unless they were older than, like, 12)
After a stressful day at work, Giyuu likes flopping down on the couch and having Sanemi run his hands through his hair and hum a bit, maybe small talk
I think Giyuu is actually an open book and horrible at hiding his emotions (like canonically as a child he was like that, only the deaths changed him sooo) whilst Sanemi is better at hiding things
But like after years of living with Sanemi/js being with him, Giyuu has been able to see small telltales
When he’s lying, Sanemi’s eyes flick every so slightly away (so subtly that only a few have caught it before), when he’s upset, he’s a little clingier or his voice is calmer (though many people interpret it as tiredness), when he’s angry but trying to stay calm he’ll probably have a lot of clenched fists (his hand opening and closing x100) but behind his back haha
Why can I see them both as dry texters tho.
Giyuu tries to sound more upbeat by adding emojis/emoticons but overall it’s basically just “Ok 😁👍❤️😋😚✨🎆🎉🎊🎏🍩🔥” // 😭 yeah he doesn’t have a lot of people to text…
I can also see Sanemi being a little old fashioned in a way, idk… He knows perfectly fine how to use a phone and shit but for some time mostly sent letters (except for casual/small talk ofc)
ok that’s it i can’t think of anything else anymore!!
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kastalani123 · 5 months ago
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The Riordanverse is, ultimately, a children's series so it's expected that the nitty-gritty, darker details of certain things get omitted. Still, I think it'd be interesting to see the demigods, each raised for slaughter in their own way, be the soldiers, the victims, the prey that they grew up to be for both godly and mortal reasons.
Percy always keeps Riptide in arm's reach, always keeps his fingers curled around it, ready to unsheath it every waking moment. He sits and stands with his back flush against walls, eyes and ears always open to seek the slightest hint of danger. He trusts Paul, he trusts Chiron — he still watches every minute shift of their expression, of their body for warning signs. He keeps outside Dionysus's range, ensures he always has an open exit within reach. The smell of alcohol makes him dizzy, nauseous; his thoughts leave his body sometimes, when it gets bad enough.
Annabeth keeps a packed bag at the bottom of her closet when she stays at her family's home; she has places she can stay and her parents and Chiron have been good, but her feet still itch when they frown a time too many. Nobody knows she still sees spiders sometimes, feels her skin itch with their crawling. She makes Percy swear he'll never leave the room before she wakes up unless it's truly necessary. She puts boards on her bed's edges so she'll never fall while she thrashes from nightmares; falling would only make it worse.
Leo sits far from any open fires and leaves if people start roasting meat; Plan C is used sparingly once he isn't constantly fighting for his life. His tool belt can't make food, but it stores more granola bars than he could ever carry without it. He makes himself near-unnoticeable earplugs after New Year's and he avoids looking at himself; his body is too whole for being blown to pieces and half the time he's sure the chunks are rotting around Camp Half-Blood where they should've fallen. He tries to keep from unnecessary interactions; he can't have things tying him to some place, not when he's mapped out dozens of escape plans. He smiles longer and wider than ever before.
Hazel doesn't wear jewelry; the only exception is a wooden bead bracelet Nico gave her after she rejected a golden necklace. Walls close in around her, dust and liquid clog her throat, stones crush her bones– she comes back to the present. She clings to affection like a drowning man to a piece of wood, but keeps watch for signs that it'll turn against her. Silence haunts her every step; she keeps an MP3 player and headphones with her at all times to drive it away.
Frank gathers up his form and pours it into a mould of himself, does what he can to keep it from spilling through the cracks. His fingers are littered with scars and scratches, with a trail of broken mirrors left behind in their wake. There are always voices arguing in the back of his mind — not his father's, but not his own, either; just a phantom screech pulsing through his head. He drowns them by sinking into new responsibilities, new dangers, shaping himself to fit while trying to remain himself. The crackle of burning wood follows him everywhere he goes and he can do nothing to down it out — only stare at whatever he had managed to save from his suicide to remind himself he does not need to worry about it; he has already crumbled into ash.
Piper dives into Oklahoma, into mortality, like she'll suffocate without it. She remains far from everything, though not far enough to be out of the loop, because she needs to know about every prophecy, every end of the world, every step and challenge her friends face. She calls them on a bronze-infused phone, not a rainbow, even if the camera and the notifications and the everythingness of it blind her like a spotlight and the thrum of electricity runs through her veins like venom. She paints her face a bit misshapen here, a bit discolored there, a bit unsettling everywhere, and Shel understands. She understands and she loves her and she says it's beautiful not in aesthetics but in the potential protection it provides, as Piper intended.
Jason had learned every rule with the mere intention to break it, to tear through the chains of military life that had been clamped around his throat for as long as he could remember. He had chased life, rather than the survival he had clung to for so long — packed every second of his ticking down time with it. Finally with freedom, but so little time with it, he snatched every piece of it he could: a mortal highschool, a movie theatre, a mall shopping spree, a room of his own — all carefully documented in stacks of journals, ever breath of air and glimpse of the sun, with copies upon copies stashed away so that his memories could never again slip away like sand between his fingers, so that his friends had something of him left, after his life of nothingness.
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thebestsetter · 1 month ago
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Kuroo has always had a bad hair.
Ever since he was a kid, one of his main physical traits is his atrocious bed hair. He wakes up like that because of how hard he presses his pillows to his ears while he sleeps, so it's not really a habit he can change easily. Also, he has never had a problem with it, especially because his pretty wife, you, said it's one of your favorite parts of him.
You always talk about how you love his hair, even if you still call him "rooster head" sometimes. You love to pet it, you love the shape, the color and everything involving his hair. Not even he is capable of understanding the "attraction" you feel for it, so he just enjoys it.
So yeah, he doesn't really hate his hair, and overtime, he learned how to keep it more "tamed" and "behaved". So he thought his hair problems were over. No more bad hair days.
Well, he thought.
"Stupid... hair tie...." Kuroo murmured, voice coming out muffled because of the pink butterfly pin with glitter that was on his mouth. His eyes held a look of extreme concentration, akin to a hunter aiming for a deer in the middle of the woods.
He was serious. In fact, he had never been so serious in his life. Because this wasn't any occasion. It was the first time you had ever let him dress up your 5 year old daughter for school. He couldn't mess this up.
Her hair needed to be perfect. He just seemed to forget he had never braided a hair before in his life.
"Daddy, are you alright?" His little girl asked, feet moving around and hands on her lap, waiting patiently for her dad to finish the "amazing hairstyle" he promised her.
If only she knew.
"Yeah, sweetheart!" Tetsuro said, drops of sweat running down his forehead. "Just wait a little more!" He said, taking his phone off his pocket while still holding a lock of hair and still with the butterfly pin in his mouth.
He then started watching a video on youtube. It's title was "How to make a braid with only 3 steps".
"Ah, so it's actually done with 3 locks of hair, not only 2!"
He then began treading his daughter's hair with such precision that it was scary. His eyes were focused and it seemed like he couldn't pay attention to anything else. It was only him, the hair ties, and the hair. Nothing else.
After a while, things were actually going somewhere.
No way. He was almost getting it finished!
"Tetsu, honey, are you guys ready?" He heard you calling from the kitchen
"One sec, love!" Kuroo shouted back. "Now I just need to do this and... AHA! My masterpiece is ready!"
"How do I look, daddy?" His daughter asked, smiling brightly at him. Even if she had some missing teeth, Kuroo swore it was the prettiest smile he had ever seen in his life. Of course it was. It was just like your's, afterall.
"You look amazing sweetie. Like a real princess! You're your dad's princess, you know that, right?"
"Thank you dad!" She smiled again, hugging him strongly. He hug her back, careful not to touch her hair in the process. He couldn't ruin his hard work!
"Now, why don't we go show mama how great you look, hm?" He crouched down and smiled at her
"Of course! Let's go dad!" She laughed, grabbing his hands and pulling him downstairs.
She really was the cutest kid Kuroo has ever seen.
"Okay sweetheart, close your eyes!" Kuroo said, peeking from the kitchen's door. "Our daughter wants to surprise you with her amazing hair - the one I braided, of course"
"Sure, Tetsu! I can't wait to see this great work of art!" You giggled, using a sarcatic tone.
I mean, look at his hair. He couldn't have an experience with braiding. It was clear the hair would look utterly horrible.
"Hey, I sensed that sarcasm!" He said, which made you giggle "Mind you, she loved it!"
"If you say so. I'm gonna close my eyes now!" You smiled, putting your hands on front of your eyes to show them you wouldn't cheat and open your eyes
"No peaking, mama!" You heard your daughter saying, her little footsteps making you realize she entered the kitchen.
"Yeah, no peaking!" Kuroo agreed.
Gosh, they really were the same.
"Okay, okay! I'm not gonna peek"
"Now, I'm gonna count to three and say 'now'. Then you can open your eyes!" Kuroo said, voice showing how excited he was
"Okay!" You smiled
"1..."
You were really starting to think he did a great job. He looked so proud of it, after all!
"2..."
You heard your daughter giggling in the background. Maybe you really judged your husband wrong. Maybe he did know how to braid hairs.
"3..."
You were sure it would be at least decent. If it was, then you'd let your daughter wear it to school. If they were both happy, why not?
"Now!"
You then remove your hands from your face and open your eyes, meeting the most...
Atrocious braid you've ever seen.
"She's not going like that to school." You deadpanned, looking at the hair and wondering why he thought this looked good. Had he never seen a braid before in his life?
"HUH? WHY NOT?" Kuroo shouted, his chest that was once proudly puffed up now deflating
"Why not, mama?" Your daughter started tearing up, looking up at you with big, pleading eyes.
"It looks..." terrible. Is what you really wanted to say.
But looking at your the sad faces of your family members, you didn't find the strength to do so. And so, with a sigh, you smiled and said
"Too good! Other kids will be jealous!"
"For a moment there I thought you were judging my hairstyling habilities!" Kuroo laughed, that obnoxious laugh of his that you loved so much echoing through the halls
"Oh!" Your daughter also laughed, the same way her dad did "There's no problem! I can tell dad to do their hairstyles too!"
"Great idea, sweetie!" Kuroo agreed with her, eyes sparkling up
"I think... it's better if you don't"
"What do you mean by that?" Kuroo asked, looking straight at you with a very sad face.
"Just... you don't seem to have a talent with hairs."
"But you told me you love my hair!" Tetsuro pouted
"I do. And I love you, too!" You kissed his nose, making him smirk at you.
"Not enough. What about... here?"
He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you in for a kiss on the lips. It was full of all the love and passion he held for you and the family you both created together.
"Ewww, daddy and mommy are kissing! Gross!" Your daughter put her tongue out and did a "throwing up" mimic, making you both laugh.
"Now, let's take you to school, sweetheart!"
You smiled, leading both your husband and your daughter to the car.
You really loved your family, even if Kuroo didn't know how to deal with hairs sometimes.
You wonder if he would "get along" better with his son's hair. The son that he still doesn't know is in your belly right now.
Well, he still has 7 months to practice for when the time comes.
~ A/N: FINALLY WROTE A REQUEST!! It was so fun writing this omG. I love healthy families 💕. ALSO, first hq fic!! 🥳🥳
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