#by learning to heal with a heart wide open

[plutonianeris]

Jupiter and your Future Husband 🖤💍

Jupiter in the 1st House or Aries: Right from the jump, this is someone who’s been captivated by you the moment they saw you. You walk into a room, and their friends literally catch them staring, eyes wide, like they’ve seen a goddess. They probably say things like, "Who is that?" or "Wow, she's incredible." Jupiter in your 1st House brings someone bold and super charismatic, like a breath of fresh air. He’s got a magnetic presence and a laugh that fills the room. He’s a natural optimist who sees you as a dream come true, and he isn’t afraid to approach you with that confidence. He’ll treat you like a queen right off the bat and isn’t afraid to show the world just how mesmerized he is by you.

Jupiter in the 2nd House or Taurus: This man’s been admiring you from a distance, patiently watching, maybe liking your photos on ig. There’s this quiet, steady admiration he respects your worth and wants to add value to your life. He has this natural vibe of wanting to spoil you, make you feel safe and secure, and show you how deeply he appreciates who you are. He might have been a bit guarded with his feelings before meeting you, but you light up something in him that makes him want to open up. He’s likely successful or financially stable, and he sees you as the ultimate prize a rare gem worth cherishing.

Jupiter in the 3rd House or Gemini: This one’s the type who will slide into your DMs with the most charming, witty comments that leave you smiling (He can "rizz" you up as the kids like to say these days). He’s been captivated by the way you express yourself your thoughts, your humor, the way you speak or write. When he saw you, he was instantly hooked, thinking, “Who is she?” and feeling that pull to get to know you on a deeper level. He’s smart, curious, and probably has a way with words himself. He might’ve been a bit guarded or aloof with his emotions before, but with you, he’s suddenly willing to talk about things he never thought he’d share. You’re like his muse, and he’ll love engaging with you in deep conversations.

Jupiter in the 4th House or Cancer: There’s something so soul-deep about this connection. He’s seen you as someone he wants to come home to from the very start, even if he couldn’t fully understand why. When you post a story or picture, he gets this little pang of warmth, imagining a future where he’s in the background of that photo, sharing those cozy moments with you. He’s gentle, warm-hearted, and would go out of his way to make you feel safe. With a deep sensitivity, he might’ve been through some emotional growth before you came along, learning to trust his heart again. With you, he feels seen, understood, and healed.

Jupiter in the 5th House or Leo: He’s been watching your social media and sees you as this radiant, captivating spirit. You’re a mystery he wants to uncover, someone who brings color and excitement into his world. He’s got a playful energy and is incredibly drawn to how unique and confident you are. When he saw you, he probably had to do a double take, thinking, “She’s the one.” He might be a bit of a creative himself, someone who values self-expression, and he’s absolutely infatuated with the way you live life so openly. He sees you as someone who’ll make his life feel like a never-ending adventure, full of joy, creativity, and romance.

Jupiter in the 6th House or Virgo: Here’s someone who admires the way you move through life with purpose and care. He’s low-key been following your life for a while, admiring your routines, your kindness, your dedication. You’re like his inspiration to be better, healthier, more grounded. He’s deeply thoughtful, maybe even a bit shy, but he’s incredibly genuine. He wants to work for your love, showing up in quiet ways that make a difference little acts of service that show you how much he cares. He’s got this gentle, nurturing vibe, and he’s completely mesmerized by how put-together you are. He sees you as a grounding force, someone who brings meaning and beauty into everyday life.

Jupiter in the 7th House or Libra: Your future husband has been patiently waiting for someone exactly like you. He’s the type who believes in true partnership and harmony, and he’s drawn to your warmth, your grace, the way you make everything feel balanced. When he saw you, he felt that instant connection, like this is it. He’s a natural romantic, the type who wants to hold your hand through life and be your biggest supporter. Before you, he might have struggled with relationships, maybe keeping people at arm’s length, but with you, he wants to go all in. You’re the missing piece he’s been searching for, the one he’s been ready to commit to forever.

Jupiter in the 8th House or Scorpio: Intense, magnetic, and maybe a bit mysterious, this man feels like destiny. The minute he saw you, he felt something deep shift, like he’d known you in another lifetime. He’s probably been through some serious emotional growth, and he sees you as someone who lights up the darkest corners of his life. He’s captivated by your strength and your vulnerability, the way you’re not afraid to be real. He’s not just looking for a fling he wants that soul-deep connection, the one that transforms both of you. When you’re together, it feels like a cosmic bond, something otherworldly and electric.

Jupiter in the 9th House or Sagittarius: This man has a wandering spirit, and when he saw you, he felt like he’d finally found home. He’s captivated by your mind, your ideals, and the way you’re constantly seeking knowledge. You’re like this beautiful enigma to him, someone who expands his world and makes him feel alive. He might’ve been a bit of a loner before, always chasing dreams, but you make him want to settle down. He’ll see you as his partner in adventure, the one who’ll travel the world with him and dive into life’s biggest questions. You’re his inspiration, his muse, the one who makes him want to reach new heights.

Jupiter in the 10th House or Capricorn: The moment he saw you, he knew he’d met someone who’d change his life. He’s got big goals, and he’s deeply inspired by your strength and ambition. You’re like this beautiful force, someone who embodies grace and resilience, and he’s in awe. He’s probably known about you for a while, admiring your accomplishments and how you carry yourself. He sees you as someone he can build an empire with, someone who brings out the best in him. With you, he feels like he’s found a partner who’s not only supportive but challenges him to grow. You’re the queen to his king, the one who completes his vision.

Jupiter in the 11th House or Aquarius: This man sees you as his best friend and lover all in one. He’s been quietly admiring you for a while, possibly through mutual friends or social circles. There’s this warmth to you, a kindness that he finds irresistible. When he first saw you, he couldn’t believe how lucky he was to meet someone who just gets him. He wants to build something meaningful with you, something that goes beyond just the two of you. He’s drawn to your vision, your compassion, and he knows that with you, he’s found a true partner who’ll stand by his side through anything.

Jupiter in the 12th House or Pisces: Mysterious and deeply spiritual, this man feels like he’s known you across lifetimes. He’s the type who watched you from afar, maybe even feeling shy about approaching because he sees you as someone almost out of reach, like a dream. He’s been through his own journey, and he sees you as a guiding light, someone who brings meaning and beauty to his life. You’re like his secret muse, his angel in disguise. He’s mesmerized by the way you bring peace to his world, and he’s willing to put in the work to make you feel loved, safe, and cherished.

Jupiter Aspects and Your Future Husband's Qualities❤️‍🔥

Jupiter-Sun Aspects: With Jupiter and the Sun intertwined, this is someone who radiates warmth a natural optimist who just lights up any space they walk into. From the moment they meet you, they’re captivated by your energy, drawn to your glow. They’re probably fun loving and generous even to a fault, going out of their way to make you feel cherished. Imagine a partner who’s always planning little surprises, making you laugh, and showing you that life together can be an adventure. They’ll adore celebrating you and cheering on your dreams like they’re their own. With them, you’ll feel like you’re with your number-one fan.

Jupiter-Moon Aspects: These aspects bring such a beautiful, nurturing energy. When Jupiter meets the Moon, it creates someone who’s deeply attuned to your feelings, always wanting to make sure you feel loved and secure. This is the partner who brings you coffee in bed, senses your mood shifts before you even say a word, and makes you feel like you’re the center of their world. They’re the type who knows how to comfort you, who values a soulful connection and will create a safe space for your heart to flourish. With them, it’s a love that feels soft, deep, and truly devoted.

Jupiter-Saturn Aspects: When Jupiter meets Saturn, it brings a blend of optimism and groundedness. This partner believes in lasting love and isn’t here to play games. They might have an “old soul” vibe, or maybe life has taught them the beauty of stability and commitment. With you, they’re looking for something real, something solid. They’re probably successful or hardworking, and they’ll want to share that journey with you. They believe in a love that’s both supportive and fun a partner in adventure and a rock to lean on. With them, you’ll feel cherished in a love that’s balanced and true.

Jupiter-Mercury Aspects: If you’re drawn to a Jupiter-Mercury energy, you’re in for a partner who’s totally captivated by your mind. They see you as the perfect partner for exploring life’s wonders, both mentally and physically. Imagine someone who’s a natural conversationalist, sending you thoughtful texts, getting lost in deep conversations, and admiring the way you see the world. They’ll be there cheering you on as you follow your passions, and they’ll value growth and learning together. With them, life is a journey of shared curiosity, where each day brings something new to talk about, dream up, or discover.

Jupiter-Uranus Aspects: With Jupiter and Uranus joining forces, this partner is anything but ordinary. They’re a free spirit, maybe a bit of a rebel, and definitely unconventional when it comes to love. They might have a unique style or quirky hobbies that add spark to your connection. They’re the kind who sees love as an adventure, encouraging you to break boundaries and be unapologetically yourself. With them, romance won’t follow the usual script it’ll be spontaneous, thrilling, and always fresh. You’ll feel like you’re on a journey of self-discovery together, each step bringing out the most authentic sides of each other.

Jupiter-Pluto Aspects: Jupiter-Pluto aspects bring a magnetic, transformative energy. There’s an intensity in the way they love, a feeling that this connection is life-changing. They’re captivated by your depth and will want to know every piece of you, never settling for surface-level. There’s an aura of power about them whether it’s in their presence, their drive, or their passion for life. They see love as a force that empowers both of you, and they’ll support you fiercely through everything. This is a partner who sees you as their equal, a person they’ll build a world of strength, resilience, and passion with.

Jupiter-Neptune Aspects: When Jupiter meets Neptune, romance feels like a fairytale. This is someone who’s deeply compassionate and has a gentle, dreamy quality. They’re likely lost in their own world sometimes, and they see love as something magical. With them, life will feel like a daydream you’re not just a partner, you’re their muse. They’re the type to hold your hand under the stars, write you poetry, and make you feel like you’re living in a beautiful, endless love story. In their eyes, love is soulful, tender, and otherworldly, and they’ll make you feel like you’re living in a fantasy come to life.

Jupiter-Venus Aspects: This aspect is all about pure romance and indulgence. With Jupiter enhancing Venus’s charm, this is someone who loves to spoil you. They’re affectionate, thoughtful, and not afraid of grand gestures. Imagine someone who’s always surprising you with flowers, planning sweet dates, and making you feel adored. They have a big heart and see you as the person who makes life so much sweeter. With them, you’ll experience a love that’s joyful, warm, and overflowing. They’ll treat you like royalty, not just with gifts but with the kind of genuine adoration that makes you feel like you’re their world.

[meleeyz]

୭ 𝗠𝗘𝗧𝗔𝗟 𝗣𝗘𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗦 ˚. ᵎᵎ

ekko 𝒙 fem!reader

୨୧ English is not my first language, so I regret in advance if something reads weird or is misspelled

୨୧ Thank you so much for the support on the first oneshot, this is mostly fluff because I have to heal the wounds in my heart that arc two left behind.

୨୧ I'm still learning how to use masterlists and stuff (😿) but you can send me requests if you want! For now I'm only going to write about Ekko (or until I learn how to use tumblr) then I'll post the list of characters I could write for.

୨୧ Inspired by some headcanons of @blllllllllllllllllllue

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

The Firelights’ hideout always felt alive, even in its quietest moments, but your little corner was a chaos. It was where you crafted, creating not just the masks that symbolized your rebellion but tiny pieces of identity for your comrades.

"Something like this?" you asked, holding up a rough sketch for the recruit seated across from you. He was new to the team and still shy around most people, but with you, he seemed to relax, likely due to your welcoming demeanor.

“Yeah, that’s cool,” he said, leaning in to inspect it. "But, uh, could you make the eyes a little bigger? I want it to look more… intense."

“Intense. Got it.” You jotted down the adjustment in the margins, smiling as you worked. “Anything else?”

The recruit hesitated for a moment before glancing at you sheepishly. “So, uh, are you Ekko’s girl? Like… his girlfriend?”

The question caught you so off guard that the pencil slipped from your fingers. Heat bloomed in your cheeks, and you scrambled to compose yourself.

“Oh! Uh, yeah. I mean—yes. I am.”

The recruit grinned.

“Thought so. He talks about you all the time.”

Your heart did a funny little flip, equal parts warmth and embarrassment.

“He does?”

“Yeah. Like, a lot. You’d think you hung the moon or something”

The boy’s teasing tone made you flush deeper. Before you could decide whether to be mortified or flattered, another voice broke through.

“Hey! Ekko’s looking for you!” A little boy poked his head in the door, oblivious to the conversation he was interrupting. “Said it’s important.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks.” You turned back to the recruit, already rising to your feet. “I’ve got everything I need for your mask. I’ll start on it soon.”

“Take your time,” he replied, giving you a knowing look as you walked out.

He nodded, and with a small wave, you left the workshop and made your way to Ekko’s space.

The closer you got to Ekko’s workshop, the quieter the base became, the energy from the rest of the Firelights retreating into the distance. You pushed the door open cautiously, only to find the room eerily calm. The usual clatter of tools and the whir of machinery were absent.

When you stepped inside the workshop, the quiet was almost eerie. Tools and half-built gadgets lay scattered across Ekko’s workbench, but there was no sign of him.

“Ekko?” you called, glancing around.

No answer.

A small knot of worry tightened in your chest.

“If this is a joke, it’s not funny—”

Before you could finish, arms wrapped around you from behind, lifting you off the ground. You let out a startled yelp as you were spun around, your voice mixing with laughter that bubbled up despite yourself.

“Ekko!” you cried, trying to sound indignant, but failing miserably as he set you down, his grin impossibly wide. “You scared the life out of me, you jerk!”

“Couldn’t resist,” he admitted, still chuckling. His voice carried that familiar mix of playfulness and warmth that always made your heart skip a beat. He leaned in and planted a quick kiss on your cheek. “You’re cute when you’re mad.”

You swatted at his arm, trying to suppress a smile.

“What did you need me for, anyway? And don’t say it was just to scare me.”

“Relax, Firefly,” he teased, stepping back. “I’ve got something for you. Close your eyes.”

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously.

“If this is another prank—”

“It’s not,” he said quickly, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Promise. Just trust me.”

After a brief hesitation, you sighed and shut your eyes.

“Okay, but if you throw something at me—”

“Shh. No peeking.”

You heard him moving around, the soft clang of metal and the scrape of something being picked up. Your curiosity burned, but you kept your eyes closed, hands fidgeting nervously at your sides.

“Alright,” Ekko said finally. “Open.”

When you did, your breath caught. In his hands was a bouquet of flowers, but not just any flowers—each one was intricately crafted from scrap metal, their petals shaped and welded together with incredible precision. They shimmered faintly in the light, their edges polished to a soft gleam.

“I made these for you,” Ekko said, his voice quieter now, as if he wasn’t sure how you’d react. His smile, though, was radiant, the little gap in his front teeth only adding to its charm. “You like them?”

“Like them?” you echoed, reaching out to take the bouquet. “Ekko, they’re beautiful. You made these?”

He scratched the back of his neck, looking both proud and bashful.

“Yeah. Thought you’d appreciate something… different. Real flowers don’t last long down here”

You turned the bouquet in your hands, marveling at the craftsmanship. Each flower was unique, and the care he’d put into them was evident in every detail. Your chest felt tight with emotion as you looked back at him.

“Why, though? What’s the occasion?”

Ekko’s grin returned, mischievous but endearing.

“The right way to ask my girlfriend out on a date. Tonight.”

Your lips parted in surprise.

“A date?”

“Yeah. Thought it was time we did something just for us. No missions. Just you and me.” He stepped closer, his gaze locked on yours. “So, what do you say?”

A warm, fuzzy silence hung between you, the weight of his words and the sincerity in his eyes tying your tongue. Your gaze flicked to his lips, the same thought clearly mirrored in his mind as he leaned closer.

The moment stretched as the world outside seemed to blur and fade. Just as your lips were about to meet—

“Oh, uh, sorry!”

Both you and Ekko jumped apart as the recruit from earlier barged in, a sheepish look on his face.

“I just—uh—I had another idea for the mask and thought—”

Ekko sighed loudly, his previous grumpiness overtaking his usual charm.

“Seriously?”

“I’ll just—uh—leave” the recruit stammered, already retreating back through the door.

You chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“It’s fine,” you told him. “We can talk about it later.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension melting away as you stepped back.

“Guess we’ll have to finish this later, huh?”

Ekko’s pout was almost comical.

“You owe me, Firefly.”

As you turned to leave, you blew him a playful kiss. Ekko grinned, pretending to catch it in midair and press it to his chest.

“See you later.”

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

[anonymous-existences]

Chapter 1 : One Sided Family

Big TW:(thanks for reminding me;-;) sensetive stuff such as graphic SH and CSH. THIS FIC is absolutely WHUMP based, I apparently hurt a lot of spots— either way, Neglect, Angst, Danny suffering, neglect.

(yes, this is the fic title <33)

Danyal Al Ghul, A child that shouldn't have existed, a child capable of sunny sweet smiles and empathy despite the harsh environment of the league. No one understood how he could still smile and make subtle small jokes, a warm presence that he gave off was eerie for the league. It made Talia much more favorable of her other son, the much superior Damian Al Ghul.

Danyal himself didn't understand how he could be himself, whenever he greets someone they ignore him, he tries to open up to his own brother hoping for some closure between them but that only left him with a deep scar in his cheek, he had to tend to his own wounds from fighting with his brother, his existence felt like a mere stepping stool for Damian Al Ghul, Also known for being the Real Heir of the Al Ghuls. Danny slowly felt disappointment in himself, blaming himself for being the way he is.

Was Danyal wrong? Was Danyal a mistake? Danyal asked himself gently placing his small palm on the mirror, a slap of the Mother he is bound to with flesh and blood visible in his cheek, his small hands pressing on his reflection, 'Why am I.. wrong?' Danyal mentally asked himself trying to hold back to tears who wanted to break through his calm act, his chest heavy with questions yearning for the warmth he was not even familiar with.

Danyal saw a new guard for them, he resembled someone... Danyal couldn't pinpoint who, He always greeted the guard despite them not greeting or saying anything back, but Danny felt as though they were watching him, softly. Danyal smiled at the guard every so often despite being told by his superior twin that there is no use in taking notice of the guard. Danyal always snuck books to the guard and often puts it in his hands or Danyal would sit beside him and read slowly.

The guard used to only stare at the books but now he's started reading them which made Danyal's heart leap in joy as he had finally found an interest of the nameless guard. At some point Danyal had approached the guard and slowly got used to sitting on the Nameless Guard's Lap, Danyal no longer felt lonely in the league. Getting attached to his new found friend despite Damian's disappointment in his attachment atleast his twin is now learning more stuff from observing the guard.

It was occasional that Danny get a scrape or two from the harsh training and the guard would come by the boy the kneel, staring at the scrapes as if it would go away with just sight trying to 'intimidate' the wound to stare it away, unable to process on how to properly 'repair' or heal the injury. It made Danyal laugh as it portrays that the guard has a sense of care for the boy but just didn't know how to act on it, knowing nothing as to how he'd be able to help Danyal.

As time went on Danyal has grown fascinated with the stars, His newfound friend has noticed sure, often nodding along with Danyal's Chattering about what he's learned and what books the boy has read, Danyal wishes that this silent friend of his would stay with him for he is the only one who's ever listened to the boy. "Can I know your name?" Danyal blurted out to the guard, "Oh wait sorry Right— you can't speak—" Danny was interrupted by the guard's deep Voice.

"Jason." He said, Danny perked up and his eyes sparkled and he nodded with a wide bright smile, it made the guard flinch and just nod back, now it was just another day for Danyal hoping to read more books with the guard but upon entering his chambers... He was not there.

Danyal felt his heart crack at the sight of his friend not being present. Where is he? Danyal looked around silently in the league searching for his friend desperately but he never found the Man, Danyal held back his tears as to not show any emotion. He thought maybe the guard was a test from Grandfather to tell Danyal that he could take what Danyal loves the most if he continued to be... Weak.

Slowly he built up walls around his heart, his soul, secluding himself and becoming lone, Although he still trained even under harsh conditions he continued fighting through, not because he had a purpose but because it's the only thing he thinks he's useful for, he could never surpass his superior twin but the best he could surpass would be his own self. But deep inside him his heart aches at the loneliness he felt, he felt alone and gradually his mind was filled with thoughts of usefulness and what is... What is he?

What was wrong with him? Not even grandfather liked him, rather grandfather nor mother looked at him, Neither did his twin. 'Maybe I really just wasn't supposed to be born...' he whispered under his breathe holding back tears as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. He pulled up his sleeves and unsheathed his blade, "Maybe.... Maybe the pain will make me forget...?" Danyal asked himself staring at the mirror, moments after he hissed in pain feeling his blood trail down from his wrists.

He couldn't hold back his tears as he continued to let the blood drip, he stared at his tear streaked face, "Yeah... The pain does make me forget.." Danyal smiled in the mirror slowly getting himself used to the mask, Putting on a poker face is better than... Him. Danyal washed his hands and pulled down his sleeves, hiding the wounds just like always as no one would really care nor notice a few sliced in his wrists. No one will ever love him back in this place, his devotion and love will never be.... Acknowledged either way.

Another day passed, and another, and another, normal days until assassins who had been, practically with the league for a long long time who still held their loyalty to the former leader whom Ra's had executed didn't stand by. In an act of revenge, the remaining assassins had tainted the food of the two heirs to the Demon Head with poison and immediately committed death to themselves afterwards.

Danyal laid on the cold floor, his body slightly pulsing slowly losing consciousness in their private chamber, Danyal looked over to his twin and reached to hold the boy's hand, he felt his consciousness fade slowly as the pain began to began it's work. Thinking death will finally take it's toll on Danyal, he wishes upon a star, a myth of the children, tell no one and it will come true, Slowly he fluttered his eyes close and wished upon his last gasp of Breathe he wished that in If ever there is a next life, someone to love him with all his heart the way he loves back.

...

......

.......

He blinked, he opened his eyes, he had been reborn, his body now regressed back to that of a baby. He was born in the family of the 'Fentons' , parents that are scientists(?) he wasn't quite sure as to what the Fenton's really are. Although they weren't always present he could feel that they loved him, loved him as their son ofcourse. They spent their time tinkering away and chattering about their latest project. It did not bother D̶a̶n̶y̶a̶l̶Daniel as they took their time to teach Danny the basics of 'Tinkering' away.

Jasmine Fenton, Jazz as she preferred was different than his past experience, instead of leaving him behind and going on her merry way and watch their parents 'raise' him she stayed, rather she acted just like a mother, despite being the more favored sibling among their parent's favor, despite her being just allowed to leave the boy to fend off for himself, she stayed.

She read many books, thick and thin, so many infact it surpassed her already tall frame, all books surrounding the topic of parenting and how to take care of a child that is Daniel, It confused Daniel, all this love and attention they are giving is new to him, like a radiant glimmer of hope that shines brighter than the sun itself. It was warm and Comforting, a new sensation he didn't want to let go. He clutched onto his Sister..? Mother. Like a chickling to it's mother hen.

Whenever he was in distress she was there to console him, comfort him that he did nothing wrong, whenever something didn't go his way she'd teach him how to understand how not everything turns out the way he wants. She taught him many things, Jack and Maddie did too but Jazz taught him nearly everything. She was there, she filled the roles of Mother and Father despite her having the talents to run away and become successful, her intellect leaving her with many open doors she could take yet she looked behind and stayed... For him.

He fumbled and sometimes felt shy with all the love he is receiving, along with his new two best friends Samantha Ingrid "Sam" Manson and Tucker Foley and some mutuals, they too were with him through thick and thin despite... Despite that accident that left him scarred. They cared for him and loved him even tho they knew, they all knew he changed. That he died but they stayed and helped him through the memories and the pain, slowly gaining more friends in the school despite his difference.

Even getting a suitor that is Dash Baxter, although Jazz was very protective of Danny at first for The Boy was a Former Bully and A Jock that jazz didn't trust he didn't give up on trying to court Danny that it made Danny laugh, Jazz finally let the boy Court Danny after so long of fighting jazz for the 'right to love' as Sam would call the whole ordeal. They stuck through everything, the mess and the new appearances.

Even when Ellie appeared! Although she was a surprise to him he accepted her wholeheartedly seeing her as his little sister, although it started rough because of some complications with Vlad... they got through it and slowly going somewhere together. Then he saw himself, a future version of himself from another timeline where he had lost it all, He knew everything, every secret he kept hidden and locked away. Dan knew every thought he made, every action and every strategy. Both eventually clicking with each other and Dan realizing he still had that soft spot in his 'core'.

The bond between them becoming brothers just as well, it was perfect, D̶a̶n̶i̶e̶l̶Danny had people who loved him back, the way he loved them with all his being. The way he gave away his heart to them. If only Maddie and Jack never found out what he became after the accident, maybe he could've stayed. He felt so much pain being strapped to the table and opened up like some... Animal. The last moments he's seen being his Older Sister, Jazz screaming out his name in the Lab before his eyes fluttered close due to exhaustion and pain.

...

.....

........

Why was he back? The walls of the league surrounding him, His breathe Hitched and his eyes frantically looking around slowly processing that he was.. back. Back in the league, he felt his walls instantly guard his 'core' his heart. "What?" He blurted out as he breathes in and out trying to compose his beating heart. 'Why? Why? Was it all a dream? Please. It wasn't a dream right?!' he asked himself under hushed whispers and clenched his chest, he saw the scar he retained from the accident still in his hand, he traced it on his body and the Lichtenberg Scar was still trailing along his palm to his chest to his eye.

D̶a̶n̶y̶a̶l̶ couldn't understand, how does he remember the years he was Danny? Perhaps a past life? That couldn't be as he gained back the scars from that 'past life' , it all felt like a haze in the mind, a barrier of fog into memories he couldn't access. He knew to himself it wasn't dream. It couldn't be at all! There was no way! The only proof he had to say to himself that it had been real was a neon green sticky note that appeared Infront of him in the mirror.

"Time Will Tell.'

-CW

Danny grit his teeth, he felt the last of his tears flow out, a silent scream escaping his mouth as he for the first time in what felt like years, let the blood trickle down his palm from his wrist, from that day froward he didn't care no longer. He thickened the walls around his heart and do what he was told. 3 days after his awakening Damian himself finally woke up, but remained indifferent as always.

"Danyal?" Damian took notice of Danny for the first time. Damian noticed that the Boy... Stopped smiling at Damian, Damian didn't understand at first but he just thought to himself that maybe it's just that Danny has finally realized his softness will not get him anywhere in the league. Danny stared at Damian for the most part and never responded to his twin's questions, always lost in thought in those eyes devoid of any emotions, eyes that used to shine at the sight of stars now dull and... Dark.

Ra's was pleased by Danyal's new self, for this dull knife was finally sharpening itself to be a deadly dagger, Talia remained as indifferent as always but Damian had a slight hint of concern he shut out. Danyal remained indifferent, setting himself to be the loyal tool he was expected to be keeping his hands in his back and his head moderately high but not higher than his superior twin's. He was the tool they always expected him to be now, Damian's supposed stepping stool to success and greatness as the next Demon Head Heir.

'Right, this is how it was always supposed to be...' Danny whispered to himself, Damian hearing only faintly and glancing at Danny who didn't look back, Danny didn't look 'scared' or 'nervous' Infront of Ra's or anyone anymore as he shouldn't be, he acted like a doll with no emotion, complete contrast of what he used to be. He thinks it's for the betterment of himself to completely lock his emotions in the empty space in his head.

For his 'Mother' is no longer there to receive his love.

....

When they turned 10 years old Talia sent them off to their Father in Gotham in an effort to disrupt their work which didn't really succeed.

Richard "Dick" Grayson immediately took a liking to Damian seeing Jason in the young boy and someone who needed 'care' and guidance. Danyal... Danny was just following them as they cemented their immediate likeness to Damian after they had thought Bruce Died. Dick immediately decided that he would put his all into guiding the young Damian.

But what about Danyal?

Danyal tilted his head as he paused in the doorway of the Manor, "Oh my... Hello there Young Master..." Alfred Pennyworth, the Butler of Wayne Manor greeted Danyal and lowered his knee to Danyal's height, "Oh.... Hello..." Danyal merely greeted meekly as he looked up at the older Man, "Come on in.. May I know your name?" Alfred asked holding out his hand to the poor boy. "Danyal... But... Please call me Danny.." Danny, smiled.

Alfred Nodded and lead Danny in the Manor, "Do you want to eat anything young Master Danny?" Alfred looked down at the new ward and Danny stared at Alfred for a moment, "do you know.. how to make.. Burgers or Pierogi?" Danny tilts his head, "why Ofcourse Master Danny, how about beverages?" Alfred asked softly, "Just some... Soda is fine." Danny gave him a small smile as Alfred held the boy's hand and lead him to the kitchen to wait and eat.

Danny knew they weren't exactly food that Danny should be familiar with in the league, Danny asked for them either way to remember the taste of Illinois in his tounge. To remember When Jazz would cook him pierogi or when him and his friends and 'suitor' would eat at Nasty Burger with their food, he merely wanted to remember the 'past life' that he so loved.

Alfred served him his food with a smile, a pierogi and a burger with soda, Danny brightened up and smiled at Alfred, "Thank You Sir Pennyworth..." Danny muttered shyly and Alfred chuckled amused, "Please just call me Alfred, Master Danny." Alfred slightly ruffled the boy's hair gently and Danny nodded so.

After some time Danny yawned whilst telling Alfred stories of Amity Park, Alfred just listening intently despite the confusion on how Danny would know this, or the fact that Amity Park didn't exist... Alfred listened to the small boy's chatter until he grew exhausted and fell asleep leaning on Alfred's arm. Alfred's eyes softened gently carresing the boy's cheek and grazing over his visible Lichtenberg scar that tainted his innocent small face.

Alfred gently carried the boy and heading over to an empty bedroom that was promptly kept clean by Alfred everyday, Alfred tucked the boy in and looked over his shoulder, "Alfred... That's the other one right?" Dick asks, "Yes Master Dick, This is.. Danyal, but he prefers the Name Danny." Alfred just bows slightly at Dick who nodded.

"I see... Jason and Damian are at the living room, do you also want to meet Damian now too?" Dick asks and Alfred nodded following Dick out of the room, Alfred carefully and quietly shut the bedroom door letting Danny sleep peacefully. Danny's Scars spread, revealing more of it's leakage to Danyal from Daniel, Danny felt his dreams manifest.

Days, Passed, maybe even weeks, Danny lost count on how long it has been since he's talked to one of his 'brothers' or Damian as it seemed they're always busy, Damian was also building connections with them and Danny being once again left behind to himself... 'maybe I could help Tim with Father?' Danny asked himself slowly perking up knowing he can ask Clockwork for a Favor. Although it may change some things in the timeline because of his favored interference. Maybe they'd finally acknowledge him.

Danny snuck inside the Batcave with ease using his Phantom Abilities, He wrote on a small sticky note that he found by Tim's usual Desk and drew a summoning circle to ask CW. Danny looked up at a clock "Clockwork... Can you do them a small favor?" Danny asked the clock softly and it ticked loudly by the minute and Danny knew that meant a 'Yes'. Danny smiled softly and put stuck the note in the computer where Tim would easily see.

Danny was organizing the files after seeing the mess and even putting other sticky notes to help Tim, Danny's heart fluttered at thinking of how he could help Tim through small clues, all notes he put had the initials "D.W." on them with a smile. Eventually he even got a Coffee Ready Thermos by the Desk for Tim before leaving the Batcave with a happy smile and a light heart.

"Clockwork should I tell Alfred?" Danny asked the grandfather clock and it ticked by the minute initiating another yes, Danny hopped happily and heading to find Alfred but promptly stopping in his tracks. Danny stared at Jason and Damian 'hanging out' in the backyard. "The Guard..." Danny muttered under his breathe, he leaned on the Window from upstairs as he watched them play.

"Maybe... I'm not meant to be loved her—" the Clock ticked loudly as if aggresively saying that it was not the case. Danny just stared at the clock and sat by the window. "I miss my mom..." Danny mutters softly his voice betraying him and breaking. "Damian?" Dick places his hand on Danny's shoulder, "O-Oh! It's you... Your name is Danny right?" Dick asked with a worried face wiping the tears in Danny's face.

"Am I... Not wanted here..?" Danny asked straightforwardly tears sliding down his cheeks, Dick froze, "W-why would you say that Buddy?" Dick's face contorts into more worry and disbelief. "This is... The first time I've been here that any of you talked to me..." Danny sobbed out, unable to hold back his heavy emotions any longer, Dick just embraced the small boy in his arms. "It's not that you're not wanted... That's not it, I'm sorry." Dick softly whispered as Danny continued crying.

"I'm sorry we made you feel that way..." Dick just comforted the boy, He didn't notice that his 'favoritism' towards Damian was affecting the other boy, they always thought of him as the unmoving wallflower that didn't seem or look that he cared at all about it, they always thought Damian was the one who needed more care since he seemed more expressive and aggresive.

Dick took Danny outside hoping he could know more about the kid, although Danny only stayed quiet as they watched Damian and Jason play, Damian dragging Dick to play as well, Danny being.. left behind again.. atleast he's gotten used to being left alone that it stopped hurting too much. Danny stood up and left without the three noticing his presence disappearing.

"A promise is just a slurry of words that can always be broken..." Danny muttered softly under mostly broken breathes as he headed back to his assigned bedroom. Tommorow dawned on Danny as the presence of Clockwork dropped the temperature of the home, Danny felt himself shivering slightly and breathe puffing out frost as he was in the halls.

He had forgotten that 'Danyal' and 'Daniel' are different bodies and that he himself is not used to this sudden coldness that felt like Winter inside a frozen cave. "Danyal!" Danny heard Damian call out his name and a jacket being wrapped around him, "Wear this." Damian clicked his tounge as he helped his younger brother cover up and wrapped his smaller frame with a large and thick blanket.

"I've been looking everywhere for you." Damian sighed and hugged Danny tightly, "Huh? What do you need Damian?" Danny just asked and Damian grabbed the boy by the wrist gently and dragged him to the Batcave, "I think that green creature is looking for you." Damian says breathing out a puff of frost as he does so, Ice trailing along the walls the longer the temperature stayed low.

Damian dragged Danny to the Batcave, Damian trying to resist the cold but Danyal getting concerned and Wrapping Damian in the blanket he has given him, "I already have a jacket Akhi." Danny sighed and forced Damian like a burrito before being the one to drag him to the Batcave instead.

As they arrived at the Batcave they saw Tim on his knees on the floor staring up at the large green portal atop the summoning circle adorned by stop watches and candles, other heroes such as The speedsters and some Danny doesn't recognize also present. The higher being wore blue ghastly robes holding a staff. It was hard to properly see the being with it's full glory due to the brightness of the Lazarus Green portal.

"This Interference will cause some.. major and minor changes in the future... Do you want to proceed?" The being asked, but it didn't seem to ask Tim. Tim looked over his shoulder and saw Danny and Damian, Danny nodded. "Very well little Badger~" the higher being laughed amused at how this world is proceeding instead of it's original course.

[Clockwork Favors his Grandchild too much to not do the bidding of changing a Realm's timeline course.]

The higher being that is Clockwork slowly approached Tim who instinctively covered Danny and Damian with his body, his action made Clockwork smile enthusiastically, "atleast you have the mind to care for both boys... Hmm... Yes yes I'll help you..." Clockwork motions his hand dismissively slowly turning his body to face the other leaguers and John Constantine. "Oh my. I came early didn't it Hellblazer?" Clockwork tilts his head smiling and approaching John.

John felt the weight of the room become heavier than before, the pressure from the god of time's presence weighing them all down, John lowered his head as a bow and the other leaguers followed his motion knowing well if they even offend the god they'll have no other choice now and Bruce will surely not come back. Clockwork taps his chin with his finger a smile still plastered in his face. "The children shouldn't be awake for any of these." Clockwork said and before anyone could respond, he turns his head to Damian and Danny's direction and flicked his finger.

Their eyes shut close, sudden exhaustion overwhelming both their bodies.

.....

......

Danny opened his eyes suddenly and sat up near immediately, gasping for air and frantically looking around, he found Damian slowly waking up beside him, Danny could hear his heart racing in his ears as he slowly took in slow deep breaths. "What time..." He muttered trying to track the clock hanging by the wall and soon his eyes landed on the clock reading the time at exactly 8:00 AM. It was already day and the sun was shining through the gap of the curtains.

"Ugh...." Damian groaned beside him, slowly sitting up and rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Danyal...?" Damian muttered his gaze landing on his brother beside him. "Hello.. morning..." was all Danny could mutter slowly catching up on his breathe. He fixed his eyes on the door suddenly as it opened, Dick entered the room to check on them and he froze upon seeing them finally awake.

"Oh my Fucking god— YOU'RE AWAKE!" Dick had tears in the edge of his eyes as he pulled both boys into a bear hug, dick trying his best not to cry of worry, "Unhand me Grayson! It is far too early for this!" Damian complained and tried to push Dick away but soon gave up, Danny just slowly softened and buried himself in the hug, loving the physical attention. "You've been both asleep for almost a week, Jesus Christ..." Dick just curses under his breathe, hugging them both tighter.

"You saved Bruce..." Danny perked up at his statement but soon realized he was looking at Damian, Danny was confused and Dick suddenly pulled Damian up and hugged the boy only. "C'mon Dami! You have to see Bruce! You saved him after all with that tip!" Dick dragged Damian, "I did not do anything GRAYSON!" Damian sneered and cried out looking back at Danny who's eyes were slowly losing it's light once more.

"Dan—" Damian was cut off by Dick suddenly tossing the boy in his arms and carrying him in his shoulder, "C'mon now Dami! Don't be shy about helping!" Dick exclaimed. Danny heard their footsteps slowly running far from the room.

Danny's breathe Hitched as he tried to hold back his tears, slowly lowering his head and his gaze landing on his hands. He buried his face in his hands as broken sobs soon broke through his defenses. "But... I'm the one who helped Tim..." He muttered under sniffled and muffled sobs. He slowly pulled on his head as he kept his head lowered on the blankets, slowly curling up on the bed kneeling still. "I was right.... No one... Loves me here..." Danny... Danyal cried out softly. His heart growing heavy the longer he cried.

Danyal laughed as he pulled on his hair and dragged his hand down his cheeks, leaving small red marks as he dug his fingers on his neck and slowly wrapping his arms around his shoulders letting himself fall back in bed, knowing he's been left and forgotten once again. He buried himself under the blanket and cried softly, muffling his sobs with the thickness of the blanket.

"I helped..." He says, feeling childish for being jealous and feeling that it was unfair that Damian is the One getting credit. He Felt childish, Undeserving. "Right... He's the superior Twin... It's inevitable." He scoffs, 'reminding' himself that he's not the loved twin for a reason, trying to tell himself that he's not worthy of their love because he's not someone even worthy of being Damian's Brother, not worthy of being an 'Al Ghul'. Let alone being worthy of being a 'Wayne'.

He just slowly closed his eyes letting tears flow out, "I miss my mom..." He softly mutters.

"I miss my family..."

Tags for the OP of this prompt and someone else lol:

@unadulteratedsoulsweets (OP)[I tried my best to recreate this OP]

And

@yoopsity <33

Masterlist

[mockerycrow]

Emergency Contact (2/2) (Ghost x GN!Reader)

-> PART ONE OF EMERGENCY CONTACT

Summary: You never expected Simon to come to your aid, and Simon assures you that he would come every single time.

A/N: I genuinely appreciate the support of this concept <3 I truly did not expect so many people to want a part two, so here it is! please rb with what you think, i love to hear y’all’s thoughts! i’m honestly not the happiest with this, but i did what i could. i may rewrite this in the future.

[WARNINGS: Hospital setting, fluff, hurt/comfort, medical inaccuracies, ooc Simon.]

IT TAKES YOU FOUR DAYS to wake up. Four entire days for you to even move an eye muscle. Four days of anxiety, of Simon lying in wait, waiting for sign of life. Despite the doctors’ assurances of your condition, the confirmed brain activity, Simon was panicking.

He just couldn’t lose you, too. Not when he has such a great thing going for him, so when he learns you’re in a mini coma—induced by your own body to allow your body to rest and heal, he can’t help but freak out. His mind screaming that you’ll never wake up, that you’ll always by lying in a hospital bed, until someone in your family decides to come and pull the plug. He tried to keep himself preoccupied—he read books and articles on his phone, memorized each time the nurses came in to check your vitals, he even texted Price an update about his situation—it wasn’t much information, but he said something along the lines of something happened at home and he thinks his leave with have to be for a month, but there’s a good chance it might be longer.

Simon barely left the room—he couldn’t. Not when at any moment you could wake up, or any moment you could’ve died. He didn’t manage much sleep, either. Every time he managed to fall asleep, the same nightmare would play; what he imagined how your accident went. He imagined you walking down on the sidewalk towards the crosswalk down a street you both frequented together. You were always careful when walking—he knew you were having car troubles for the last few weeks. You press the button on the crosswalk pole to trigger the lights to turn red. Cars slow to a stop, and your crosswalk signs turns to a walking man. You quickly hurry across the crosswalk, but a car comes speeding down—and smashes right into you, full speed, sending you across the road. Simon is just standing there, watching. Completely unable to help. He always wakes up once he walks up to your mangled body.

Simon gasps quietly and jolts awake again, blinking the bleariness away, and the slow beeps and exhales of your machines come back. His rapid heartbeat begins to slow as he realizes that he’s still beside your hospital bed. He looks at you—you’re no longer on a ventilator, but you have an oxygen mask, a way to help your collapsed lung. It makes him feel a bit better, but Simon would very much prefer your eyes to be open, your fingers moving against the blanket you’d likely hate the texture of when you woke up—if you woke up—and he would want to feel your muscles moving under your skin. He also tries to ignore the fear of you having Amnesia after waking up.

Simon isn’t sure when he laid his head back down, but it shoots back up the second he hears a quiet noise escape you—it’s the first sign of life to Simon, his wide eyes scanning your body. His eyes fly to your hand, your fingers twitching a bit. Simon grabs ahold of your twitching hand immediately and looks at your face and he isn’t so sure why his heart is pounding beneath his ribs, but he doesn’t have too much time to focus on it as your arm twitches. It’s like you’re slowly coming back to life in a weird way, but Simon finds himself totally silent, like he can’t find the right words to say just yet. He doesn’t mean to hold his breath, but he does as he watches your shoulder twitch next, and then your eyebrows furrow. Your eyes are already closed, but you squeeze your eyelids together harder. Simon realizes that you haven’t had your eyes open for about four days, so he quickly dims the rooms lights and returns right back next to you. Simon reaches for your hand and gently holds it, watching you slowly get your surroundings.

Your eye flutter open slowly and you blink, and it’s obvious you don’t immediately process that you’re in the hospital. A croaky moan of discomfort leaves you and Simon sits up, the worry eating at his stomach. You look at Simon with unfocused and exhausted eyes and your eyebrows furrow again and your lips part.

“..Simon?”

He releases the breath he was holding and he nods, his black mask slightly moving as his lips move. “I’m right here, [name]. Right here.” Simon absolutely hates how shaky his voice is, and he watches you bit your lip as your eyes begin to fill with tears. His heart skips a beat—what’s wrong? Are you in pain? Are you scared? Simon decides he needs to know because he can fix it, he can help you, right? He needs to fix it—“Y.. You came for me..” You whisper, blinking a tear rolls down your cheek to your jaw quickly. Simon’s own eyebrows furrowed—did you think he wouldn’t? “Of course I did, love.” He murmurs, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I will always come for you.” You try to hold in the quiet sob, but your shoulders begin to shake. Simon reaches up and gently wipes away a tear with his thumb while he squeezes your hand. “No tears now, hm? You’ve.. You’ve survived the impossible.” Simon says, forcing his voice to be steady. His eyes begin to burn with his own set of tears forming. “I came as soon as I heard, [name]. Don’t ever think I wouldn’t come for you.“

Your lower lip curls as you try to not cry from his sentiment; this is the man who took you in after losing everything, and it took him a long while to even let you know of his actual name, let alone see his face unmasked. This is the man who does not tell you the details of his job, but you know that he could be killed from it. This is the man who sits next to you near his windowsill when you both can’t sleep—the man who wakes up, just knowing something is up. He makes you a cup of your favorite morning drink whenever he can, he signs his sticky notes with a poorly drawn skull instead of his name, he makes piss poor dad and army type jokes, annoys you with his cockiness and bought you a damn mattress and bed-frame—even thought he never had to. He remembers the little things about you, your favorite shows and games—your favorite books, your favorite foods, hell, he remembers every little awful story about your workplace and your job. He’s always been like a wild animal—you come too close and he flees, but if you’re patient do what he needs, he’ll come to you.

Simon blinks away the tears and he clears his throat, his voice hesitant as he speaks. “You made me your emergency contact.” His tone isn’t questioning or warbling in any way—he says it like a statement, a fact, which it is. You laugh quietly which quickly turns into a grimace, causing Simon’s thumb to stop moving over your knuckles for a moment. Of course any movement or sound would hurt. “I.. I had to put one down, I just.. put the first person who came to mind.. Y’know?” You murmured nervously. Simon’s breath hitches for a moment and he only responds with a “mmh” for the time being, which definitely makes you way more nervous than you started out to feel. Your heart monitor spikes for a moment, causing Simon to speak up. “Hey—just relax, okay? M’not mad, love. Not mad at all,” He begins. He glances away from you for a moment before looking back with such a vulnerable look—like he’ll break at any moment. “It was just.. a surprise. That’s all.” But both of you know it was more than just a surprise. It was a small declaration of prioritizing each other—you setting him as the first person to be notified for an emergency, and his acceptance of this role. Simon never thought he would be sitting here, beside anyone else than his teammates in a hospital setting.

Simon isn’t sure when he fell in love with you. Whether it was the first moment he laid eyes on you or way later down the road—he doesn’t know. What he does know is that this.. feeling, isn’t as scary as it used to be. People getting close to him used to terrify him and it still does—but.. there’s something about you. Something about you that makes Simon feel safe. Makes him feel like he doesn’t have to sit in the corner to watch the entire room, you make him feel like he doesn’t have to sleep with a hunting knife stashed under his pillow. You make him feel like he doesn’t have to question your motives with anything you do, you make Simon feel like he can just sit down and relax without having to worry about, well.. anything else besides from the question of what you’ll have for dinner that night. He tries to hold in the shuddery breath and when he can’t, his eyes dart away to your arm. You open your lips to speak again, but you begin to cough. Simon grabs the paper cup of water that has a straw in it that he’s prepared for you everyday just in case you had woken up and he slots the straw between your lips, which you greedily accept and drink down the cold water. It soothes the ache in your throat from being on the ventilator and from not speaking for a couple of days. Once you’re satisfied, he places the cup back on the side table. “Hey, Si,” You croak, your fingers weakly squeezing his hand. Simon’s eyes immediately meet yours again, searching for any hint of pain. You lick your lips, a light smile coming to them. “Two blondes walk into a bar. You’d think one of ‘em would’ve seen it.” He stares at you for a moment, his eyebrows raising. “Did.. Did you just..” You laugh weakly and nod, looking at him. “I did.” You clear your throat again and squeeze his fingers. “Did it because you’re in your head.. Don’t hafta think so.. so much when you’re with me, Simon.”

Simon brushes his thumb over your knuckles once again and he can’t help but silently agree—he doesn’t have to think about anything right now, he can just sit here, with you—even if it’s in a place like this, with you in a condition like that. Simon looks at you and you look back at him, into his soul—and for the first time, he doesn’t want to look away.

taglist;; @alwaystired--neversleeping @handsomeunderwear-art @indefenseofkara @kaysav608 @1-is-loneliest-number @rosee-sensuelle @kitty-satan1 @k4marina @rahmown @royalty-purple @bowtruckleninja @cumikering @silent-neptune @purechaosss @hauntedpass @mxtokko @meimhem [crossed out = not able to tag sorry!]

[celestemona]

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐊𝐀𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐍 𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐔𝐏 𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍

a when they're dads au series.

pairing: dad & husband! kaedehara kazuha x fem! reader

cw: established relationship, you and kazuha are married and have children. original characters. domestic and parenting universe. quick mention of pregnant reader. slightly ooc to fit the plot. fluff and not beta read.

reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡

part i. | part ii.

Considering Kaedehara Kazuha’s reputation for his mild personality and free spirit, it was difficult for most to imagine the wandering samurai ever pausing his travels, let alone settling into the routines of a homely life.

So you can imagine the shock among fishing and sailing communities throughout Teyvat when whispers began to circulate—not only had Kazuha settled down, but he had also married and started a family.

At first, no one believed it. Surely, it must be some sort of prank.

That was until Captain Beidou, her cheeks flushed with rum, produced a photo to prove the rumors true. The image captured Kazuha’s wedding—a modest yet joyous celebration held by the Crux Fleet on a secluded island in Inazuma. In the photo, Kazuha gazed at you with such unmistakable love that it silenced all doubts.

As the night went on, barrels of rum and beer loosened Beidou’s tongue, and soon, she was regaling curious listeners with tales of your love story. She described how you quite literally fell from the sky into Kazuha’s arms, how your relationship blossomed, endured challenges, and culminated in a heartfelt proposal. She recounted how the two of you decided to rebuild the Kaedehara Clan together, leaving behind the open sea for a life that was quieter—but no less meaningful.

“Oh, and did I mention?” Beidou added with a mischievous grin. “They have three kids now!”

The crowd’s shock was palpable, their wide eyes demanding further details. Beidou, never one to shy away from a good story, obliged.

For Kazuha, this new chapter in his life was one he never thought possible. His teenage years had left him with deep scars, his relationship with his father fraught with tension and misunderstanding. Back at the time, leaving the Kaedehara estate had felt like his only option.

But time and distance had brought healing, and when Kazuha returned to his ancestral home with you by his side, he was overwhelmed not by sorrow, but by a sense of belonging. The estate, once a source of pain, now brimmed with warmth and life, thanks to you and the laughter of your three children.

Kiyomi, your middle child and only daughter is the heart of the family’s liveliness. With her extroverted and mischievous personality, she kept everyone on their toes. Neither you nor Kazuha knew where she had inherited such a fiery temperament, but her boundless energy often left you with gray hairs and Kazuha with an amused smile.

As the only girl in the family, Kiyomi was undoubtedly spoiled by her father, who adored her unconditionally. Her beauty was a perfect blend of your features and Kazuha’s, but what truly set her apart was her kind and stubborn heart.

Your eldest son, Kazumi, was the embodiment of his father. With his relaxed demeanor and serene smile, he was often mistaken for a younger Kazuha. However, Kazumi carried a deep sense of responsibility as the eldest sibling, always keeping a watchful eye on Kiyomi and Haruki.

At the age of ten, Kazumi had already begun learning the Isshin Art from Kazuha. Though he mastered its techniques with ease, he preferred to follow his own path rather than dedicate himself entirely to bladesmithing.

Last but not least, your youngest, Haruki, was the family’s surprise blessing. Born on an autumn morning, he arrived into the world fragile and unwell. Those early months were filled with sleepless nights and anxious hearts, but with the help of friends—including Beidou, Traveler, and even Yae Miko—Haruki eventually grew into a healthy and vibrant child.

Unlike his siblings, who were often found running around the estate, Haruki was introspective and studious. From a young age, he displayed an insatiable curiosity, devouring books and scrolls that even scholars would find daunting.

When asked about his new life, Kazuha often reflected on how vastly different it was from the one he had once envisioned. There was always something to worry about, the days rarely deviated from routine, and the call of the open road still stirred within him from time to time.

Yet, as he watched you and the children, he knew he wouldn’t trade this life for anything. The love he shared with you, the joy of raising a family, and the warmth of a home filled with laughter and belonging—this was the greatest adventure of all.

For Kazuha, every day with you was a journey worth taking, and there was no horizon more beautiful than the one he shared with you by his side.

.

.

a/n: i must confess that i have this plot on my drafts for almost two years now but i’ve never found will enough on myself to sit down and write it. nevertheless, i’m thankful for my mind to remind me of this plot and make me re-write new ideas.

those who knows me, or not, must’ve know that i really do love parenting, domestic and pregnancy universe so not so often i caught myself writing about it. it’s so relaxing and enjoyable to picture these guys as dad idk.

i hope you’ve liked it so far. i would like to share more about this headcanon in the future, so let me know if you want to learn more about the kaedehara clan. thank you so much, bye!

[buckyalpine]

Okaaay! How can you write perfect imagines like that ! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ Now I cant help to send you another idea and I'M NOT SORRY!

Another Bucky one, where you’re kinda their technician and support the Avengers out of the IT section of the compound when they are on the field. But Bucky also thinks you should learn how to self-defense yourself just in case, but you always refuse. One time you finally give in and he starts training private with you, which one time leads you falling and landing on top of him. instead of getting up, he pulls you closer and kisses you and even carries you to his room to make sweet love. Afterwards he’s a huge cuddler and you both confess your feelings ? I LOVE YOU 😊

I LOVE YOU I LOVE THIS I LOVE IT ALL, give me some sweet, soft Bucky loving his shy girl. (also bb, idek if you remember sending me this considering how long I've taken, IM SO SORRY, I hope I did this justice). Ugh, I love this type of smut, lowkey a weakness.

You breathed out a sigh of relief, setting down your headset after navigating the team through the building they had to break into, infiltrating the security system from your place in the Avengers tower. You guided them down the halls, alerting them of any potential hazards that were to be expected, carefully watching four different screens at once so you had eyes on all of them.

"Couldn't do this without ya short cake, see you soon" Tony's voice crackled through the coms, making you giggle before signing out. You loved your job with the Avengers, helping them on the field through the latest Stark technology, safe in your IT lab. You never had to worry about skills or getting injured because you didn't have to go out onto the field, at most, having to worry about the wifi ever slowing down at the wrong time (though there were plenty of back up softwares in place).

The familiar sounds of boots softly thudding down the hall made your heart flutter, peeking up from your place behind the computer to see Bucky walk into the lab, still in his tactical gear. He didn't seem fazed by the cut that was bleeding from his forehead; at the very least that seemed to be his only injury.

"You saved our asses again" Bucky grinned while you shook your head, taking his hand and making him sit at your desk, pulling out a first aid kit to take care of a gash that was cut across his eyebrow.

"And you're still bleeding" You gently dabbed a cotton ball to his eyebrow, carefully blowing away the sting after.

"Just a scratch doll" Bucky shrugged, letting you clean up the cut, the serum already starting to heal it. "How were things here"

"The usual, made some tea, watched your mission online, nothing exciting"

Bucky hummed, bringing up the same thing he always did after getting back from a mission without fail.

"Maybe you should learn some self-defense doll" He peeked an eye open, meeting yours while you put a final band aid on the side of his forehead just above his brow. "Just in case. Can't have anything happening to our favorite little short cake"

"I'm perfectly safe in the lab, Bucky" You replied, his words making your cheeks heat up, brushing them off as his usual playful teasing. This wasn't the first time Buck had suggested you learn self defense and you always shut it down.

"C'mon. I'll teach you, give you a private lesson. I'll be gentle" He prodded further, being dead serious in his offer. Sure you were safe at the tower but should anything happen, he wanted you to be able to take care of yourself if necessary.

"Bucky-

"It'll be good for you! What if someone broke into the compound when we aren't here"

"Bucky-

"Or if aliens attack. It literally happened last month. Remember that big purple ball sack-

"Bucky-

"Or if you're just walking down the street and someone tries to steal your purse"

"James-

"Pleaaseeee" Bucky gave you his final puppy pout, eyes wide, his bottom lip jutting out until you finally huffed, butterflies fluttering around you tummy.

"Just once" You agreed, feeling like you'd been lit on fire at the handsome smile he gave you, deciding to meet up twice a week at the gym for training. You felt nervous, seeing as you'd never had to use self-defense in your life. You weren't exactly coordinated for fighting and even though you were learning you didn't want to look like a complete fool in front of Bucky of all people.

-

You nervously made your way to the gym, surprised to find it empty with just Bucky waiting for you at the mats. You were expecting to find it full with the others training as well.

"Is it just us here?" You asked as he held his hand out, helping you under the ropes.

"Booked the gym just for us doll, we have it for an hour so you don't have to worry about anyone else" He smiled warmly, hoping the blush on his cheeks wasn't obvious, not wanting to seem like a creep. He really did want to train you, but he couldn't help the inkling of excitement he felt getting to help his crush.

You were surprised at what a gentleman he was. Training went surprisingly well; Bucky started off with easy moves, always warming up and helping you stretch first. It didn't help that you were flustered each time, usually slipping or tripping because you were caught up in his blue eyes or pink lips, the scent of his cologne always making you woozy.

He caught you every single time, setting you back on your feet with ease, praising what a good job you were doing whenever you did something well and encouraging you when he showed you something more challenging.

"Alright, today you're going to attack me" Bucky stated while you stared at his wide eyed, shaking your head.

"Bucky, I'm not sure I can-

"Yes you can short cake, c'mon, show me what you've got" He threw you a playful smirk, taking a few steps back and getting into position. You gulped, shaking off your nerves before steadying yourself, remembering everything he'd taught you. It didn't help that he'd decided to leave his shirt behind, his sculped body nearly taunting you from focusing. You launched yourself at him, managing to land a hit near his ribs before he caught you, gently grabbing your arm and holding it in place.

"Good job doll, now you're going to try and get out of this and attack again". Bucky's voice was strained, struggling with all his might to keep from blushing more, the scent of your shampoo and the softness of your skin making him giddy. With each training session, he was falling more and more for you, your shy giggles and smiles making his school boy crush worse.

You tried to focus on getting out of his hold instead of the fact that you were pressed tightly against him with your back to his chest, his warm breath fanning against your cheek, the coolness of his arm making you shiver. You wriggled around, slipping out and lunging forward again. You couldn't recall the exact sequence of steps Bucky had taught you, asking him while still moving.

"Do you think I should-ops-" You squeaked, losing your footing, crashing right into the soldier, sending you both onto the floor, landing right on top of Bucky. Bucky caught you, hands firmly on your waist while your eyes grew wide as your nose nearly brushed against his, chest pressed right onto him. You were frozen in place as the the tension grew thick, his baby blues daring to your lips before looking at you again, your sweet face centimeters from his, all he had to do was just-

Before he could stop himself, he pressed his lips against yours, smirking at the surprised gasp you let out before melted into him, eyes closing when you left his tongue softly trace along your lips. You lost yourself into the kiss, gasping again when he handled you with ease, standing with your legs wrapped around his waist, holding you securely. Your heart hammered against as he made his way towards to the gym doors, his arm supporting your ass while the the other cupped your face to kiss you again.

"Wanted to do that for so long short cake" Bucky shyly smiled, pressing the button of the elevator to take you right to his room, leaning in again for another kiss. You giggled, kissing him right back, tugging on his dogtags, not breaking away from each other until you were in the privacy of his room, gasping for air.

Bucky gently nudged the door shut, laying you down softly on the bed, lying on top of you, brushing your hair away from your face.

"Hi" He gave you a boyish smile, nuzzling his nose against your cheek, coaxing you to look at him when you tried to shy away, still in shock you had kissed Bucky and now you were in his room.

"Hi" You whispered, biting your lip feeling his hand softly stroke your waist, the both of you lost in each other again. You sucked in a breath before pressing a kiss to his cheek, blinking up at him to see if it was okay.

"So soft" He hummed, stroking up your thigh to your waist when your hitched your leg over him desperately wanting him closer. "My pretty short cake" Bucky didn't rush, the both of you innocently kissing on his bed, not leaving an inch of skin untouched with hands exploring each others bodies. Your stomach flipped when you felt his erection press against your tummy, the deep blush on his cheeks making you fall for him so much more.

"Is this okay?" Bucky asked, toying with the hem of your shirt, waiting for your permission before going any further.

"Please Bucky" Your voice was needy, craving to be closer, warmth pooling in your panties at the sight of his bulge straining in his grey joggers. He took his time undressing you, taking your hands in his and pulling you up so he could take your top off, tossing your sports bra aside immediately after. You lifted your hips up, letting him pull your shorts and panties off in one go, feeling exposed, your legs shut tightly together. As much as he wanted to admire your pretty body, Bucky kept his eyes on your face, smiling at you reassuringly while you covered yourself with his sheets.

He threw his clothes off before joining you under the covers, laying on top of you again, this time letting his kisses trail to others places. You let your hands cling onto his muscular shoulders while he kissed down your neck and across your chest, making his way to your peaked nipples, taking one into his mouth. You bit your lip to hold back your moan, hardly realizing you'd spread your legs for him, the slick between your folds making a mess between the sheets.

His cock leaked against your thigh each time you whined, his tongue drawing circles around your softness, pulling off so he could pay attention to the other. His thumb came up to flick your nipples, groaning when he felt your hand come to play with his hair, his hips rutting against the bed.

He continued to kiss down your body, nipping your tummy before settling between your legs, licking your sensitive inner thighs before spreading your folds apart and kissing your clit.

"So sweet doll" He whispered as he began to gently suckle, moaning when you whimpered, his arm slinging over your hips to keep you from squirming.

"Oh-B-Bucky!" You gasped, the band in your belly already starting to tighten as he drew circles, his lips sealed around your sensitive nub, nursing from you with the most soft, gently gurgles, his beard soaked with your juiced. "Bucky-I-I'm gonna-

"Come for me short cake, lemme taste all of you" Bucky went right back in, the sound of your moans growing louder making his cock throb, restraining himself from humping the bed knowing damn well he'd blow his load if he moved the slightest. You came all over Bucky's face, covering your face with your arm when he crawled back up with a grin, your arousal glistening off his lips.

"All shy for me now doll?" He purred, moving your arm away so he could kiss you deeply. You could feel his painfully hard cock pressed against you reaching down to stroke him.

"Fuck" Bucky hissed, his eyes rolling back, involuntarily thrusting forward into your hand, a drop of precum falling onto your skin. The sight alone send another wave of arousal gushing between your legs, feeling more empty than ever, feeling his thick velvety shaft fuck your hand.

"Can-can I?" You were too shy to say it but you wanted to make Bucky feel good too, his perfect pink glistening cockhead begging to be sucked, all leaky and swollen.

"You have no idea how much I'd love that but I just-I really wanna be inside you baby" Bucky panted, letting out a strained chuckle knowing damn well he wouldn't last if he saw your sweet doe eyes looking up at him with your mouth filled with cock, much less actually feeling your tongue. "Is this okay?"

He pumped his cock a few times, swiping it along your folds, his weeping tip catching against your fluttering hole.

"Will-will it fit?" you bit your lip, bringing your legs to wrap around his waist, your arms slinging around his shoulders, wrapping yourself around him.

"Told you I'd be gentle" Bucky smiled softly, kissing your cheek as he started to push in, swallowing your gasp as he began stretched you. "Fuck you feel so good" Bucky moaned softly, continued to give you every inch until he bottomed out, stilling so you could adjust.

"Everything okay?" He looked at you with concern, wrapping your body protectively against his.

"Feels good Bucky" you nodded, your voice melting into a moan as he started to move, pulling his hips back slowly and thrusting forward again, keeping a steady motion, letting you feel every bit of him inside you. He reached places you'd never felt before, shamelessly getting louder, digging your nails into his skin when he moved faster, desperate to give you as much pleasure as he could.

"Wanted this for so long doll, y'know that? How long I wanted to make love to you?" He confessed, grinding his hips, barely pulling out, his full, heavy balls pressed against your ass. "Make you feel so good pretty girl, take care of my sweet little short cake who always looks out for me"

"Please don't stop Bucky!" You begged, squeezing his cock, your pussy pulling him back in each time he pulled out, nearly tearing up at his words. "Don't-oh god-Bucky, don't-stop!"

"I know baby, I know" Bucky cooed, "Shhh, feels good, doesn't it? Is that all babygirl? Does it feel good?" His thrusts grew more powerful until he was pounding you into the matters, pouring every bit of his feelings into his strokes, the feeling of your body wrapped around his driving him closer to his own climax.

"Feels-good-so-good" you hiccupped between a whine, crying out when he brought his knee up to fuck you deeper, hitting a different angle. "RIGHT THERE BUCKY"

"That's it angel, I know baby, that's your spot, doing so good for me, think you can give me one more doll? Cum one more time for me?"

"Y-yeah!" You wailed, your back arching off the bed as he brought his hand between your bodies, rubbing your clit with soft circles, adding more pressure between snapping his hips. "I'm gonna cum Bucky!!"

"My good girl, makes me so hard when you say my name baby, cum for me angel, cum on my cock, don't stop till you cream all over me baby, I got you" He held you tighter, your head tucked into the crook of his arm while he cradled you, his other hand still rubbing you. His pace didn't faster, panting, desperately holding his own orgasm off, your brows knitting together, jaw slack, sweat covering your skin.

"You look so pretty like this babygirl, fuck, gonna make me cum y/n" He practically whined, moaning loudly with you when he started to feel you milk his cock, fluttering and squeezing him as your orgasm washed over you.

"BUCKKYY" You screamed his name as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm, his movements growing sloppy.

"You feel so good doll, so so good, sweetheart-fuck-I'm cumming" Bucky moaned against your neck, stilling as his cock started to throb, his warmth splashing against your cervix. He rocked his hips a few more times till he was milked dry, collapsing into your arms and rolling over so he could pull the covers over you both.

-

You giggled to yourself, tucked snuggly in Bucky's thick arms, your cheek pressed right against his warm chest. Neither if you had spoken a word yet, basking in a post sex haze, cozy and content in each others embrace.

"What's so funny short cake" Bucky whispered, tipping your chin up to meet his twinkling eyes, a dusting of pink still covering his cheeks.

"You're so cuddly for a big scary assassin" You teased, while he chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"S'not my fault" He playfully pouted before squeezing you tighter. "Can you blame me? Look at who I get to cuddle with"

You smiled, resting your head on his chest again, tracing invisible shapes onto his skin while he stroked your back, his heart starting to beat faster as he began to speak again.

"This-what happened between us-

You froze, stopping your ministrations, dread pooling in your chest over Bucky's words.

Had you misread the situation?

Oh god, you did, he didn't actually like you, you-

"It wasn't just a one time thing for me. I've liked you for a long time short cake-" Your spiral stopped immediately, looking at him with wide eyes, only to find him nervously chewing his bottom lip raw. "I don't- I don't know if you feel the same way but I'd love for you to be mine-if you'd have me"

His last words melted into a whisper, still looking at you with precious shyness, your heart ready to burst out of your chest at how soft he was for you. Your surprised him, smashing your lips against his, the adorable squeak slipping past his lips turning into a groan.

"You like me?" You grew bashful, tucking your face into his neck, giving the young soldier his confidence back, a smirk playing on his lips. "Like me like me?"

"Course darlin' you're my best girl" He kissed your forehead before rolling you over and attacking you with kisses again, the both of you grinning at each other with heart eyes,

"My favorite little short cake"

"My Bucky bear"

[itacats]

Butcher Shop Connection

FT: Simon x gn!reader

Warnings: DV, abuse, please let me know if anything else should be here!🙏

SUM: A quiet butcher named Simon finds his routine shaken by a regular customer whose shy demeanor masks a darker secret. Drawn to their kindness, Simon discovers troubling truths about their life, including a dangerous and abusive partner.

As tension builds, Simon is thrust into a harrowing situation where his loyalty and courage are tested. Lines blur between protector and avenger, as a late-night call for help leads to a violent reckoning.

The story weaves themes of resilience, healing, and the lengths one will go to safeguard someone they care about, culminating in a final confrontation that promises justice—and a chance at a new beginning.

A/N: Welcome to my newest installment, a story that dives deep into resilience, love, and the fight for safety and freedom. This series is both an emotional journey and a thrilling ride, weaving moments of quiet vulnerability with intense, heart-pounding confrontations.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Part 1 - Butcher's Charm

The door swings open with a soft creak, the cheerful chime of the bell overhead ringing out like a friendly greeting. It’s the kind of sound that makes you feel seen, welcomed, part of a world warmer than your own. The butcher shop smells as it always does: a heady blend of freshly cut meats, earthy herbs, and the subtle, comforting tang of smoked sausages hanging in the display. It’s a place that feels alive—bustling yet intimate, orderly yet full of charm.

Your gaze sweeps over the familiar surroundings, the polished glass counters gleaming under the golden afternoon light streaming in through the wide storefront window. Behind the counter stands Simon, his figure both unassuming and magnetic. He’s wearing his usual dark apron, the fabric smeared with streaks of blood and marinade, his sleeves rolled up just enough to expose the edges of tattoos that peek out like secrets.

The sight of him brings a smile to your lips. It always does.

“Hey there! The usual?” Simon asks as you approach the counter. His voice is deep, smooth, and unhurried, carrying a warmth that seems to settle the frayed edges of your mind. His eyes catch yours, and the corners of his lips lift in a shy smile that hints at a deeper, quieter affection he seems almost afraid to show.

“Yeah, the usual,” you reply, trying to keep your voice casual. But the flutter in your stomach betrays you, as it does every time.

Simon moves with practiced ease, pulling the knife from his station and making clean, precise cuts into the slab of meat on the cutting board. It’s mesmerizing to watch him work. Each movement is a dance of skill and confidence, his hands steady and deliberate. Those hands—they tell a story. The scars scattered across his knuckles and fingers speak of mistakes learned from, the faded tattoos of a life lived in vibrant bursts, the slight tremor in his right wrist of long hours and hard-earned experience.

He glances up at you as he wraps your order, his expression soft and attentive. "Anything else today?" he asks, the question lingering like an invitation.

You shake your head, trying not to linger too long on the way he looks at you, as if you’re the only person in the world. “No, this is great. Thanks, Simon.”

He hands you the package, his fingers brushing yours for the briefest moment—a fleeting touch that leaves your pulse racing. You catch the way his gaze lingers, like he’s searching for something, but before either of you can speak again, the bell rings, and another customer walks in.

As you turn to leave, you glance over your shoulder. He’s still watching you, his shy smile now tinged with a quiet longing that makes your chest tighten.

Simon’s days are long, filled with the constant rhythm of knives slicing through flesh and bone, the hum of the cooler, the occasional clatter of metal trays. He loves his work, but it’s repetitive, a steady drumbeat in a life that once felt more unpredictable.

And then you walked in.

He remembers the first time he saw you, how your laughter bubbled over as you joked with him about the weather. You were bright, a spark in the monotony, and though he’d stumbled over his words that day, he’s gotten better at hiding how flustered you make him feel. Each time you visit, he finds himself lingering over your conversations, replaying the way you say his name or how your eyes light up when he teases you with a dry joke.

But Simon’s never been one to take risks when it comes to his heart. He’s spent years guarding it, locking away his past—the late nights in dive bars, the fights that left his hands bloodied and his spirit bruised. He’s a man remade, quieter now, content to find peace in his craft and the simple pleasures of routine.

And yet, here you are, stirring something in him that feels like both a risk and a refuge.

You leave the shop with your neatly wrapped package in hand, but your thoughts are still with Simon. There’s something about him—the way he’s steady but not stagnant, reserved but not cold—that pulls you back, week after week.

Over the months, you’ve pieced together fragments of his story. The tattoos on his forearms, faded and slightly smudged, hint at a wilder youth. The small scar on his cheek, which he once told you was from an accident in his first week as a butcher. The way he talks about his grandmother’s recipes, his voice softening with nostalgia, makes you wonder what kind of family shaped him into the man he is now.

And then there’s the way he looks at you. It’s a look that makes you feel seen in a way that’s both exhilarating and terrifying, as though he’s peeling back the layers of who you are and seeing the raw, vulnerable core.

You wish you had the courage to let him in. But courage is hard to muster when your life is split between the warmth of moments like these and the icy grip of what waits for you at home.

As you climb into your car and start the engine, you glance back toward the shop. Through the window, you see Simon helping another customer, his hands moving with the same practiced precision. For a moment, you allow yourself to imagine what it would be like to linger in that warmth a little longer, to let him know the parts of you that you’ve kept hidden.

But for now, the thought is enough.

Here's the current post schedule with some upcoming stories to look forward to!

[rafedarling]

What about single dad Drew with like his 3 year old baby girl who looks just like him. And he’s her favorite person on either and she’s his 🥺

𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬

pairing: none, just single dad!drew

summary: drew is a single father to his three-year-old daughter, lila, who is the spitting image of him. with her big blue eyes and a curious smile that matches his, they share an unbreakable bond. lila’s love for her father is as fierce as his devotion to her, and every moment they spend together becomes a memory drew treasures. through the little joys and challenges of parenthood, drew learns that being a father is the greatest role he’s ever had. but most of all, he discovers that the pure love of his daughter can heal wounds he didn’t even know were still open.

warning(s): fluff, emotional family bonding, mentions of single parenthood, brief reference to past heartache (lila’s mother is absent).

au’s: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. taglist | tagging: @rafeyslamb @tracymbcm @enjoymyloves @akobx @rubixgsworld @xoxohoneymoongirl @mileyraes @maybankslover @noobmazter69 @littlelamy @wearemadeofstardust0 @xoxosblogsblog @saviorcomplexrry @bisexualcvnt @stuffyownswrld @anamiad00msday

It was one of those mornings that began with slow and gentle, Drew stirred in his sleep, groaning slightly as he felt the small, familiar weight of his daughter beside him.

Lila had crawled into bed with him sometime during the night, the way she always did when she had a bad dream or just wanted to be close to her daddy. Drew never minded. In fact, it had become one of his favorite parts of the day—waking up with her warm little body tucked against his side.

“Daddy,” Lila’s sleepy voice whispered, barely more than a breath as she wiggled closer.

Drew blinked his eyes open, his vision blurry from sleep, but he didn’t need to see to know it was her. He could recognize the feel of her curls against his arm, the smell of her lavender baby shampoo, and the soft sound of her breathing.

“Morning, princess,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. He glanced down and saw her big blue eyes looking up at him—eyes that mirrored his own so perfectly, it always made him pause. He smiled sleepily, brushing her unruly curls out of her face.

Lila giggled, her little hand resting against his cheek. She was always doing that, always touching him, like she needed the reassurance that he was there, that he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Daddy, I had a dream,” she said, her voice serious as if she was about to impart some great wisdom.

“Oh yeah?” Drew replied, feigning interest, knowing the dream was probably something nonsensical. “What was it about?”

“There was a unicorn,” Lila began, her eyes wide with excitement. “And he was pink! And he could fly, and we went to space, and there were lots of stars. And then you came and helped me catch them.”

Drew’s heart melted as he listened to her. Her imagination always amazed him, the way she could create entire worlds in her mind. “Wow, that sounds like a great dream. You caught the stars, huh?”

Lila nodded vigorously, her curls bouncing with the motion. “Yep! And I saved one for you.”

Drew smiled, pulling her closer and kissing the top of her head. “Thank you, princess. I love it.”

Lila beamed, proud of her imaginary star-catching prowess, then her stomach growled, and she let out a tiny giggle.

“You hungry, huh?” Drew chuckled.

“Mmhmm. Can we have eggs, Daddy? And toast?” Lila asked, her voice bright with anticipation.

“Eggs and toast coming right up,” Drew said, lifting her effortlessly into his arms and carrying her toward the kitchen. She clung to him, her tiny arms wrapped around his neck, her cheek pressed against his chest. There was something about the way she held onto him—like he was her whole world, and in truth, she was his.

In the kitchen, Lila hopped onto her usual spot at the counter, kneeling on the stool as Drew began preparing breakfast. She had taken to watching him cook with the same focus and attention that she gave her favorite cartoons.

“Can I help?” she asked, her little legs swinging as she leaned forward eagerly.

Drew smiled over his shoulder at her. “Of course, chef. I’ll let you stir the eggs, okay?”

Lila grinned widely, proud of her role in their breakfast routine. She stood up on her stool, bouncing a little as Drew handed her the whisk. With intense concentration, she began stirring the eggs, her little hand gripping the whisk as she moved it back and forth in the bowl. Drew watched her with quiet amusement, amazed at how even something as simple as stirring eggs could make her so happy.

“You’re doing great, Lila,” Drew said, placing a hand on her back to steady her as she leaned too far forward.

“I’m a good cooker, Daddy,” she declared, her tone full of self-assuredness.

“You are,” Drew agreed, chuckling softly as he took over, scrambling the eggs in the pan. He added some diced tomatoes and a sprinkle of cheese, knowing Lila loved the little bursts of flavor.

“Can we have juice too?” Lila asked, eyes wide and hopeful.

“Juice coming up,” Drew replied, reaching into the fridge for her favorite—apple juice. He poured some into her tiny cup, the one with the little dinosaurs on it that she always insisted on using.

“Yay!” Lila cheered, clapping her hands together.

When the eggs and toast were done, Drew carried the plates to the table and helped Lila into her seat. She immediately dug into her food, her face lighting up with each bite.

“Daddy, these are the best eggs ever,” she said between mouthfuls, crumbs gathering on her lips.

“Glad you like ‘em,” Drew said, shaking his head with a smile. He could never get over how much joy she found in the simplest things. It was one of the many things about Lila that made his heart ache with love.

They ate in comfortable silence, the sound of Lila’s chatter and the clinking of plates filling the room. Drew sipped his coffee, feeling that familiar warmth settle in his chest. He had always heard that being a parent changed your life, but nothing could have prepared him for just how much his heart would expand for this little person sitting across from him.

Lila finished her breakfast with an exaggerated sigh of satisfaction, then leaned back in her chair, her legs still swinging back and forth beneath the table.

“What are we gonna do today, Daddy?” she asked, her voice full of curiosity.

Drew thought for a moment, considering their usual weekend routines. It was Saturday, and Saturdays were their special days—days meant for playground visits, spontaneous adventures, and all the cuddles in the world.

“Well,” Drew began, wiping her sticky face with a napkin. “How about we go to the park, and then maybe we can make some art when we get back? What do you think?”

Lila’s eyes lit up. “The park! And can we make a rainbow? I wanna paint a rainbow.”

“Deal,” Drew said, laughing softly. “Park first, rainbow later.”

Lila bounced excitedly in her chair, unable to contain her excitement. “Let’s go, Daddy! Let’s go now!”

Drew stood and started to clean up the plates, but Lila had already darted off to grab her shoes from the hallway. He shook his head, marveling at her boundless energy, and followed her, grabbing her tiny pink jacket from the hook by the door.

At the park, Lila ran ahead, her tiny legs carrying her as fast as they could toward the swings. Drew trailed behind her, his eyes never leaving her. She was so small, yet so full of life, and watching her made him feel like the luckiest person in the world.

“Push me, Daddy!” she called out as she climbed onto the swing, her little feet dangling as she gripped the chains tightly.

Drew jogged over and gave her a gentle push, smiling as she squealed in delight. The sound of her laughter filled the air, and Drew felt the now-familiar swell of pride and love wash over him.

Lila was everything to him. Every smile, every laugh, every tiny hand held in his—it all reminded him that he was exactly where he needed to be. He may not have planned to raise her on his own, but the moment she came into his life, everything else faded into the background.

“Higher, Daddy!” Lila begged, her laughter bubbling up again.

Drew obliged, giving the swing another push. Her laughter rang out louder, her curls flying wildly around her face.

He couldn’t help but smile, knowing that no matter how fast life moved, moments like these would always be his favorite.

By the time they made it home, Lila was beginning to slow down, her earlier energy now spent. They spent the afternoon painting rainbows at the kitchen table—Lila’s small hands making a mess of the watercolors while Drew watched her with soft eyes.

Her rainbow was more of a colorful blob by the time she finished, but to Drew, it was a masterpiece.

“Look, Daddy! I made it for you,” she said, holding up her painting proudly.

Drew took it from her, his heart swelling. “It’s perfect, Lila. Just like you.”

Later, as the evening crept in, Drew tucked Lila into her bed, her soft whispers filling the quiet room. “Daddy, can you stay with me?” she asked, her small hand reaching out for his.

Drew smiled, crawling into the bed beside her. “Always, princess. Always.”

[mr-ys-phantasma]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1554

Finale I - part 2/3 (Agatha X Reader ending):

You did not fear death. At least not anymore.

Agatha was clearly hesitating, You were the one person she could not lose. But she could not give herself up either.

It annoyed her how you were not letting Billy take the fall for all of you. It was that simple, and yes, it was cruel, but this was life.

You would learn to live with it.

Billy looked at you, and he knew you were serious. Yet he could not let you do this. You were the last person to deserve such fate.

And so, he directed his attention on Agatha as he tried hard; a part of him hoping the Road and even this final battle was enough to truly help him connect with her.

He looked at her and eventually managed to connect with her telepathically. He finally managed to bypass any barriers and mental walls she had raised, a result of her magic and training across the centuries.

'Agatha', he called in her mind. The purple witch did an excellent job at hising her surprise, not expecting to hear anyone in her mind; let alone him. 'Is this what happened to Nicky?' He dared to ask.

His question hit Agatha harder than any of Rio's attacks. She knew this was not what happened to their son, and yet, she could not help but feel this... guilt and pain.

Nicky wouldn't want her to sacrifice one more soul to Rio, and he sure wouldn't want you to stay behind or take the fall for everyone.

He always had a soft spot for you.

As Agatha looked at the serious you with the glass shard still in your hands, she made a decision... one, she most likely won't live to regret it.

With silent steps, Agatha started to walk towards her former lover and spread her arms, inviting her into her embrace.

Rio took notice, and yet she did not fight this subconscious need to be in Agatha's arms. She did not expect her lover to hold her face gently and then initiate a kiss; even though she was almost always the one to do so.

Billy stared in surprise, not expecting such a move. All he could do was stare, his mind taking a little longer to realize Agatha's true plan.

You didn't, though, and once you spotted the faint, green veins on Agatha's cheeks; you knew what she was doing.

Your eyes opened wide in surprise, disbelief following after along with fear; as your body and heart processed the intense emotions caused by that kiss...

Or better say, Agatha's reckless and selfless plan.

"No," you exclaimed weakly and stopped putting your magic into healing your wound.

You stared as faint green veins spread across Agatha's cheek, Rio's magic entering her body. Black magic flared in response and started to wrap around the two lovers as Agatha's skin started to turn paler and paler.

Rio understood it too, but she could not stop, her magic already affecting Agatha. She kept the kiss, a single tear trailing down her cheek as she realized what Agatha was doing and how she had chosen to end this all... her noble sacrifice.

Rio couldn't stop, but you could, or so your subconscious thought.

For the second the two lovers parted lips, your scream echoed across the backyard as your white magic went out of control. Forming a bright white wave, it expanded circulalry all around you; tossing Billy back but also Rio.

Agatha had already started to levitate, black magic tendrils sucking her life away but quickly disappeared as the force of your white magic obliterated them.

You sprinted on your feet, running on Agatha's body that was now laying on the grass; skin turning paler as time was almost up.

You knelt and placed her head on your lap, both hands holding her cheeks as your white magic glowed and tried to help save your lover.

"It's no use." Rio said as she recovered from your outburst, looking with a saddened look at the sight in front of her. "She took my power. She will die."

This was not how she wanted Agatha to go, and if Rio could do something about it, she would. But the damage had already been done, and it could not be reversed.

Not by her.

You did not even look at Rio, your eyesight blurry from all the tears you failed to hold back as you kept trying to save Agatha; but your magic only seemed slowing down her death... not stopping it.

"I was created to stop her," your bottom lip trembled as you fought back a sob. "Yet I chose to join her... If this means I can save her and if I fail and die... then Agatha and I can be together."

With one last try, with one last spark of hope within; you bent down and kissed Agatha. Your eyes closed as you focused on the kiss, the familiar sensation of her lips against yours fueling the pain in your heart, but you kept going.

Your magic entered her body through the kiss, its powerful energy quickly meeting Rio's darker one; the two forces fighting but ultimately... yours was slowly purifying the toxic for Agatha magic that your lover had willingly absorbed.

Your hands and your body glowed with magic, it's shine so bright that could be seen from the curious humans neighbours that stood in their yards; having noticed the changing sky but having no clue what was taking place.

Usually, your pure magic would harm Agatha; whose dark magic had formed and stained her body even though Wanda drained her. But now, your magic was busy fighting something else, and while winning; it was weakening.

At last, the white glow started to die as an ethereal wave of white magic was flowing gently around you; a semi transparent dom that kept you and your lover within.

And as that magic was fading away, Billy and Rio could see the result of your actions.

You gently pulled back, feeling drained and exhausted; as if you had been fighting for your life for days, little to no energy left to sustain you.

Yet it was all worth it as you looked at Agatha, her hair now a pure white; a side effect of your power. But the colour had returned to her cheeks, her blue eyes glowing with life.

You could not help but smile weakly as you watched her and she watched you. Her hand moved, fingers caressing your cheek in a sweet way, and you leaned on them.

You tried to stand up slowly to give Agatha space and also join you. Your knees felt weak, and as you tried to take a step back, your body gave up on you.

You stared to fall to the side; too weak to remain standing.

Rio was quick to catch you, gently supiering your body with hers; arms protectively holding you, preventing you from slipping off her embrace.

Agatha weakly managed to slowly push her body up; still trying to recover from almost dying and also the remnants of your magic residing within her.

"Leave her alone, Rio," she said weakly, worrying for your well-being after pulling such a stant.

Rio glanced at Agatha but was more focused on you, your breathing silent and your eyes fighting to stay open.

"You stupid girl, giving your gift away like that," she told you.

You smiled weakly, feeling proud that you did and having no regrets.

"And I will keep doing it until you let us all go," you replied weakly, stubborn as ever.

Rio glanced at the new moon above and then at you before leaving out a heavy sigh.

"You are lucky your soul is not mine to reap, babygirl." she pecked your forehead and helped you remain steady on your legs.

Billy, at the same time, helped Agatha to stand; looking with confusion at Rio.

The green witch kept her arm around your waist, unsure if you could stand on your own yet. She looked at Agatha. "One life, no more cheating death," she then looked at Billy. "No more body jumping. When the time comes, no fighting"

Perhaps this was not what the rules said... but not everything was set in stone. Exceptions could be made, at least partially; little loopholes in the grand plan

Rio did it before, and from the looks of it, she had to do it again. She would never admit it, but deep down, she did not truly mind.

You and Agatha muttered too much to lose you so early, especially when, from the looks of it; relationships might have been mended, at least partially.

Billy and Agatha nodded, not wanting to chase their luck further or risk one of you dying for good this time.

Of course, Billy, being the curious boy he was; had to ask one more thing.

"Rio," he called her, trying not to feel intimidated by her sharp look. "I... " he cleared his throat. "What did you mean with what you said? About not being able to take Y/N's soul?"

Lady Death smirked faintly, her fingers gently caressing your cheek. "She is a blessed child. I can't reap her until it is said," she replied vaguely, leaving Billy more confused than before.

Finale I - part 3/3

[A/N] - Finale 2 part 1 will be published the day after, focusing on a better and smuttier ending for Rio, Reader, and Agatha as a triple pair.

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

ALL IS FAIR IN LOVE AND WAR - PART 2

Pairing - Jonathan Crane x fem!reader

Summary - When you were attacked in your own home, you confined yourself with Jonathan to help you heal. Until you learn a sickening truth that changes everything.

Warnings - extreme NON-CON, dub con, rough sex, drugging, physical abuse, dead dove do not eat, manipulation, controlling, just really bad.

Word count - 7.8k +

Notes - Andddddddddd here it is. Posting it before I regret my decision. I've never written something so mentally dark so I don't know how I feel. So please listen to the warnings! And unfortunately I wrote too much so there will be a third and hopefully last part...

When you woke up in the morning, your skull felt like a nail and your throbbing migraine was the massive hammer banging against it. But it was nothing compared to the weight of regret and dubiety on your chest. Despite your intoxicated state, you could remember the details all too perfectly, the two of you, together. As your eyes fluttered open, you hesitantly looked beside you to find the bed empty. A slight sensation of relief ran through you as you regained full consciousness. 

It was just past nine in the morning and you were desperately hoping that Jonathan had work. But even though the silence was loud, the anxious pit in your stomach was telling you otherwise. Jonathan would be lurking around somewhere, waiting for your arrival. After what felt like an eternity of beating yourself up inside your head, regretting the night, regretting how much you seemed to enjoy yourself, you realized that you had to face him. You looked down to your body under the sheets and saw that you were in his shirt and your underwear. Dried fluids painted over the skin of your thighs. 

Crawling out of the bed, you looked around for your clothes but couldn’t find them anywhere. They were probably in the wash, he was such a clean freak. Your fingers were like brushes as you combed through your hair. Daring to look at yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t help but to feel like a cheap whore. Quickly, you looked away from your frame and blinked hard. Tiptoeing to the door and down the hallway, you could hear the frypan sizzle and smell the fresh eggs and bacon cooking. Perhaps you could creep out the door before he could even notice your woke.

You didn’t want to see him. Your mind was a thunderstorm in the making. Everything felt so confusing, you couldn’t get a grasp on your thoughts, you needed time to think. It was frightening, seeing how infatuated he truly was by you. But at the same time, you felt wanted, you secured. You felt the power running through your blood. How easily you could make him bend for you. No, that’s what you wanted to believe. 

You brought out the best in Jonathan. His generosity, kindness, preserveness. But you also brought out the worst in him, his jealousy, possessiveness, demands, ownership. That was all confirmed last night. No matter how he projected it to look, they were the elements in his hands.   

Jonathan’s head turned back at the creak underneath your foot. He was already fully dressed. Jonathan always dressed so proper, his trousers snatched his waist and sleeves of his white button up were rolled to his elbows. A wide smile instantly grew on his lips as he approached you without hesitation. It was like the sight of an innocent child, the look on his face as he was closing into the distance. “Oh, you’re awake darling” Jonathan greeted, wrapping his arms around you before you could even comprehend his behavior. 

Jonathan’s state of happiness couldn’t notice your stiffness underneath him. Breathing in your scent, he pressed his lips by your earlobe. “Forgive me, you know that my brilliance does not major in culinary, but I thought I’d just whip something up for you. To help with the hangover” Jonathan continued with a chuckle, a great look of contentment as his hand stroked your hair. 

It’s bewildering with how it already felt like your heart was stuck in your throat. “Johnny” you whispered very faintly, his nose now pressed against your hair as he continually breathed in your scent deeply. This was pure torture, would someone put an end to your misery? 

“Did you want coffee? Juice? Water would be a safe option” he murmured, guiding you deep into the kitchen so he could lower the heat on the stovetop. 

“Johnny” You repeated more forcefully but still nothing. He was so caught up in his thoughts that for once he didn’t even bother to read your body language. Jonathan opened up the fridge and pulled out a bottle of orange juice. “Jonathan!” You shouted, your nostrils flaring from frustration as your arms trembled. 

Jonathan froze momentarily, back stiff and jaw clenched, as if he had already seen what was going to occur. He put the juice back into the fridge and shut the door before turning back to you with a stern expression as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. 

“Yes darling?” Jonathan cocked an eyebrow to you as his eyes stared you up and down, examining your expression and body language. “Oh, yes, a great hangover indeed. Migraine? I’m sure I would be able to find something to help with that” he attempted to switch the conversation, flashing a smug smirk. 

A beat. 

“I’m sorry” you whimpered, looking down in guilt. 

“I don’t follow” Jonathan spoke emotionlessly. His expression was firm, quickly refusing to show you any more vulnerability. His jawline was as sharp as a sword as he leant back against the counter.

Another beat.

“What we did was wrong” you shuddered, you could already feel your eyes swell up, pins poking at your orbs. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t make eye contact with him, too afraid of seeing his demeaning glare. 

“What are you going on about, sweetheart?” Jonathan frowned, crossing his arms across his chest as he stepped towards you, leaving the sizzling pan unattended. “What’s wrong?” He asked innocently, but Jonathan Crane was never known to be naive. 

“Last night was a mistake, we both drank too much and acted thoughtlessly” you explained through a few chortled sounds, shaking your head at the memory of you two in bed together. 

Jonathan laughed obnoxiously and shook his head at the idea of that. “No, you’re wrong” he objected sternly, taking another step towards you. Backing you up to the other direction of the counter, he firmly placed both hands on either side of the bench, trapping you in. “I enjoyed myself. You enjoyed yourself, twice. There was nothing wrong with two people finally finding each other, sweetheart. You don’t need to feel guilty about anything” Jonathan argued calmly as the back of his hand stroked your cheek, but his eyes looked like they wanted to strangle you. All you could do was stand there in silence, the edge digging into your lower back, unable to form a proper counter-argument, your mouth ajar open. 

Jonathan waited patiently for you to make up a response as he hummed to calm you. You found your chest feeling more at ease as the airflow went at a better pace. See, you can see it right? How he’s calming your emotions, sending signals to your brain that everything is going to be okay. But this isn’t what you want, it isn’t what you need right now. 

“I think it’s best if I leave… I need to think over things” you finally replied, your expression slightly cringing at your honest words. 

The way his eyes went soft felt like a stab to the gut, his hand slowly brushed down your forearm as he stared at you. “You can think over them here with me darling” Jonathan whispered his plea, his fingers sending tingles up your skin. The silence was loud as you kept your head low. It was hurting him, you were hurting him. The words that next left his lips were the ones you were dreading the most. “Do you regret making love to me?” Jonathan asked flatly. 

“I don’t know” you answered, whimpering at this conversation. 

“It’s a yes or no answer” Jonathan swiftly responded blankly, clicking his tongue as his strokes became firmer, his nail lightly scratching your skin. 

“Jonathan please, I was drunk, I was upset, I was lonely. I wasn’t thinking straight!” You cried out your  argument, but it was falling on deaf eyes as Jonathan blinked. 

But you wanted him. You know you did, despite how much you were regretting it. His touch was like electricity, it sent your nerves on ecstatic fire and it terrified you. Yet, you don’t want him completely. 

“Did I not make you feel good? Forgive me but I got a different impression from you last night” Jonathan grunted, his hands now caressing up and down your bare thighs. It made your knees feel weak and you had to bite back your moan. 

It felt good, he felt good. Why were you denying the two of you from this? It was wrong, this isn’t what your relationship was meant to turn into. He was never meant to catch you, you were always meant to be one step ahead. Your mind was hurricane right now. There was no idea that you could catch, hold onto. 

As you blinked, you realized he was still talking. “But you already knew that I love you” Jonathan continued on, his fingers slipping underneath the band of your underwear, massaging your hips. 

“Jonathan…” You warned, or begged? You couldn’t tell what was going on anymore. Your mind wanted to run away yet your body wanted to embrace him.  A slow sigh escaped your lips. 

“No, you know that I love you, you know that I’ve always loved you. Tell me I’m wrong” Jonathan demanded calmly, pressing himself up against you, his nose brushing against your cheek. A shudder echoed through your chest as your hands rested against his chest. 

The bacon and eggs were burning, the smoke rapidly building over the stovetop but Jonathan was oblivious to it, or ignoring it. A moan choked out of your throat as he abruptly pressed his thumb against your clit. Your knees buckled and you held onto his shoulders for support. You want this, stop denying it. 

“Jonathan, I’m really confused right now. I want to go home” you squeaked. Blinking hard, you wanted to wake up from this nightmare but the pleasure his thumb brought to you by merely rotating over your sensitive bud was too strong to fight. 

“No, we will sort this out right now” Jonathan snapped back, his patience running thin as he gritted his teeth together, his fingers brushing over your wet folds. 

“Jonathan I need-” he cut you off but gripping onto your chin. 

“You need to listen to me, please” Jonathan hissed, his eyes sharp and nostrils flaring as he slipped a finger inside of your core. “Your thoughts are disordered, I understand how big of a change this is for our relationship but you don’t need to get scared so easily!” Jonathan argued, his breath heavy on your skin as his digit pumped in and out of your canal. 

Moaning out lightly, your head fell onto his shoulder as you felt your nerves spark against each other. It was spine chilling, the satisfaction he seemed to manipulate over your body. Even though this side of Jonathan perturbed you, you couldn’t help but to feel a rush of adrenaline from it. With him being the puppeteer, his strings tangled around your limbs. 

No. 

Snapping back to your proper thoughts, a wave of anger rushed over you. You shoved him away from you, quickly rushing over to take the pan off the flame and flicking the heat off. The smoke stung against your eyes as you stepped away from Jonathan, but he strided back over to you. 

“I don’t want to be here” you admitted, wrapping your arms across your chest, a single tear slipping down your heated cheek. 

“Please just listen to me!” Jonathan roared, smacking his palm on the counter beside you. 

Naturally you flinched at the action as Jonathan tried to keep his composure. Never have you seen Jonathan look so unhinged, his stability with his emotions have flown out the window as he was panting from anger. The gnashing of teeth frightened you as his nostrils were flaring like a bull. 

The egotistical Jonathan Crane was meeting his match, the rejection of you. He was able to handle it once, but not this time. Not after he had done everything for you, to have you. 

“You’re not thinking of Anthony are you? He left you, remember! And who was the person you came running to? Who’s here now?” Jonathan snarled the questions, his tone dripping of irritation as he lent closer to you, daring you to make the next move. “Tell me darling, who did you call?” He begged sarcastically. 

“Stop it. You’re being mean” you whimpered lightly, gulping to yourself when you saw his left eye twitch. 

“Oh, I’m being mean now? I’m merely being honest” he chuckled, but you failed to find humor in it. “It’s time to be real sweetheart, I am the man that knows you fully. I am the only one that is able to take care of you. I’m the one that would do anything for you, has done everything for you! No one else has gone to the lengths I have, you have to understand that!” Jonathan bellowed, his chest rising and falling as all of his muscles were tensing, his arms waving around in match to his emotions. 

His ocean blue eyes turned into a tsunami with the rage of his feelings at peak. A trembling lower lip as a result of his frustrations. The usual pale skin was replaced with a shade of red from his blood boiling.  

“What are you going on about!” You cried back, your shoulders turning inwards. 

The fear in your eyes conflicted with Jonathan's thoughts. It was fuel to his rage of fire, it turned him on, but it also made his body feel weak. Merely wanting to whisper soft words into your ear, promise you that everything is going to be okay, apologize deeply for scaring you. But his unleashed fury clouded his judgments, purely focused on groundless actions. 

“What don’t I have that you need!” Jonathan yelled, his face red beat from his lack of control over himself and the situation. 

He was confusing you, he was doing it on purpose to gaslight you, he had to have been. The idea to leave you defenseless and at his whim, because only he would be able to make you feel better. This is how it always happened, Jonathan was always the one that made you feel at ease. There had to be no other possibility besides a ploy to make you beg for him.  

“Johnny…” You begged, your lips trembling as you lightly pressed your hand against his forearm. 

Slowly, he looked down to your touch, feeling it all too intensely. Jonathan huffed and closed the distance, his hands gripped onto the sides of your face as he leant in to kiss you. You mumbled against his mouth, lips glued shut as his tongue tried to push through. He smacked you rear surprisingly, your mouth naturally opening in shock. Your hands pushed against his chest but he wouldn’t budge, his tongue deep down your throat. Caressing your back with his smooth hands, you felt your body weaken underneath him, a blocked moan vibrating against his mouth. 

It felt good, too good. Naturally, your tongue danced with his. Your body turning into jelly simultaneously to your mind dissolving into mush. Both of your sensations were heightened, as you could feel the wet patch in your underwear and his heat press firmly against your waist.

Stop it!

With a sudden forceful shove, you successfully pushed him away from you. Following up with a slap that echoed throughout the house. When Jonathan tried to lean towards you again, you repeated your assault until he backed off. 

“I don’t fucking love you so just get over me!” You screamed at the top of your lungs. “You’re such a fucking creep!” you continued your rage, your vision blurry, body shaking like a tree in the wind. 

A very long beat. With Jonathan standing still, his hand pressed against his stinging cheek. 

By the look in his eyes, you were dead meat. It was as if he was debating on the perfect way to kill you, painfully, slowly. But it also looked like betrayal, as if he couldn’t believe your actions. 

Within a blink of the eye, your face is caught in between his hands. It’s hard to tell if he wanted to snap your neck or kiss you passionately, roughly again. There was a moment of him purely huffing and puffing as his grip on your jaw remained like an iron grip. Your hands wrapped around his. 

“I-I’m sorry” you whimpered, a sudden wave of realization crashing over you. You’ve never hit him, you’ve never hit anyone before. What was wrong with you? Jonathan sighed, closing his eyes to hide his glistering sea orbs. 

It was the perfect example of heartbreak. The emotional distress was as visible as daylight over his face. Your unreciprocated love has broken him down. 

“If you don’t wish to be worshiped, that’s on you. I will love you no more” Jonathan concluded, finally letting go of you and stepping back. “I wish you all the best, darling” he farewelled before turning his heel and leaving you all alone. 

“Jonathan, wait!” You called out, your arms wrapped around your chest as he disappeared down the hallway. “Johnny!” You continued, but he didn’t come back. 

You wanted to follow after him, apologize, beg for forgiveness. Yet you were stuck on your feet. Quietly sobbing to yourself, you shamefully picked up your bag from the coffee table and wandered towards the front door. 

Was this the right decision? Regardless, his actions were inexcusable, weren’t they? You never wanted to be with him. But you knew that he loved you. You’ve shamelessly led him on for years, keep him by your side for your own selfish reasons. He was your shoulder to lean on. It was like a timebomb, ticking down until this moment happened, your fuck up. You’ve ruined it with him. Your words felt like a massive lie. You didn’t love him, right? It felt like you didn’t know anything anymore. 

Sitting in your car, you considered going back in, dropping onto your knees to say how sorry you were. But you found yourself driving far away from him. Driving aimlessly for a while, until you eventually returned home, locking yourself in with nothing but your own thoughts on what has occurred in such a short period of time. 

Weeks went by with no contact with Jonathan. Everytime you called, it rang out to voicemail. Every message you sent him, remained unanswered. He was sticking to his word, he would love you no more, and it was breaking your heart.  

-

The sensation of his hot lips on your skin felt fictitious. It should have been painful, the way your nails were digging into the flesh of his back, but there was this euphoric yet menacing smile on his lips as he thrusted completely inside of you. It sounded like a melody, you moaning his name in ecstasy repetitively. He would return the melody with grumbles and groans as you felt his cock twitch deep within you. 

“Oh Jonathan!” you cried out, holding onto him for dear life, nails digging into his skin like you were going to fall to your death. Swiftly, he pinned your hands onto the bed, pounding into your canal as if all human life depended on it. Panting your name back to you, the pair of you molded as one as you reached your climaxes. 

“I love you baby” he cried out, his hands locking yours to the bed as if you were going to slip away from his grasp, his sight. 

“I love you more” you returned the confession, smiling widely through the pleasure and ecstasy that his presence gave you. Jonathan’s mouth was wide open in elation, it looked as if he could eat you whole. 

Your eyes snapped open, your upper body shooting up into a sitting position on your mattress just as quick. It took a long time to get your panting under control in the cold darkness. There was this grumble in your throat, as your hand slipped down your heated, sweaty skin. The feeling of the slippery, moist fluid wetted your fingertips underneath your clothing made you moan. 

As you fell back onto the bed, you stared at the ceiling, replaying your dream like you were in a cinema. It felt so real, it felt so out of this world. You took in a deep breath, your dry hand feeling your jaw, traveling down your chest as you tried to scrutinize your dream. 

Saying that you missed Jonathan was an understatement. Expressing how sorry you were and guilty you felt just didn’t have enough words in the english vocabulary. You wanted him, but in what way? Confusement clouded your judgment, mind and emotions. Maybe you were wrong, about him being the wrong man for you, you really didn't know. All you knew was that his anger was justified and his look of heartbreak managed to have a large ripple effect onto your own heart, perhaps even larger than his. 

There was nothing more that you wanted to do besides hold him. Possibly you were just lonely, knowing that your safe bet was gone now made you feel unloved. But you deserved to be exactly that, alone, forsaken, outcasted by the one that would do anything for you. You never thought about Anthony anymore, it was like he never even existed. Jonathan was the one that was always on your mind, and it made you feel nervous. 

Did you love him? Though you knew his love for you wasn’t in perfect good health. But it was flourishing, passionate, blooming and warm. Maybe you were incorrect, read it all from the wrong point of you. Or you were just up yourself, eager for the heart of a heartless man. 

But those words he said to you. Those controlling, obsessive, possessive words he growled, like a beast. Yet, at the end of the day, Jonathan Crane was just a boy, hopelessly wanting the returned affection of you. You’ve helped fix people before, what difference would he be? 

You were the one that was quick to jump, to slam that door without seeing it through. You reacted without thinking. You chose this. There was no sympathy for you, it was the consequences of your own actions. 

If you could build up the courage, in the morning you’d call him again, and if he didn’t answer you’d go to him for the first time. To apologize, to beg for forgiveness, to confess that you loved him, in the odd yet truthful way. Then you’d pray that he would forgive you, take you back, have you completely.  

You slipped out of your bed, and wandered down the dark hallway to your kitchen, flicking on the light as you yawned. Looking out the floor length windows, you saw the wind dance rapidly through the tree leafs, the vibrations echoing over the glass. 

12:37 the clock read. 

On your tippy toes, you reached into the cupboard for a glass, it clinked as you placed it on the bench. Opening the fridge you grabbed onto the glass water jug when you heard a faint footstep behind you. The next event all happened too quickly, your body reacted before your mind could deconstruct what was occurring. 

The glass shattered across the tiled floor as you gasped out. Fight or flight kicked in. You dodged the hands, shoving the masked man away from you in a desperate plea to bolt for freedom. His body crashed into the counter, echoing a large groan from him. Scattering on your bare feet, your foot slipped on the slippery tiles as you cried out at the pain on your knee smacking on the tile. Then you were suddenly pulled back up by his arm around your waist, your arms flung over the counter top, wiping out everything on display as you tried to grab onto anything to pull away from him.  

Before you could scan your next possibility to safety, you gasped heavily, inhaling the drug he jetted at your mouth. You wheezed, your body immediately freezing like stone into place, your heart pounding against your ribcage like a dog begging to be released out of its kennel, your skin crawling from the inside as if it’s suffocating. All you wanted to do was cry out, but you were even too fearful to do that. 

The masked man stood in front of you as he straightened his posture, patting down his black crew neck shirt, your vision was dark and blurred as you looked down to the ground. His hand tapped your cheek harshly a couple of times and you slowly looked up to him in terror. 

The scream that ran up your throat was piercing. It echoed through the walls, cut at your throat like razor blades. You wanted to run for your life, but your feet were glued to the floor in horror. You saw a demon and his hideous face with eyes as dark as coal. 

The man pressed his body up against yours, pushing your back into the counter, you cried out in pain and fear before his hand roughly slapped over your mouth. His groans sound demonic, as his paws run up and down your skin, his claws looped into the fabrics of your clothes and ripped them. Muffling your cries, you trembled underneath him. 

Flipping your body around, he pushed your chest into the cold benchtop, your hands shot above your head and latched onto the opposing edge of the bench. His fingers ran up your covered region, quickly following through by yanking down your shorts and underwear together. Your sticky folds are fondled by his cold fingers. 

“You cannot possibly be this wet” His diabolic voice spoke. It was uncertain if he had a voice modifier underneath his mask or if it was effects of the drugs you had ingested, potentially both. “Am I fulfilling a fantasy of yours, little one?” He condescended, rubbing your right cheek slowly. 

You wanted to snap back, hiss at him for getting the wrong interpretation. It felt so humiliating to have your attacker believe that he made you this wet. But all you could do was lay there in fear, unable to comprehend for the hell he was going to unleash on you. 

“Oh, little one” he sighed, unbuckling his belt. It was torture, how he was taking his time, purely admiring you, enjoying this moment as you sobbed silently. His covered erection pressed against your gushing entrance and you mewled as he slowly humped against you. Then he slid down his covers, the tip of his member kissed against your core and you weep out loud. 

“Hey…” He grunted, his fingernails digging into your bare ass. “Don’t be afraid, I’m going to take care of you, okay?” He vowed, if his voice didn’t sound so sinister, you’d notice that he was concerned for your wellbeing. Yet it seemed that you had different ideologies on what taking care meant. After a few moments of him watching you sob, he began to push himself inside of your canal. His growl echoed down your eardrums as you gasped at the sensation. “That’s it, that’s a good little whore, taking me fully” he spoke slowly, burying himself deep inside of you. 

It was traumatizing, the way that your cunt was naturally squeezing around him, the arousal that vibrated over your skin, how there was this pit of pleasure building up in your core. There was no control from you, no matter how badly you wanted to keep your mouth shut, you were echoing your moans throughout the room. 

He moaned out in return as he began to pick up his speed. “Oh yes, I’m positive I am fulfilling a fantasy of yours… Am I doing a good job?” He toyed, slapping your ass with one hand and holding your hip in place with the other. 

Taking care of you was a lie, he was hurting you. The sensation of your skin felt like it was on fire, his cock felt like a dagger. So how were you so aroused right now? It was the drug. It had to be the drug, This was not a guilty fantasy of yours and this certainly wasn’t fulfilling your enjoyment. Yet, you were enjoying it technically, the physical response to erotic stimulus. That’s all it was, reflexes. The intoxication has messed with your cognitive response, your mind was currently relying on your physical reactions. 

The first wave felt like a tsunami over your body, it ached with how strong your orgasm was. Your nerves jabbing viciously at you. Crying out, the man grunted, refusing to slow down his pace as you shamefully rode out your high on him. Smugly, he praised you for being such a good obedient whore. Shortly after that, the second wave came crashing down on your body. Making him smirk underneath the mask. 

“I wish I could know what was going on in that little mind of yours, would you please tell me?” He coyed, pounding in you like a rabbit. How did he sound so content? You were hardly able to breathe the way his balls were slapping against your clit. 

“N-no” you whimpered out, shutting your eyes tight. 

“Oh come on! Tell me how it feels, or I’ll give you a reason not to fucking talk” He growled, hitting your cervix, over and over again. 

“Uhhh! How-how” you stuttered out your cries. 

“Talk little one, spit out those lovely words” He ordered, grunting at the sensation of your canal. 

“How good you feel inside of me” you sobbed. The embarrassment and humiliation felt like a tidal wave over your emotions. His hand rubbed against your flushed rear skin to praise you. 

“Really? Want me to come back again tomorrow night? Or you want me to just stay the night? Maybe you want me to steal you away” he toyed, still thrusting in and out of you at a brutal pace. 

“No! No! No!” you begged, shaking your head at the idea. 

Jonathan. He came to your mind, you wanted him to save you, to protect you. Just like how you knew he always would. Oh how you wanted him to come for you!

“Jo-Johnny” you mewled, eyes stinging in pain as you silently begged for Jonathan to come for you. 

The man paused for a moment, deep inside of you. You gasped out in relief. “What was that little one?” He asked softly, holding your hips in place as you clenched around him. 

“Johnny” you repeat yourself, sobbing at the thought of him. 

Sobbing at the thought of how you hurt him, of how he wanted nothing to do with you anymore. From how you broke his heart, ruined everything between you two. 

“Johnny, huh?” He snorted as he started to pick up his speed again. 

 “Jonathan!” You cried, but he wasn’t going to save you, no matter how hard you wanted to believe otherwise. 

“Who’s Jonathan baby? Your little boyfriend?” He laughed, his nails lightly scratching up and down your outer thigh. By the way your cunt was pulsing against him, he knew you were close again. “Does Jonathan make you feel this good?” He mocked, forcefully flexing his hips to make you choke out. Your whimper sounded like a mix between yes and no. “Speak clearly!” He ordered. 

“Yes!” You answered, your body trembling against the freezing countertop. 

“Maybe we could share you then” He grinned underneath the mask. 

“No!” You begged. 

“Alright, then cry out for him. Cry out for Jonathan to save you!” He commanded, hitting your bundle of nerves over and over again. His balls were slapping against your clit as your moans and cries were garbled together. 

“Jonathan!” you whined, holding onto the counter for dear life as your climax rushed over you. 

It was pure horror, how good your orgasm felt, it was like you were flying. But at the same time it felt like your body was chained to the ground. Your sensitive skin felt like it was being poked at with a million pins as your orgasm flooded out from your core. You wanted it to continue on, but it came to a sudden stop. 

It left your mind in a blur. He pulled out of you, his seed shot all over your heated skin between your thighs. The growl rumbled out of his chest as he roughly kneaded your hip with his free hand, his other hand stroking up and down his length viciously. The both of you remained still for a moment, then he rubbed his hand all over your thighs, coating your flesh with your mixed fluids. Pulling up your bottoms, he leant over you and caressed your cheek from behind with his wet hand, his crotch pressing back against your ass as he inhaled you.

Your fragile body shook underneath him. Silently begging for him to end you of this misery. His words were muffled as his hands trailed all over your body. 

The last thing he said to you sent shivers down your spine. “I’ll see you soon, little one” It felt like he vanished into thin air, his friction against you disappeared, you heard no footsteps nor the door open or close. It was as if he was never there. 

-

Life felt like a trance, as if it was back to normal. Well, whatever normal could be considered anymore. Being an expert in the field of psychology, you never thought you’d be deeply stabbed in the back by the knives of trauma. It was common for psychiatrists to have their own personal issues, to have a line of support. But you couldn’t help but to feel embarrassed, because you knew exactly why these things occurred, yet you couldn’t get rid of the pitch black thoughts and emotions that blinded your vision. The ones that blinded your happiness and confidence. 

It was easier to heal and move on from it, you knew that holding onto it would only do you more harm. There was nothing that could fix it besides yourself, well, and Johnny. That mind of his was truly something else. Jonathan’s alleviation of providing enough treatment for you to mend your trauma worked at ease. It was like he was your lucky charm.

He talked you through it, his voice sounding like a harmony which consoled that nothing was ever your fault. The mediation he gave you helped with your anxiety and panic all too easily. Whenever you were overwhelmed or upset, he held you tightly and reassured you that you would never go through that ever again. 

Gotham City Police Department was as useless as a glass hammer. Not to mention that if someone leaked your name to the public, it would highly likely humiliate your career. So it went unsaid in how the authorities would not be contacted over the incident. Not to mention the process would be so draining, all for another cold case in Gotham City. 

It was easier just to forget it, you had to keep on telling yourself that. Be the strong independent woman you have always strived to be. Countless victims have the same story, you need to stop having so much pity for yourself when you’ve had Jonathan by your side through it all. 

You don’t know how he got in without it triggering. The alarm should have gone off. Maybe one day you could move away from Gotham City, to somewhere free of crime. But like Jonathan would ever agree to you leaving him like that, especially for what he has done for you. You owed him your life, that was a distressing thought of yours whenever it flew over your mind. 

You took personal leave from work for a few weeks, residing at Jonathan’s home where he also tended to work from home a lot more frequently. Doctor Jonathan Crane was a workaholic, but in order to keep your anxiety at bay and yourself comfortable, Jonathan flipped his whole schedule around to suit your needs. A lot of the time you’d be lying on his couch in his home office as he typed away rapidly on his computer. His gaze would frequently lay on you, as you struggled to keep your eyes open, your mind often wandering elsewhere. 

Slowly, you exposed yourself into public settings. At first, you felt like all eyes were on you, your heart was like a drum. Anxiety made you feel like you had cement in your shoes. But Jonathan was right there, by your side for you to hold onto. To support you, to remind you that everything was going to be okay. 

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months. 

Life with Jonathan felt dreamy. It seemed unrealistic, for you to heal as quickly as you have. There have been cases where people took years to heal, cases where they never healed. But here you were, sipping on your tea as you lounged carelessly on the couch. You blinked in a dazy state, as you looked at the clock. Jonathan would be arriving home any minute. 

Jonathan declared it would be better if you fully move in with him, you contentedly agreed. He’d empty out his office, turn it into a bedroom for you if you ever insisted. Your home would be a major trigger, and living by yourself would be dangerous to the sake of your mentality. But you were still happy with sleeping in the same bed as Jonathan, just as he was. 

It grew to be the favorite part of your day. Crawling into bed, right straight into his arms. Like a dog running to his master. Sometimes he would read to you. Sometimes he would tell you of potential plans for your future together, little one’s though, like going to see the current ballet production. Sometimes he would just hum a melody until you drifted off into a peaceful sleep. 

Yes, you had fallen hopelessly over for Jonathan. There was nothing holding you back anymore, he has shown you time and time again that he would do anything for you. He has done everything for you. It was time to stop being inconsiderate, he showed you how much he adored you and it was time for you to show it back. 

Jonathan smiled lightly at you as he walked into the lounge room, he dropped his briefcase beside the couch and fell onto the spot next to you. “Hi” you smiled softly, blinking slowly as you repositioned your body on the soft fabric. 

“Hi darling” Jonathan smiled back at you. “Good tea?” He asked, his eyes looking down at the mug and then back up at you. Your head nodded softly as you lifted the mug to your lips. 

“I can make you a cup if you want” you offered, looking over to the kettle in the kitchen. 

He took off his glasses and put them on the coffee table. A part of you wished he got contacts instead, he always looked so much more charming without them on. 

“I’m okay, I still need to look over a few reports. I faxed them to myself so I could do it here instead. I know I told you we’d do something tonight but I’m sorry sweetheart. I’m so behind in my work, I’ll have to make it up to you another night” Jonathan apologized, leaning forward and capturing his head in his hands as he propped his elbows on his thighs. 

Mentally chuckling to yourself, you put the mug down on the coffee table. Leaning over to Jonathan, your arm wrapped around his back as you rested your head on his shoulder. It felt perfect, being with him. It always felt perfect holding onto him. How were you so stupid? To not realize that Jonathan was indeed the perfect match for you? 

He looked so tired, so worn out from the overloading factors in his life. 

“Your body feels so tense Johnny” you pointed out. He hummed, slightly looking over to you. Your hands began to knead into his back and he let out a soft moan. It went on like that for a short time, slowly increasing your kneads. When you said his name almost like you were singing, he straightened his back and completely turned to you. 

Time froze, but yet it all occurred in a snap. 

“I love you” you admitted, a shy smile on your lips. The purest look on your face, there was no deception. This was all real yet it felt like a hallucination.  

It felt right, felt like you were holding it in for so long that you’ve even forgotten about the cage that the truth was locked in. But you stumbled across the lost key and set it free. It soared through the blue sky, nothing could ever latch onto it again.  

“I love you too” Jonathan answered back, turning his lower body so his arms could easily wrap around your back. 

“No… I love you” you repeat yourself, looking him sternly in the eye as you leant closer to him, but not too close. Jonathan chuckled lightly and leant closer to you, your lips inches apart. 

“I know” he replied quietly. 

He waited for you to give him the green light. Sighing softly, you lightly pressed your lips against his, closing his eyes, returning to this dream of yours. 

-

You stirred in your sleep. Whimpering and gasping at the vision of your attacker. The sight of that barbarian. Your eyes shot open as you gasped for air. It felt like you were in space, your head was going to expand twice its size. This still happens sometimes, the nightmares Jonathan and yourself could only control so much. Desperately looking around for Jonathan, you quickly realized the room was empty. “Johnny!” You called out, holding the sheets close to you, the wind howling against the shaking windows. Your body was trembling, eyes stinging in pain. The door was wide open, the hallway light illuminating the entrance as you heard heavy footsteps quickly approaching, you were afraid of who was going to appear. 

Jonathan came into sight in the open door frame only in his pajama pants, Leaning against the wooden frame with a cup of black coffee in his hand. You could still see the steam lingering above the ceramic. But Jonathan scanned your figure immediately and strided towards you. 

“Sorry darling, I couldn’t sleep with all of the wind outside so I just thought I’d do some work” Jonathan explained, approaching you. “Another nightmare?” Jonathan inquired. His question was answered with a small nod. Placing the mug on the bedside table, Jonathan sat next to you, you fell into his arms at the drop of a hat. Gently urging you to tell him off your dream, you took a deep breath. 

“It was just the same dream” you whimpered your answer.  

“You’re safe darling. He won’t get you” He promised, his hand gently resting above yours. 

You knew his words to be true. But it was still so terrifying. 

“Why do I still dream of him?” you whined faintly. 

It was a silly question to ask. But you couldn’t help but to feel so frustrated and stressed when these moments still happened. It made you feel like all of your progress was crashing down onto you. 

“It could be a number of reactions. Your mind is still distressed by it, there’s nothing to be ashamed of from it. PTSD can cause an exaggerated fear response in your dreams. Which makes them feel real, which gets your heart racing and nerves on edge” Jonathan explained, gently petting your hair. “Remember, these moments can still occur, it’s just how you deal with them afterwards that matters. Don’t let these negative thoughts win sweetheart. Do not fret, I am here to take care of you” Jonathan assured, a gentle smile on his lips. 

“Can you stay with me?” You asked softly, staring at him with doe eyes. 

“Of course darling” Jonathan consoled as he laid comfortably into the bed with you. 

His arms pulled you up to his chest, you breathed in his scent, he always smelt like a rich scent of musk and it relaxed you. Jonathan hummed to you, to keep your mind distracted from getting into its thoughts again. Surprisingly, Jonathan drifted off into a deep sleep before you. He rarely fell asleep first, and was always the first one awake. 

Even though you felt safe, secure, protected in his arms. It was difficult not to think back into that night. The fright your attacker gave you when he grabbed you. How quick you ingested the drug. As the toxin rapidly took over, you found yourself frozen in fear. Your body was in shock, trembling excessively, your mind was in a horrific state yet you could hardly murmur out your pleas. How he forced his large size inside of you, making you grumble out as loud as you physically could. 

It all made you feel sick to your stomach. The humiliation of orgasming around his size disgusted you. It was the last thing you wanted to do, but you just couldn’t control yourself. You tried to remind yourself about it being a natural response, but how could your body be so turned on in that horrifying situation? The pet name he called you, little one. The way he moaned, a rough fabric covering his face brushing over your flustered skin, praising you for how good you felt through his demonic voice. His hands were awfully smooth, they fondled your skin to make up with how hard he was thrusting inside of you. It felt like an eternity, all you could do was lay there on the cold counter top and pray for him to finish sooner rather than later, yet disgracefully you wanted him to keep on going. You couldn’t tell anyone that. No, you couldn’t wish for that. Don’t let these tricks bring you down again. 

When he did finish, you don’t know how long he stayed there against you, holding onto your body as if he caressed you like you were a lover. It felt like it was everlasting, but also felt like he was never there. When you knew you were alone, you fell to the floor immediately as hyperventilation took control of yourself. You curled up into a ball, too afraid to move, afraid he was going to come back. You sat there for what felt like hours, however it was much shorter than that. 

Jonathan was the only person on your mind. Your hero, your protector, oh how you wanted him to save you! To take you away from this life. Free your mind from this nightmare. Your life depended on him, that much you knew. He was the only one that would ever be able to fix you, to mend you, to cure you from this torment. 

Oh how you wanted to kill this savage, how you wanted Jonathan to kill him for you.  But one thing was for sure. The man wearing a burlap sack with a noose around his neck has scarred you for life.

Taglist:

@red-riding-wood @slut4thebroken @cocacolaovalchair @betty21rose

[m0chisenpai]

New Daughter of Mine

Pre!Avatar Way of Water

platonic!jake sully x human!!reader x platonic!neytiri

Sequel: Goldilocks

It’s easy to take in a stray animal. A human child being taken in by two aliens is an entirely different narrative and challenge within itself. Neytiri works her best to learn with each day. And there were good ones like now. As she sits with her dear Netayem pressed to her chest and she watches as Jake points to himself, palms pressed to his chest as he slowly sounds out, “sem…pul” 

And she can’t help the smile across her lips as you speak it back pressing your hands atop his, “sempul!”

“And Neytiri is?...” he raises his brow as you huff, pressing your eyes so tight then opening them wide.

“Sa’nu!”

“Sa’nok” He flicks your forehead gently. 

“For you I am sa’nul my y/n.” And her heart throbs at the gap toothed smile you flash her. Her own lips turned up. 

You latched onto Neytiri in an instant. And to Jake’s surprise she accepted you immediately. She would bring you on small hunts, teaching you to aim, to track. Crafted a bow with you as she told you the story of the one whose bow she carried. 

She braided your hair affectionately in the warmth of the day. Her fingers gently plaited, and moved with a gentleness you never knew. Slowly you found yourself falling asleep, leaning your small body back to rest your head on her stomach. 

And she didn’t have the heart to wake you, so she adjusted your head gently and continued threading the beads. They were her own ones from her own childhood. A piece of her, now a part of you. 

You shifted in her arms, eyes open half way as a large yawn fell from your lips. By then she was done and you looked into the clear waters with excitement enjoying the sounds of the beautiful beads. 

 “Mother would braid tight when she did my hair at home. And there was another woman, I don’t think she liked me very much. She would do it sometime and it would hurt.” 

And Neytiri cupped beneath your jaw to look into your eyes. “I will always be gentle with you, my y/n.” 

And she was. Jake would raise his brow as she watched how Neytiri would speak with you. It took months to tear down that stoney wall, but with you she was a pile of mush in an instant. 

But when it rains it pours. And when the bad moments come it is when Neytiri realizes that it only strengthens the now four of you.

 It usually happens at night. You would get these night terrors and would scream and cry for your mother and father. It shook her to her core the first night it happened, but somehow you knew Neytiri’s arms and when sh beheld you tight and rocked you gently you would slowly lull back to slumber.

One particular night it was bad and in an attempt to soothe you Neytiri lay her hand atop yours and went to hold you once more. In your haze of a nightmare though you continued to shout “Mama! Mama!!” your shrieks now shake Jake awake who watches as your tiny fists drive into Neytiri your hands collide with hers working to get them off of your body.

“Its ok baby come here, you're fine. You're safe. We’re here” Jake quickly pries your fighting form away from Neytiri and wraps his arms around you. 

And so she pressed Netayem to her chest bouncing him gently as she shushed him and Lo’ak who was woken by your screams. 

Her heart broke as Jake pressed you to his chest, how you grasped his hand as you whimpered. You were scared of her. It was then she realized it. No matter how hard she would try, how hard she could try and heal your wounds, she would never be your birth mother. But for now, she would endure it. Because you were her ite. 

She would not be your birth mother, she would do better. She could feel this task in her bones, from Eywa herself as she knelt before the tree of souls with tears in her eyes. “Free my daughter from these monsters in the night my Eywa. Great Mother help me, guide me. Teach me to do what is needed for my daughter.” Her eyes screwed shut as she clasped her hands tightly.

Tonight she waited. Neytiri was a huntress at heart, the best among the tribe. And she could hear it from the stutter in your breath. And so she sat up, holding you in her lap and rocking you as your breaths picked up. And she sang. She sang your song chord. Whispered it over and over as she brushed your hair out of your face. 

And this time you didn’t fight her. Instead your head slowly fell into her palm, she could feel the gentle puffs of your breath slowing down. You lean into her touch and she smiles as she sings into the night. 

That next day she would add a bead to her song chord. It was a beautiful stone you’d found playing in the waters with Netayem. She smoothed it down once rough and covered in stone turned smooth with deep grooves like a pearl, and now sings a new verse. “My Y/N, my light. Bright star in my life. To you, Great Mother, I thank you each night. Daughter of mine, new joy in my life. My Y/N, My Y/N.”

[hoseokslefteyebrow]

Thinking about....

Street racer! Suguru, who you go from enemies to lovers with in the most unique way.

You met when you were around 17 years old.

Originally you two didn't click.

Yes, he's gorgeous, and charismatic, but also arrogant and seems to not value women, or at least, that's what you think.

You don't race. You're only at the car meets and alike because your best friend, Ryomen Sukuna, races. (Besides- You don't have a driver's license.)

Originally, Suguru never looked at you twice.

Yes, he knew who you were, and sure, you were at least kinda good looking.

But not pretty by his standard.

You don't wear short skirts, nor show off a lot of skin. Nah, you wear whatever you want, and it's always a question whenever you're in the mood to have been wearing make up that night.

You're the simple kind of girl who doesn't catch his eye. (Enough girls did though, he was rarely single.)

Your best friend, however, is a whole different story. 

Ryomen Sukuna was quick, amazingly so. Perhaps even the fastest on track. 

Suguru's best friend Satoru is the only one who can keep up.

It somehow weaves you into their friend group (Satoru, Suguru, Shoko, and now Sukuna and you.)

And at first, Suguru doesn't care.

Until you show you do.

There's a simple code the streetracers you surround yourself with keep.

'Don't hit a pedestrian. ' 

Simple enough. 

They choose to race, and they've sworn off of accidentally taking lives because they love to be reckless.

Suguru is forced to honor that code one fateful night, years later (you're now 21), when a drunk teenager stumbles across the road, forcing him to hit a tree.

The damage was as expected.

The other kid he was racing had crashed too, his girlfriend injured in his passenger seat, guilt and panic overtaking his actions.

He doesn't notice Suguru, heavily injured in his own car.

You're the first to notice that he's late.

Suguru lost occasionally, sure, but the other kid hasn't arrived either, which was suspicious.

With a sigh, you had turned to Satoru, who was chatting up a girl he was known for having the hots for (she still hasn't agreed to let him take her out), but he had simply waved you off.

Rolling your eyes, you turn to Sukuna instead  calling him to check out their track, see if something happened.

He agrees. ( He'll take any excuse to drive anywhere, anytime.)

Of course, you come across the scene of the crash.

Sukuna is quick to call the cops, while you race over to Suguru with wide eyes.

He's stuck in the car, heavily injured.

He's barely able to keep his eyes open as he looks at you.

He's unable to speak for the moment.

But he thinks an angel had come to take him up to heaven when you tenderly cup his cheek and fuss over his injuries.

That night, you spend the night in jail, along with most of your friends, with Suguru in the hospital.

Your mom and older brother were not amused as they bailed you and Sukuna out of jail. (Your father found it hilarious.)

The next day, you visit Suguru.

He's touched, and surprised.

He only expected Satoru to visit, maybe Shoko, but definitely not you.

(Later, you'd find out that he had a girlfriend during this time, and that she was at the car meet during the crash- she had been chatting up other boys. Also, you'll learn that she broke up minutes before your first hospital visit.- She didn't want to care for him. )

Due to the extent of his injuries, he needs a lot of extra care. One of his legs broken, one of his arms healing from fire wounds because of when his engine caught fire while he was stuck.

And you're the only one there to do that.

Out of your own free will.

Satoru is busy.

He leads the same life as Suguru after all, so Suguru understands. 

They were both sons of business men. Future ceo's of big companies.

Suguru's parents were disappointed, and turned a blind eye to him and his needs.

Instead, they hired someone to attend to him.

Which turned out to have been unnecessary. 

You turn out to have a big heart.

Coincidentally, this happens during one of the school breaks (you're in college) and you care for him every moment while you're not at your side job or don't have anything important to attend.

You care for him at a level where you would sometimes stay in the guest room of the house. You care enough for his parents to notice you.

He starts to see you in a different light.

You're beautiful. 

He never realized he'd find someone attractive by especially their personality. 

But he also realizes you're too good for him.

He's done nothing but ignore you after all. 

At most, he'd send you a cocky glance, yet here you are, tending to his every meet.

(Eventually, he'd ask Sukuna if you'd do that for just everyone. And your best friend would shrug. He didn't expect you to care either

In reality, you would. Because you count him as a friend. Even when you didn't expect Suguru originally to care for you the same way if the same thing happened- you're selfless like that.)

You two get to know each other better. He gets to know about your likes and dislikes, your favorite things to do and hobbies, and in return, you're surprised to find out he likes the traditional Japanese style he grew up in, though he also likes hip hop music.

It nearly makes him sad that you'll spend less time once he's healed and college classes have started again.

He's in college too, but in a different, high class school.

He finds himself reaching out to you more often.

You hang out more often too.

At the same time, Satoru and his crush advance too, and eventually after one of the car meets (one Sukuna isn't attending, you usually tag along with him, but you actually came with Suguru,) Suguru, Satoru, his crush and you tag along to a restaurant.

You decide to go in one car to cut parking costs.

An interesting detail is that Suguru never lets anyone besides Satoru sit beside him up front if multiple people are in his car.

It's always been like that.

He also drives one of those three door cars, where you gotta push the seat up in order to climb into the back.

But to your utter surprise, he stops you as you're about to climb in behind the passenger seat, telling Satoru, his best friend to sit in the back instead.

It makes your eyes widen, though Satoru doesn't mind, all too happy to get up close with his crush.

(Also, he knows Suguru likes you. He most definitely doesn't mind.)

You're the first girl to sit up front besides Suguru. None of his ex girlfriends ever sat beside him in the front seat. It had always been Satoru.

And now it's you.

Later on, he doesn't let you pay either.

Things between the two of you are going smoothly, and Suguru nearly has the guts to try and ask you out, when you suddenly have a boyfriend.

The two of you talk less. And it sucks. Suguru hates it.

Sukuna tells him that the dude you're dating is a douche too. 

The Douche hates the platonic bond you share with Sukuna (it's a sibling like relationship.) And also dislikes Suguru.

Imagine Suguru's absolute pleasure when he meets the guy. (Along with Sukuna, Shoko and Satoru.)

He's using his own charismatic personality to his advantage, and the Douche is indeed a douche.

You agree to meet up in your favorite Japanese curry restaurant in the city. ( The one Suguru loves too.)

Sukuna is quick to pull you to his side, sliding you into the booth and sitting down beside you before Douche has a chance to sit down next to you.

Suguru is quick to join you at your other side, which leaves Satoru and Shoko to sit opposite along with Douche.

Douche adds fuel onto the fire by adding the spiciest dish the restaurant has, even challenging the cooks to make it spicier.

(Later on, you tell Suguru that Douche has a weak stomach, which Douche was well aware of, but ignored.)

Not only does Douche nearly cry because of the spiciness, but he also makes the dinner awkward by suffering cuz of the heat. 

In fact, the mood is ruined to such a level, that everyone passes up dessert.

(The restaurant has the best mochi in town in multiple flavours- Suguru knows you love them.)

And the bill is split.

(Suguru is disgusted when your boyfriend doesn't pay for you, and pays for your part.

You're wife material, and deserve the very best and to be pampered.- In his most humble opinion.)

Later on, (barely five minutes later), Douche realizes he has to throw up, unable to handle the spicy food.

You're borderline embarrassed as Douche throws up in a garbage bin (thankfully out of sight) once you're on your way to the car garage.

Suguru feels borderline disgusted with Douche as he casually comes back after throwing up.

Douche reaches out to you, but it seems Sukuna and Suguru have the same thing in mind.

Suguru is quick to gently take you by the hand and pull you in his embrace, while Sukuna roughly grabs Douche by the hair and all but punches him in the face.

No one feels sorry except for you when they leave him in the city by himself.

Once again, you're seated up front in the passenger seat like the passenger princess you are while Satoru, Shoko and Sukuna are squeezed in the back.

It's quiet for a while, until Sukuna eventually tells you to just break up with him.

It kinda goes back and forth between Suguru, Sukuna, Shoko and you for a while. Because you don't want to, for whatever reason.

Suguru doesn't understand why you're willing to hang out with that douche and put yourself through his bullshit until everyone is out of the car and he finally asks you.

But then you get a little shifty and uncomfortable, admitting that Douche is your very first boyfriend.

For a moment Suguru is speechless, because you're a beautiful person inside and out, he never expected that at all.

'Because who would date me?' -Is your answer, one you give with a smile when he asks why.

Suguru's eyes widen.

Have you always had this low of a self vision of yourself? 

He feels stupid for being blind of it. There have been instances where he's noticed your insecurities, but he never thought they all connected to that.

He's stupid too, because even though he knows and thinks it, he doesn't outright tell you to leave Douche and date him instead.

He knows that he would treat you so much better after all.

However, you do break up with Douche that very night.

Douche didn't like how he was punched by Sukuna, nor how Suguru so casually pulled you into his side.

In the end, he blames you for everything  even when you've done nothing wrong, and forces you to choose between him and your friends.

Obviously, you choose your friends.

Suguru and you grow closer after that.

Very much closer.

You become a bit more extrovert.

You had always been introvert, sticking to Sukuna while not necessarily afraid to meddle.

Eventually you had also tagged along with Suguru everywhere, but it's different now.

Months pass with the two of you growing closer, and finally, one night, at Satoru's place, yet another party, (for what you don't know.), he finally speaks the words that have been on his mind all along.

You're both drunk, but not drunk enough to forget.

You're pressed closely next to each other on the couch, side to side.

Suguru's arm is wrapped around you, holding a beer.

An excuse to pull you closer whenever he takes a sip.

(The reason he's drunk in the first place.)

Finally, he confesses that he can treat you so much better than Douche did.

For a moment, you're confused. (Who's Douche again?)

But then you realize what he's trying to say and you fall quiet, surprised.

And Suguru full out confesses. He's loved you for two years. He hated to see how Douche treated you, when he knows you deserve better. Maybe you even deserve better than him, but he's selfish. He wants to keep you for himself. 

Forever, if you'll have him.

By the end of the confession, you're speechless, surprised.

And then you leave without answering him.

Suguru feels regret and heartbroken when he wakes up the next morning in Satoru's guest bedroom. (You had gone home the previous night.)

Meanwhile you're pondering. You're confused over your own feelings. Because do you like Suguru? You've never explicitly thought about it.

Yes, you love spending time with him. Yes, you don't mind being alone with him whenever you go to places. Yes, you like when he laughs, especially when you're the one making him laugh. No, you don't like when other girls get too close to him or make him laugh the same way you do. You love when he pulls you close into his side, or when he rests his hand on your knee or thigh when you're in his passenger seat. - Oh shit, you're in deep.

You shouldn't be surprised. While you had been in that toxic relation with Douche, even Douche could see it. He had mentioned before that he didn't like Suguru because of how close you are, and the way you looked together.

Barely a day later, you text Suguru that you want to meet up, to talk about things.

Suguru's surprised by your text. He really thought he blew it with you.

Now, he feels a tiny bit of hope as you two talk, and he feels like the luckiest man in the world when you tell him you want to give the two of you a try.

You're not sure about loving him just yet, but yes, you do like him. Do find him attractive.

Suguru is okay with that. He's ready to love you, and he'll wait for whenever you're ready to love him too. In the meantime, you'll be fine, safe and happy with him.

He's sure of it.

Although his confession is messy, eventually he'll find out that confessing to you was one of the best things he's ever done, no matter how messy it was.

Masterlist

[mm-lurking]

Your mara brings me pain too - Blade

Blade is the coldest Stellaron Hunter of them all. He is a man of few words and even fewer emotions. One fateful day you get a message from Kafka asking for your help and you learn that behind his cold exterior is a man just like you- and everyone else; he has fears, pain and regrets of his own.

A/N: I don’t understand much about how his mara works but this is how I envisioned it as. Plus, it was about time I wrote something on reader comforting Blade.

ALSO THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 100 FOLLOWERS!! Oh my god thank you for liking my writing >< T^T

Warnings: Blade x fem! reader, angst and pain, fluff, please Blade deserves so much love and affection, idk my writing feels choppy my apologies I’m rusty as hell.

WC: 4227 — Hey are you free right now? It’s urgent.

One day on the Xianzhou Luofu your phone buzzes at night. You weren’t doing particularly much, just cleaning your space and lounging around. You pick up your phone and squint at the sender’s name only to stare at it for a while wondering if you read it right. It was Kafka.

I am available what’s up?

You wondered why Kafka would contact you for help at a time like this. Was everything ok?

Can‘t explain too much but it has to do with Blade. Come over as fast as possible.

You jump upon reading the message. There is a slight elevation in your heart rate as you read his name. Blade was the Stellaron Hunter that had caught your eye when you first encountered him. As days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months, you started realising that perhaps you were in love with him. The idea of that sounded so stupid that you hated to admit it but it was the truth. Obviously, the 9 million bounty over his head wasn’t discouraging enough to stop these feelings.

Left with no choice, you grab your phone and head out the door, practically sprinting to the hideout where those two resided. You’re breathless by the time you arrive and knock on the door, panting like a dog as Kafka opens it. She looks at you with surprise all over her face.

“You’re here. That was fast.”

“You said it had to do with Blade so.”

“Ah yes, it does. Come inside.”

You follow her inside and shut the door close. Neither of you say anything and you silently follow her to a room in the distance. Right before she enters the room she turns around and looks at you with an unreadable expression.

“His mara is acting up again but this time he is wounded pretty badly. While I use my spirit whisperer to calm him down, I need you to help me heal and keep him steady. There is a first aid kit on the table inside.”

You stare at her with wide eyes and blink, taking a minute to process her words. Your gaze flicks back and forth between Kafka and the door, and you take a long pause before saying anything.

“Kafka are you sure it’s ok for me to…”

Your voice trails off. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to help him. You were a healer; on expeditions and other occasions it was your responsibility to heal and tend to others wounds. But this was different -you liked Blade and you weren’t sure if he was comfortable with you healing him. You didn’t want to upset him when he was stable again. Kafka notices your dilemma and shakes her head.

“If there is anyone I can trust Blade with, it’s you. Plus, he would be ok with you.”

That makes your heart flutter but you mentally make yourself shut up and nod. She turns back around and twists the doorknob open, revealing Blade lying on the bed with injuries and hyperventilating. His coat has been discarded on the side of the bed and he lies on the mattress with nothing but poorly wrapped gauze on his upper body. There is a lot of blood splattered all over his limbs but the wound on his chest makes your heart twist; it’s oozing with warm blood and the bandages are unable to stop it.

The injury looks painful. The wound looks like a shattered mirror with lots of little cracks and crevices. You’re so shocked by his state that Kafka has to snap her fingers in front of your face to take you out of your trance. You look at her and then back at him again, wondering how to even explain what you were feeling.

“How did he…?”

“He must have over-pushed himself again. The Xianzhou Luofu reeks of his past and even with the lack of memory, the emotions are still present to induce his mara.”

You cautiously take a step closer to the bed. He’s clearly out of his mind as he keeps mumbling things along the lines of  “you must pay the price” and “my sins are no different than yours traitor”. A part of you is afraid to approach him as you fear he might accidentally hurt you in this state. But the other part of you aches seeing him in so much pain and there is nothing more you wish to do than to soothe his suffering.

“Be careful.”

Kafka warns you and you nod your head while continuing to take closer steps to his bed. There is an aura around him that you cannot discern; it is an uncomfortable feeling of pain and suffocation. By the time you are right by his bedside, the aura only gets stronger and worse. You

can hear him withering in pain from his wounds as sweat rolls down the side of his face. He turns his head left and right continuously as if trying to ease the discomfort. Judging by his half-lidded eyes, it seems he isn’t aware you’re standing next to him.

Immediately you summon your healing power, first creating a shield around yourself to protect you from the aura and any sudden self-defense movements he might do. Then, you lean closer towards his body and place your hands on his chest, removing his bandages carefully to begin healing.

“I’m going to start using the spirit whisperer now. On my count. One, two-“

You zone out the moment she finishes counting and release all the power you have into your hands to heal him. There is a faint yellowish glow over his chest as you hover your hands over the wounds. It takes a considerable amount of power to work on each wound he has, especially the one right in the middle of the chest that hasn’t stopped bleeding. You hear him groan in pain as you work your way through the different injuries continuously.

“I know…I know…”

You whisper soothingly as he seethes and huffs, presumably from the spirit whisperer. For a moment there is silence in the room until suddenly Blade throws his arm towards you, smacking your shield with a loud thud. The unexpected action makes you stumble a little and your healing abilities dispel from the shock.

You look up at Kafka who gives you a concerned look. She had mentioned that she cannot stop her ability halfway through the process and therefore leaving you alone to deal with Blade. You gaze back at Blade who's starting to stir awake and his groans only get worse as consciousness begins to set in.

With a deep breath, you hover your hands over his chest again and resume healing. Unfortunately for you, he tries to hit you again and the thud on your shield makes you flinch. Despite this, you push forward as you grit your teeth and finish healing his main wound.

A surge of pain takes over you as you exhaust yourself in the process of healing him. He’s trying to throw hands at you again, this time more aggressively as if trying to stop you from healing him. However, based on his constant murmuring and the pain laced in his voice, he’s reliving something and is accidentally taking it out on you instead.

At one point you catch his hands as you tightly grip them and hold them in place to stop him from hitting you. His strength is overbearing even during such a state of weakness. He squirms in your grasp, trying to escape but you hold onto him until he finally gives up and loosens his grip.

“Easy there Blade…”

Who knows if he’s actually able to hear you but regardless, you continue to whisper comforting things to him, trying to ease the pain as much as possible. It hurts seeing him in such a frail state, one where you can’t intervene. The mara is a sickness only those inflicted with it can understand and feel and as such, you’re left to watch him from the outside as he fights the battles in his mind.

The last of his wounds are easier to patch up and it should take no time to heal them. But just as you’re about to start healing again he physically stirs and you watch him twist and turn as his eyes flutter open. There is a momentary silence in the room before he shifts his head to look at you and you swear you see hatred in his crimson eyes.

“You traitor..!”

You gulp. He’s still mara-stricken but just awake. You’re unsure if you should say anything as it might make things worse; what if he gets physical with you? Hesitantly you softly reply.

“Blade, it’s me.”

“You…you must pay the price!”

Before you know it he has grabbed onto your arms once again and tries to wrestle you. The sheer force he exerts on you makes you panic as you try to make him let go.

“Blade…!”

You look back at Kafka whose eyes are closed as she continues her part of the job. A chill runs down your spine as you slightly panic, afraid you will be alone in dealing with his sudden change in demeanour. Another burst of light leaves your hands as you form a new shield and wrestle to contain him.

After what feels like forever, the unyielding grip he has on you loosens and he breathes heavily. You watch as he takes large gulps of air and turns his head side to side over and over. A pang of pain hits your chest as you try to ease his discomfort again, healing the last of his wounds while he seems to be calm. 

Silence falls in the room again as you finally finish healing. You take this opportunity to stare at his figure only to notice he has fallen completely silent and looks to be asleep. Confused at his sudden behaviour change, you glance at Kafka again who opens her eyes and looks at you. She gives you a small smile and you immediately understand that she has finished using her spirit whisperer.

“I have suppressed the mara in him. He should be fine now. Thank you for your help.”

Your attention shifts back to Blade, and you gaze at him longingly.

“You’re welcome.”

Kafka nods and smiles at you again.

“I will leave him in your capable hands. I am sure he will need your presence when he wakes up.”

You’re not sure how to feel about that. Yes, you would love to look after him but you were also afraid he wouldn’t be pleased if he saw you. Before you can say anything, Kafka leaves the room and it’s just you and Blade alone together. You haven’t been able to process anything since you arrived. Everything was so chaotic and sudden that only now were you able to think through things. You mentally trace the wounds on his chest, starting from the ones on his shoulder and moving your way down to his abdomen.

The injury on his chest hurts you the most. In your lifetime of getting injured and healing others, you’ve seen it all. You’ve seen flesh burn, knife stabs down to the bone, small scratches; name an injury and you’ve seen it at least once in your lifetime. But his wound was a unique situation. You knew that no matter how much he was stabbed and hurt his flesh would heal over and over on its own. That was the curse of immortality given to him. No matter how grave the injury, it would heal.

That doesn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt right? You couldn’t even fathom the pain he went through everyday, getting hurt in fights and having to come back to his residence to bandage up everything on his own. Each day like clockwork that’s what he probably did, cursing his immortality as he cleaned up his wounds all by himself, all alone.

The image of that brings tears to your eyes as you look at his face. How lonely must it be to live a life like this? To know you could never die, to know that you would have to look after yourself all on your own? Did he ever wish that someone could look after him just once? Or did he think he wasn’t deserving of such love?

Your tears splatter on the bedsheet as you feel an overwhelming amount of sadness from such thoughts. How desperately you wished you could be the woman by his side to assist him in such moments. How desperately you wished that you could love him so dearly that every fibre of his body felt wanted and desired.

It takes you a while to calm down from such depressing thoughts. The tears have dried from your eyes but you continue to sniffle as you grab the bandages and gauze from the first aid kit to bind his wounds. Slowly but gently, you clean up the remaining blood on his body with a clean cloth and sanitise the wounds before sealing the area with the gauze.

You couldn’t help but start tearing up again at the thought of him wrapping the gauze around himself on his own. For how long had he been doing this? How many years? How long and how many injuries must it take for one to become a master at bandaging their wounds?

You cannot contain the tears in your eyes as they accidentally drip onto his abdomen. You attempt to hurriedly wipe your eyes but it’s hard to contain them the more you ponder. What you don’t realise is your sniffling and tears have prompted the man to wake up.

“Urgh….why are you crying…?”

His deep raspy voice makes you jump slightly and you aggressively wipe your tears before smiling at him.

“Goodness, you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

You reply, completely ignoring his question. You’re aware he’s watching you as you work on his wounds, bandaging him carefully.

“Urgh…!”

“Ah I’m sorry, does that hurt?”

Worried, you lean closer to him and examine his shoulder carefully. You gently press on it to confirm the pain. He groans again and you give him a small smile.

“It’s a bit tender. Try to relax as much as you can.”

Instead of doing that, he catches your hand and looks at you intently. Your heart skips a beat as you make eye contact with him.

“I need to patch up the last injury on your arm Blade.”

“Stay.”

“I am not going anywhere.”

You reassure him and he nods before closing his eyes and exhaling. It takes a little under a minute for you to wrap up his arm injury and you sigh after you’re done. When you observe his body now, you see more bandages and gauze than his skin and the pang in your chest comes back again.

“…would you like some water Blade?”

You quickly ask since you were afraid you would start crying again. He opens his eyes and looks at you blankly before nodding. As he attempts to sit upright you quickly assist him, placing a hand on his back while the other holds his large one. He observes the shakiness in your hand as you pour him a glass of water and bring it to his lips.

“Drink some.”

The gentleness in your voice soothes him in a way he cannot explain. He complies and drinks the entire glass, all the while maintaining eye contact with you. Suddenly you feel very embarrassed and attempt to distract yourself but when your gaze lands on the chest wound you can’t help but feel sad again.

When he’s done drinking, you place the glass on the nightstand and sigh.

“Are you feeling any better?”

You softly ask as you help him lie down again. He hums and you take that as a yes. Unable to help yourself, you lean closer towards him and brush stray hairs away from his forehead. The proximity between you both makes your heart race but you fail to notice it as you absentmindedly run your fingers through his scalp. The sensation is calming and he finds himself relaxing under your touch. He watches you closely again, observing the tiny frown on your face and your red puffy eyes while you’re busy playing with his hair. He notes that you look exhausted.

“Your eyes are red.”

“Huh? Oh.”

You plaster a smile on your face. 

“Don’t worry about it.”

He didn’t need to know what you were feeling. It was embarrassing and you didn’t want to make things awkward between you both.

“Are you- urgh!”

He groans in discomfort while trying to adjust himself. It’s the wound on his chest that seems to be the problem now.

“Easy there.”

You quickly help him out, checking the bandages again and readjusting them. Beads of sweat form on his forehead and you grab a cold compress from the first aid kit to wipe them away. His breathing pattern is inconsistent as he huffs and sighs from the aching of his body. You check his forehead and it feels warm to the touch which makes you frown.

“Blade I think you have a mild fever.”

“It’s the side effect of the mara.”

“You need to take medicine.”

“There is no need.”

“Are you sure?”

You stare at him sadly and he sighs. You continue to wipe the sweat off his face and neck as he takes shallow breaths.

“Did Kafka send you?”

He manages to ask in between the bouts of pain.

“She did.”

He sighs and intently looks at you.

“When the mara strikes you shouldn’t be next to me.”

“She said she could trust only me with you.”

He scoffs.

“Even so.”

Silence fills the air before he continues.

“Are you hurt anywhere?”

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?”

You jokingly reply only to realise he’s being dead serious when you make eye contact with him.

“I’m ok. I am a healer after all.”

You change the cold compress as you speak and look for a new pack. It is then he notices the slight bruises forming on your arms and the redness around them. Without a word, he grabs your arm and you yelp.

“Hey-?!”

He examines your arms and gazes at you with a look you cannot decipher. You gulp at the intensity of his gaze.

“When exactly did you get here?”

“Blade none of that matters, all that matters is if you’re ok-“

“Did I hurt you?”

You immediately shut your mouth. There are several ways you want to answer the question but nothing comes out.

“I will take that as a yes.”

“Blade please-“

“Why would you risk being around-“

“Because I care for you!”

A sharp exhale leaves your mouth as you realise what you just said. The tears you had been trying to hide so desperately started to flood your eyes again.

“Please. Let it be.”

You whisper slowly while putting away medical supplies. In your peripheral vision, you see him look at you with wide eyes as if unable to understand.

“I am a healer Blade, I will be fine. But I worry for you.”

You gently whisper as you adjust the bedsheets around him and fix his long hair. This time your tears have nowhere to hide as they freely roll down your face. With nothing left to do, you just awkwardly grip the edges of the bedsheet and hang your head low.

“I will give you some space. Rest well.”

The moment you let go of the bedsheet and try to stand up, he immediately clasps your hands tightly and silently demands you to stay.

“Blade?”

“Stay.”

Hesitantly you remain by his bedside and look at him. He doesn’t let go of your hands and continues to peer into your eyes.

“Stay.”

He repeats himself and you sigh.

“Alright.”

He slowly shifts away from you and pats the edge of the bed. Your eyes widen and you look back and forth between him and the bed.

“Are you sure?”

He doesn’t reply and instead gently drags your hands towards him until you have no choice but to sit on the bed. He then proceeds to look at your arms and then at you again.

“You…the fate of those I know is never a good one.”

You intertwine his fingers with yours and tenderly smile at him.

“That will change with me.”

You watch how his eyes widen momentarily before he turns his head away.

“You have a long life ahead of you, young one. Don’t waste it on me.”

Hearing that makes you frown.

“You’re going to have to find better ways to get rid of me then.”

“Mm.”

Silence falls once again. To your surprise, he doesn’t pull his hands away from yours as you rub circles on it. You note how calloused his hands are and the amount of scars littered on them. There is warmth radiating from his palms and it feels comforting and protective.

“Are your wounds still hurting?”

“No.”

“Good.”

You shift around to get a better look at his face.

“Do you feel at ease now?”

“Mmm.”

“Let me know if you feel any discomfort, okay?”

“You need to be more careful when the mara strikes me.”

“…”

“It is reckless of you to be around me even if you are a healer.”

He then turns his head to get a better look at you.

“I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

You absentmindedly run your fingers through his hair again and sadly smile.

“I hate that you have to deal with this alone Blade…”

You mentally yell at how tears have started forming in your eyes again.

“I hate that you suffer on your own while I spend my days in comfort. I hate that you have to bandage and heal yourself every day all alone. I hate that you’ve grown so accustomed to this life that you do not allow yourself to be loved.”

The tears in your eyes fall on him once again and he grips your other hand tightly. There is a confused look on his face, as if he doesn’t understand why would someone care for him and why would someone feel sorry for him.

“Foolish girl. Why are you crying?”

“Because I-“

You choke on your words and attempt to hide your face by hanging your head but fail to do so. He slowly brings his free hand to cup your face and sighs. His palm completely encapsulates your cheek and you subconsciously lean into it.

“My life is cursed to immortality. It is my sin to bear.”

“Still-!”

“Do not cry. This is a daily affair.”

“Doesn’t it hurt Blade? Even if you’re used to it?”

He takes a deep breath and wipes the tears away from your eyes.

“A sin is a sin. Of five people, three must pay the price. I am one of them.”

You sob harder into his hand, unable to stop yourself from feeling this way.

“Just what sin must one commit to suffer such consequences?” He stops wiping your tears and gazes at you momentarily with an indescribable look in his eyes. You can see how there are thousands of thoughts swarming him as he wonders what to reply. Fearing that you might have overstepped his boundaries, you immediately try to change the topic.

“You don’t have to tell me anything. I just..”

“It is a long story young one. Should you ever have to face the situations I have, do not make the same choices as me.”

“It must be hard to live with such regrets…”

He stares into the distance then hesitantly replies.

“Even if I have regrets, there is no point in pondering about them. There is nothing that can be done.”

“I am sorry…it should be me looking after you, not the other way around…”

You manage to say in between your hiccups. He continues to wipe the tears from your face and gives you a small smile. Seeing him smile makes your heart skip a beat and you can’t help but give him one in return.

“You need to rest.”

“So do you.”

“I am already resting.”

“I can rest later.”

He sighs at your stubbornness. You giggle a little and squeeze his hand, reassuring him you would be fine. A little chit-chat later, Blade falls asleep from your rhythmic playing of his hair while still holding your hand. There is a large silly smile on your face as you look over him lovingly.

Your tears have dried and the aching in your heart has calmed down. In his lifetime, you may not be able to take his curse away but the least you could do was to be by his side in times of need. If the Aeons were kind enough to you, perhaps in the future you could be his woman. There is a strange feeling of determination that burns in your chest as you hold onto his hand tighter and stroke his hair. You silently stare at his peaceful face, mentally tracing his handsome features as he takes slow deep breaths. The thumping of your heart grows louder with each passing second.

I would do anything for you Blade. Anything. ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ©mm-lurking 2024 do not copy, steal or reuse my work.

[trashmouth-richie]

eddie x fem reader

(honey I’m home master list)

Summary: eddie waits for results and gets a heart to heart from Wayne. Recovery is tough road, but the sun shines.

triggers: dealing with ptsd and learning to heal.

Special thanks to @sweetsweetjellybean for helping me through this one! + all the others. Only 2 more chapters to go! 🥹

  “This is it,” Eddie says, swiveling in his seat to look over at you, the rings on his finger tapping gently against the steering wheel. 

  Smiling softly, you look through the smoke stained windows of Eddie’s van up at the big brick house. He wasn’t kidding, Steve lived in a mansion compared to the small ranch style you had called home for the past few years. 

  You scrunch up your nose, “jeez Steve couldn’t afford anything bigger than this? Must be going broke.” Your humor was coming back in small spurts and Eddie grinned ear to ear. 

  “I know,” he agrees, throwing open his door and going around the front of the van to open yours, “.. ugly isn’t it? Poor bastard has no taste.” His smile is wide and toothy like it always was, but somehow more handsome. “This is okay right? I mean just gimme the word babe and we can stay with Wayne or somethin’.” 

  Placing a rogue curl away from his face you twist it around your finger. You weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to the feeling of being his, but you couldn’t wait to start a new chapter in your life. 

  “I’d live anywhere, as long as you’re with me,” you say sweetly. 

  One of his big warm hands finds your cheek, wafting the familiar smell of old spice and Marlboros to you and bringing your face up to him, “you really are the most  beautiful girl, you know that right?”

  Steve and Leighanne had been expecting you, checking in with Eddie to make sure you would feel at home for your stay… however long that may turn out to be. They refused to accept any money from Eddie regarding rent. “It’s no good here Munson…Leighanne and I are just happy you two are safe.”

  “..and you sir,” you say, working your fingers along the cotton of his shirt, a smile pressed to your coy lips, “are so full of shit.”

  His eyebrows pull together and release once you stick out your tongue in a tease. A smirk replaces his concerned expression and he pulls you up into him. 

  His lips enclose yours and you can’t stop the smile spreading across them.

  “You ready, baby?” 

  For the first time in three months, you had something to smile about, to look forward to, but the weeks leading up to this were not paved in gold. 

——

  Eddie paced the tiles of the waiting room, nails bitten and bleeding on his left hand, threads ripped and torn in the holes in his jeans. He was a wreck. 

  The brief conversation with the doc while you were being prepped for surgery gave little to no relief. Few words sticking with him and running like ticker tape across a news station channel screen in his head.

   “high risk” 

“Possible death during childbirth” 

  He held your hand as long as he could before you were wheeled into the operating room, apologies falling from your lips, followed by screams of pain. Eddie was terrified but assured you everything would be okay. Even if his bravado was fake, his mask held strong on his features. Calming you instantly. 

  He doesn’t break until the swinging doors close and he’s standing alone in the cold hallway, the pads of his fingers pressed to his lips. A silent scream trapped in his lungs. But the salt of his tears paint his face and wash away the mask, Awww

  He just got you back, and now your life possibly hung in the balance, again. He just found out he was going to be a dad, and now the baby he never got more than a week to love, was gone. 

  Is this what it was to love him? Everyone he ever loved left in one way or another. The punishment of loving an unlovable man meant losing your life in terms of Eddie Munson. 

  His mother. 

His child.

  It was a curse. An eye for an eye. He had killed and now he was reaping what he sowed.

  What kind of sick twist of fate would allow this to happen? Would allow a pregnant woman to be beaten nearly to death? To have a child ripped from his mother as she took her final breath? 

  Eddie started questioning everything he had ever done to deserve such cruelty bestowed onto the ones he cherished.  

  What else was there to sacrifice? He’d gladly die if it meant bringing them back to him. He would take their place, cold and frigid in the ground, a soft pillow in a satin box. Six feet under. 

  His fingers press into his eyes until he sees stars. The grief swallowing him whole into a tangled web of desperate pleas to a higher power he wasn’t even sure he believed in and mixed humidity from sweltering heat of hell. 

  He wasn’t strong enough for this. And if you died during the procedure? He’d certainly crawl up and perish like the weak man he was.

  His boots are heavy and squeak annoyingly all the way to the empty waiting room. The calming color scheme offers nothing but a chilled brush of fear to his neck as he fishes out a quarter from his pocket when he gets to the pay phone. Messages scratched against the paint, “welcum to h3ll” “pray for me” “for a good time call Barb”. 

  His fingers find home on the silver buttons, clicking the number to the plant where Wayne works, only dialed when he was in too deep. 

—

The monotonous dial tone seemed to go on forever, before a gruff voice out of breath voice answered, “this is Earl.” 

  Eddie kept his composure through the four word sentence asking if Wayne Munson was there. A grumbled remark and a slam onto the metal counter echoed through the receiver. 

  Seconds turned to minutes and minutes fade to what felt like hours before the familiar calloused tongue rang through the other end. The dam Eddie was holding back broke as Wayne said his name, and through one sob after another Wayne told him to hold tight and he’d be right there. 

  Wayne left the plant in record speed. Grease smearsleft washed clean down his face from the tears that fell on the drive from the plant to the hospital, breaking all laws to get to there as fast as he could.

  When Eddie’s eyes met Wayne’s he sobbed like a child. Clutching onto the man’s work uniform like it was the only comfort he had ever been offered. 

  A lifetime's worth of tears stream down the Munson’s faces. And Wayne eases Eddie into a chair in the waiting room. 

  “She’ll be alright, Ed.” Wayne offers, a rough comforting hand rubbing Eddie’s shoulder, “she’s a tough one.”

  Eddie shakes his head, “she shouldn’t have to be,” his hands cover his face, he’d take the pain for you if he could, “if I would have told her sooner… if I didn’t freak her out when I did, m— fuck.. maybe, none of this would have happened.” 

  He had run a million and one scenarios over and over in his head on how this could have been changed if he could turn back the time and do things differently.

  Wayne drags a rough hand down his face, smearing the grease from the machines at work and scratching the itch is his wiry unshaven face. To him, Eddie was still that same little boy, eyes bigger than the moon, and the weight of it all on his shoulders.  

  “Son, I know this is hard, but you gotta stop and think for a minute. Ain’t no way tellin’ if this could’ve been prevented.” He stops to clear his throat, years of cigarette smoke raw on his throat.

  “Sounds like that som bitch was keepin’ her on a tight leash, just waiting’ on her to be alone.” Eddie winced at Wayne’s honesty, had Chad really been in the shadows? He keeps going, “You gotta open your eyes and realize what you do have and stop frettin’ bout woulda coulda shoulda.” 

  Eddie hung his head low, shoulders shaking with every sob he willed to swallow down, “I didn’t— fuck man, I didn’t even get a chance to love my own kid— and n— I promised myself I wouldn’t end up like him.”

  He regrets it before he’s even done saying it. Truth was, he loved that baby the minute the nurse blurted out to a room full of friends that you were pregnant. He was heartbroken that he never got to shatter the Munson reputation and show himself and this fucking town how good he could raise a child. 

  Wayne nearly jumped out of his overalls with fury at Eddie’s speech, “Did you hurt that girl? Nearly kill her and your own blood? Out of some jealous whiskey infused rage?”

  “No,” Eddie says, knowing he’s being scolded for saying something as dumb as what he just did.

  “Your daddy was meaner than a Texas rattle snake. Fucker didn’t have a good bone in his body—mama always said he was born like that. Piss and vinegar blooded.” Wayne shakes his head at his own childhood memories of a brother who showed no remorse. “You think I’m yellow bellied enough to raise a man just like ‘im? Boy I thought you knew better than that.”

  Eddie shrugs his shoulders and wipes a traitorous tear away.

  “That,” Wayne says pointing to Eddie’s face, “you might have the Munson last name but son you are so much like your mama, think that som bitch ever shed a tear over someone other than ‘imself? Think again, boy.”

  Eddie looks at Wayne through thick wet lashes.

  “You’ll be a good daddy when the time is right. These are the cards you’re dealt with and they ain’t all pretty right now, but hell, a full house ain’t nothin but a few cards that look the same, no royalty needed.” 

  The hillbilly way of explaining things was Wayne’s greatest achievement, it gave Eddie a sense of calm, understanding. He was a good man. He had proved that time and time again. But hearing it and believing it— were on two different plains. 

  Dr. Newby found Eddie in the waiting room with Wayne, hung head down and knees bouncing. He had explained that everything went as well as it could have. You were stable. 

  Wayne asked the questions that Eddie couldn’t pluck the letters to form the words to generate the sentences to ask. He clung to the fact that you were in stable condition. 

  Fading in and out to catch bits of the doctor’s answers. 

  “The last ultrasounds she had done when she arrived here, showed a very irregular and faint heartbeat….body was in shock and the stress and trauma put her into early labor…”

  “…there was never a guarantee that the baby would have even survived to the end of this week.” 

  The only question Eddie could muster, “when can I see her?”

—

  The effects of the anesthesia wore off, dwindling like dandelion heads in the breeze in the summer. Blown away slow and easy. 

  You wished you could float on one of them, gentle and sweet fluttering around and not having a care in the world. Blown by a sharp gust of wind and landing daintily somewhere new, spreading the seeds of your fortune to a new land. 

  But the cold press of sheets and steel sides of the hospital bed bring you back to reality. 

  Not wanting to open your eyes and face the true cusp of the hell you were stuck in. Not wanting to see those same dark eyes swell with tears. Eddie’s heart ache seeped into your own, pulling the threads of the sewn stitches around it with each wet tear that fell down his face. 

  Would you ever bring him something other than turmoil? Could he find peace with you? The devil himself laughed at your pleads and you didn’t blame him. 

  You needed only a few more seconds, minutes, to yourself. Collecting your thoughts and trying to be strong for him. 

  He had promised to never stop loving you— would he still? Would he be able to look at you the same? Love you the same? 

  The comfort of your closed eyelids proved better than facing what lay ahead. But you couldn’t hide from him forever. 

  The void was suffocating, emptiness choking you and leaving you a shell of yourself, but it all faded away when you opened your eyes, and saw him. 

  —

Upon waking you both sobbed into one another, mourning the loss of the little family you both so desperately craved to belong too. 

  “I’m sorry Eddie, I’m so so sorry.” you had cried into his shirt. 

  Eddie held you to his chest, his arms holding you tight and his chin rested on the top of your head. “None of that, angel girl, you hear me?” He prodded, shattering the doubt and guilt from your mind, “we have each other, always.” 

  Days after, your body still felt hollow, empty and sunken. And the stress you had endured hung like a gown on a poorly constructed hanger around you. A dark cloud. 

  The doubt and demon truths sauntered their way back into your mind. Lies of telling you Eddie didn’t love you, didn’t care about you, could never be with someone responsible for what happened to his child or himself. 

  That was when the nightmares started. 

  —

  “She seems good today,” Nancy chirps, her stylish heels click against the sidewalk outside of Roane County hospital, Jonathan keeping up with her quickened pace, holding his fingers tight between hers, thankful for every single day that she chose him, no matter his faults. 

  Eddie walked them out to their car, the sunny April morning brought birds and the promise of spring, “she’s always happy to see familiar faces, you’re like a sister to her.”

  Nancy smiles with tears in her pale blue eyes, “she’s like a sister to me too, Eddie.”

  “So you guys are staying with Steve and his girlfriend?” Jonathan asks, wrapping his arms behind Nancy and resting his chin on her shoulder.

  Eddie sighs and leans a denim hip onto Nancy’s car, his arms crossed over his chest, a weighty sigh falls from his lips, “yeah, for a bit at least. I don’t want her to go back into that house.” 

  “Oh absolutely not,” Nancy agrees, nodding along, her curls bouncing, voice small, “I didn’t want to mention this to Tooty, but my mom and dad, and Jonathan’s mom and Hopper volunteered to clean it. Rip out the carpets, replace what’s broken—whatever needs to be done.”

  Eddie is stunned at the support, but feels guilty all the same, “they don’t have to do that, I— once she’s clear to go home I’m gonna go over there and clean it all up myself.”

  His heart ached and burned with the thought of being handed more charity. 

  “Dude, Jonathan started, “you’re our friends, we’re here to help, so let us.” 

  An exasperated breath leaves Eddie’s mouth, vibrating his lips on the way out, “alright.” 

  He’s overcome with emotion at the sentiment, and almost bites his lip in half to stop the flood of overwhelming tears from bursting. 

  “Now the only thing to figure out is… would you both move back in there?” Nancy asks timidly, her features soft and concerning, skirting on frazzled nerves, “Steve said something about finding someone to rent it out, that way she could have some sort of income..”

  “I knew a guy from the paper who needed a place to live, but when I mentioned the house…he uh— well he quickly found something else,” Jonathan muttered partly into Nancy’s collar, “ arms tightening around her slender waist. 

  No doubt finding someone to rent the house would be difficult. The entire town was still reeling with what happened, somehow the only thing that anyone seemed to care about was Chad’s death. Never mind his crimes. 

  Eddie’s head spins, a headache brewing between his brow, and he closes his eyes to push it away.

  “No rush!” Nancy says, her hand laying gently on Eddie’s arm, “we will all get it figured it out, okay?” The blue of her eyes twinkling with a pure presence of honesty, and hope. “Just focus on our girl in there, she really seemed to be doing well today.”

  Most days he looked haggard, dark circles colored his under eyes, worry streaking down his face in thick fatigue, still he pushed forward, bit the bullet and attended therapy sessions with you for domestic violence survivors, and his own sessions for a fancy named disorder he didn’t care to understand. 

  He’d take care of you just like he promised.

  Eddie opens his eyes and forces a smile, “Night and day difference compared to how she was the day of,” his dark blood shot eyes swim with his admission, “but we’re hopeful.. I mean things can only get better right?”

  —

  The first night at your new temporary place was perfect. You and Eddie were both welcomed with open arms literally, from both Steve and Leighanne. They showed you around, telling you everything that polite and generous hosts would. 

  After bringing in the few bags and boxes in from the van that were deemed needed and not marked to be brought to storage, your hosts leave you and Eddie alone for time to unpack and relax.

  Time that you both took advantage of by immediately stretching out and taking a nap in the big king bed you had shared all those months ago. A bittersweet nostalgic memory, tinged with pain. 

  The love that was made, the life that was created—seemed like a different life time ago. Trauma and stress had changed you both. 

  And when you wept, Eddie held you close, his own tears tickled your hairline, and you both held onto the promise of unspoken devotion and undying love for one another to get through to another day. 

  When you woke from your slumber, Eddie wasn’t in the bed, and it left you in a small state of panic. The unfamiliar walls closing in like a trap. And you used your therapist’s tips to ground yourself; the repeated mantra, the breathing exercises, and if necessary, a shower to metaphorically rinse your mind of unwanted thoughts.

  Finding the toiletries in your bag, you pad across the hall and step into the tiled shower. The hot steam coaxing the pressure off your chest. Relaxation floods your body almost instantly. 

  A soft knock on the door followed by Eddie’s voice, quiet and calm. The drag of the shower curtain brings your eyes up to find Eddie on the opposite side, “you okay?” 

  He was gentle, always. And you nodded. You would be okay, you would always be okay with him. Nobody ever made you feel safe like he did. 

  An unspoken agreement that neither of you were ready for anything intimate, seemed to break. Seeing him in light other than the harsh fluorescent ones in the hospital had you reaching for him.

  His hooded eyes understood, and he pulled his shirt over his head, catching on the cast on his right arm. 

  He was beautiful, the dark lines of tattoos and smearing bruises complimented his pale skin, and a deep feeling flooded you. Only having felt it once before, the night of his concert… right before he kissed you. 

  The wet tile warmed his toes as he slid in beside you. Facing you and forgoing the doctors orders of not getting his cast wet, he asks just like he did that night. 

  Sharing kisses in the hospital and holding each other in the hospital was the most intimate you had been since that night. 

  And something that brought fear was once again replaced by the gentle touch of his hand. Running down the expanse of your back. Fingers moving down your spine in memory. His forehead pressed to yours. 

  “You’re perfect,” he soothes, running his fingers around  to intertwine with yours, “I’m so goddamn in love with you.” 

  The tears tread down your cheeks, and he kisses them away, making your heart swell, and you muster out a blubbery, “I love you more.” 

  You both stand and hug until the water chills. Exiting the shower and wiping the condensation from the mirror. 

  The swelling around your face had gone down significantly, and even though you didn’t recognize yourself, Eddie reassured you that you were the most beautiful girl in the world. 

  “My girl,” he promised. 

  The days got easier, friends visited and cheered you both up. The hope for a better tomorrow came with the sun and pressed daintily on your skin, healing wounds deep within that in the early days of waking up screaming, you weren’t sure you would ever come back to see again. 

  —

“Does Eddie like tomatoes?” 

  The large knife moves through the juicy tomato with ease under Steve’s hand. You were perched on an expensive barstool, elbow digging into the granite counter tops as he prepped the salad for tonight’s dinner. 

  A smirk licks your lips, “no, he claims he’s allergic; calls them ‘ketchup testicles’”.

  Steve cocks an eyebrow and blows a raspberry, “What a moron.” 

  “You don’t have to cook for us, y’know?” you say, picking the dry skin from your lip. 

  He shrugs, “it’s just a little salad, Leighanne made the alfredo lastnight, and if I follow the instructions right,” he says picking up a piece of notebook paper, including little hearts you can see through at the bottom in a very pretty cursive handwriting, “we’ll just have to heat er up.” Steve says, pushing a rogue hair from his forehead, “besides, I actually like to cook; she spoils me and doesn’t let me help.” 

  “I’m happy for you,” you say with a small smile, “you deserve it.”

  “She’s the one,” Steve grins, love sick pupils widening at the thought of her, “but hey, you and Eddie finally pulling your heads out of your asses is the real winner— should have slapped you both for being so damn dumb.” 

  The middle finger you hold in the air just makes Steve laugh.

  Who knew the prince of rebellion and chaos wore his heart on a leather sleeve only for you? The blinders you wore to convince yourself it wasn’t real were finally tossed aside. 

  He loved you, and you loved him. End of story. 

  Before you could answer, the mayor of mayhem announced himself back from work, keys jingling and whistling a tune you didn’t recognize. And when his dark eyes catch yours, they swim and shimmer in adoration. 

  Dimpled cheeks dip onto his toothy smile, “there’s my pretty girl,” he sings, coming behind you and hugging your waist. The smell of cigarettes and motor oil stuck on his curls. Chapped lips on your temple, “how was your day?... you okay?” 

  Eddie hated leaving you alone, taking his lunch break to come back to the big house and check on you, using his smoke breaks to call whenever he could. 

  You nod into him, “better now,” leaning your head back to press your lips to kiss. 

  An annoyed groan follows from across the kitchen island, “let’s keep it PG in here okay? I know you guys finally admitted you love eachother but that doesn’t mean I want to see all of that.” 

  Eddie’s chuckle fans over your cheeks and he answers Steve but his eyes lock on yours, “big talk for a guy who could make a deaf man blush.” 

  Steve guffaws and stops slicing, “and what’s that supposed to mean?”

  Eddie grins and whispers finally looking away from you, “Quiet neighborhood… thin walls… you wouldn’t even need to ask who occupies this house with the way Steve whimpers Leighanne’s name… every night, they’re like rabbits.” 

  You both giggle at Steve’s expense when his cheeks turn crimson and the tomatoes he’s cutting end up mutilated. 

  — 

Living with Steve and Leighanne was surprisingly easy. Their routines stayed the same, and Eddie went back to

work for Boom after you had settled in. 

  He was a saint. 

  He held you when the nightmares started again. Sweat pooling on your shirt waking only to find Eddie’s arms wrapped tight around you tethering you back to reality when his thumbs swept over your cheeks, and his lips kissed away your tears. Quiet whispers and soft hums of his voice lulled you  as he pulled you deeper into him.

  Eddie and Steve kept up the light jokes and cracks at one another all the time. it was good to be around close friends and laugh again— something both you and Eddie had missed desperately. 

  Laying in bed one night, you walk your fingers up his bare chest tracing the lines of his tattoos, snuggled up into his side like a cat.

  His nails scratch at the fabric on your hips, “still not used to how good it feels to stretch out like this,” Eddie exhales, “I don’t know about you sweeteheart, but one more night in that hospital bed and I was going to ask Dr. Newby for fucking life alert.” 

  You giggle into his smooth skin, “twenty-six with life alert? Gonna thread that onto your pick chain necklace huh?” 

  “Shit,” Eddie chuckles, “I’d make it look so good babe, Ozzy himself would start wearing one.” 

  Hearing him joke around was a huge win. His bruises were fading too. But his wounds were deeper, wedged into the grim corners of his mind. Keeping him up most nights, afraid of falling asleep. 

  But each day the sun rose following the pattern of the moon, and another day passed.  Eddie started sleeping at night again, your nightmares dormant. Medicine and therapy working into the perfect cocktail to deter his own demons. 

  The two of you clung together. Molded into one another like playdoh, forming a new hue after mixing your colors together. It changed with your moods, vibrant and sunny on good days and moody and dark on the bad ones. Interconnected by the fragile trauma that weaved its way into your life. 

  The laughing fit you are both in is partly from lack of sleep, but feels too damn good to stop. Snorting and dripping tears from your eyes, your roars turn to giggles and hiccups as you wipe your eyes. 

  “Didn’t know if I’d ever hear that again,” Eddie admits while rubbing your side, placing a kiss on your head. 

  You lean on his chest and look deep into his coal eyes. 

  “We’ve been to hell and back, babe… but with you, it’s, I don’t know… I just know that we will be okay, does that make sense? I’m not worried about anything because I have you, and I couldn’t do any of this without you Eddie, and I mean that. You’re all I’ve got.” 

  Eddie rolls you over and tucks a wet lock of hair behind your ear, “I’d do it all again if I knew I’d end up with you as my girl.” 

  The tears start but they aren’t sad, they’re slow and happy, grateful for having him in your life. He wipes your tears and kisses you softly, humming the same song he sang like an idiot to you in your car all those months ago.

  The calloused hearted trailer park prince had won over the icy soul of that stubborn mouthy girl. A perfect pair, tarnished crowns and stitched lips. 

  To hell and back. 

[shalomniscient]

i just woke up, it’s 7am and i’m having thoughts about jingliu…

if there was one person on the luofu who knew jingliu the longest, it was you. not the high cloud quintet or the cloud knights, you. the daughter of jingliu’s master, and the stubborn sword champion’s personal healer. she entered your life as a gangly, hungry girl who could barely hold a sword in both hands—and now, she’s the greatest warrior the luofu has ever seen.

but more importantly, now, she’s your wife.

it seemed almost like an inevitability, that you’d fall for her. for all that she was your mother’s disciple, you didn’t see her much as children. jingliu would always be training, and you would always be studying. it was only after she became a member of the cloud knights, and you a member of the alchemy commission, that things would really start to blossom—like a lotus flower, bright and pure.

you were the only healer jingliu really trusted and even allowed to heal her. the warrior had a stubborn streak several miles wide, but perhaps it was the echo of your mother in you that had her obediently heeling to your treatments—a fact that always awed her fellow cloud knights, who teased her relentlessly about it. “whipped,” they’d say. jingliu would only grumble and grudgingly thank you, before leaving the clinic and decidedly and publicly putting every one of her squadmates on their asses during a sparring match.

but nonetheless, it is no one but jingliu who comforts you when teng xiao arrives at your door, a set of armor folded neatly in his arms, and a grim, apologetic look on his face. that night it is jingliu who sits by your side, letting you weep into her shoulder as she awkwardly and clumsily attempts to console you. grief burns through you like a wildfire, but jingliu is there, her presence soothing and cool like moonlight. you both fall asleep tangled in each other’s arms, finding that, if nothing else, there is comfort in shared loss.

the next morning, you ask her about it as you both still hold each other close. jingliu’s mouth opens and closes, struggling to choose the right words. “i swore to her that i’d protect you,” she answers. it makes you smile, just a little, even if grief still twists sharply in your heart.

“you’re protecting me by cuddling me?” you tease her, and her pale cheeks flush.

“that’s— i believed you might have needed—“ she stammers, and you cut her off by pressing closer against her cool body.

“i’m just teasing,” you whisper against her skin, arms tightening around her muscular form. as if to ground yourself, as if to assure yourself that she’s really here. “i appreciate it, jingliu. thank you.”

at your words, the warrior relaxes. her voice is barely higher than yours when she replies, tinged with a hint of tenderness. “of course.”

jingliu is different, after that. you guess that it’s because you are all she has left—much the same in how she is all you have left. there is a gentle awkwardness to her now, like someone who has never known how to be soft trying to learn for the first time. she sits patiently as she lets you fuss over her wounds, knowing that you need this, that you need to know she’s alright. she only looks away when you get a little too close, when she can feel the warmth of your breath on her skin, and she hopes you don’t notice (you do).

she comes to the house whenever she can, which feels just a little emptier without your mother’s commanding presence. she stands shoulder to shoulder next to you at the counter making dumplings, her rough, battle-scarred hands dwarfing your own more delicate ones—but she wraps the dumplings with finesse all the same. you eat them together, quietly, but the silence is comfortable. you know each other enough that words are unnecessary. these nights you can only ever fall asleep in her arms—and she can only ever fall asleep in yours. neither of you question it, but what is there to question anyway?

jingliu ends up being many of your firsts—including your first kiss. it happens on one of those nights, tangled in each other’s arms, with nothing but a sliver of moonlight to illuminate jingliu’s pale face. you feel her pulse jump under your touch, as your thumb traces the ridge of her cheekbones and your lips press gently against hers. kissing her is nothing grand, no fireworks or butterflies—just the quiet sense of finally coming home.

jingliu is your first time, too. her hands trail down your body with reverence, lips pressing kisses like prayers against your skin. she brings you to the edge of heaven with her fingers and her mouth until you lie boneless on the sheets. she kisses you while your essence is still smeared across her lips, and you eagerly return the favor.

jingliu is your first and only love. it’s the soft, quiet kind, more of a respite than a whirlwind in and of itself. a shelter where both of you can return to, when the world becomes too much. you’re there for each other at the lowest lows and the highest highs—jingliu attends the ceremony as you’re sworn in as the cauldron master of the alchemy commission, eyes trained only on you as you accept the honor. and you attend jingliu’s ascenscion ceremony for the title of sword champion, standing at the forefront of the crowd, a proud smile on your face. to jingliu, that is her true victory.

and yet, even as the sword champion, there are still things she fears—like telling you she loves you. it takes a grand amount of coaxing from her new friends—a blacksmith, a high elder, and a pilot, respectively—before she works up the courage. she whispers it against your neck one moonlit night, intertwined with you in the sheets. her voice trembles ever so slightly, her breath fanning unevenly against your skin, and she tenses when you laugh softly. but the tension bleeds out of her immediately when you say it back, and she slumps against you, as if the weight of the world had been lifted off her shoulders.

(baiheng and yingxing later force her to buy them drinks, and she does so, grudgingly. after all, they were right when they said there was no way you’d say anything other than ‘i love you too’. dan feng only attends for the free alcohol, but he is happy for her nonetheless.)

your marriage is a quiet affair—or as quiet as it can get, with baiheng and yingxing together on the guestlist. but it is perfect, to you and jingliu. the rings were crafted by yingxing, inlaid with stones baiheng discovered along the trailblaze. neither of you actually wear them on your fingers due to your jobs, but none other than dan feng gifts the both of you corded red rope to loop the rings through and wear as a necklace. it becomes your greatest treasure, even centuries down the line.

the next few months of your life are calm and routine—until jingliu returns home one day with a teenager, of all things. the boy has long, shaggy, white hair, and curious golden eyes. He reminds you of a cat.

“this is jing yuan,” jingliu introduces to you. “my disciple.”

the boy greets you politely, before jingliu sends him off to an empty room in your home for him to claim as his own. once the boy is out of sight, you turn to jingliu, quirking a brow.

“disciple?”

she nods. “yes. i believe he has potential.”

you only hum at her answer, stepping forward to fix her collar. she lets you fuss, as you always have, and then presses her lips against yours gently, her hands on your waist. “trust me,” she whispers, and you do.

jing yuan fits into your life more easily than you expected. a sharp-witted young man, quick with a blade but even quicker with his words. it isn’t long before you grow fond of him as well—in an almost parental sort of way. before you realise, you start fussing over him the way you fuss over jingliu. it seems you’re not the only one susceptible to jing yuan’s charm, since the newly formed high cloud quintet adore him just as much—baiheng, especially, is delighted to have another little brother figure besides yingxing. jingliu is no exception; the pride in her gaze as she watches jing yuan train is visible to anyone.

nowadays, your home feels fuller. it is no longer just you and hingliu making dumplings—another pair of hands, sometimes even another three appear to help. the dinner table is full more often than not, and there always seems to be more plates in the sink. sometimes you find purple fur on the floor, or the occasional jade-like scale in between your couch cushions. but joy, you learn, is fleeting. nnd no one ever notices it is here until it is gone, ripped from your hands before you can even blink.

jingliu is your first and only love. she is also your first and only heartbreak.

everything you’ve built with jingliu over the course of centuries crumbles in a matter of days. the battle against shuhu is vicious. you can barely even keep up against the constant stream of injured that flood the alchemy commission. you and your colleagues down energising pill after energising pill to stay on your feet and support the xianzhou forces. tet the news from the frontline would nonetheless bring you to your knees.

baiheng, dead. yingxing, cursed. dan feng, imprisoned. and worst of all—

jingliu, mara-struck.

the ten lords commission keep her under strict watch in a holding cell. you barely have the time to visit, what with the number of patients that demand your attention. jing yuan is the one who visits her, by his authority as the new arbiter general. he speaks to you when he can, updates you on her condition—but you’ve treated enough cases to know when something is bad, even if jing yuan tries to assuage you with purposefully vague wording.

she barely recognises you when you approach her. her beautiful ruby eyes are covered by a ragged, black cloth. thick, metal bindings encircle her wrists and restrain her arms behind her back. you call her name, quietly, gently, trying your hardest to stifle the tremble in your voice. sometimes, there is a flicker of recognition. most of the time, there is nothing.

you return to an empty house. it’s so, so cold, and your bed is far too big. you hold tightly to your ring, praying that jingliu be spared this fate. but the aeon does not listen.

because no more than a few months later, jingliu breaks free from her confinement, and rampages across the luofu. smoke chokes the air as ice and frigid wind sweeps across the epicenter that is jingliu. but instead of running away, you run towards her. the ice seems to part and melt before you as you run. you need to see her.

instead, all you witness is the majesty of the lightning lord, as he strikes down your beloved.

nothing remains of jingliu. they find no body, not even any remnants of armor or personal effects. after that, they strike her name from every record for her dishonor. all her achievements, her victories—erased. as if she never existed. you are forced to resign as cauldron master in shame, with your apprentice dan shu taking your place.

you feel… nothing. only a pervasive, parasitic emptiness spreading through your entire being. you spend your days in a bed in a guest room—you can’t bring yourself to set foot in the room you once shared with her. the kitchen lies deserted. you barely feel hunger or thirst, or any sort of sensation. and yet, you keep living. your cells respire and your lungs draw breath, and your heart still thumps in your chest—even as your soul rots and decays.

the only thing—or person, rather—that stirs you now somewhat is jing yuan. he has lost everyone too, this general who will always be that curious-eyed boy to you. you do your best to pick yourself up; if not for yourself, then for him.

(but jing yuan knows. he sees it in your eyes, the truth of the matter. the guilt that gnaws at you, that compels you to keep fussing over him.

you think that caring for him will help you atone for the way you failed jingliu. he wants to tell you that his master would’ve never thought such a thing. but he doesn’t, and lets you mother him all the same.

he needs this too.)

jing yuan appoints you as his personal healer, even as his advisors protest. they question your ability—after all, how could a good healer not even mend the one she loved most?

that moment is the first and last time you ever see jing yuan angry. it fades as quickly as it comes, however, and you are appointed as his personal healer nonetheless. you remain by his side for the next few centuries, watching as he grows more and more into the role of the general. the pain of your loss doesn’t heal—not fully, at least, but it scabs over.

still, you can’t help the ache in your chest when jing yuan approaches you one day, a young boy at his heels.

“this is my disciple, yanqing,” he introduces. the boy has flaxen hair, and expressive amber eyes. there’s a fire in them, a determination that you remember seeing in a pair of ruby ones. he greets you, politely and a little shyly.

it’s a painfully familiar scene, and the best you can manage is a wordless smile.

yanqing becomes another target of your fussing soon enough. he squirms when you check him over for injuries, insisting that he’s fine. the boy is incorrigibly stubborn. but in the end, he is still a boy. his enthusiasm, unmarred by grief and loss, brings a liveliness to your monotone life. you can’t help but sneak a few more extra strales into his pockets for swords when jing yuan isn’t looking.

(but he knows. jing yuan always knows.)

you are not happy, not truly, not without her, never without her, but for now you are content. the boys in your life give you reason enough to keep going.

yet your life turns upside down once more when the stellaron bursts on the luofu. jing yuan keeps you away from the whirlwind of conflict, assigning an elite squad of his knights to guard your house. it makes you curious, but the answer reveals itself to you only a few days after the crisis is resolved.

there, standing amidst the unconscious bodies of the cloud knights supposed to guard you, is none other than the ghost of your beloved.

she’s as beautiful as the day you lost her.

[bakedcrossaintt]

Kierabeth lives AU

thinking about a Kieran lives AU where he and Mary-Beth sense the gang's downfall and run away together during chapter 6. They try and find whatever work they can, struggling to get by while taking the odd job or farm work, but eventually save up enough to buy some property together, similar to how John and Abigail did. They'd build up a humble little farm with chickens and livestock and lots of horses. Kieran pours his whole heart into the farm, building a safe life for them like he'd always imagined, while Mary-Beth takes care of him in return and still gets to write her novels in her free time.

One day while John, Jack and Abigail are out on the wagon for a supply run, John reckognises Mary-Beth's horse hitched at the front of a little farmhouse and goes to investigate. Cue a heartwarming reunion scene when Mary-Beth opens the door and everyone is so thrilled to see her, especially Abigail is so happy she's doing well, until she calls into the house "Kieran! you've gotta see this!" and everyone's eyes go wide. Kieran comes downstairs looking healthier and happier than he ever has, well groomed and well fed with fancy new overalls and welcomes everyone in, while Mary-Beth proudly announces they just got married this month. More overjoyed fussing from Abigail and a congratulatory slap on the back from John to Kieran and soon they're all sitting at the table having soup together, catching up and reminiscing about old times ^^

From then on, their visits become regular. Abigail being happy to have another farmer's wife to talk to and John and Jack going fishing with Kieran every once in a while. I can also really see Jack connecting with Kieran over his gentle temperament, Kieran and Mary-Beth would be the perfect aunt and uncle to him. Mary-Beth would buy him books and talk to him about the stories he's reading while Kieran can be a second role model and adult to lean on when he feels like he can't talk to his dad.

One day while Abigail and Mary-Beth are sitting on the porch together, chatting and gossiping about farm work and their husbands, Mary-Beth suddenly turns to Abigail and announces that she’s pregnant and Abigail is so overjoyed. She'd immediately be so dedicated to take care of Mary-Beth during her pregnancy, giving her all the tips, knowledge and experience she's learned from when she was pregnant with Jack and making sure she felt supported every step of the way.

After all the hardship they had endured, getting to see this child grow up in a safe environment - with not just, but two caring families surrounding them - would feel like a second chance for everyone. It would be such a source of healing for them, watching a child grow up in a world free from the fear and chaos they once knew, knowing they could finally provide the stability they had always longed for.