#don’t mean to upset or maybe trigger anyone

[spooksforsammy]

The idea that “verbal voice good” “aac voice bad” or “verbal language good” “aac is harmful” is fucking shit and if you have the mindset fuck off and stop that shit

Your not better to have a voice that works how you want it to. Your not better if you don’t reply on AAC to communicate basic shit. Aac user deserves respect even if they can’t verbally say what they want and need help.

We are people. And even if we don’t see ourselves as humans (nonhuman) we still living being with feeling and thoughts and deserve respect.

If you don’t want to respect us fuck you and don’t expect anyone (especially aac users) to be nice to you. Cause personally, fuck you and have no problem saying that.

[live-laugh-lenney]

need some angst so bad — maybe where reader lives with george, arthurtv, chris — arthur major fancies her, but has noticed chris or george has been taking a liking to her, flirting, etc. maybe him getting jealous and confessing his love??? and if you wanted to spice it up a little, throw some angry sex in there

a new arthurtv fic that is yours to devour! there is lots going on in my current drafts and over on my google docs and a lot going of 'work in progress's that has been started - including 'locked in' which i know a lot of you have been asking about - and i'm hoping most of it will be with you guys soon! thank you for being so patient with me - life has thrown a few curve balls at me and i haven't been online as much as i hoped to be recently so it means a lot that you guys are sending in stuff to keep this stuff going, ha. <33 word count; 6.8k ** TRIGGER WARNINGS; SMUT, FOUL LANGUAGE, ANGST **

"He's been such a grump tonight."

YN looked over her shoulder and in the direction of where Arthur was sat sporting an unhappy look on his face; his lips pouted and in a sunken manner that she hadn’t seen a smile on all day, slouched down on the sofa and barely interested in the party happening around him nor the music that was clinging to the atmosphere of the room, with his eyes glued to his phone screen and his thumb tapping away as he scrolled his socials to distract and distance himself from the rest of the room. Keeping away from the chaos of the house party, where the majority of their friends had gathered to celebrate YN’s decision in moving in, was going on.

"He’s been weird with me all day," YN admitted and Chris couldn’t help but give her a strange look, eyebrows furrowed on his forehead, "I don't know what I’ve done wrong, or whether I’ve said anything to upset him, but he's barely spoken a word to me all night. I could have sworn he was so excited for this to happen."

"That is weird."

"I honestly don't know what I’ve done so I don’t know how to make it up to him or how to apologise to get him to come over and enjoy himself," YN frowned, turning in her chair and tearing her attention away from Arthur and looking back to Chris, clasping tighter to the red solo cup that held her drink in her hand, taking a sip from the straw that was peeking over the rim, the top completely sodden and chewed upon yet she couldn't be bothered to get up and grab a brand new one from the cupboard, "we're all having fun over here. Playing games, having a good time, singing and dancing, drinking all the booze. And there he is, grumpy and antisocial, sitting by himself and barely involving himself with anyone."

Chris leaned over the small gap between their stools and squeezed YN’s knee reassuringly, acting as a silent 'don't worry about it for now’, before retracting his hand after a brief moment so he could finish off the dribble of his vodka and soda left behind in his cup. Standing to his feet, he held his hand out and pulled YN from the stool she was sitting upon, with his intentions being to get her another drink because it seemed like she needed it. He could read Arthur like a book, having known him since they were school kids, and he didn’t want YN to get upset over the man having a moment of uncertainty in his own mind… a moment where Chris could tell Arthur was suffocating in a room full of those he was closest to.

"Let’s get a refill and join in with George’s game of 'ring of fire'. Take your mind off of him being grumpy. Everyone else is here for you tonight, yeah? Let’s enjoy that."

"I’m not sure I want to. Look at the state of that pint glass," YN frowned and looked at the glass in the middle of the dining table, filled with a concoction of god-knows-what. No doubt a mix of lagers and ciders as well as the spirits that everyone seemed to be on, "if I drink whatever they’ve mixed there, then I will definitely spew everywhere and christen the toilet in a way that won’t be pretty."

Chris couldn’t help but roll his eyes - there was no way she would turn down a drinking game and it made him feel internally frustrated knowing she was doubting her enjoyment because of Arthur feeling sorry for himself. It wasn’t like her to not get involved, to turn down an offer of shots, to stay away from the excitement of the party happening around her. He stood beside her at the kitchen counter, where there were bottles of half-filled Smirnoff and Gordons as well as Southern Comfort and Sourz littered around, and he topped up his drink with a lot more than a double vodka, simply eyeballing the amount of alcohol he wanted in his drink and YN couldn’t help but laugh at how his glass was practically more than half mixer and half booze. Following suit, without a care in the world on how much Southern Comfort she tipped into her used cup because she felt she’d gotten to that point of the night where the taste of alcohol had disappeared, pouring lemonade on top and watching as the bubbles almost fountained down the side.

And yet she couldn’t help herself, once she grasped her drink in her hand, from looking over her shoulder to see if Arthur wanted another beer opened. A peace offering, if you will, to clear the air between them and start fresh. She hadn’t seen him get up all night, nursing the same bottle of Peroni for over an hour and a half, and she was certain it was probably warm and very flat and not so pleasant to enjoy. Except her eyes landed on an empty sofa cushion, where he once sat, with his unfinished Peroni bottle forgotten about on the coffee table.

"Where did he go?"

Chris shrugged, "forget about him for the moment. Can we, at least, go and have a dance or something then? if you won't play a drinking game, at least have a boogie? This is so unlike you, YN. You’re usually the life of the party."

"I might go and see if I can find Arthur first," she stated and she turned back to look at him, a pang of guilt bouncing around in her chest when she saw Chris’ face drop with sadness, "I’m only going to see what's wrong with him. Maybe I can coax a smile off of him, get him to come out and have some fun. It doesn’t feel the same without him here. He needs to be here."

She turned away from the counter and stepped in the direction of the fridge, which was once filled with beer and chilled ciders as opposed to its usual job of chilling their day-to-day food, and pulled out a fresh, cold bottle of beer in her free hand, uncapping it with a bottle opener before worming her way through her friends, insisting she'd be back in a moment when they asked her to join in with them. With Sabina trying her hardest to pull her in the direction of the excitement, and George looking at her with a pleading look because he needed help in the game he suggested they play, and she could feel Chris following her until he took the empty seat beside Arthur Hill and tried his best to fit in to the game that must have been near completion. 

Her feet took her towards the small hallway that led to the bedrooms of the flat, stepping foot in front of the door that was opposite to hers and tapping her knuckle against the wood softly, tentatively calling out his name at a volume he should have been able to hear her.

"Arthur?"

She used her elbow to push on the handle so the door would open and, to no surprise, she found him sitting on the edge of his bed. His phone had been chucked in a frustrated throw, by the looks of how and where it had landed on the mattress beside him, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands with his fingers digging deep into his eyes as the silence of his room was broken by her voice. 

"Arthur, are you okay? You’ve been-"

"I’m fine."

It wasn't said maliciously but it had been said with a tone that felt harsh, snapping at her suddenly and it took her aback, the look on his face stern and unhappy and it dawned on her that she must have done something to upset him for him to speak in such a way. And she wanted to find out what so she could live with him (as well as George, Chris and Arthur Hill) with no animosity in the air to bring the mood down.

She stepped further inside his bedroom with a plan on breaking the barrier he had built to keep her away because she wanted to work things out, right then and there, kicking the door shut with her heel and hearing it click closed at the door frame.

"Something is wrong with you, Arthur. You’re bringing the enjoyment of the night down."

"Then go back out there and leave me alone. I didn’t ask for you to come and find me, YN."

His words hung heavy in the air and YN took a deep inhale of breath, trying not to let his mood and his words derail her on her plan to get him to come out and enjoy the celebrations happening on the other side of his bedroom door. Because she wanted him to come back out to enjoy everything with everyone, she wanted him to partake in celebrating this new venture for her and for the friends she was moving in with, she wanted Arthur back to his usual self. The anger in his words, the tone that wasn’t his usual tone, struck her inside and she could feel her heart beating heavy and fast behind her ribs, yet she held her ground.

"I don't want to go back out there whilst you’re so upset," she insisted, holding out the beer for him to take, "I brought you a Peroni in, a fresh one, because George is necking them like there's no tomorrow and they’ll-"

"I don't want it."

"At least-"

"YN, I said no," he grumbled lowly and looked at her properly, brown eyes dark and his jaw was tense, her eyes widening ever so slightly at his attitude, "go back out there with Chris. I’m sure he's wondering where you are."

YN scoffed heavily and shook her head in disbelief, setting the opened beer bottle down on the desk before placing her own cup next to it, stepping towards him and he stood up from the bed to move away from her. Shaking her head at how his assumptions - his silly and stupid guesses - had brought out a side that no one had ever seen come from Arthur.

"Is that why you're angry with me?"

"What?"

"You’re angry with me because I’ve spent more time with Chris tonight than you? Because I'm having a good time with him at my own moving-in party?" She questioned him and his eyes sporadically darted around his bedroom so he didn't have to look in her direction, chewing on the inside of his cheek because she could see right through him and he didn’t want her to know that… because, of course, she was right. "I’m right, aren't I? You’re jealous?"

"I’m not," he hissed, "I just don't feel like I’m in the partying mood."

"Rubbish, Arthur. That is total bollocks," YN cried out, "you were raving on and on and on about this party the other day. You went out and brought all the booze for us. The food. You were the most excited out of all of us to welcome me into this flat."

"Yeah, well… I guess things change, YN."

"Not as drastically as you’ve just changed over your stupid assumptions," she fired back at him in a tone that almost matched his, yet she couldn’t bring herself to speak to him so harshly, placing her hands on her hips and popping a hip, "Arthur, come on. what's the matter?"

The silence of the bedroom was thick with tension. Suffocating. Thick enough to be cut with a butcher's knife. And she could feel it as she stood and waited for an answer to roll off of his tongue. An answer that would come out sounding like an excuse as to why he wanted to hide away from everyone, with a frown pinching the features together on his face to accompany how he felt, instead of enjoying the party with all his friends as they celebrated this new venture they were about to embark on.

His heart was pumping behind his ribs, his hands turning into fists on either side of his body, and it took everything within him not to grab her face and project his feelings through the form of physicality rather than verbally, a desire to cover ravenous kisses along the expanse of her neck, showing her just what the problem was.

Because she was the problem.

He hated the way she had taken Chris up on his offer on going out for dinner before they joined in with the party later on that evening and he hated the way she was so excited to go out with him and how it was all she went on about for most of that day. He hated the way he had to help her choose an outfit to wear because she couldn't decide what looked better on her and he hated how she'd been around his friend all evening as opposed to hanging around with him. He hated how she made no effort to keep him included, how he wasn’t a priority during the night, how she seemed to be much happier talking to Chris than she had ever been with him. 

Which, if you asked YN, she would retort because of how ridiculous he sounded.

She didn’t think of it as a date and Chris had made it clear that it was just “lunch with a friend” to welcome her into the flat and explain how it was going to be the craziest path she’d gone down, and nothing but that. 

"Fine, you want to know?"

She nodded with no hesitation.

"You."

"Me?"

She pressed a hand to her chest and he could see the hurt in her eyes as she looked at him, her lips parted and her cheeks bright pink once she managed to look at him, her eyes beginning to water at each of the corners yet she refused to let any of her tears fall down her cheeks because he didn’t deserve them. In that moment, he was acting like an ass and she hated the man that was standing before her, glum and in a mood that had ruined what had been a good day. 

He didn’t deserve the attention was giving him… yet she couldn’t bring herself to turn on her heels and walk out the door.

"Yes," he said, "you. You've been the problem the whole night. In fact, all day. You've been a problem all day."

"What did I do?"

Her voice was shaky and she didn’t think she could trust herself to say anything in fear she let her true feelings come clear for him. Keeping her words short, to the point and brief, because she could feel the lump in her throat beginning to burn, making it hard to swallow and making her head ache. The tears built up more and more as it became tougher to hold them back and he could see them glistening underneath the bedroom lighting. He could see the upset he was causing yet he couldn’t stop himself from carrying on.

"Is Chris the reason you moved in with us? Because you just want to be near him all the time? You crave the male attention so much that you took us up on our offer so you could be closer to him?" Arthur questioned her intensely and she gasps, breath catching in her throat and she gulps back what she wanted to say, "I get the feeling, after today, that you love the attention he's given you."

"Arthur-"

"No, it’s my turn to speak since you wanted to know what the problem was," he held up his arm and lifted his finger to his lips for her to keep quiet, "all night, you've been hanging off of him. Standing with him, barely leaving his side, letting him get you drinks. You have other guests here and you choose to stand with him all night."

"He's my friend-"

"That’s total bollocks," he mocked her and she frowned heavily at him, "friends don't go out for romantic dinners. Friends don't touch each other's knees. Friends don't go to a party and pretend to be the only ones in the room."

"I-"

"You’re oblivious to everything, YN.”

He paused, and he really wanted to stop himself from talking because he couldn’t bear to look in her teary eyes for any longer and shout at her as he tried to navigate through his thoughts and his feelings and the emotions that came with it. And it dawned on him, in that moment, that he’d definitely taken it too far… 

“YN, you’re oblivious to me."

He swallowed thickly and, in that moment, he took in the look on her face that he really wished he hadn't seen. The way her eyes glistened under the gentle light of his room, the way she picked at her fingers as she tried to busy her mind, the way she stared at the ground once she saw him looking at her and not in the direction of his face.

"YN-"

"No, Arthur, please carry on," she whispered, "tell me how much of a slag I am for the male attention. Specifically from a man I have no interest in."

"I never called you a slag, for god sake," he said, rolling his head back and digging the heels of his hands into his eyes, groaning heavily in annoyance, "YN-"

"I wasn't trying to be a problem for you, Arthur. I didn’t think anything of it. Me and Chris, it was nothing. We never went on a date and nothing happened tonight. Whatever you think happened, it didn’t," she looked up from the carpet and took a look at his features, his eyes softer than they were before and he looked almost apologetic, "I don't like him like that."

"You really could have fooled me," Arthur grumbled and she rolled her eyes at him, "seriously."

"He’s fresh out of a relationship, Arthur. I don't think he's looking for anything," YN said, "I wouldn't do that to Shannon anyway. It’s girl-code not to go for a friend's ex-boyfriend. It’s not right and I’m not going to ruin a friendship for a man who has been my friend for years."

He perched himself back down on the edge of the bed, just inches from where he had sat before, and let his back fall against the mattress with a heavy groan releasing from deep within his gut. Almost sounding embarrassed for jumping the gun, for assuming, for not being a grown man and, instead, acting like a schoolboy who had just had his heart broken by his first crush. And as much as she wanted to sit beside him, to calm the atmosphere down and to give him an understanding explanation that was a lot more chilled out now they’d taken a moment to breathe, YN couldn't help but stand and watch him as he covered his face with his hands. She felt nervous just standing in the middle of his bedroom, unsure of whether she should leave him to wallow in self-pity or stay and work things through with him, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

"If you weren't so anti-social tonight and kept yourself away from the party, you would have realised that me and Chris were talking about you," YN broke the silence, taking slow steps towards to where he was sprawled out on his bed and sitting herself down beside him, her thigh connecting with his, "I was talking about you, Arthur. Because I care about you, you’re probably my best friend out of the four of you living here, and me and you… we were so excited to finally be living under the same roof. I wanted you out there, I wanted you next to me and in the conversation so I could talk to you."

He refused to look at her, burying his head further into the palms of his hands because the more she spoke, the worse he felt. She wrapped both her hands around his wrists to pry them both from his face, revealing the guilty look that pinched his features together once he’d realised he’d overreacted over something that he’d created in his mind. His eyes stayed trained upon his ceiling, as much as he wanted to look at her and take in her appearance, because he knew he’d cave once he made eye contact with her. She let go of his wrists and he clasped his hands together and rested them on his chest.

"Why?"

"Because it felt weird that you weren't involving yourself like you normally do. I wanted you to come and enjoy the party with us," YN admitted, "with me."

"You could have invited me over," he grumbled and, eventually, he shifted his vision and looked at her, his eyes no longer looking dark and were filled with a little more emotion, soft and sweet and like his usual self, "I’m sorry. I guess I got a little jealous."

"A little?"

"Okay," he puffed out a breath and laughed softly and she smiled, watching as he sat himself up and twisted his body around so he could look at her face-on rather than with a craned neck to the side, "a lot. I got jealous and let it come between us."

"I don't like Chris like that. He's my friend. Now my roommate. I don’t want him. But, you," she took both of his hands in her own and squeezed them tightly with her fingers, letting her thumb brush over the skin just below his knuckles, "you're just something special, Arthur Frederick. You have me intrigued."

The way his full name rolled off of her tongue erupted something inside of him that felt volcanic hot and he longed to hear it again.

"How so?"

"I want to explore you," she brought her bottom lip between her teeth and she chewed on the soft and pink flesh and he could have sworn his cock twitched in his trousers at the momentary look she gave him as she gave her lip a nibble, "all of you, Arthur. I want you. I don't want anyone out there. I don’t want Chris. I want you. I’ve always wanted you."

"Then have me," he whispered, low and raspy and the way his breath fanned across her face made her feel weak at the knees and she knew she would have fallen to the floor if she was standing so she was thankful for the soft material beneath her that kept her a little more stable in the situation, "I'm all yours, YN."

And that’s all it took.

The party outside the door faded away and the space between them became minimal and, as their breaths mixed together, he brought his hands up to cup her cheeks perfectly in his palms, bringing her closer in hopes to close off the gap between their bodies and not just their lips, hastily and quickly in a kiss that the two of them had longed to endure for a while. His lips tasted like beer whilst hers tasted like lemonade and a hint of whiskey from the Southern Comfort liquor she’d been sipping on all night, his favourite taste on someone who’d become his favourite person, and it only enticed him to deepen their kiss. Her arms hung around his neck, fingers clasping around the hairs at the nape of his neck, to encourage the encounter happening between them to become more lust-filled, more deeper.

“Are you sure about this?”

She felt her back hit the mattress as they shuffled into a more comfortable position on the bed, her head sinking into the pillow that cradled from her neck and up, and it wasn’t long before the view of the ceiling was intercepted by his face and her breath hitched in her throat. His hair fell over his forehead, eyes drunk on the sight of the girl he’d been longing for beneath him, forearms placed either side of her head and he used his upper body strength to prop himself up above her. 

“I’m sure,” she whispered, her resolve staying calm and steady and unwavering as the moment presented itself perfectly, “so sure.”

She brought his head down to her level using the grip she had clasped into his hair and their lips joined together in yet another devouring kiss, his tongue on a mission for entry into her mouth, which made her stomach tingle and her fingers tighten around his hair. His tongue collided with hers, muscle fighting muscle, and she could see why he was so proud in telling the world that it was his strong muscle in his body. The atmosphere had changed from a suffocating and tense feeling where neither of them could bear to look at the other to a slightly more unbearable and suffocating sexual tension that felt like a scratch both of them needed to itch. His lips worked their way down her jawline, peppering wet and open-mouthed kisses across her skin, before his face disappeared into the crook of her neck. Slowly lowering his body upon hers, one knee keeping her legs from closing fully and one keeping him stable and holding some of his weight so he wasn’t squashing her. Nibbling at her flesh, sucking and leaving marks behind that he wanted everyone to see once they walked out of his bedroom, and deep down, he wanted Chris to see. In hopes that he’d get the hint that she was his and no one else’s. That she wanted him and had eyes for no one else. That their date, that she said wasn’t a date but was definitely a date in Chris’ eyes, meant nothing but lunch with a friend. That he was one of the reasons why she was now living across the hallway and not across the city.

The feeling of his stubble scratching at the skin of her neck brought goosebumps up on the surface of her arms, the way his weight situated upon her and the way his hands roamed her body sent a shiver down her spine, and the way she felt his breath fan across the skin of her exposed collarbone made her sink deeper into the mattress beneath her. Certain that she had melted into a puddle, much like a snowman melting on a warm winter’s afternoon. The noise of the party just outside his bedroom door went completely forgotten about. The muffled bass of the music pounding the walls, yet neither of them cared for the people out in the living room because they were too sucked in with being with each other.

It wasn’t long before she found her fingers undoing the buttons of his shirt, shoving the material off of his shoulders to reveal the sleeper build he kept from the internet, his body sitting up for a moment so he could shrug it off and throw it aimlessly in the room, going completely forgotten about for the moment, and landing in a place in his room that he didn’t really obsess over because he was desperate to get back to the taste of her. His hands repaying the favour as he slid his hands underneath the hem of her t-shirt and he used his wrists to slide it over her head, revealing the plump swells of her breasts decorated with a lavender laced bra that cupped them perfectly. 

“I’d like to think you wore this for me.”

“How do you know I didn’t?” She whispered in response, unknowing of the ache in his belly that had started to form, “how do you know I didn’t anticipate this?”

She felt exposed as she lay beneath him, her chest on full show, as he looked like a hungry schoolboy drinking in her appearance in a fantasy he dreamt about too frequently. The only piece of clothing still attached to her body being the ripped jeans that gave less to the imagination; hanging loose around her hips with a slight rip at one knee and a gaping hole on her opposite thigh that ran down to her other knee. 

“You drive me crazy,” he admitted, leaning back as his fingers worked on undoing the button of his trousers and it enticed her to do the same, toying with the button of her jeans so she could give him the opportunity to pull them free from her legs, “I’d have made a move sooner if I wasn’t so stupid in my feelings.”

“You weren’t stupid, you idiot,” she rolled her eyes at his dramatics and watched as he pushed away from her body and back onto his knees, awkwardly shuffling out of his trousers and kicking them off the edge of the bed, letting them fall in a heap at his bedside and revealing the hardening bulge that stretched his boxers to accommodate his throbbing and pulsing cock. She felt herself tingle between her legs at just how he was feeling in the moment and she was glad he was eager for this to happen as much as she was, “we don’t need to dwell on that now, right? Don’t ruin the moment, Arthur. Not now.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmured, digging his fingers into the waistband of her jeans and giving them a tug to reveal the matching, lavender-laced pair of knickers that matched her bra, “christ.”

“Come on, silly boy, what are you waiting for?” 

She lifted her legs and watched as he pulled the denim from over her ankles, tossing them behind his head and she watched as the material nearly wiped his desk clean, knocking over his pen pot that spilled over his desktop. Something he could worry about once the morning came along. He didn’t seem to care, though, as he pressed his face into the flesh of her stomach and let his mouth drag across her skin. Skin that was so soft and so smooth against his stubble-dusted cheeks and, with a deep inhale, she smelt like the coconut shower gel that lingered in the steam of the bathroom after she was finished with her shower. Her fingers combed his hair as his curled into the elastic of her knickers, pulling them free from his skin having left tiny indentations upon her hips, as she couldn’t have anticipated the moment more.

“Fuck the foreplay, Arthur.”

“But-”

“I need you.”

It came out as a beg and she didn’t care how pathetic or needy she sounded to him. She was desperate to feel him slide between her dampened walls, that were calling out for him, screaming to feel satisfied by his touch. As much as she wanted to be devoured by his mouth, she just needed to feel something better. Arthur's eyes darkened with desire at her words and he paused for just a moment, searching her face to make sure she was certain. And, when she gave him an eager nod of encouragement and gave him the answer he was hoping for, he wasted no more time.

“Another time then,” he grumbled with a rasp in his throat, “trust me, I’ll have you on my tongue next time.”

That made her feel giddy.

Next time.

Oh, there was definitely going to be a next time.

There was no way she wanted this to be a one time, drunken night spent with him after a silly argument where they had finally confessed a tiny inkling of their feelings towards each other. She was obsessed with his touch, his stare, the way he focused his attention on her in a room and she was under a spell when he had her right where he wanted her. A spell cast upon her, and only her, when he spoke so eloquently and intriguingly.

The room was spinning and she felt even drunker; maybe the many Southern Comfort’s she’d necked prior to this moment, in the kitchen mixed with dribbles of lemonade, didn’t help but he definitely had a way with words that made her knees- no, her entire body, go weak.

“We’ll have to see how well you do here,” she grinned cheekily and he shook his head in amusement, “don’t make me wait any longer, Arthur. I need you.”

And he obeyed.

She watched him intently as he dug his hand beneath the elastic waistband of his boxers and pulled them down to the tops of his thighs, wrapping his fingers around the girth of his length and giving himself a couple of pumps with his wrist before he situated himself above her. He positioned himself between her legs, his eyes locked on hers as he slowly pushed inside her, wanting to watch every emotion that tore through her body, eliciting a soft gasp from between her lips as she welcomed him into her warmth. The feeling of him stretching her, filling her completely, had her insides burning with ecstasy. He paused for a moment, letting her adjust to his size, waiting for her to give him the go ahead to continue.

"You okay?" he whispered, his face inches from hers, “tell me if it hurts and I’ll stop.”

YN nodded, wrapping her legs around his waist to pull him closer, gulping back the moan that was bubbling to escape, knowing she wouldn’t be able to keep her volume at a level that kept their escapade a secret.

"Perfect," she breathed out slowly, “it feels perfect.”

Arthur started to move, setting a steady rhythm as he rocked his hips against hers, and YN clung to his shoulders tightly. Her nails digging into his skin as pleasure coursed through her body, leaving tiny crescent-shaped indents in his skin, decorating his shoulders with a mark of the satisfaction she was feeling. Their lips meeting, again, in a passionate kiss that muffled their moans as the party continued just outside the door.

"Fuck," Arthur groaned, dropping his forehead to rest against hers as he bottomed out and let the pleasure take over his entirety, "you feel amazing."

YN wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him even closer as she adjusted to his size. After a moment, she rolled her hips experimentally, urging him to move and he took the hint and began to thrust, starting with slow, deep strokes that had YN arching her back in pleasure.

"More," she panted, digging her nails into his shoulders, "faster, Arthur."

He obliged, picking up the pace and angling his hips to hit that perfect spot inside her with each thrust. The room filled with an array of sounds; the sloppiness of his thrusts as he pleased her with his throbbing length, the heaviness of his breathing that escaped from his parted lips as he gave her exactly what she wanted with an amount of effort that he hoped was enough to show her how much he longed for what was happening, the sultry moans and appraisals that flowed off her tongue each time he managed to press at her internal buttons that had her squirming beneath him and gripping his skin tighter. The pounding of the bass music happening just outside the door getting even more muffled by how they weren’t holding back on keeping non-verbal.

He could feel the knot in his stomach unravelling every time she tightened her walls around him and, in his own clouded mind, he was hoping she was getting as close to a climax as he was. His thumb rubbing circles beneath her clitoral hood and her hands came up to hold either side of his face, keeping his eyes on hers.

“Please,” he whispered softly down to her, “do it with me, yeah?”

She nods in response and gulps back the thick lump in her throat, his thumb working harder on rubbing continuous circles on the small ball of nerves between her folds, her legs quivering around his hips and he could feel the way the hold on his face was loosening around his cheeks. Moan after moan after moan escaping her gaping mouth and her hands come down to cover her eyes, feeling the white hot and piercing knot in her stomach screaming out to loosen up, her toes curling as she allowed herself to lose control and release all the built up tension in her body that came with the pleasure he was applying to tiny bundle of nerves. His orgasm soon followed suit, painting her stomach with his release, his groans becoming slightly more guttural and raspy and she combed her fingers through his hair as he dribbled the last few drops onto her skin.

He fell on the bed beside her, adjusting his boxers so he maintained a slight amount of modesty, gulping back the dryness in his throat that made him crave that Peroni she had entered his bedroom with. Her heavy breathing made her chest rise and fall, his own chest falling rapidly rhythmically, and their elongated heavy exhales were the only thing that kept the room from complete silence - that and the music coming from the speakers in the living room… and oh boy, were they glad of that because it saved an awkward conversation once they left the room to join the rest of their friends.

“What do we do now?”

“I think,” he paused for a moment…

… and YN thought it was to add some effect to the words he wanted to say yet in his own mind, that was still clouded and fuzzy from the post-orgasm feeling, he wasn’t entirely sure what their next move was. He was still trying to find the words to explain how he had longed for the moment where he got to kiss her, how he wanted to hold her, how he had thought about the kind of intimacy they brought to the bedroom.

“I think we get you cleaned up first and then we go from there,” he laughed and she suddenly felt a little dirty. Not that it was a dirty act or anything but it was made more apparent to her that what had happened had actually happened and it wasn’t a dream or a daydream, “yeah?”

She hid her face in the crook of his neck and nodded gently, a slight wash of embarrassment wavering over her as she tried to ignore how she was covered in the ending of his arousal, and felt his lips press against her hairline.

“But I think we figure out the next move together,” he suggested, craning his neck so he could look down at her, her forehead glistening with a thin sheen of sweat and her eyes were glossed over, yet they held a form of passion that had his tummy tingling and had him unable to look away, “there’s no denying what just happened. We might as well see what happens next.”

“But what does it mean for us?” She wondered curiously, a hint of hope in her words that his next sentence was going to be something she wanted to hear, “what do we figure out together?”

“I think we give it a shot,” he said, “I’m not letting you go. Not now, not ever. And I’m game to try us out if you are.”

There’s a silence that falls around the room, broken ever so slightly by a brief cheer of appraisal at the change of song happening out in the living room area, and he doesn’t need to hear her verbal answer to his question. The gentle squeeze she gave him, from the arm draped over his hip, was all he needed to know she was game for whatever life threw at them next.

There’s a silence that falls around the room, broken ever so slightly by a brief cheer of appraisal at the change of song happening out in the living room area, and he doesn’t need to hear her verbal answer to his question. The gentle squeeze she gave him, from the arm draped over his hip, was all he needed to know she was game for whatever life threw at them next. 

“I’m glad you didn’t stay mad at me,” she whispered softly, looking up at him as he looked down at her, sweat covering his skin and his fringe sticking to his forehead, “you’re the last person I want to upset, Arthur. Ever.”

“You didn’t upset me,” he responded, a lopsided smile on his lips that was full of tiredness but complete euphoria, “it was me that upset me. My own fault for being jealous and blinded by my own assumptions, I guess. I never actually bothered to know the truth and I should have just grown up and told you how I felt from the beginning.”

“I might have to make you jealous a bit more often,” she giggled softly, placing her hand flat against his stomach, “I think that was the best sex I’ve ever had. With anyone.”

“Don’t flatter me,” he snorted out a laugh and stretched an arm out around her shoulders and pulled her closer into his side, “do you think we can enjoy this moment a bit longer or should we go and show our faces out there?”

“Soon,” she closes her eyes in content and lets out a heavy, happy and satisfied sigh, “let's just enjoy this moment for a little bit longer. Let them wonder.”

if you got this far then thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed this one as much as i enjoyed writing it... it's definitely one i'm proud of! my inbox is always open, too, so feel free to send in some ideas and flood my messages with stuff you guys wanna talk about! x

[a-star-that-burns-brightly]

[ content warning: discussion of in-canon sexual abuse ] Maybe it’s just because I’m not too active in the ALNST fandom and mostly observe from afar, but I think this fandom brushed aside way too quickly the fact that Till was sexually assaulted. I have never seen anyone talk in depth about like, what that actually means in terms of his arc and the storytelling of his character. Which I find deeply, deeply upsetting because holy fucking shit.

This man right here has been told, basically his entire life, that not only is he himself not worthy of being treated as a human, but that his body is not his body, but a piece of property that can be owned. And whoever owns his property can use it for whatever, and however they wish. Now, dehumanization is nothing new or unique in this world, obviously. The very concept of Pet Humans is dehumanizing by nature, leaving all six of our main characters as victims to it, even those who are more well-off like Mizi. But Till is a specially fucked up case almost distinctly unlike the rest, because he is actually treated like a fucking dog.

(x) Ivan: If you keep rebelling like that, they won’t ever remove your collar you know? Till: This annoying bastard… — Ivan: I told you so, didn’t I? You didn’t listen? Till: This annoying bastard... (translation courtesy of @leiikos on youtube)

(x)

An unruly animal who needs to be leashed up and put in it’s place. Animals, as is common knowledge, are not on the same level as a human being. But they are ordained to follow the commands of those above them. And if someone (thing) isn’t doing as it is told…

It deserves to be taught better. But I’m getting ahead of myself. This is the mindset that has followed Till his entire life by the ones who were supposed to take care of him. He is not human, even less human than the existing inhuman. He is a pet, even more so than the other pets, an animal. A thing. Property. Something to own. And the best thing about owning something?

You gain the ability to do whatever you want to it. Till’s body was not his from the start. It was used as something to toy around with, experiment with, to train and train and train, presumably for his whole life. His body, his skin, his flesh and bone and blood, it was all nothing more than a plaything. So what if he screams? Just ignore it. Or don’t. If this competition has taught us anything, voices have the most value of all. On top of it being reinforced that Till is not deserving of humanity, he is also not deserving of his bodily autonomy. People are free to do whatever they want with his body because it’s not his body, it’s theirs. And that brings us, finally, to the scene itself

He can’t sing her song, he refuses to. This isn’t the first time he’s refused to do something, far from it actually. What was once an innocent puppy with dilated hope in his eyes has grown into an angry, disobedient mutt. And we know what happens to an animal that refuses to do what they’re told. But there’s something interesting about dogs, or rather about the ones they descended from, the wolf: When the circumstances call for it, they will bite the hand that’s supposed to feed them.

And here is where I intrude to remind you that this is the only time we see anyone physically fighting back against the aliens in the confines of Alien Stage. We see Hyuna and Mizi fucking up aliens in All In, but that was after they had escaped from the cage. And you could make a case for Mizi trying to escape the grasp of the guards that grabbed her in Ruler of My Heart, but from what we saw she didn’t actually lay a hand on them and more so just tried to force herself out of their grasp. though if you disagree with me on that that's fine Here though? Till has this bitch’s face grabbed into his palm with a bottle in hand ready to smash it directly in between it’s eyes. I consider this to be the first act of physical violence shown against the aliens within the uncomfortably tight enclosure. And it’s triggered not because of anything personally done to Till, which on its own could probably fill a list that reaches the ground. But because of the prospect of Mizi being dead. Till knows that this place is shit, that his life is shit. Said so directly on his profile.

Dislikes: Everyone, including Guardian Urak (translation courtesy of @kh47uo on twitter)

But he stays regardless because Mizi is there. If Mizi is dead, Till has absolutely nothing to lose…Right?

I can almost imagine him thinking: There’s nothing you can put me through that’s worse than every other way you’ve hurt me. …But there was. Oh there was.

A final, disgusting message to the pet to put him back in his place. Back on his leash. Making sure he will never forget where he stands for the rest of his days.

And that is really what the sexual assault of Till represents to me. It is a cruel reminder to Till that fighting back is impossible, having hope, being free, it might as well be a fool's fantasy. He will always be less-than-human, less than anything. His body will always be the property of the ones that were supposed to protect him, claimed, and then used used used until it’s worn out and dead.

And the aliens chose to exemplify that fact in the most direct way they possibly could.

So what if he screams? Just ignore it. Or don’t. If this competition has taught us anything, screams have the most value of all

[lizardaggro]

on the flip side (twst bully!au) part 4

sorry this didn't get out sooner; my sleep issues are really upset (might be daylight savings?) and i spent most of the past few days feeling like a zombie. i'm better now though! it's also a bit shorter than i'd like, but i didn't want to leave you guys hanging. also two fics? in one day?? crazy!

part 1 part 2 part 3 genre: gn reader, angst trigger warnings: bullying, yandere has officially escalated word count: 897

“Child of man,” Malleus said. Even his voice felt suffocating. “Lilia has informed me that some… pests have been bothering you as of late.” He must mean the others. Did he really not know? Well, you supposed it wasn’t too farfetched, since he didn’t have any friends and everyone was afraid of him, especially after his Overblot. “You need only have let me know and I would have… taken care of them. But worry not. You’ll be safe here, where no one would dare to harm you.”

Oh no. Oh no no no. It was finally happening. Malleus had lost his mind. It felt a little nice, you’d admit, knowing that at least one person still cared for you. But that didn’t mean you could accept being trapped here for who knows how long. You still had to take care of Grim and attend classes. Not to mention you hated feeling trapped.

You knew you couldn’t count on anyone to save you. Lilia was the only one who might be able to make him see reason, but he seemed to be fully complicit in the matter. The dorm leaders might be somewhat capable if they worked together, but they’d have no motive for that, other than to torment you further.

Getting angry and yelling wouldn’t solve anything here. You had to be smart about it. “Tsunotarou, I can’t stay here. You know that,” you reasoned. “I have responsibilities to take care of. Besides, wouldn’t you grow tired of me? Everyone else did, after all.” You surprised yourself with how true your sentiments were. Maybe you harbored more negative feelings about all of this than you’d realized.

Naturally you were pissed that everyone turned on you, but you’d never really stopped to think about how lonely you’d been. Even your professors would hardly give you the time of day. You didn’t even know what you possibly could’ve done to set them off. Grim and the ghosts were the only ones whose attitudes never changed; but it wasn’t the same.

Malleus was pouting; there was simply no other way to describe the look on his face. “Surely you don’t mean that; not after everything they’ve done,” he quipped. Was he serious? In what way did he think you’d enjoy being trapped inside one tiny room for who knows how long?

“Yes. I do. And I don’t appreciate you taking away my freedom like this. If you really cared about me, you’d respect my wishes.” You hoped appealing to his emotions would work, no, you needed it to work. If it didn’t, you weren’t sure how long your sanity would last.

“I do care about you, Child of Man,” he objected. “Can’t you see that’s why I’m doing this? It isn’t safe out there. You’ll get hurt by those vile beings you once called friends.” He spat out that last word, like they were undeserving of the title. You didn’t know how to feel about that.

There was one thing you did know, however: this man was delusional. He’d gone paranoid with worries for your safety, even though he knew nothing just hours ago and was fine. He’d always been a little possessive, you’d noticed, but you’d brushed it off as him being afraid of losing his one and only friend. Now this? This was a whole new level.

Ah, but then you remembered. Malleus knew about most of the bullying, but not all of it. You doubted Lilia would’ve tattled on his own dorm members. You smiled, catching him off guard. “But am I any safer in here? I bet you don’t know, after all. You don’t know how Sebek would beat me in the halls, how Silver watches me everywhere I go. It’s creepy; I don’t like it. And I’m sure Lilia didn’t tell you how he tries to poison me with his cooking,” you listed calmly, as if you were having an ordinary conversation.

“They WHAT?!” Malleus shouted. “LILIA! SILVER! SEBEK! GET OVER HERE THIS INSTANT!” You flinched; he was usually so calm, you didn’t expect him to suddenly yell like that. It was good that he believed you, not that you were lying. You didn’t have a backup plan.

As the unfortunate trio entered the room, you made your way over to the door. You thought you’d managed to slip out unnoticed, but Lilia shot you a wink. Did that mean he’d keep his mouth shut about your escape? You could only hope.

You ran through the halls, Malleus’s shouting covering up the sounds of your footfalls. You knew this place like the back of your hand, so you weren’t at risk of getting lost. The only question was how long the lecture would last. If you were lucky, Lilia would buy you some time, but you wouldn’t count on it.

And then, at last, you were safe, on the other side of the portal. You were totally winded, after having had the run of your life. Everything seemed great, but then you heard a voice.

“Oya? What do we have here? What were you doing in Diasomnia, prefect?” Jade asked with a definitely fake smile like he didn’t know exactly what you were doing in Diasomnia. Oh, great. Azul was with him too. How… lovely. Staying with Malleus was starting to sound like it wasn’t so bad after all. No, nevermind. It was definitely worse.

taglist (CLOSED): @twistedcece @slxt4h1m @teawhere @pleasehugmeaether @reivelmin @aoiyx @trashlanternfish360 @probablynoposts @d3sperate-enuf @mono273 @help-whatdoimakemyusername @justuraverageeverydaydegenerate @im-here-for-the-fun-of-it

[fallstaticexit]

When your Gen X, boomer cusp boy mom mother can't read the room to save her life.

AN: If anyone is interested in some more Lyric lore, you can check out my TikTok for part one and part two of her backstory. Trigger Warnings: pregnancy loss, depression.

prev / next

Myrah: Oh, my sweet boys! I missed you so much!

Sonny: So you went and got married, huh? Didn’t think to tell us, mama?

Olive: [whispers] Girl, not your mom getting her groove back.

Lyric: [groans] See, this is what I’m talking about...

Nina: [whispers] This was not on my Myrah visit bingo card.

Ernest: We eloped. Nothing too fancy, since it’s both our second marriage. I can send some photos your way, just got to get them developed.

Mel: Developed?

Myrah: My Ernie is an old soul. Very old school.

Sonny: Uh-huh. How old exactly?

Lyric: Isn’t there a dinner we’re supposed to be eating or something?!

Myrah: Oh, that’s right! Everyone sit, I’ll bring out the food.

Sonny: Yeah, maybe get this man a shirt while you at it..

[awkward silence]

Sonny: How’d you meet my moms, man. What’s all this about?

Mel: This isn’t some life insurance scam, is it?

Myrah: Boys!

Ernest: We met at a Divorce Support Group.

Lyric: [sucks teeth] Why are you still going to those? You were divorced over 30 years ago...

Myrah: There’s no expiration date on support! I can still go. We take a trip to Cancun every year.

Ernest: She was telling her story about being a young mom in a loveless marriage, and I really felt that. I was a young father, too.

Sonny: [grumbles] Tuh. Ya don’t say?

Ernest: I asked her to join me for coffee one day, and well, the rest is history.

Myrah: Ernest completes me. We don’t let things like our age keep us from being happy. Ernest satisfies me in ways you can’t imagine-

[Everyone groans]

Ernest: Meeting your mom really changed my life, kids.

Olive: I get it. It happens to the best of us. I fell in love with a beautiful, elegant, rich older woman, and my life has never been the same. I’ll probably never fall in love again.

Sonny: ?????

Myrah: Thank you, Olivia. Kids, I just want you to be happy for me. Don’t I deserve that?

Lyric: This is weird! You get married without telling anyone, and it’s to some guy who’s like half your age. Why would you think we wouldn’t be upset about this?

Myrah: Well, honey, you’re not a little girl anymore. I can do as I please and not have to tiptoe around what my children think. I’m allowed to live my life however I want.

Ernest: Your mother’s right. And I think if you gave me a chance, I could show you how I can be a great father figure and role model to you and your brothers.

Lyric: Am I in the twilight zone?? What the hell is happening right now??

Ernest: Ah! Little man’s burgers! Must of slipped my mind. I guess age is catching up to me.

Sonny: Mhmmm, which is how old again?

Myrah: I’ll get it. Sit tight, baby.

Lyric: [sneers] You! Did you know about this?

Sonny: What! No!

Mel: I mean, you did say you talk to mom everyday. She never mentioned this?

Olive: Can we get these dishes passed around or...

Sonny: I mean, she mentioned having a friend name Ernest once but I’m thinkin’ he’s some old guy she met!

Ernest: [chuckles] Yeah, I get that alot. I normally go by EJ. Ernest Sr. is my father’s name.

Sonny: Uh-huh... and who yo daddy? Probably went to school with him...

Myrah: Alright, got one burger for my big strong, handsome grandson!

Myrah: What? What’s the matter?

Lyric: Mom, there’s cheese and stuff on it! He doesn’t like that! He’ll only have it plain!

Myrah: Ok! Ok! No problem! I’ll just pluck it off! I-I didn’t know-

Lyric: You would have known if you’d bothered to get to know him at all! You don’t know anything about any of your grandchildren, Mateo especially! All you care about is that he’s a boy.

Lyric: You don’t listen to me when I tell you about things that overwhelm him. You don’t listen to me at all! I’m not going to let you make him feel invisible like you did me.

Myrah: Lyric, wait! Please don’t leave like this! Talk to me, Sunshine!

Olive: Um. Thanks for the to-go plates, Mrs. M. I bet it would have been really good when it was fresh.

[tires screeching]

[pimosworld]

Only if you catch me

Pairing- Frankie Morales x f!reader

Chapter Summary-You and Frankie have your first official date.

Chapter Warnings- 18+, MDNI, mentions of addiction, angst, fluff, first date jitters, kissing, sexual tension, flirting, Frankie is a gentleman

WC-6.7k

A/N- These two are so sickeningly sweet I can’t stand it. Reader and Frankie have a long way to go but it almost always starts with butterflies. @toobusyshrimping Thank you for the help with the “foot in mouth” line.

[Series Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

Not beta read

Chapter 2. Composite

For some people, one slip up means disaster. There is a huge emphasis on not taking that first drink. That first drink can trigger the obsession, the compulsion. The need for more and more. 

  It took Frankie awhile to find an NA meeting not focused on shame, but healing. A place that didn’t ask you to share something about your week like you were a child. A place that didn’t tell you to be comfortable all the while making you sit on hard metal folding chairs in a cold dingey room. 

  Soft ambient lighting strategically placed to help you relax, instead of the harsh fluorescent lights like you were being interrogated. 

  It’s a weekly routine. 

  One Frankie has grown used to over the last year. From that first day feeling like he was going to crawl out of his skin to now being a regular face amongst the crowd. 

  His knee no longer bounces nervously as he listens to others talk about their battles with addiction. His hands are steady resting along his thighs instead of worrying at the frayed lines on his shirt.

  He’s seated facing the door so he sees Jones enter. The older man looked a little more gray than usual. The worry lines deeper and more evident on his face. His clothes could use an iron and he looks on the tail end of a three day bender…but he’s here. 

  He gravitates towards him and Frankie offers the open seat. 

  “Look, I’m sorry about…”

  Frankie waves him off, not wanting to do the awkward song and dance. Offers him an easy out and a curt don’t let it happen again. 

  “I hope your lady wasn’t too upset.” 

  Thankfully the moderator enters the room to save him from an explanation. His lady. A statement he hadn’t heard in awhile. Obviously way too soon to call you that, but he doesn’t feel like correcting him. He may be getting ahead of himself but he hopes he won’t have to correct him. 

  Frankie hasn’t felt this way about anyone since her. Somewhere deep down where he shoves every ounce of guilt he thinks he may have never felt this way about her at all. 

  Bonded by trauma and addiction, he somehow thought what they had was love. He thought they were meant for each other because who could possibly love him and all his fucked up past. He started coming to these meetings with her and then she made excuses as to why she didn’t need them anymore. That was the beginning of the end, when he finally realized that maybe they weren’t as compatible as he thought. Each day he healed his trauma, each day he stayed sober they grew further and further apart. 

  And then Colombia. 

  Frankie returned with the boys and no Tom. No amount of money could fix the damage they had all done. Fractured and barely holding on, when he needed her the most she came to him so strung out he didn’t recognize her. The woman he used to love, the woman who had laid her life on the line for them so many times he lost count. He’s glad for her sake that Santi couldn’t find her before Colombia or she might not have made it home. 

  “Francisco, do you want to share anything new about your week?”

  All eyes are on him and he’s not sure how long she’s been trying to get his attention. Judging by the sly way Jones tries to hide his smile behind his hands it’s been a second. 

He adjusts his cap on his head, nervously running his fingers through his hair. “Umm, not much to share about this week.”

  “That’s okay, we don’t always have to share. I’m just glad to see your face.” 

  He’s not sure where it comes from as she goes to address the next person. As though he has no control over his body when he begins to clear his throat and she redirects her attention back to him. 

  “Actually.” 

  He straightens up a little in his seat, squaring his shoulders back. 

  “I met someone this week.” He’s met with her pleased smile and a few low whistles. “We have a date this Saturday.” 

  He lets out a sigh of relief, not usually one to share during meetings but never being pushed too. Something makes him want to open up more. Perhaps it’s you. 

  “I’m proud of you Francisco. For sharing and for putting yourself out there.” 

  He knows she’s the only one who keeps track of everyone’s recovery process. He brushed it off six months ago when she informed him that he’s been coming in consistently for a year. 

  The silent understanding that he’d reached a milestone. 

  He memorized the pamphlet his first time coming in. The only thing he could focus on while his hands shook and his back sweat. 

  He scoffed when he first read the part about dating.

Dating too soon can be detrimental to mental health and well-being, and increase the risk of relapse. During early recovery, people are still learning to navigate their new sober lives, and dating can be a distraction or replacement addiction. It can also be difficult to maintain sobriety while dating. 

He ignored the advice that first month when Benny needed him as a wingman for a double date. He nearly had a panic attack at the restaurant when his date wouldn’t stop pestering him about his time in the military, what he did for work, does he have any siblings. All the monotonous first date conversations that he should be able to answer but her wine stained lips and suffocating perfume were making it all too much. 

For what it was worth Benny felt bad when Frankie ditched the date and drove straight to Will’s house because he didn’t trust himself to be alone. 

A year and a half later and you come along. A breath of fresh air

The rest of the meeting goes by in a blur of introductions, confessions and thoughts of you as he makes his way out to his truck. 

****

“I’m not entirely sure why you think I’m gonna be able to help you pick an outfit.” 

Your phone is propped up on top of your mirror with a little FaceTime image of your sister in the corner as you twirl around. 

“You used to help me pick outfits all the time Dom.” 

“Yes but I have no sense of style now. I spend most days in sweats.” 

You step out of frame not satisfied with the third outfit you’d tried as you add to the growing pile of clothes on the bed. 

“Tell me more about the date and I might be able to help you.” She yells knowing you’ve gone to your closet.You’ve spent the better part of the last hour hoping to find something that doesn’t remind you of him. You really needed to get some new clothes but that would require money you did not have at the moment. 

You pull out your dress from your college graduation. A red satin wrap with a low neckline and a flowy skirt. You may have worn it a thousand times but it’s never done you wrong. 

“He said we’re going to dinner, he’s picking me up at seven.Those are all the details I have.” You smooth your hands along the soft fabric as you stand in front of the mirror once more. Standing on your tip toes to get a better look you hear a tiny gasp. 

“Auntie you look so pwetty.” You can see the top of your nephew's dark curls just peeking out in the frame as your sister props him on her knee. 

“Well I think that’s a winner.” Dom says as she tickles her son and he lets out an excited squeal. “Don’t you think so buddy?” 

He nods enthusiastically and you can’t help the grin that spreads across your face. 

“I love red!” He yells and you both burst into a fit of laughter. 

“Red is his favorite color.” She ruffles his hair as he  slides off her lap, bored with the adults' conversation. “Red is bold?”

“Too bold?” 

She holds up her hands as she senses the nervousness in your voice. “I’m just saying it’s refreshing to see this side of you again.” 

You fix her with a look already knowing where this conversation is heading. A direction you don’t even want to follow right before a date. 

“Don’t think I don’t recognize that dress, I haven’t seen you wear it since that party.”

“Dom.” Your voice in a low warning. 

“I hated the way he spoke to you and then you never wore it again.” 

“Please don’t start.” Your voice trembles as you move out of frame, hastily untying the knot in the dress. 

“Come back please, I’m not trying to start a fight!” 

You know deep down she’s just being a concerned sister. You’ve been working on this particular trigger with your therapist. Not being able to sense when someone is helping and when someone is judging. 

You let out a shaky breath as you grab the phone from the mirror, plopping down amongst the clothes on your bed. A stray tear rolling down your cheek as you see her moving through her house to a quiet room. 

“Listen please….I love you and I just want what’s best for you. Don’t shut me out again because it nearly killed us both last time.” 

You close your eyes as you listen intently to your sister's words. Trying desperately to shove down the thoughts you’ve kept at bay for the better part of a year. 

“I’m not mom okay. I’m not judging you, I just want my sister back. I want that person back who wore the red dress. I want the person back who snuck out with me and got a tattoo for my eighteenth birthday.” She’s crying now and it’s just occurred to you that it’s been ages since you’ve seen her cry. “I want the sister who forged moms signature so she could go skydiving.” 

You both let out a guttural laugh when you remember how livid she was at the both of you. 

“I saw a glimpse of her the other day when you called me to talk about the job…and just now when you put on that dress.” 

You're grateful you still have hours to go before Frankie comes to get you as you wipe the mess on your face and smile back at your sister. 

“Jesus Dom, I’ll wear the damn dress. You didn’t need to make me cry.” 

She’s smiling ear to ear as she wipes the tears from her face and you both let out wet laughs. 

“Call me when you get home please.” 

“You know I will. Tell Elise I said hi and tell Casey I love him and thanks for the vote of confidence.” 

You hang up the phone and lay in your pile of clothes a little while longer just thinking about what your sister said. She was right. She was always right. 

****

6:45 pm

Frankie sits outside your quaint apartment building not wanting to head up too early. 

You live on the top floor, which is definitely the safer option for someone like you living alone. The complex isn’t gated and that makes him uneasy. 

Anyone can just walk up to your doorstep. 

He did notice security driving around which is nice, but security guards are a dime a dozen and they can’t really protect you from much.

It is one of the nicer neighborhoods in town, close to schools and a police station just down the road. 

But when do the police ever show up in time. 

He can tell he’s obsessing but he can’t really help himself. He is not really sure why he’s even so concerned about these things when it comes to you. He just met you and you’ve lived on your own successfully without him. He doesn’t need to swoop in and save you. In the words of his therapist, you don’t have to be in protective mode all the time.

Easier said than done. 

In the time he’s spent scoping out your living situation five minutes have passed. He figures that should give him enough time to head upstairs and only arrive five minutes early. He checks his hair once more in the rear view mirror not totally loving how it looks without his hat but deciding not to fidget with it anymore. He grabs the bouquet of red roses that he thought too hard over at the florist thinking maybe it was too cliche but at her insistence on how romantic of a gesture it was decided to go for it. 

****

6:45 pm

You’ve been standing in front of the floor length mirror in your bedroom for the last ten minutes trying to decide on a shoe. You texted your sister and she was no help telling you to go for something wild yet sensible. Those two things could not be more opposite. You didn’t want to go too fancy just in case this was a casual restaurant, but what if it was a really nice restaurant and you decided on a sandal? 

You were definitely overthinking this. 

You silently curse to yourself knowing you were running out of time and you can’t really go on a date barefoot when you remember some strappy low heels you bought for a wedding awhile ago. Perfectly cute and sensible all at once. 

You throw them on and give yourself one last look before you glance at your vanity table. The red lipstick you went back and forth over practically mocking you with the cap off. 

I want the person back who wore the red dress. 

Your sister's words echoing in the back of your mind. 

Fuck it. 

You hold the tube in your hand as your fingers tremble slightly. You stare down at the vibrant, fiery hue in stark contrast to your normal understated palette. With a deep breath you carefully apply, the texture smooth and crisp against your lips. When you first take a step back and look, the color is so striking it feels foreign. 

It’s also exhilarating and cliche that some red lipstick is giving you this huge boost of confidence. 

You grab a black leather purse hanging from your closet door opting to forgo your usual tote bag for something a little nicer. You tuck the lipstick, your phone and a little wallet inside leaving just enough room for Andy. Your sister would probably have your neck for bringing your camera on a date but it was your comfort blanket at the moment and you weren’t ready to let go of it. 

A heavy knock on your door and you take a deep breath and glance at the clock on your bedside table. 

****

6:55 pm

He knocks once and winces at the loud sound that echoes against the cheap wood. His hands are sweating against the plastic wrapped around the flowers and he hopes he’s not this rusty the rest of the night. 

When you greet him at the door he’s sure his heart stops for a few seconds. It’s entirely unexpected, his reaction and his complete underestimation of what he thought you would look like. He knew you were beautiful when he first saw you in the gym but this. This has him questioning everything. 

The red. 

Your dress and your lips. It’s Pavlovian the way he wants to sink his teeth into them. If this is you then he’s a goner. 

“Frankie…do you want to come in?”

“Oh shit…sorry. Ya, these are for you.” He practically shoves the roses at you and thankfully you laugh at his fumbling. He’s not sure how long he stood there gawking at you. 

“Why don’t you come in so I can put these in some water.” He’s following the scent of you like a cartoon Pepe le pew through your quaint apartment. 

You fumble around the kitchen cabinets looking for a vase as he takes in the space. It already feels a lot more warm and inviting than his five bedroom house that seems like a void of endless drab furniture. 

Little hints of you everywhere, a shelf with vintage cameras lined up. An odd shaped purple suede couch in the middle of the room, your coffee table looks like an old door with legs on it,  plants hung in any available window. A picture of you with a little baby on the wall along with some of the most vivid scenery shots he’s ever seen. Another picture with a woman who closely resembles you and an older man on what looks like your graduation day, wearing this dress. 

“I know I have a lot of…eclectic things.” You say as he turns to you. You’ve somehow trimmed and arranged the roses in the time it’s taken him to inspect your space. 

“Is that a pitcher?” 

“I mean…technically yes, but it’s serving as my vase since I don’t receive flowers much.” 

He hums in disbelief because how could a woman like you not receive flowers just for merely existing. 

He doesn’t even know if you realize you’re smiling behind the bouquet. A perfect blend of red that you serve as the backdrop. He takes out his phone and boldly takes a picture. 

You squint your eyes at him because he has his sound on. 

“Francisco.” Your voice drops an octave dripping all syrupy sweet. 

He surely won’t make it with you saying his name like that. 

“Yes, that is my name.” 

“Did you take my picture?” Hands on your hips and your tongue on your canine. 

“Maybe? I get the feeling you’re behind the camera too much.” 

You laugh as though it’s some inside joke because it is really. Your sister is always pestering you to be in the photo. But that leaves someone out and it might as well be you. 

“Can I see?” You move towards him and place your hand on his arm and he’s tempted to let you. He could read lips if they were yours as he repeats them back to himself. 

He places his phone in his pocket and watches as your eyes flit briefly to where it disappeared. 

“Not tonight.” 

Some other time 

You’re not so bold to reach in and see for yourself. You’re so close to him now you can feel his body heat and if this is what weak in the knees feels like then you’re certainly that. It takes every fiber of your being to remove your hand from his arm. 

He misses the warmth immediately as you step back but the look on your face shows a sign of that shy girl from the other night. 

“Should we?” You gesture to the door. “I don’t want to miss a reservation.” 

“No reservations needed. I know the owner of the restaurant.” 

You raise your eyebrows and he didn’t mean for it to come out so cocky. “I hope you like Italian.” He changes the subject hoping to avoid the awkwardness that he’s let fall over the room. 

“Points for you since that’s my favorite.” You reach for his hand as he leads you out and as you lock up your apartment you have to remind yourself that he’s not your ex. The man who knows the owner, the man who decides what you eat and drink, the man who didn’t care less what you wanted as long as you didn’t embarrass him. 

****

If he notices your shift in demeanor he says nothing. It’s easy to relax around Frankie and you notice yourself slipping into a peaceful routine with him. When he opens your door and helps you into the truck. When he instinctively grabs your hand as he drives, you notice his signature cap left at home for your date as his hair blows in the wind. 

This doesn’t feel like a first date. 

This feels like something you do all the time. Like you fit right into some imaginary puzzle piece in his life. He’s humming some tune under his breath and you’re feeling a little more bold as your fingers lace with his. 

You can feel him watching you from the corner of your eye as you look out the window at the familiar surroundings. He likes the way you look next to him, in his truck and something bubbles to the surface that he has to push down to not scare you away too soon. 

“I don’t think I told you how beautiful you look tonight.” You glance over at him as his large hand grips the steering wheel. “I was thinking it real hard but the words never came out.” 

“I was thinking something similar myself.” 

He notes that low timber in your voice when you compliment him. It takes everything in him to keep his eyes on the road. 

“I was hoping I wasn’t too overdressed.” You say apprehensively as he pulls into a small parking lot. 

“Baby for where we’re going you’re perfectly dressed.” 

You don’t have time to even react to the pet name when you see the restaurant come into view as he parks directly in front. 

“Frankie, this place is impossible to get a reservation. Trust me I tried and failed when my sister was in town visiting me.” 

He smirks as he opens and closes the drivers side door leaving you momentarily to saunter around and open yours. 

He holds his hand out to help you down and gently grabs your waist in the other. “Make sure to let me know next time she’s in town.” 

“Okay.” You say a little breathlessly as his large hand engulfs yours and he guides you towards the entrance. 

****

“Morales for two.” 

“Right this way Mr. Morales.” The Maitre d’ leads the way dressed in a tailored suit with a vest and small black bow tie. 

The interior is breathtaking as you make your way through the ornate hallway. Chandeliers cast a warm, golden light over the crisp white linens. There’s plush, crushed velvet and intricate woodwork furniture throughout.The walls are adorned with tapestries and the scent of fresh herbs and garlic wafts from the kitchen. 

You’ve noticed the entire night Frankie has been sure to walk behind you or beside you. Something you didn’t even realize in your previous relationship was a courtesy you weren’t afforded. Always being pulled along or left behind. His hand is warm, placed gently on your back as you pass by other well-dressed couples engaged in intimate conversations. Their voices a soft murmur against the backdrop of classical music playing somewhere in the distance. 

You’re both ushered toward a secluded corner of the restaurant, away from the bustling dining room. Your breath catches as you take in the scene before you. A small path opens up to a hidden courtyard, bathed in a soft glow of candlelight. Ivy climbs gracefully up the old stonewalls. A table set for two is adorned with empire candles and one single rose. 

Frankie’s eyes are on you, a mix of nervousness and pride etched across his face. He’s clearly pleased with your reaction and he chuckles to himself as he takes in the romantic setting his friend arranged just for this moment. 

“I hoped you’d like it.” Frankie says, his voice a soft murmur as he pulls out your chair. 

“Like it! Frankie, are you serious? This is incredible.” 

He smiles at your reaction as he takes his place across from you. The tenderness in his gesture, the thoughtfulness of the setting-it all makes your heart flutter. This isn’t just a date. It’s a memory in the making, and his effort to impress you is overwhelming in the best way possible. 

****

“Frankie I have to say the website photos do not do this place justice.” 

The laugh that erupts from his chest catches you off guard briefly. “The owner was being cheap-.” 

“Cheap!” A familiar voice sounds from behind you as the gorgeous man you recognize from Benny's fight strolls over to your table. His hair is slicked back showing off his perfect bone structure. Slight salt and pepper stubble across his face. Dressed in all black and the first two buttons undone to show off his tan chest. 

Frankie stands from the table and embraces the man in a tight hug. He whispers something you don’t quite catch before turning to you with a wide smile. 

“Hi, I’m Santiago.” He holds out his hand for you and to your surprise kisses the top of your outstretched hand. “Fish whisked you away before I had a chance to introduce myself the other day.” 

“Fish?” 

“That is exactly why I whisked her away.” Frankie says through gritted teeth. 

Santiago holds his hands up in apology. “Sorry, I mean Francisco.” 

The waiter appears with a pitcher of water and pours for the table as Santiago instructs him to bring a bottle of sparkling when he returns with the bread. 

“So I hear you’re quite the photographer, I could use your help.” 

“Pope.” Frankie eyes him in warning. 

You reach across the table and take Frankie’s hand in yours. “It’s fine really.” 

Santiago’s eyes on your joined hands and a knowing smirk on his face. 

“I would love to take some photos for your website. They really are quite awful.” You say honestly. 

“Well I took them myself so…”

You unconsciously grimace and it’s equal parts comical and painful to look at as you palm your face. “I’m so sorry.” 

Both men are laughing before you can continue your apology. 

“No hard feelings, cariño. I’m a big boy and can take some criticism. This guy on the other hand.” He pats Frankie on the back. “Go easy on him for me.” 

A look of gratitude passes between them and Santiago steps back as the waiter reappears. 

He claps his hands. “I’ll leave you two love birds to enjoy. I have a very special meal planned for the evening so I hope you’re hungry.” 

He turns to leave but not before Frankie speaks. 

“Gracias hermano realmente aprecio todo.” 

“Para ti cualquier cosa.”

****

The conversation between you and Frankie flowed easily as each course was presented to you. Per Santiago’s instruction the waiter presented each dish to you in great detail. 

First Course: Antipasti Deliziosi

The evening begins with an elegant spread of antipasti, served on a polished wooden platter. The colorful assortment included thinly sliced prosciutto, delicate burrata cheese drizzled with balsamic reduction, and an array of marinated olives, artichoke hearts, and sun-dried tomatoes. 

Frankie tells you a little about his time in the military with the boys. After a brief explanation that because of some private government contracts they all did very well for themselves after the service. Of course your curiosity was peaked at the thought of Benny and Will owning their own gym and Santiago owning the most popular restaurant in town. Frankie had casually mentioned at your first encounter that he owned a private helicopter business. None of these men came off as self centered or what you would consider avaricious so it was refreshing to see such successful men be so humble. 

Albeit very intimidating that you struggled most months to pay your bills and your savings was almost at nothing after a year of being here. You quickly steered the conversation away from that topic which made you uncomfortable because of your previous relationship. You didn’t want to come off as some kind of gold digger. 

Second Course: Risotto ai Frutti di Mare

The second course featured a luxurious risotto with a medley of seafood—plump shrimp, tender scallops, and mussels. The creamy, saffron-infused risotto, complemented by a hint of lemon zest. Between forkfuls, Frankie shares anecdotes about his most memorable helicopter flights, while you told him( sparing some of the not so pretty details) of your spontaneous move just a year ago. 

He listens intently to you talk about trying to work when you first arrived but it being too overwhelming. You briefly mention therapy and for that he’s grateful he doesn’t have to be ashamed to talk about his struggles after leaving the military. There’s no judgment in your eyes when he talks about those meetings that saved his life. 

First date feels inappropriate and a little too heavy to mention ex’s so you both stay far away from that topic. 

You don’t mention your sobriety so he doesn’t push. 

You talk about finally taking that step and reaching out to Will for the shoot and he can’t help but shake his head on the timing of it all. 

Third Course: Filetto di Manzo con Salsa 

For the third course, the table is graced with a perfectly cooked filet mignon, its tender surface glazed with butter and rich red tomato purée . Accompanied by truffle mashed potatoes and sautéed asparagus.

You’re beaming when you open up to him about some future projects you want to work on and the need to get back into weddings since those were your favorite. 

He may know some people that are seeking you out for just that but he won’t spoil the surprise. 

All of the normal first date questions that would usually bore him to death seem to feel different when he’s with you. The way you look in his eyes makes him feel like he’s floating. He’s sure you don’t notice the way you bite your lip when you’re thinking or the way you moan after trying the first bite of each course. 

Your knee keeps brushing his under the table but it’s comforting when you don’t pull away. 

Dessert: Tiramisu Classico

The evening concludes with a classic tiramisu—layers of espresso-soaked ladyfingers, creamy mascarpone, and a dusting of cocoa powder. 

Once the waiter disappears, and since he’s feeling a little bold he takes your fork and a small piece. Holding it out for you as you wrap your still red lips around it and let out the most sinful sound he’s ever heard. 

Worth it. 

You take his fork and serve up a slightly larger piece and do your best to lean as he meets you halfway. His eyes nearly roll into the back of his head when he takes a bite. 

Without thinking you reach across with your finger. “You’ve got.” And swipe the cream from the corner of his lip. Boldly licking the remnants as you watch something flash in his eyes. 

“Frankie. I don’t know how you’re gonna top this.” 

He watches you take another bite. “Oh I’m sure I can think of a few things.” He finally managed to say after he composed himself. “In fact, if you’re not afraid of heights I definitely have some ideas.” 

You sit back and clutch your chest. “Oh I would love to meet Lucy.” 

He chuckles as he looks at you and wonders where the hell you’ve been hiding. 

****

Santiago of course waited until you were finished to get your opinion and say his goodbyes. Frankie suggested you walk in the small park across from the restaurant. With a little push from Santi, the name he preferred you call him since Santiago was my father as he put it. 

It was a short walk to the park. 

You and Frankie strolled along the winding path encircling a small pond. The sun was already set but the sky still had those remnants of dusty pink and purple as the last rays bounced off the surface of the water. 

You love the way he instinctively takes your hand and he thinks it’s almost too perfect the way it fits in his. Like they had been designed for each other. The both of you walk in a comfortable silence exchanging glances as you stare at his profile and laugh to yourself. 

“Something funny hermosa?” 

“You never told me about the nickname.” You say matter of factly and he just sighs. 

Instinctually rubbing his hands along his jaw as he stops walking and you face him. “It’s better now but. I couldn’t grow a beard to save my life.” You laugh and he crowds your space. “The guys said I had whiskers like a catfish.” 

He raises his eyebrows as you hide your smile behind your hand. “I like it.” You say softly as you reach out, grazing your finger over the small spaces still missing some hair. His eyes close for just a moment and he leans into your touch. 

He’s so close you can feel his breath fan across your face and it would be so perfect if he just-

“You wouldn’t happen to have Andy in your bag by chance?” 

It takes you a moment to register what he’s said instead of kissing you. 

“What? I mean yes…um ya I do. Why?” Sounding more flustered than you want as he places his hands on your shoulders and slowly turns you around. 

You stifle a gasp as you see a man across the pond getting down on one knee and the camera is out of your bag before you can blink. 

You can see the woman as she covers her mouth in shock. Her excited squeals echoing over the water and it couldn’t be a more perfect backdrop. 

Frankie’s hands haven’t left you as his thumbs rub circles on your shoulder and he steals peaks of the photos when you take a moment to make sure the shots are just right. Adjusting the zoom on a few and grateful you don’t need the flash with just enough natural light left over.

Frankie watches you work and he’s just in awe of how you can capture the moment so well. You’re quiet and methodical in your approach and the juxtaposition of you moments ago makes his head spin. It’s like when he’s flying and everything else just shuts off around him and he can only focus on the controls and the shifts. 

He watches as the couple embraces and for the first time he thinks that’s something he wants. He’d spent so much time with his ex and that thought never once crossed his mind. 

“We should head over before they leave so I can show them.” It’s all rushed out in a hurry as you grab his hand and pull him along the path. 

He can’t help but laugh at your pure joy as you turn to look at him over your shoulder. 

He hangs back a little as you show the couple the photos. Your hands animatedly flailing to match the woman’s as she jumps up and down. The man looks over to him briefly and Frankie flashes him a thumbs up in congratulations. A man not much younger than him and he has his whole life to look forward to with this woman. 

****

“Oh my god, she thought he hired me.” Your voice comes out louder than you expected. As he glances over to you in the passenger seat looking through the photos. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. 

He clears his throat but keeps his eyes on the road. “I love watching you work.” 

“It doesn’t feel like work for moments like that.” 

“Hmm…ya I know what you mean.” 

His free hand resting on your thigh, you don’t think he’s gone the entire night without touching you and you don’t mind at all. He’s so grounding in a way you’ve never experienced before. 

The soft glow of the street lights are filtering in through the window as he pulls into your parking lot. That familiar tension is starting to settle into your chest at the thought of saying goodbye or at the prospect of Frankie being disappointed that you’re not quite ready for that next step. 

Frankie notices you’ve gone quiet in the seat next to him as he puts the truck in park. “Everything okay hermosa?” Suddenly feeling a little apprehensive. 

“Oh ya it’s fine…everything is fine.” He could tell by your tone it was most certainly not and he was starting to wonder if he’d done something to make you uncomfortable. 

He turns towards you, his hand resting on the seat next to you now. “I had a really great time tonight.” Frankie says, his voice steady and sincere. 

Your cheeks grow hot as you avoid his intense gaze. “Me too. It’s been…really nice.”

There’s a brief pause and you can feel that unspoken question lingering in the air. You’re fidgeting with the hem of your dress trying to gauge his reaction. “So,um, would you like to come up for coffee or something?” You asked, your voice wavering slightly. 

Frankie’s expression softened as the realization set in. “You don’t have to invite me up if you’re not ready. I want you to feel comfortable.” He takes your hand again forcing you to meet his deep brown eyes. “Just because we had a great dinner doesn’t mean you owe me anything. Or anyone for that matter.”

You exhale a sigh of relief. “Are you sure? Frankie…I really like you, but it feels too soon.” You turn to look away but he gently grabs your chin. 

“Of course I’m sure. We can take things at your pace.” 

Your pace

His eyes flit to your lips briefly as he retreats his hand. You stop him and grab his wrist hoping you didn’t send the wrong message. Your heart flutters as he leans in and you meet him halfway. Your lips meet in a tender kiss. You could taste the sweet remnants of dessert and the warmth of his breath. It’s intoxicating as his hands drift to your waist and despite the awkward angle you find yourself impossibly closer to him. 

Frankie has never felt like this before. Your hands drift to his hair and a deep growl erupts from his chest and he’s starting to question what your pace is as the kiss starts to get intense. It’s one of those kisses that has him questioning every one that came before you. 

You break apart for a second and rest your forehead on his trying to catch your breath. You had to remind yourself for what felt like the hundredth time, that you needed to be patient.

“How about I walk you upstairs? Just to make sure you get there safely.” 

All you can manage is a nod. “That would be nice. Thank you.” 

You both exited the car in silence. Your fingers brushing occasionally, sending small sparks through you. When you finally make it to your door he turns you to face him. His hands around the back of your neck as he leans in for one more kiss. This one much softer as the last still lingers on your lips. 

“Tonight was really special.” His voice full of gratitude. 

“Thank you Frankie.” You whisper against his lips, unable to pull away. “I had a great time.”

“Me too.” He says pulling back slightly, but keeping his hands on you. “I’ll call you soon okay?” 

If he doesn’t leave now he probably never will.

“Okay.” You laugh breathlessly as you wipe the evidence of lipstick from his face.

You have to let him go or you’ll end up eating your words and inviting him in. He’s backing away slowly as you turn to open your door. You can feel him watching you as you close the door behind you and lean against it, finally letting the breath out of your lungs. 

You can feel your phone buzzing in your purse. 

Glancing down to see Frankie’s name light up on the screen. 

“Have you even left the parking lot?” You hear his heavy breathing and a huff of laughter. 

“I told you I'd call you soon.” He teased as the sound of his truck door closing echoes in your ear. 

“A man of his word.” You reply as you walk through your apartment stripping yourself of your shoes and untying your dress. 

“So…what are you doing?” A hint of mischief in his voice. 

“Frankie.” 

“I’m just kidding.” He pauses briefly as you hear the truck roar to life wishing you were still sitting passenger. “If you’re free this Friday-“

“I am!” You hold the phone away cursing under your breath for sounding so eager. 

“Good, it’s a date.” 

You hang up and take in your reflection in the bathroom mirror. Your lips stained a pretty hue of pink now that the red has been kissed off. Your fingers brush them slightly and you know that Francisco Morales has your heart in his hands. 

Hopefully for your sake he treats it with care. 

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[chvoswxtch]

hi! could i request a fic where frank is helping reader with urges to relapse in s3lf h@rm? or maybe they already relapsed? if this is not something you’re comfortable writing please feel free to just ignore this :) i’m struggling w/ this lately so it’s just self indulgent for me lmao and your writing is ADDICTIVE. you have such a talent and i hope you’re doing well!! x

my sweet sweet sweet nonnie. I am sending you all the love I possibly can. I am so sorry that you are struggling. I know what it's like to struggle with this, and I promise you it does get better. I know everyone says that and sometimes those words can sound so hollow, but I mean it from the bottom of my heart. it can't rain all the time darling 🖤

I hope you are doing well today, and I hope this brings you the comfort that you need. thank you for trusting me with this, and know that I love you and am so proud of you

just a quick psa to everyone on my frank taglist, because this is such a sensitive topic, i'm not tagging anyone in this one. if you are not comfortable with this topic or if it could be triggering for you, please sit this one out. you will not hurt my feelings, I promise.

warning: mentions of depression & self harm word count: 775

let it out.

Frank noticed everything. He was trained to look for subtle clues of threats everywhere, to anticipate them and quickly conjure a counterattack, or eliminate them before they even got a chance to strike. After that tragic day in Central Park, his sense of hypervigilance only became even more extreme. 

Which is why he knew that things were getting bad for you again.

He could see it. That bright sparkle in your eyes that could put the stars to shame grew more and more dim until it was nothing more than achromatic ash. The heaviness weighing down on your chest that turned the subconscious act of breathing into a relentless struggle and made your movements lethargic was like an astral presence only his eyes could detect. He could hear it in your voice, the melodic warmth replaced by an echoing numbness. It seemed as though each day another of your vibrant petals withered and fell until you were rendered a bare and hollow stem.

It killed Frank to see you like this. He wanted so badly to help, he just didn’t know how. You wouldn’t talk to him about it, wouldn’t tell him what you needed. But he didn’t get upset with you, because he figured you might not even know what you needed. He was growing increasingly worried because nothing he was doing seemed to help at all. Fear was an emotion Frank very rarely experienced, but he was terrified that he’d lose you to your own cruel mind. 

Things were bad right now, but it would pass. You’d fallen from the clouds of progression, backsliding until the cold hard impact of relapse bruised and rattled your bones, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t find your way back up again. It didn’t erase all the breakthroughs in your recovery. And if you couldn’t make it back up on your own, Frank would carry you himself.

Frank sat with you in the bath, enveloping you in the comfort of his body and the hot water, hoping it would soothe you. Taking care of yourself had become as hard as getting out of bed, but it was okay. He could help you with that. He’d washed your hair, taking his time to massage your scalp before gently rinsing the shampoo out completely. His large and calloused hands slowly and tenderly lathered your skin in the suds of your body wash, not missing a single inch of you. 

Your face was as blank as a pure canvas, but there was raw sorrow in your eyes and agony building up along your lash line. Frank held onto you tightly, tracing your self-inflicted scars with the pad of his thumb, applying pressure with each stroke while he spoke quietly in your ear.

“I know it hurts, baby. But you ain’t gotta let it out that way. You can get the hurt out without hurtin’ yourself. You gotta feel it, sweetheart. I know you don’t wanna, I know it feels like it’s too much, but you can’t distract yourself with a different kinda pain. It ain’t gonna make this one go away.”

Frank knew you were listening. He could see the saltwater slipping down your cheeks, your expressionless face slowly morphing into a portrait of unrefined grief. He pressed his lips softly to each of your scars, holding you even tighter in a protective embrace.

“It’s gotta heal from the inside, baby. I know it’s hard, but you ain’t gotta do this alone. I’m right here, sweetheart. Just let go, I got you.”

He could tell that you were fighting it. That you were scared once you opened that door, a tidal wave of misery would devour you entirely and trap you beneath the current until you drowned, but he wasn’t going to let that happen. His deep voice was laced with sincerity and promise as he spoke into your ear again.

“I got you.”

The choked sob that caught in your throat broke his heart. The wail that tore from the depth of your soul was the worst sound he’d ever heard. Your shoulders shook from the impact of your overwhelming emotions, but when you shattered into a thousand jagged pieces, Frank was there to collect them all. He’d patiently help you put them all back together, no matter how long it took. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, gently rocking you as he soothingly ran his fingers through your hair, pressing a reverent kiss to the crown of your head.

“There ya go, that’s it. Let it all out, sweetheart. Take as long as ya need, I’m right here. I ain’t goin’ nowhere. Just let it all out.”

[blasphemecel]

Michael Kaiser — Molasses

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 2.5k TYPE: Humor, Established relationship, Idk if i'd call this fluff lol, bad communication gets resolved at the end WARNING: trigger warning for CRINGE

“Is it easy for you to keep up with him?”

Your friend is interrogating you about Kaiser again. After a while, the topic of your relationship lost novelty, making way for newer drama, but it’s difficult for them to disregard that you’re dating a football player. Like, a real one, not just some dude who goes to play every other Sunday with his buddies.

You swirl your straw around your drink, looking at it like there’s slop in the glass instead of what you ordered. You wouldn’t say you keep up with Kaiser, so you shrug. “Give him a ball to kick around and he’ll be content.”

They raise an eyebrow, picking up on your sulking. Not like you’re being subtle about it. “So, I take it you’re not super stoked about things right now?”

Well, that’s the thing. You have nothing to do with what makes him happy. You don’t even call him by his first name, which is odd for obvious reasons, but also because it gives off the impression you’re one of the lackeys on his team, even though you don’t play. Or worse, a stalker fan who follows him around a lot.

Of course, you know what he’s like. That he’s a jerk who isn’t occupied with much besides himself, whose personality is cold and distant, and despite being a bit of a romantic, you’d prefer to think you didn’t have any unrealistic expectations. Maybe you overestimated your ability to tolerate how unavailable he is. And still — still! — is it such a crime to expect your boyfriend to display some vulnerability after several months of dating?

He doesn’t show you much of himself besides his persona, but you find it unnecessary, this covering up and playing His Majesty and forcing distance between you two with his paper thin smiles and showy kisses after games. You’re not a journalist trying to write an exposé on him (‘Michael Kaiser Is a Big Bitch’). You just… You just like him is all, and have a desire for a more profound closeness.

Does he share the same sentiments of affection towards you? It’s kind of a ridiculous question to ask yourself, and he’s way too pompous to allow anyone he finds uninteresting in his presence, but are you on his mind as often as he is on yours? Does he wonder about you the same way? You don’t believe you’re even half as elusive as he is, so it doesn’t seem plausible.

On the other hand, are you too overbearing? Should you pull back and relax?

You’ve been meaning to be mature and speak up about your concerns, but have been procrastinating on the conversation. For now, you wallow in your doubts while your friend suggests you break up with him and points out how big his forehead is, and how dumping a star is a ‘once in a lifetime opportunity.’

___

Kaiser is… off balance.

Not really. He’s standing upright and his posture is perfect and he’s not dizzy, but right now, the world is wrong and he can only hope the way he is clawing at his phone doesn’t betray how upset he is.

“Ness,” he says in his ‘I am about to complain’ tone. It is also only slightly different from his usual voice.

“Yes?”

“Before I continue, I just want you to know that I’m being very brave and nonchalant about this.”

Ness smiles, the expression seeming guileless as usual. “Of course,” he says eventually.

Kaiser all but shoves the screen in his face, since putting all of your offenses into words is beyond him, though it soon occurs to him Ness can’t read from this proximity and ceases the assault he’s committing on his eyes. Ness scans over your sparse chat, looks up at Kaiser again, and raises his eyebrows.

“They can’t make it to practice?” He states it in the form of a question when it appears that Kaiser is unwilling to talk, even though he’s the one who started the conversation.

“Congratulations, you can read. How many times has this happened?”

“I don’t know,” Ness says, despite knowing this is the fifth since he counted every time you didn’t show up the last two weeks. “Are they not feeling well?”

You shot him down the last two times he asked you to go out on a date. And you haven’t called before bed in a while. And you didn’t even add a kissy emoji when you told him good luck (not like he cares about your stupid emojis, but you didn’t). And whenever you see him lately, you act closed off.

“No, they’re totally avoiding me,” he says, after going through a mental flashback of all of your betrayals as if he was in a war instead of on iMessage. “Do you think I’m ugly? Or maybe boring?”

“Never.”

“Then what should I do?”

Did he have a plan for if he were unattractive? Get plastic surgery just to keep dating you or something? “You should try asking.”

“Maybe our relationship is losing its spark,” Kaiser says, completely disregarding Ness’s input. Ness continues smiling. It is unnerving, but an idea comes to Kaiser’s mind, and he’s too busy marveling at his genius to notice. “It’s an easy fix. I just need to romance [Y/n] again.”

Ness is still smiling.

“Anyway,” Kaiser continues despite the lack of answer, “you know they love those comics or whatever. It can be like a challenge. Recreate the atmosphere, sweep them off their feet. I can make my sweetie’s dreams come true. Because I’m not replaceable, and only I can do that for them. Right?”

For a brief moment, Ness considers telling him this is not the way and that he’s jumping through so many hoops, he’s going to trip and fall, but decides against it. Maybe there’s a grain of truth to what he’s saying. He doubts anyone else would come to this conclusion, for one, let alone devise a plan around it. If irreplaceable is synonymous with unique by some stretch of the imagination, then sure.

“Of course,” he says again. His eyes are big and innocent. Kaiser gets the distinct impression that Ness is judging him right now.

___

It’s already dark outside and you’re still sitting at your desk, doing mundane things on your computer, once again distracted from an assignment you’ve been meaning to do for a while. Something smacks against the window, startling you, but when you pull the curtains, you don’t see anything near the sill. You assume you imagined the noise, but another pebble hits the window, and this time you witness it as it happens.

The thought of some asshole throwing rocks at your windows irritates you, so you stand up to investigate, pressing your forehead against the glass.

Kaiser waves at you from below, looking way too cheery. You don’t know what he’s doing here, but you turn to go and let him in through the intercom — did he ring? you don’t remember him doing so — until you notice him gesturing at you to open the windows. Confused, you comply, peeking your head out, the cold breeze blowing against your cheeks and invading your already poorly insulated apartment.

“You look lovely today,” he yells out. Not a strong start, but he can redeem himself. Maybe.

“Thanks? Do you wanna come in?”

“Yes.” You lean away from the window again, but he stops you with another bizarre request. “No, wait. Later.”

This perplexes you even more, but you humor him with a weary expression anyway, resting your face against your palm.

… You interrupt his unnecessarily loud reading of some obscure love poem with a flail of your hands and a, “Cut it out and just come up!”

God, you hope none of your neighbors heard. To spare you both of this embarrassment, you don’t give him a chance to continue and instead close the windows, hurrying to let him in and unlock your door.

What’s with him, anyway? You feel a pinprick of anxiety at what’s about to come after such a strange… greeting from him, but try your best to seem stoic while you wait for Kaiser to climb up the stairs.

When he comes into view, you offer him what you consider a cool nod (which you may or may not have practiced in the mirror), and he continues to stand there at the doorway as if waiting for something. You move aside to give him space. Kaiser blinks once, figures this isn’t going his way, then follows your lead.

“Please don’t make me ask ‘where’s my hug at?’” he says, taking off his jacket and hanging it on the coat rack. “That’s not like me at all.”

In your struggle to think of a neutral response, all you come up with is, “No one’s making you do anything,” which sounds more disagreeable than what you’re going for.

His lips settle into a thin line, the action calculating, as if he’s contemplating his next move. Both of you are being tactical. It’s weird considering this is supposed to be a sweet surprise visit from your boyfriend, not a battle of psychological warfare, but you don’t even know what’s going on anymore.

Then he takes a step closer until he’s in front of you, invading your personal space with his face leaning in so close to yours, resting his palm against the wall, almost pinning you to the wall but not quite. “Why not?”

“Do you need something? I kind of wasn’t expecting you, so,” you say irrelevantly. In your head, you’re still trying to make sense of this, not understanding where these corny gestures are coming from all of a sudden.

“No, I just wanted to see you. Is that a crime?” he says, backing away, folding his hands behind his back. There’s an artificial grin on his face. “Was this enjoyable for you?”

“Well, um, it was alright.”

“Did you like my recitation?”

“No…”

He read your stupid favorite series and the idiot love interest did both of those things. Does he have something that Kaiser doesn’t? And should he throw an irrational and jealous tantrum about it, shoujo style, or should he move onto the amnesia subplot?

This is awkward. You can’t think of an inoffensive topic to bring up. Perhaps deliberately withdrawing yourself from him has impaired your conversational skills? Either way, his unpredictable actions from earlier are throwing you off your game.

Kaiser follows you when you lead him to the couch, sitting in a manner you think is far too dignified considering he was serenading you from under your balcony not too long ago — prim and proper, with his ankle crossed over his knee and his hands intertwined together like he’s at a fancy meeting, offering opinions about a business deal.

You fumble for the remote with sweaty fingers, turning on the TV, hoping for a distraction. You can’t focus because you can feel Kaiser’s gaze on you, putting you on edge, burning into your side profile. He’s not even paying attention to whatever random show you started.

You turn towards him, conveying your incredulity with a raise of your eyebrows because you’re not even sure what you’re supposed to ask. ‘Why are you looking at me?’ doesn’t communicate what you want to say to the fullest extent.

“Oh, you caught me staring longingly at you. How embarrassing,” Kaiser says with the same sly smile, not sounding the slightest bit ashamed.

“Are you okay?”

“No. Have we met before?”

You scrunch your face in evident disbelief and think, OBVIOUSLY?

It makes Kaiser contemplate whether the amnesiac subplot is worth continuing.

“Seriously, you’re acting weird,” you say after gathering your wits.

“‘Weird,’” he repeats in fake amusement and looks away, switching from… whatever he’s been doing to a strange defensiveness, then adjusts the collar of his shirt. “I think the definition of that word is subjective.”

“I mean, sure.”

“And anyway, you were the one who was acting strange first.”

“Me?”

“Yes. Instead of acting like I don’t exist anymore, you should’ve just said you want to separate.”

God, Kaiser is so dramatic. Saying you were ‘acting like he doesn’t exist’ just because your world doesn’t revolve around him. You’re struggling to keep up with these mood swings. “But I don’t want to break up?”

“Oh,” he says before his lips turn up again. “That’s good,” he settles on, figuring it makes him come across as calm and collected enough.

“Honestly, I don’t know what you were doing, but… if you were worried about something, maybe you should’ve just told me?”

“You’re so cute when you’re being hypocritical.”

You cross your arms and frown, offended.

“I mean,” Kaiser elaborates, “you haven’t told me why you’re avoiding me either. And what was I doing? I wanted to find a new way to woo you again, but since you didn’t notice, it obviously didn’t work. Let’s just pretend it never happened.”

“Well, it’s hard to put it into words,” you say, picking at a hangnail on your finger to distract yourself. “I don’t want you to woo me or anything. A lot of the things you do are performative, just for show. Even all this wasn’t sincere… So I don’t wanna be in a situation where I’m opening up to you when you’re not doing the same.”

He seems taken aback by this. “Do you doubt my feelings for you?”

“Not exactly. More like the depth of them, if that makes sense?”

“When I thought I was losing you, I started acting irrational,” he says in a disdainful tone, vaguely gesturing at nothing in particular to imply this entire ordeal. “I hate to admit it, but it scared me how much it was affecting me.” Kaiser appears to regret admitting this almost immediately, though, because he tries to divert your attention by asking, “Is this the appealing kind of vulnerable? Or the pathetic one? I could repeat myself while flipping my hair from my best angle if it’d help.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you worry,” you say. “I should’ve just been upfront instead of playing games. You were right, that’s pretty hypocritical of me.”

“Yes, you should be sorry, making me act like a clown.” You narrow your eyes at him in annoyance. “But I guess I was confusing you, so I’ll forgive you this time.”

“Hold on,” you say, when the tropes finally click into your head (though you have to admit, as much as you love the romance genre, these things do come across as really bizarre in real life). “I don’t know if you were reading with your ass or what, but all these things are supposed to happen before the characters get together. It was way too late for any of this!”

“Haha. Is that so?” Kaiser asks, pretending he’s not dying of even more mortification on the inside. Then he pulls out his phone. “That reminds me, I organized a duel for your hand against Ness at the city center for later. I guess I should cancel it.”

“What-”

“Don’t worry, we choreographed it to be quick and painless, with a decisive win in my favor,” he says, as if any of what he mentioned is what you were questioning.

“Choreographed- Never mind, actually, I don’t wanna know. Why would Ness even agree?”

“Because I asked him to do it…?”

[cinnbar-bun]

So, have you ever seen those videos of someone with a southern accent speaking Japanese? Can I request a Josuke Higashikata x Fem Reader. Where the reader is from abroad, so they have an accent, and Josuke doesn't really realize it until one day, when they get frustrated, their accent thickens? What would be his reaction? <3

Josuke and a Reader w/ an Accent! (GN Reader)

Rating: SFW

Word Count: ~.6k

Notes: Reader is GN! I know you requested for a fem reader but I like to write for everyone, so no pronouns specified, no spoilers for Part 4. Can be read as either romantic or platonic <3

Taglist: @starr-l1ghtt

Josuke knew you were from abroad, but admittedly, it would slip from his mind on occasion. He was just so used to you that he’d forget you weren’t always around in Morioh. 

Your Japanese was pretty good for someone from abroad (way better than Josuke’s “delinquent” style of speaking), and your slight accent was just another thing he’d kinda not notice. You spoke Japanese and that was enough for him!

Especially since he knows what it’s like to be considered different for their style of speech, he just doesn’t compute. 

UNTIL that is, you were getting frustrated with a study guide for an upcoming test in the class you were in. You were mumbling under your breath, so Josuke couldn’t catch most of what you said, but it was clear you were not happy. 

He tried to reassure you that you’d do fine, yet it didn’t do much to soothe you. With an upset sigh, your full accent came out and he was wide-eyed. 

You didn’t even notice what you were doing, so caught up in ranting about how annoying the class and the professor were that you let your accent out. You had rambled and ranted for a good while before you paused once you noticed Josuke staring at you with a a slack jaw. 

“Huh? Why’re you staring at me like that?” 

Josuke doesn’t know how to respond, but he just looks at you in amazement and shock. 

“Oh, uh… your voice. It was different for a second.” 

If you get embarrassed and flustered, he immediately tries to do damage control and tells you that it’s not a bad thing! Not at all! He just got surprised since he’s used to how you spoke Japanese previously. 

“N-no, wait, I didn’t mean it like that! I meant I just didn’t expect that! Please don’t cry! Please! I’ll cry too!”

If you laugh it off, he laughs it off with you. “Seriously, you sounded so different!” 

One thing he does admit it right away, though? 

“Your accent… it’s so cool!” 

He finds your accent awesome. It’s so uniquely you, and it makes you even more special in his eyes. He doesn’t wanna sound weird by saying that out loud though (would that be weird…?), but he’s interested in hearing it more. 

Cue the very (un)subtle comments asking you to maybe speak your native tongue. 

Especially under the guise of “learning a new language for fun”. 

But he’s so bad at paying attention and learning, he flubs it up immensely. 

He can’t help it, he’s just really interested in hearing you talk, and when you talk he kinda forgets to think cuz all he hears is your voice and then he wants to hear you talk more and now you asked him a question and crap, what does he say??? What does he say to show he understands what you’re saying??? 

“Heh. Yeah. Totally.” 

“Josuke, I asked what was 4 + 4.” 

“Damn it…” 

He definitely doesn’t want to come off as rude but he does like to say that he’s interested in hearing your accent more. You’re just one of the coolest people in his eyes so he’s always wanting to know more about you. 

He does hope that he can be a safe space for you to talk with your accent or not be embarrassed for it around him. 

And trust me, he’s a built in bodyguard too. If someone dares to comment about it or make fun of it, he’ll pummel them quickly with Crazy Diamond. He is NOT allowing anyone to talk negatively about it. 

Probably triggers him as quickly as someone commenting about his hair does. 

So please don’t feel the need to hide yourself from him! Josuke is a sweetie and he will always gladly listen to you.

[iambilliejeanok]

You like it when I hurt you? 🩷

Satoru x Reader

Warnings: 18+, dacryphillia, smut, vaginal sex, brattaming, rough sex, nsfw from the onset and throughout, not for the feint hearted.

🩷BRAIN-ROT🩷

You walked down the hallway in complete silence, trying to avoid his occasional glances by looking into the classrooms on your left, Satoru finally giving up trying to talk to you, growing upset by the minute from the silent treatment and the petty attitude you still threw at him. You could tell by the firm and almost tight grip his huge hand engulfed yours in. You seemed to be winning, the pride bubbling up inside of you distracting you from realising he was actually leading you somehwere.

He stopped in front of one of the classrooms, and you had no choice but to stop too, sighing loudly to communicate your irritation. Before you could even turn to fully face him, he yanked you into the classroom, sliding the door shut and pinning you against the wall beside it, your head still trying to adjust to his swift and sudden actions when you realised he already had you trapped, his arm wrapped around your front to hold you tight against his chest, while he used his weight to pin you against the cool wall.

“Since you’re in the mood to be a bitch today, I guess I don’t have to be nice either”, he said, his tone still playful as usual, and if anyone could hear him he clearly was unbothered by that. “Wha-”, you attempted to speak, hoping to defend yourself, Satoru cutting you off as his free hand slipped in between the slit of your dress, the coolness of his rough palms caressing your skin as he went up higher sending pleasant tingles down your spin. “And since you’re so fucking impatient with me, I’m sure we can jump right to it eh?”, the normal playful tone he always used when he spoke to you now unsettling, his thumb hooking into the thin band of your thong, his open hand still palming your thigh as he began tugging it off of you. “Satoru, what are you doing?”, you spoke, your voice coming out shakier than you wanted it to, your cheek pressed against the wall from how hard he pinned you against it, the back side of your head pressing into his chest.

Itches began showing up in random places on your body as your temperature dramatically increased, the heat radiating of Gojo’s body not helping your case as you burned from the arousal quickly building up in your core, down your thighs, between your legs…The slight anxiety you felt triggered by his words only fueling your arousal. He finally snapped.

“Just takin care of this little attitude you’ve been walking around with”, he replied, unhooking his finger from your thong that he managed to tug down to middle of your thigh, now unbuttoning his pants, the sound of his zipper flying down and his alluring deeper voice above your head only exciting you further. “Thought maybe a good fucking would grab your attention”, his hand now lifting up the back of your dress, the slits on either side helping a great deal. He fucking loved this dress on you, the convenience of it making him wonder if you’d planned this all out, Gojo snickering to himself, making you swallow.

“B-but…I’m sorry Satoru”, you whimpered, your voice now all soft for him as you buckled under the weight of his aura. “Nah, you’re going to be sorry”, he said, reaching into his draws to pull out his painful erection, “You wanna be sorry don’t ya?”, he smiled, and you squirmed in his strong hold, your pussy embarrassingly wet as it ached for him, biting your lip when you felt his hot meat brushing past your ass, the tip tickling a trail down between your thighs. “Nooo, I don’t!“. “Yeah you do, that’s why you’ve been so mean to me huh? You wanted to piss me off into fucking you? You wanted a reason for me to hurt you?”, he teased. Grabbing the base of his dick in his hand, he had to forced the tip between your thighs that barely spread open from the thong keeping them together. “ Satoruuu”, you whimpered in embarrassment, too shy to admit that it was true in fact. “”Uh huh, I know sweetie”, he chuckled. He was pleasantly surprised when he felt himself easily slip right between your lips, your juices generously coating the fat head of his dick, stroking it back and forth over your dripping wet folds to get himself a little more lubricated, and you wanted him so bad already, pressing your forehead against the wall to calm down. “You love me tearing you up with my dick huh? You can barely take all of me at once, yet you easily cum on my dick when I mercilessly stretch you out no?”, he continued, your body growing impossibly warmer, your pussy even wetter, the ache now unbearable as he taunted you with his explicit talk.

He was so right, yet he wouldn’t give it to you, no matter how much you tried to wiggle against him, he only kept on slowly dragging himself against your folds. “Uh uh uh, answer me first”, he said, his breathing now heavy while desperately waiting for you to approve of his words. “Satoruuuu!”, you whined, Gojo squeezing you tighter, his hand on your arm would probably leave bruises anytime soon. “Beg for it”, he said and you moaned, feeling yourself burning up with each passing second. “Pleeeasssee!”. “Please what?”. “Ugghhh! Please fuck me Satoru, hard, have I not been bad en-uhhhhh!!!”, you screamed, your wishes fulfilled as he shoved the majority of his size deep inside of you, easily aided by your fluids, your pussy hot and tight around him, forcing him to grunt loudly as it squeezed and sucked him in, as though it begged and longed for him to drive in deeper. He knew he couldn’t obey your pussy just yet, or else he’d seriously hurt you, opting to wait for you to adjust to his size before he’d continue. You couldn’t stop the stream of curses, whimpers and moans that fell from your lips as you tried to adjust to the painfully delicious burn of him stretching your walls apart. “You’re so fucking b-big”, you cried out, struggling to catch your breath as he held you tight. “And you’re gonna take all of it, neh?”, he spoke , the last word sounding more like a threat, a threat that made your pussy clench down on him, making him hiss out in pleasure.

He couldn’t hold back any longer, pulling himself out to the tip before the thrusting himself in as deep as he could again, his fingers digging into your hips as he tried to find a steady pace, pulling only halfway out before slamming himself back into you, hard enough to hear your voice crack as you screamed out in blissful agony.

“Fuck! You can barely take me already?”, he groaned, feeling your knees growing weak as he carried most of your body weight on the arm that wrapped around your front. As much as you would’ve loved to talk with him as he mercilessly fucked you, you couldn’t form a word with every breath being ripped from your lungs, the pain still slightly there, but the pleasure crippled you. You gripped the hem of his shirt tightly, your brain completely empty as you indulged in such pleasure, your eyes rolling hard and your body began shivering. Satoru was far too intoxicated , lost in the pleasure of your squelching heat eating him up to try and tease you now, burying his head in the crook of your neck to bite you, your pussy clenching down on him as you violently came, your thighs shaking as you barely managed to stand on your own two feet, wetting yourself as well as Gojo with the liquids gushing out of you. As you nearly zoned out from such a vicious orgasm, Gojo didn’t dare stop moving his hips, still thrusting into you like a man possessed as he chased for his own release. He wasn’t too sure if your orgasm had ever ended as he continued fucking you hard, and he didn’t quite care, forcing himself as deep as he could go inside of you and circling his hips so you could feel every inch of him, rewarded with more of your juices running down his balls and your thighs, drenching his pants as he reached for your clit, rubbing circles on it while he found his pace again. Tears flooded your eyes now, spilling down your cheeks from the sheer intensity of your orgasm, Gojo finally releasing with a loud grunt, burying his face into your neck to muffle the sounds of his whimpers as he unloaded deep inside of you.

He basically carried you, your legs completely numb as you shivered against him, Gojo bringing his other arm to wrap itself around you, holding you tightly as you both slowly recovered. A few minutes went by and you were still a mess, trying to get a feel of your feet again. “I wanna do that again”, Gojo randomly said, his voice a little horse as planted kisses on your neck, still sheathed deep inside of you, never wanting to pull out. “I don’t th-think I c-can right n-now S-Satoru”, you panted smiling as you felt him frown on your neck. “Are you okay though, do I need to take you home?”, he asked, preparing himself to pull out of you, now that your body was more relaxed in his arms. “Yeah, home sounds g-good”. As he slowly pulled out of you, he began lifting up your panties, reveling in the quiet moans you made as he slipped out of you, quickly lifting your panties up to keep the mess he made inside of you in there a little longer. Just until you got home. Gently placing you on a chair, he went to work on pulling up his pants and straightening his clothes, a large wet stain in his crotch area, running down his thighs. There’s no ways he could carry you home like this.

After cleaning up the mess the two of you made on the floor, he put the bucket and mop back in the closet, planning on dealing with it in the morning, walking over to where you sat to pick you up. In a flash the two of you were now in his home, having had no choice but to teleport you there. After some good rest, he’d deal with you later on.

[thelaughtercafe]

Abandoned

Tea Type: Milk Tea

Potential Triggers: Struggling with eating in an anorexic manner as well as intentional sleep deprivation and self care in general.

Pairing: Daryl/F! Reader (Can be read platonic)

Length: 2.4k+

Summary: Daryl leaves, and by the time he comes home you've completely stopped taking care of yourself, much to his upset. He comforts and helps you get back on the right track.

A/N: Me? Writing more self-indulgent comfort about struggling with eating, sleep and self care? It’s more likely than you think! Also maybe I’ve binged nearly 3 whole seasons of The Walking Dead and fell in love with Daryl again. That probably didn’t help. This is just pure fluff and hurt/comfort!

When Rick and the others returned, your eyes scanned them all instinctively for injuries and when you didn’t see him, you swallowed hard.

“…Where is he?”

Your voice cracked as you looked to Carol and she gave you a watery smile of her own.

“He left. Found Merle and made his choice.”

Her voice was gentle and understanding but all you felt was abandoned and cold and angry. A rare emotion for you to feel at your family. When she went to move forward and put a hand on your shoulder you cringed and hugged yourself instead.

Your heart-broken gaze moved to Rick.

“No. You-you just let him leave?! How could you?”

“We didn’t have a choice. He was gonna bring Merle back-”

“So you just abandoned him?! Let him leave? After everything we’ve been through? Everything he’s done for us?!”

Tears streamed freely down both cheeks and you moved to storm out of the metal gates when Glenn stopped you with a hand on your upper arm.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

You roughly pulled away and leveled a glare his way.

“Get off me! You all might be fine with abandoning him to die with his brother, just the two of them out there, but I’m not. I’d rather take my chances with someone I know will be loyal.”

You whirled to look at the whole group, angrily wiping away your tears.

“Y'know what? Merle was a dick. He was rude, and crass and didn’t care about anyone but his brother. He could be monstrous and I’m not negating that. But don’t forget that Daryl was different too in the beginning, before we gave him the chance to change. And even if Merle didn’t- even if he was still a jerk who put himself before others- I trust Daryl enough to adapt and be loyal to us both. To try and help his brother change. I thought you all would too.”

When you moved to the gate you frowned as Carol blocked the way glare weakening to upset.

“…Please, move Carol. I have to do this.”

“Do what? Get yourself killed? Starve to death as you search for them like needles in a haystack? I may have lost him but I am not losing you too. And he’d never want you to go out there and put yourself at risk. He’d never forgive any of us if we let you leave. Deep down, I think you know that.”

You stared one another down before giving a bitter, watery laugh.

“Guess we’ll never know what he would think now, would we? Whatever. I’ll be in my cell if anyone needs me.”

—–

The following days were beyond painful. You found yourself constantly looking for him on instinct, used to his grounding presence just a ways in front or back of you, the way he’d mumble quips under his breath that made you smile, blush or laugh. You missed your late night talks. Remember as you’d warmed up to him. Told him “Ohana means family. Family means no-one gets left behind.” You recalled the way he’d smirked a little and nudged you with a mumbled. “What are you, 5?” You’d gone on to defend Lilo and Stitch and nudged him back with a playful smile. It had been cold that night and he’d wrapped his arms around you, made you feel safe.

And now, you’d never felt more vulnerable and isolated. You understood what he felt like at the start. Everyone looked at you like you were a wild animal, something to be pitied that could lash out at any time.

Luckily Beth and Glenn had finally given up, but Carol was persistent. You walked around the prison on patrol, her right at your back.

“Please, eat something at least, if you won’t sleep. It’s been days. Daryl wouldn’t want you to-”

“Would you stop saying that? I already told you. I’ll eat and sleep when he’s back, not a second sooner.”

“You’re acting like a child!”

Your eyes flared as you turned to her, though your expression remained cool.

“Well maybe I finally got tired being the mature one all the time. I’m still doing my part, helping everyone else. Just stop caring. Clearly it’s easy enough for everyone else to.”

Aaron joined you both as you were turning to leave when suddenly gunfire rang out, making you drop and pull Carol down with you instinctively. Aaron fell suddenly and you gasped as you saw he’d been shot in the head. Carol’s face grew steely as she positioned the body in front of you both, holding you to her tightly. Thankfully your tiny frame was easily covered.

“You stay still and you don’t move alright?”

Carol’s voice was shaky as you heard shouts ring out all around you. Are you being attacked? You hated that even now you still shook from adrenaline and fear. You heard Maggie cry out as she provided cover fire.

“Carol, take her and go!!”

You both jumped up and rushed over to where you could see Beth and Carl, grabbing guns.

A car could be heard speeding and you took the time to catch your breath as you watched in anxious horror as walkers came out of the back, hordes of them. Your mind raced, trying to figure out where everyone else was. You could all be together and deal with the threat.

You did not want to lose anyone else.

In the distance you saw Glenn and Michonne helping what looked like Hershel thank God and when they pulled up you hugged them all, quickly thinking of who else was left. Rick. Where the Hell was Rick?

You asked Hershel as much and he reassured you.

“Calm down. I saw him, he’s gonna be alright.”

He looked towards the others.

“…He’s not alone. Daryl and his brother are back. Look.”

He raised his chin behind you and you sighed in immeasurable relief at the sight. Thank God. Your core family was still together.

You all gathered and some slept while others spoke quietly in the night. You couldn’t even look at Daryl. Not yet. You didn’t want to break; not when the situation was so precarious.

Once morning came discussions began in earnest on what to do. Some wanted to leave, others wanting to stay. Rick went to leave again and Hershel finally snapped, understandably so.

When Rick returned he began allocating and you sighed as Glenn spoke up, mind racing as you tried to think of the best course of action.

“There’s barely any food or ammo.”

Daryl mumbled back.

“Been there before. We’ll be alright.”

“That was when it was just us. Before there was a snake in the nest.”

You frowned.

“Man we gonna go through this again? Look, Merle’s staying here. He’s with us now. Get used to it. All y'all.”

He stormed off as Rick tried to stop him, heading to the second floor.

You watched the group debate.

You understood both perspectives, you really did. But with a final glance around at the others, you knew where you stood, deciding to voice it when Glenn asked a dangerous question.

“Deliver Merle to the governor. Bargaining chip. Give him his traitor, maybe declare a truce.”

You moved to glare up at him, knowing he was hurting and trying to temper your instinct; protectiveness and annoyance.

“No-one’s saying you have to like the guy or forgive him, Glenn. But think about Daryl. For once. He’s done so much for us without asking for anything in return. The least we can do is offer his family a place here.”

You scoffed as you moved to go to your cell.

“At the very least, he certainly deserves better than you talking about killing his brother in cold blood behind his back."

"Like he wouldn’t throw you to the Walkers to get away the first chance he got.”

You paused at Glenn’s hiss, before looking behind your shoulder at him, ignoring the dizziness that was making you lightheaded.

“You’re probably right. But I also know Daryl would put his life on the line to protect me from that same Walker. That’s the difference. I know why you feel the way you do, and I am truly sorry for what you and Maggie both went through. But Daryl? He’s worth more to me than revenge you think will make you feel better. And deep down I think you feel that way too.”

You walked away before he could say anything more and headed up to see Daryl. You were safe for now, and you couldn’t wait any longer.

He was waiting on his bed, fiddling with his arrows. You took a shaky breath to try and steel yourself but when you opened your mouth his eyes abruptly cut to you.

“When was the last time you ate or slept?”

You winced and looked away, mouth closing as you’d gone quiet. You swallowed nervously.

“…haven’t since you left.”

“‘Scuse me?!”

You looked back at him when his voice rose and saw the anger in his eyes.

“The Hell you mean you ain’t ate or slept since I left? It’s been 4 days now.”

“It doesn’t matter, I’ll do it now okay so just-”

You turned to leave, cheeks burning in humiliation at your secret being out but looked back as rough calloused fingers curled around your arm.

“Like Hell it don’t matter! Look at me!”

You met his eyes and your tears finally fell as you did so. The aggressive tone was a bit triggering, but you and him both knew you wouldn’t have broken down like you needed to otherwise.

“I’m sorry okay!? I didn’t want you to know, I thought-I just…”

You used your free hand to cover your mouth as you sobbed.

“I didn’t want to live in a world you weren’t here with me! They wouldn’t let me go find you so I just- I just shut down. It was good anyway, Carl’s a growing kid and I’d rather my portion be used to help the others than go to waste. It was a good thing!”

Your voice cracked and you looked away to try and gather yourself when Daryl gently guided your face back to look him in the eye.

“You sacrificin’ yourself while spiraling ain't a good thing. I promise I won’t leave like that again. An’ if I ever did, I’d come back for ya. But that means ya gotta take care of yourself. Not worry the others. Beth told me, soon as I got in. Told me you was bein’ a damn fool and to get some sustenance and sleep in ya.”

You gave a watery laugh at that and moved to hug him, hiding your face in his neck and taking comfort in the warmth and solidness of him.

“Should’ve known she’d tell you. Between her and Carol it was getting pretty difficult. Pretty sure Carol was just gonna start force-feeding me soon.”

His husky chuckle made you melt further into him but he sighed and pulled back, raising his chin toward the 1rst floor.

“She must’ve got her stubborn streak from watchin’ you. Now, get some food first before you doze off, you can eat it here with me and then you’re going the Hell to bed. Y'know I’ll wake you soon as anything happens.”

You blushed at the embarrassing question you wanted to ask but he beat you to it, fingers running through your hair in the familiar way he did when you’d have a nightmare or insomnia before he left.

“Obviously I’ll be right by your side. You ain’t the only one who was strugglin’. Kept looking over my shoulder to make sure you were alright. I want you in my sight. 'Specially knowing what stupid shit you’ll do if separated from me again.”

You smiled at the fondness in his tone and pulled away to go get food. The dizziness was getting worse so you grabbed an apple and called it good as you trucked up the stairs again to his room.

He frowned a bit at the small portion but sighed in defeat after a moment from where he was back on the bottom bunk.

“Apple for now is fine, it’s probably best you get your stomach used to food again anyhow.”

You forced the apple down despite your lack of hunger since Daryl was back. That was what you’d promised Carol. You didn’t want anyone to worry about you anymore. You’d been selfish enough. Clearly you weren’t as slick as you thought if both Beth and Carol had caught on.

When you finished it down to the core he moved over to make a small space for you to cuddle into, eyes still locked on his arrow. You couldn’t stifle your smile and moved to make yourself comfortable. Wall at your back and Daryl at your right it felt like you could breathe again and you couldn’t help your yawn at the familiar position.

“Here. I doubt you’ll need if since you’re so tired but it never hurts.”

His voice was gruff but you saw the intimacy of the action as he tossed his familiar leather jacket over you, knowing you slept infinitely better with a blanket.

“You can use me as a pillow too, if ya need. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

You relaxed completely and let yourself feel safe and contented as you snuggled into his shoulder and neck. The warmth emanating from him was already making you drift off and the dizziness was fading.

“Thanks for not leaving me. Sorry for being stupid and selfish and… like a child.”

He chuckled at that and moved one of his arms to circle you and pull you closer, ruffling your hair before continuing to play with it.

“S'fine. Everyone’s warranted a temper tantrum now and then. Just don’ make a habit of it or I’ll have to smack ya upside the head good.”

“Yeah, right. A big…softie like you?”

You stifled another yawn.

“Doubt it.”

He smiled and you blissfully passed into unconsciousness. He looked up as Carol leaned against the doorway, a wry smile on her face.

“Haven’t had a chance to say. I’m glad you came back.”

He scoffed a little.

“To what? All this?”

Carol came to sit down, voice quiet but clear.

“This is our home.”

He met her eyes meaningfully.

“This is a tomb.”

“That’s what T-Dog called it. Thought he was right…till you found me.”

Her voice was somber but gentle.

“He’s your brother, but he’s not good for you. Don’t let him bring you down. After all, look how far you’ve come.”

Her eyes moved to you sleeping soundly against him in meaning and he looked away a moment before looking back as they shared a chuckle.

[thequeenofneverland1]

The Hope Of The Mikaelsons Family Part Nine

Summary: Y/n has lost hope of ever seeing her family again. Despite her family's unwavering belief and determination to reunite with her, Y/N struggles to move on from the pain of their absence. With the support of her friends, mentors, her mother, her aunt and others, she slowly begins to find a balance between honoring her family's memory and embracing a new path forward. The Mikaelson siblings work to find a way to reconnect with Y/N, they are reminded of the strength of family bonds and the power of hope in overcoming challenges.

Warnings: Emotional themes, Supernatural elements Family dynamics, Mental health, Potential triggers, Hope and optimism

You and Caroline were sitting in the Mystic Grill, enjoying a rare moment of peace. The conversation flowed easily until she, in her usual cheerful manner, brought up your family. “You know your family were always so—"

Your expression darkened instantly. "Caroline, don't."

She was taken aback, blinked. "What? I was just saying-.”

Your voice was sharp, cutting through her words. "I've lost hope of ever seeing them again. Why hasn't anyone else moved on? Because I did. And I don't want to talk about them anymore. If you can't respect that, then I'm leaving."

Her eyes widened, realizing her mistake. "I'm sorry, Y/N. didn't mean to upset you."

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the anger bubbling inside you."Just... please. Let's stop talking about them."

Caroline nodded, reaching out to squeeze Y/N's hand. "Okay. I'm here for you. We don't have to talk about them.”

You gave a small, appreciative nod, and the tension between you and her eased. The topic of your family was dropped, and you and her move on to lighter subjects, both silently agreeing to avoid the painful memories.

Hayley paced back and forth in the dimly lit room, her eyes red and puffy from crying. Freya sat nearby, her face etched with concern as she watched her struggle with her emotions.

"Freya, I don't know what to do," Hayley choked out, her voice breaking. "Y/N has lost all hope of ever seeing them again. She thinks they left her, that they abandoned us. How can I convince her otherwise when she won't even listen to me?"

Freya sighed deeply, standing up to place a comforting hand on Hayley's shoulder. "She's been through so much, Hayley. We all have. It's hard to see past the pain and believe in something better when everything feels so broken."

Hayley nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I just want her to know that they didn't leave us by choice. They fought for us, for her. But she doesn't believe it."

Freya's eyes softened as she hugged Hayley tightly. "We need to find a way to show her the truth. Actions speak louder than words. Maybe there's something we can do to prove to her that they never gave up on her."

"But how?" Hayley asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "How do we show her that?"

Freya pulled back slightly, looking into Hayley's eyes. "We remind her of their love and their sacrifices. We find a way to bring her hope again, even if it means seeking out answers and bringing them to her. She needs to see and feel that love again, not just hear about it."

Hayley nodded, a glimmer of determination returning to her eyes. "You're right. We'll find a way. For Y/N."

Freya smiled softly, squeezing Hayley's hand. "We'll do it together. She'll believe again, I promise."

As Hayley and Freya held each other, trying to find strength in their shared resolve, you walked in, having just returned from your time with Caroline. You stopped short, having overheard the last part of their conversation.

"Really?" Your voice’s cut through the room, causing both women to turn and face you. "You guys need to move on. Why don’t you understand? They’re not coming back. Get that in your head."

Your mother’s face fell, and she took a step toward you. "Y/N, it's not that simple. We can't just forget about them."

You shook your head, your eyes filled with a mix of anger and sorrow. "You think I haven't tried to move on? Every day, I try to forget, but you all keep dragging me back into the past. They’re gone, Mom. Accept it."

Freya stepped forward, trying to mediate. "Y/N, we understand your pain. We feel it too. But we believe that there's still hope."

Your expression hardened. "Hope? Hope is just a cruel joke at this point. They left us, and I’ve accepted it. Why can’t you?"

Hayley's voice trembled as she spoke. "Because they fought for you, Y/N. They loved us. They didn’t leave because they wanted to. They sacrificed everything for your safety."

You crossed your arms, your voice cold. "Well, that sacrifice cost them their lives. It's time we accept that and move on."

Freya looked at you with a mixture of sadness and determination. "We're not asking you to forget, Y/N. We're asking you to remember the love they had for you, and to have faith that maybe, just maybe, there's a way to see them again."

You shook your head, turning away. "I can't keep living in the past. I need to move forward. If you can't do that, then I don’t know how we’re supposed to get through this."

You walked out of the living room, leaving your mother and your aunt Freya standing there, a heavy silence hanging in the air. The struggle between hope and acceptance continued to weigh heavily on all their hearts.

Your mother watched you leave the room, a mix of frustration and sadness on her face. She turned to Freya, shaking her head. "See? I told you. She's so stubborn, just like Klaus."

Freya gave a small, understanding smile. "She is. It's that same fierce determination that Klaus has. But that's also what makes her strong."

She sighed, wiping away the last of her tears. "I just don't know how to reach her. She's built these walls around herself, and I can't break through."

Freya placed a comforting hand on Hayley's arm. "We need to give her time. She’s processing everything in her own way. But don’t lose hope. She has a lot of Klaus in her, and that means she has a lot of love and loyalty too. She'll come around."

Hayley nodded, taking a deep breath. "I hope you're right. I just want her to be okay. To find some peace."

Freya squeezed her arm reassuringly. "We’ll get there, Hayley. Together. For Y/N and for the rest of the family."

Hayley managed a small smile, feeling a bit of hope rekindle within her. "Thank you, Freya. We’ll find a way."

You stormed out of the living room, needing some space to clear your head. As you wandered through the house, you found yourself in front of a large photo gallery. The walls were lined with pictures of your family and you. Each photo captured moments of love, laughter,and unity.

You stared at a picture of your father holding you when you were a baby, his expression one of pure adoration. Another photo showed your family together, smiling proudly at you. You felt a lump forming in your throat as you took in each image.

"Everyone should just move on," you whispered to yourself. "I've lost hope because they're not coming back."

As you continued to look at the photos, memories began to flood your mind. Flashbacks of your childhood played out vividly

Your father teaching you how to paint on the paint board, his patience and encouragement are always present. "Just a gentle stroke here, Y/n. Like this," Klaus said, his hand guiding you. "See? You've got it. Little Wolf."

Your uncle Elijah guiding you through difficult times with his calm wisdom.

“Whenever you feel lost, just remember to breathe and take a step back," Elijah advised, his voice steady and reassuring. "We'll figure it out together."

Your aunt Bex playful nature always ready to make you laugh.

“Catch me if you can, Y/n!" Rebekah called out, her laughter echoing as you and her raced through the garden. "You're getting faster!"

Your uncle Kol's mischievous grin as he showed you some new trick or adventure.

“Watch this, Y/n!" Kol exclaimed, a twinkle in his eye as he performed a small magic trick. "Think you can do it too?"

The end of the flashbacks

Tears welled up in your eyes as you relieved these moments. The love and sacrifices your family had made for you became painfully clear. They hadn’t abandoned you, they had done everything in their power to protect you and each other.

You wiped your tears, feeling a mix of sorrow and newfound understanding. Maybe you had been too quick to lose hope. Maybe, just maybe, your family’s love and strength were still with you, guiding you even in their absence.

You turned away from the gallery, your resolve to move forward stronger than ever. You made your way back to find your mother and aunt Freya, who were waiting for you with concerned expressions.

Your mother stepped forward, her voice gentle. "Y/N, can we talk? We just want to—.”

You raised a hand, cutting her off. "If you guys are going to talk about them, then I’m leaving. Why haven’t you lost hope? Come on, move on already. It’s been years, days, weeks, months... they probably forgot about us."

Freya sighed, exchanging a worried glance with Hayley. "Y/N, it's not that simple. We haven't lost hope because we believe in the strength of our family. We can't just give up."

Your eyes flashed with frustration. "Why? Why can't you give up? Do you really think holding onto hope is going to change anything? They’re gone, and they’re not coming back. It’s time to face reality."

Hayley took a step closer, her voice trembling slightly. "Y/N, they didn't leave us by choice. They fought for us, for you. We can’t just forget that."

Your jaw clenched. "And I get that. But holding onto hope is just making everything harder. It’s time to let go."

Freya's eyes softened as she spoke. "Y/N, we know you're hurting. We're all hurting. But hope is what keeps us going. It's what keeps their memory alive in us.”

You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes again. "Their memory is alive in me, too. But I can't keep living in the past. I need to move on. And if you can’t do that, then I don’t know how we’re supposed to move forward together."

With that, you turned on your heel and walked away, leaving Hayley and Freya standing there, their hearts heavy with the weight of their unresolved grief. The struggle between holding onto hope and accepting reality continued to pull them in different directions, but deep down, they all shared the same pain and love for the lost family.

You retreated to your room, closing the door behind you with a sigh. You leaned against the door, trying to steady your racing thoughts. Just as you were beginning to calm down, there was a knock.

You opened the door to find Marcel standing there, concern etched on his face.

"Y/N," Marcel began, but you cut him off.

"If you came here to convince me to not lose hope, then you're wasting your time," you said sharply. "So you can leave now."

Marcel shook his head, stepping into the room despite your words. "I'm not here to convince you of anything, Y/N. I just want to talk."

You crossed your arms, your expression guarded. "Talk about what? How everyone is stuck in the past? How no one seems to understand that they’re gone?"

Marcel sighed, his gaze softening. "I get it, Y/N. I really do. You've been through so much, and it's easier to just let go than to keep hoping for something that may never happen. But pushing everyone away won’t make the pain go away."

You turned your back to him, staring out the window. "I’m not pushing anyone away. I’m just trying to move forward."

"And that’s okay," Marcel said gently. "But moving forward doesn’t mean you have to forget them or the love they had for you. It’s about finding a balance, keeping their memory alive while also living your life."

Your shoulders slumped, the weight of your emotions pressing down on you. "It’s just so hard. Everywhere I turn, it’s like they’re still here, and it hurts too much to keep hoping."

Marcel stepped closer, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "You’re not alone in this. We’re all trying to find a way to move forward while keeping their spirit alive. We just need to do it together."

You turned to face him, your eyes filled with tears. "I don’t know if I can do it."

Marcel pulled you into a gentle hug. "You don’t have to do it alone. We’re here for you, Y/N. We’ll find a way through this, one step at a time."

For the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to lean into the comfort of someone else’s embrace, letting a bit of your guard down. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way to hold onto hope while still finding a path forward.

In a cozy, candlelit room filled with the scent of aged books and the faint hum of magical energy, Klaus, Kol, Elijah, and Rebekah gathered around a table. The room was alive with a sense of anticipation and hope.

Klaus leaned back in his chair, a rare smile playing on his lips. "I can just imagine my little wolf’s face when we finally reunite. She must be holding onto hope, just as we are."

Kol grinned, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "She’s always been strong. I’m sure she believes in us as much as we believe in her."

Elijah nodded, his expression calm and confident. "Indeed. Y/N has a resilient spirit. She knows we would never abandon her.”

Rebekah's eyes glistened with emotion. "She’s probably been waiting for this moment as eagerly as we have. We just need to find the right way to reach her."

Klaus chuckled softly. "Y/N always had a way of keeping her spirits high, no matter the circumstances. She’s a Mikaelson through and through."

Kol added, "I can’t wait to see her smile again. It’s been too long since we’ve all been together."

Elijah's voice was filled with conviction. "We will make this right. She will see that our love and bond remain unbroken."

Rebekah clasped her hands together, her smile radiant. "She’ll be so happy to see us. I know she hasn’t given up hope."

Rebekah and her brothers stood around the table, the remnants of their spellcasting efforts scattered about. The candles had burned low, casting flickering shadows that danced ominously on the walls.

Klaus frowned, frustration evident in his voice. "This isn't working. We've done everything right, but there's no sign of progress."

Kol paced back and forth, his usually playful demeanor replaced by agitation. "Maybe we're missing something. A crucial ingredient or an incantation we overlooked."

Elijah studied the spell book intently, his calm facade showing cracks of concern. "We've followed every step meticulously. Perhaps the problem isn't with the spell, but with the connection itself."

Rebekah's shoulders slumped, disappointment evident in her eyes. "I was so sure this would work. Y/N needs to know we're trying to reach her."

Klaus slammed his fist on the table, causing some of the items to rattle. "We can't give up. There has to be a way."

Kol paused his pacing, looking at the others with a thoughtful expression. "Maybe we can find a witch to help us.”

Elijah nodded, his resolve strengthening. "We should.”

Rebekah's eyes flickered with renewed determination. "We owe it to Y/N to exhaust every possibility. We can't let her think we’ve given up on her."

Klaus took a deep breath, calming himself. "Agreed. But until we get back, we need to keep trying. Y/N needs to know we’re doing everything we can."

As they prepared for their return, their thoughts remained focused on you. They were unaware that your hope had dwindled, believing you were still waiting for them with the same fervor they felt. They were determined to find a way to reconnect and show you that their love and dedication were unwavering.

You sat on the edge of your bed, staring blankly at the wall. A soft knock on the door broke your reverie, and you looked up to see Lizzie standing there.

"Hey," Lizzie said softly, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her.

"Hey," you replied, your voice flat.

Lizzie sat down next to you, a sympathetic look on her face. "You know, I've been thinking about what you said earlier."

You glanced at her, curious. "What about it?”

Lizzie sighed, running a hand through her hair. "About how everyone keeps talking about them, how they keep holding onto hope. It’s been years, and they haven't moved on."

Your eyes softened with a mix of gratitude and relief. "So, you understand?"

Lizzie nodded. "Yeah, I do. It's not healthy to live in the past like this. At some point, we need to accept reality and move forward."

You looked down at your hands, feeling the weight of your emotions. "It's just so hard. Everywhere I go, it’s like they’re still here. But they’re not, and I can’t keep pretending they will be."

Lizzie placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "I get it. We need to find a way to help everyone, including you, move on. Maybe we can start by finding new things to focus on, new memories to create."

You looked up, a glimmer of hope in your eyes. "You really think that’s possible?"

Lizzie smiled gently. "I do. It won't be easy, but we can try. Together."

For the first time in a long while, you felt a spark of hope, not for your their return, but for your own future. You gave Lizzie a small, grateful smile. "Thank you. It means a lot to hear you say that."

Lizzie squeezed your shoulder reassuringly. "Anytime. We’ll figure this out, one step at a time."

With Lizzie's support, you felt a bit more confident that you could find a way to move forward, leaving behind the constant ache of hope unfulfilled and embracing a new chapter in your life.

Just as you felt a small spark of hope, the door burst open and Alaric stormed in, his face a mask of anger.

“Lizzie, what are you doing?” Alaric demanded, his voice rising. “Are you trying to make Y/N forget everything about her family?”

Lizzie stood up, meeting her father’s furious gaze with a steady one of her own. “No, Dad. I’m trying to help her move on. It’s been years, and she’s stuck in this cycle of pain because everyone keeps holding onto something that might never happen.”

Alaric’s eyes narrowed. “Her family is an important part of who she is. We can’t just erase them from her life.”

You rose to your feet, your own anger bubbling to the surface. “I’m not trying to forget them, Alaric. But I can’t keep living in the past, hoping for something that’s not going to change. I need to find a way to live my life now.”

Alaric’s expression softened slightly, but his concern was still evident. “I just don’t want you to lose who you are, Y/N.”

You took a deep breath, your voice steady. “I’m not losing who I am. I’m trying to find a way to be happy again, to move forward without being weighed down by constant hope and disappointment.”

Lizzie stepped closer to her father, her tone firm. “We’re not erasing her family, Dad. We’re helping her heal. She deserves that.”

Alaric looked between the two girls, his anger giving way to understanding. He sighed deeply, his shoulders relaxing. “Alright. I just want what’s best for you, Y/N.”

You gave him a small, grateful smile. “I know. And right now, this is what I need.”

Alaric nodded slowly. “Okay. Just know that we’re here for you, no matter what.”

As Alaric left the room, Lizzie turned back to you, giving you a reassuring nod. “We’ll get through this together.”

With Lizzie’s support and Alaric’s reluctant understanding, you felt a bit more confident that you could find a way to move forward, embracing a new chapter in your life while honoring your family’s memory.

After Alaric stormed out of the room, Lizzie and you shared a moment of silence, the tension hanging heavy in the air. Lizzie sighed, running a hand through your hair.

"I'll be right back," Lizzie said, giving you a reassuring pat on the shoulder before leaving the room.

You sat back down on the bed, feeling a mix of frustration and exhaustion. Moments later, you heard Lizzie's voice down the hall, her tone urgent. "Dad, can you please just try to understand?"

Alaric's voice was firm, bordering on anger. "Lizzie, this isn't about understanding. It's about Y/N's well-being. She needs to remember, not forget them.”

She took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. "I'm not asking her to forget. I'm just trying to help her move on."

Alaric shook his head. "I don't believe this is the right way. I'm going to call Hayley and let her know what's going on."

Lizzie's eyes widened. "Dad, please, that's not necessary—"

But Alaric had already pulled out his phone and dialed Hayley's number. He walked to a quieter corner of the school, his expression determined."Hayley, it's Alaric," he said once she answered. "We need to talk. It's about Y/N."

A pause as Hayley responded, then Alaric continued. "She's struggling, and Lizzie seems to think that helping her move on from them is the best approach. I don't agree, but I wanted you to know what's happening."

Hayley's voice, though Alaric couldn't hear it clearly, carried a tone of concern. "What do you mean, moving on?"

Alaric explained the situation, detailing Lizzie's conversation with you and how you and she had decided to focus on moving forward instead of holding onto the hope of a reunion.

Hayley sighed heavily on the other end of the line. "I understand why Y/N feels this way, but it's not that simple. She needs to process her emotions, not bury them."

"I agree," Alaric replied. "But Lizzie thinks this is the best way to help her heal."

"We need to talk to Y/N together," Hayley suggested. "She needs to hear from all of us that it's okay to grieve and remember them while also finding a way to move forward."

Alaric nodded, even though Hayley couldn't see it. "Alright. I'll make sure we have that conversation."

After ending the call, Alaric returned to Lizzie and Y/N, his expression a mix of determination and concern.

"I spoke to your mother," he said, looking directly at you. "She wants to talk to you about all of this. We need to make sure you're processing your emotions in a healthy way."

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with a mixture of apprehension and hope. "Okay. I'll talk to her."

Lizzie gave you a reassuring smile. "We'll get through this together, Y/N. You're not alone in this."

you sat back down on the bed, feeling the weight of your emotions. Alaric's phone call to your mother left you feeling cornered, but you were determined to stand your ground. Moments later, Alaric returned to the room, his expression serious.

"Y/N," Alaric began gently, "Hayley wants to talk to you about everything that's been happening."

You shook your head, your voice firm. "I don’t want to talk about them anymore. They left me. I’m moving on. I will move on."

Alaric opened his mouth to respond, but your mother’s voice interrupted from the doorway. "You're so much like your father."

Everyone turned to see Hayley standing there, her expression a mixture of sadness and understanding.

Your eyes widened "Mom..."

Your mother walked into the room, her gaze fixed on you. "You’re stubborn, determined, and fiercely independent. Just like Klaus."

Your resolve wavered for a moment before you crossed your arms defensively. "So what if I am? I can’t keep holding onto hope that isn’t there. My father, My uncles and My aunt , they all left. I have to move on."

Your mother nodded slowly, sitting down beside you. "I understand why you feel that way. It's hard to keep hoping when you feel abandoned. But you don’t have to erase them from your life to move forward."

Your eyes filled with tears as you tried to blink away. "I just... I can't keep living like this. It hurts too much."

She placed a gentle hand on your arm. "You don’t have to carry that pain alone. It's okay to grieve, and it’s okay to move on. But you don’t have to forget them to find your own path."

Lizzie stepped forward, her voice soft. "We’re all here for you, Y/N. We want to help you find a way to live your life fully, without being weighed down by the past."

Alaric nodded in agreement. "And that means finding a balance. Remembering them. while also allowing yourself to heal and grow."

You took a deep breath, looking at the faces around you. You saw the concern and love in their eyes, and it softened your defenses a bit. "I just want to be happy again."

Hayley squeezed your arm reassuringly. "You will be. It’s a process, but you’ll get there. And you don't have to do it alone."

You nodded slowly, feeling a small sense of relief. "Okay. I’ll try."

She smiled, her eyes filled with love for you. "That’s all we ask. We’re here for you, no matter what."

As they sat together, you felt a glimmer of hope, not for them, but for your own future. You realize that moving forward didn't mean forgetting your father, your uncles and your aunt, it meant finding a way to live your life while keeping their memory alive.

Months passed, and you found yourself gradually letting go of the pain and embracing a new chapter in your life. With the support of Lizzie, Alaric, your aunt Freya and your mother, you began to focus on building new memories and finding happiness in the present.

You immersed yourself in your studies and hobbies, rediscovering old passions and exploring new ones. Slowly but surely, the ache in your heart began to heal as you forged deeper connections with those around you who cared for your well-being.

One sunny afternoon, you sat in the park with Lizzie, enjoying a moment of laughter and relaxation. As you and she watched children play nearby, you couldn't help but feel a sense of peace settle within you. The weight of your past no longer felt like a burden but rather a part of your journey that had shaped who you were becoming.

Alaric and Hayley were proud to see your transformation. They knew it hadn't been easy for you to let go of the hope you had clung to for so long, but seeing your smile and laugh again made it all worthwhile.

Meanwhile, in another place far from your new life, the four siblings continued their search for a way to reach out to you. They were unaware of the changes in your heart, still holding onto hope that they would find a way to reunite with you their Hope.

As you looked ahead, you knew that your journey of healing was far from over, but you were grateful for the love and support that surrounded you. you had found a new sense of purpose and happiness, knowing that you had the strength to face whatever challenges lay ahead, armed with the memories of your past and the promise of a bright future.

You have been spending more time with Landon lately, exploring different hobbies and places around town. It felt refreshing to have a friend who understood your desire to move forward and create new memories. One day, as you and him were hanging out at a local cafe, Lizzie and her sister Josie happened to walk in.

Lizzie’s eyes lit up mischievously when she spotted you and Landon sitting together. She nudged Josie gently and whispered, "Look who's here together."

Josie grinned knowingly, joining in on the teasing. "Oh, is this a new friendship we're seeing, Y/N?"

You rolled your eyes playfully, but a hint of a blush crept onto your cheeks. "Oh, come on, guys. We're just hanging out."

Lizzie smirked, leaning against the counter. "Sure, just hanging out. Totally not a date or anything."

Landon chuckled, amused by Lizzie and Josie's teasing. "It's alright, Y/N. I don't mind being seen with you."

You sighed dramatically, but a smile tugged at your lips. "Alright, alright. You caught me. Maybe we're more than just friends."

Lizzie and Josie exchanged satisfied glances, clearly pleased with their playful teasing. "Finally!" Lizzie exclaimed with mock exasperation. "We've been waiting for this moment."

Josie nodded enthusiastically. "You two make a cute pair. It's about time someone brought a smile to Y/N's face."

You couldn't help but laugh at their antics, feeling grateful for their lighthearted teasing that showed they cared. With Landon by your side and friends like Lizzie and Josie to support you, you knew you were on the right path to happiness and healing.

Hayley and Freya sat together in the quiet of the living room, a soft glow from the fireplace casting gentle shadows on the walls. The topic of you and the family weighed heavily on their minds.

Freya spoke first, her voice tinged with concern. "Y/N seems determined to move on, to let go of the hope they’ll return. It's understandable after so long, but it's also heartbreaking."

Hayley nodded slowly, her gaze distant as she stared into the flickering flames. "I know. She's always been strong-willed, just like Klaus. She doesn't want to keep living in a past that may never come back to her."

Freya sighed softly, her thoughts drifting to the siblings who were still searching for a way to reconnect with you. "Klaus and the others haven't given up. They're still trying to find a way to reach her, to let her know they're thinking of her."

Hayley's expression softened with a mix of sadness and understanding. "I wish she could see that. But she's right here, in the present, trying to find her own happiness."

Freya placed a comforting hand on Hayley's shoulder. "She'll find her way, Hayley. We just have to trust that she's strong enough to navigate this on her own terms."

Hayley turned to Freya, gratitude in her eyes. "Thank you, Freya. For being here, for understanding."

Freya smiled gently. "Always, We're family, no matter where life takes us."

As they sat together in the warmth of the shared home, Hayley and Freya found solace in each other's company, knowing that while your journey was your own, you were surrounded by love and support from those who cherished you deeply.

You sat in the quiet library of the Salvatore Boarding School, your fingers running lightly over the spines of the books as you searched for something to read. you finally settled on a book, pulling it from the shelf with a soft rustle. As you did, a photograph slipped out from between the pages, falling gently to the floor.

When you saw the picture, your heart skipped a beat. It was a cherished photo of your family and yourself, all smiling together during a rare moment of peace. you picked it up slowly, your breath catching in your throat as you studied their happy faces.

Tears welled up in your eyes, a mix of longing and sorrow washing over you. you wiped them away hastily, blinking to clear your vision. With a deep breath, you whispered to yourself, "I have to move on."

You held onto the photograph tightly, feeling the weight of its significance in your hands. It was a symbol of love and memories, but also a reminder that life had moved forward, and so must you. You knew you couldn't dwell on the past forever, as much as you missed them.

Taking another steadying breath, you placed the photograph back between the pages of the book and closed it gently. You tucked the book under your arm, carrying it with you as you left the library, determined to embrace the present and build a future that honored the memory of your family while allowing yourself to find happiness anew.

Lizzie and Josie, always attuned to the dynamics around them, continued to tease you and Landon whenever they spotted you and him together around the Salvatore Boarding School. One sunny afternoon, during lunch in the school courtyard, they couldn't resist their playful banter.

Lizzie nudged Josie with a smirk as she spotted you and Landon sitting together at a table, deep in conversation. "Look who's joined us today."

Josie glanced over and grinned mischievously. "Seems like Y/N and Landon are inseparable these days."

You catching the wind of their teasing, as you rolled your eyes playfully but couldn't suppress a smile. "Oh, here we go again with the matchmaking."

Landon chuckled, brushing off the teasing with good humor. "I think they secretly want to know when our next hangout is."

Lizzie laughed, leaning forward with exaggerated interest. "So, when's the next hangout, Y/N? Movie night, perhaps?"

You shook your head, pretending to ponder seriously. "Hmm, maybe I'll let you know... or maybe I'll keep it a secret."

Josie raised an eyebrow teasingly. "Ooh, mysterious. We'll have to keep an eye out for the next rendezvous."

Landon joined in the fun, playing along with their antics. "Maybe we'll need to make it a group outing next time to satisfy everyone's curiosity."

As the four of you shared a laugh, you felt a warmth in your heart. Despite the teasing, you appreciated the light-hearted moments with your friends and the budding friendship with Landon. It was a reminder that moving on didn't mean forgetting your past but embracing the joy of new connections and experiences in your life at the Salvatore Boarding School.

As the days passed, you found yourself enjoying more moments with Landon, whether it was studying together in the library, exploring the school grounds, or simply chatting over meals in the cafeteria. The friendship blossomed naturally, each conversation deepening the understanding of one another.

One evening, after a particularly engaging discussion about favorite books, you and Landon found themselves walking back to the dormitories under the starry sky. The air was crisp, and the silence between you and him was comfortable.

Landon broke the quiet first, his voice soft yet filled with curiosity. "Y/N, can I ask you something?"

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "Of course, what's on your mind?"

Landon hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "I've noticed you've been finding moments of peace lately. How are you feeling about everything?"

You paused, considering Landon’s question. You glanced up at the night sky, the stars twinkling above them. "I think... I think I'm starting to find a balance. It's not easy, but being here, making new memories, it's helping me heal."

Landon nodded thoughtfully, his gaze warm and supportive. "I'm glad to hear that. You deserve to find happiness, Y/N."

as you and him reached the entrance to your dormitory, pausing before saying goodnight. You looked at Landon with gratitude in your eyes. "Thank you for being here, for listening. It means a lot to me."

Landon smiled gently. "Anytime, Y/N. I'm here for you."

As you watched Landon walk away down the corridor, you felt a sense of hope stir within your heart. You knew that while the pain of your past would always be a part of you. You were also capable of building a future filled with friendship, love, and new beginnings. And with friends like Lizzie, Josie, and now Landon by your side, you knew you weren't facing your journey alone.

Klaus and his siblings sat together in their temporary refuge, a small rented house far from the bustling towns. The dim light of the oil lamps cast shadows on the worn walls, and the silence hung heavy around them.

Rebekah traced her fingers over the edge of a worn photograph, the corners dog-eared from years of handling. "Remember when Y/N insisted on baking those disastrous cookies for us?"

Kol chuckled softly, a fond smile tugging at his lips. "Disastrous is an understatement. They were practically inedible."

Elijah's expression softened as he remembered your determined face, covered in flour and determination. "But she was so proud of them. She wouldn't let us forget it, even when we teased her endlessly."

Klaus remained quiet, his gaze fixed on the old family portrait hanging crookedly on the wall. In his mind's eye, he saw yoke laughter, your bright eyes filled with innocence and hope. He recalled your stubbornness, your fiery spirit that mirrored his own.

Suddenly, a series of vivid flashbacks flooded their minds, heir moments with you playing in the fields, your first magical mishap, the day you insisted on joining their sparring sessions. Each memory brought forth a wave of emotions, from laughter to tears.

Rebekah wiped a tear from her cheek, her voice thick with emotion. "She's grown so much, hasn't she? It's been too long since we've seen her."

Kol nodded solemnly, his usual wit subdued by the weight of their separation. "She's probably forgotten about us by now, moved on with her life."

Elijah shook his head gently. "No, she hasn't forgotten. Y/N is resilient, like Klaus. She's finding her own path, and we have to respect that."

Klaus clenched his fists, fighting against the ache in his chest. "We promised her we would always come back. We can't fail her."

Rebekah placed a comforting hand on Klaus's shoulder, her voice steady. "We will find a way, brother. For Y/N, we will find a way."

As they sat together in the quiet of the night, surrounded by memories and the echoes of your laughter, Klaus and his siblings renewed their determination. They would not rest until they found a way to bridge the gap between them and you, no matter the challenges ahead.

The siblings huddled together in the dimly lit room, their minds drifting back further into the past, seeking solace in memories of you.

Flashback from Klaus

you, a young child with tousled hair and a mischievous grin, chased after your father through the sprawling gardens of the family estate. Klaus, always one step ahead, laughed as he glanced back at you.

"You'll have to be faster than that, Y/N!"

You giggled, your voice echoing through the sun-dappled trees. "I'll catch you, daddy! Just you wait!"

Kol and Elijah watched from a distance, smiles tugging at their lips as they witnessed the bond between your father and you

Flashback from Rebekah

You stood proudly beside your aunt Bex, both covered in flour and laughter as you and your aunt attempted to bake cookies for the family. The kitchen was a mess of spilled ingredients and overturned bowls, but your enthusiasm never waned.

"We're going to make the best cookies ever, Auntie Bex!"

Rebekah chuckled, wiping flour from her cheek. "Of course we are, Sweetie. Even if they end up as hockey pucks."

Your cookies did indeed turn out resembling hockey pucks, much to everyone's amusement, but you beamed with pride at your creation.

Flashback from Elijah

Elijah sat with you in the library, patiently teaching you how to read ancient texts and understand the complexities of magic. Your brow furrowed in concentration as you traced your fingers over the intricate runes.

"This one means protection, right Uncle Elijah?"

Elijah nodded approvingly, his heart swelling with pride at your thirst for knowledge and determination to learn.

Flashback from Kol

Kol and you spared in the courtyard, wooden swords clashing as you and your uncle laughed and teased each other. You, determined to prove yourself, parried Kol's attacks with surprising skill.

"Not bad, little one," Kol teased, his eyes sparkling with pride.

You grinned cheekily. "I've been practicing, Uncle Kol. You better watch out!"

The end of the flashbacks

As the siblings reminisced, their hearts were both comforted and pained by the memories of you. Each flashback reminded them of your resilience, your laughter, and the deep love that bound them together as family. Despite the distance and time that separated them, the bond they shared with you remained unbreakable, a testament to the enduring strength of family ties.

Vincent, known for his deep knowledge of magic and its consequences, spoke with a solemn tone that cut through the room like a chill wind. His words echoed with the weight of truth, leaving Hayley, Freya, and Marcel grappling with the harsh reality he presented.

"I understand your longing to see Klaus and the others return," Vincent began, his voice measured yet filled with empathy. "But you must understand, they carry the Hollow within them. Its presence is a barrier that cannot easily be overcome."

Hayley clenched her fists, a mixture of frustration and fear tightening her expression. "Is there truly no way to free them from its grasp? To bring them back to us?"

Vincent shook his head regretfully. "The Hollow's influence runs deep. It has intertwined itself with their essence, shaping their actions and thoughts. To sever that bond... it would require a power greater than any I have seen."

Freya's brow furrowed as she considered Vincent's words. "Surely there must be something we haven't tried. Some ancient ritual or artifact that could weaken its hold."

Marcel, usually calm and collected, paced the room with a furrowed brow. "If they can't return, then what about Y/N? How do we explain this to her?"

Vincent's gaze softened with sympathy. "Y/N is strong, stronger than she knows. She may not understand now, but she will find her own path forward."

Hayley exchanged a glance with Freya, a silent agreement passing between them. "We won't give up," Hayley declared firmly. "We'll keep searching for answers, for any way to bring them back to us."

Freya nodded in solidarity. "And in the meantime, we'll be here for Y/N. To support her, to remind her that she is loved."

Vincent, though somber, offered a faint glimmer of hope. "There are mysteries in this world that even I have yet to unravel. Perhaps, one day, a solution will present itself."

As they faced the daunting challenge ahead, Hayley, Freya, Marcel, and Vincent knew that their journey was far from over. With determination in their hearts and a steadfast commitment to the family, they would continue to search for a way to reunite you with Klaus, Elijah, Kol, and Rebekah, no matter the obstacles they faced.

Caroline and her friends gathered in the cozy living room of her house,however, their conversation turned to someone close to their hearts you

Caroline, sipping on a mug of tea, began with a warm smile. "Have any of you noticed how much Y/N has grown lately? She's really coming into her own."

Bonnie, flipping through a book on the coffee table, nodded in agreement. "Definitely. She's become so independent, handling everything with such maturity."

Matt, lounging on the couch, chimed in thoughtfully. "It's not easy for her, being surrounded by all this supernatural stuff. But she's handling it like a pro."

Caroline leaned forward, her expression turning more serious. "I just worry sometimes. She's been through so much with her family... I hope she knows we're here for her, no matter what."

Stefan, pouring himself a drink, nodded in understanding. "She's had to grow up faster than most. But I think she's finding her own way, carving out her own path."

Elena, sitting beside Damon, spoke up softly. "She's resilient, like her parents. Klaus would be proud of the person she's becoming just like Hayley is.”

Damon, with a smirk, added his own perspective. "I can’t believe she inherited Klaus's temper."

Caroline chuckled, shaking her head. "She's got a bit of both Klaus's determination and Hayley's heart. Quite the combination."

As they continued to discuss about you, their voices filled with admiration and concern, Caroline and her friends reaffirmed their commitment to supporting you through whatever challenges came your way. They knew that you had a strength within you that would see you through, and they were determined to be there for you, no matter what the future held.

As the evening wore on, Caroline and her friends reminisced about their experiences with you, sharing stories that highlighted her courage, kindness, and occasional mischief.

Bonnie recalled a time when you had helped her uncover a particularly tricky spell during a difficult time ,marveling at her intuitive understanding of magic despite your young age. “Y/N has this way of seeing things differently," Bonnie mused, her eyes lighting up with fondness. "She's not afraid to challenge convention and try new approaches. It's refreshing."

Matt nodded in agreement, remembering how you had stood up for him during a confrontation with a supernatural threat. "She's got guts, that's for sure. Not many people her age would face down danger the way she does."

Stefan, reflecting on his conversations with you about family and loss, spoke with empathy. "She carries a lot on her shoulders. But she's also incredibly compassionate. She understands pain in a way that most people her age can't."

Elena, smiling warmly, shared a lighter moment they had shared when you had convinced them to join in on a spontaneous game of capture the flag in the school grounds, bringing a sense of joy and camaraderie to everyone involved.

Damon, ever the cynic but secretly fond of your spirit, chimed in with a smirk. "She's got a knack for getting us into trouble. Reminds me a bit of myself when I was younger."

Caroline laughed, raising her mug in a mock toast. "To Y/N, the girl who keeps us on our toes and reminds us why we do what we do."

As they continued to talk, their voices filled with warmth and admiration for your journey and resilience. They knew that while your path was not without its challenges, you had found a place among them at the Salvatore Boarding School, a place where you were not only accepted but cherished for who you were and who you were becoming.

You and Alaric sat together in his office at the Salvatore Boarding School, surrounded by shelves of books and artifacts from the supernatural world. It was a quiet afternoon, sunlight streaming through the windows as you and him discussed your progress and experiences at the school.

Alaric, always the supportive mentor, leaned back in his chair with a warm smile. "You've been doing exceptionally well, Y/N. Your magical abilities are impressive, and your dedication to your studies is commendable."

Alaric watched with pride as you blossomed, knowing that you had found a place where you belonged, a place where you past and your future could intertwine harmoniously.

And as you stood in the courtyard one sunny afternoon, surrounded by friends and embraced by the warmth of the Salvatore Boarding School, you felt a deep sense of gratitude. You knew that while your journey had been marked by loss and challenges, it had also led you to this moment, a moment filled with hope, possibility, and the promise of a brighter tomorrow.

"I've been practicing this new spell, auntie Freya," you began, your voice filled with enthusiasm. "But I'm having trouble controlling the energy flow. Any tips?"

Freya smiled warmly, her eyes twinkling with wisdom. "Controlling energy flow is all about focus and intent, Y/N. You have to visualize the energy moving through you, guiding it with your will."

You nodded thoughtfully, absorbing Freya's advice. "It's like when you taught me about channeling magic through runes. Precision and clarity."

She nodded in agreement. "Exactly. You have a natural affinity for magic, Y/N. With practice and patience, you'll master even the most challenging spells."

As you and your aunt delved deeper into the magical discussions, Freya couldn't help but admire your determination and innate talent. She saw echoes of Klaus's resilience and Hayley's fierce spirit in the young witch sitting before her, an unmistakable reminder of family and legacy.

"Auntie Freya," you said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you and her. "Do you ever miss Your siblings?"

Freya's expression softened with nostalgia. "Every day," she admitted quietly. "We've been through so much together, and yet... we're scattered across time and space."

You reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Freya's arm. "But you found your way back to each other. That's what matters, right?"

She smiled gratefully, touched by your empathy. "Yes, it is. And seeing you here, embracing your magic and your heritage, it reminds me of the strength that runs in our family."

The bond strengthened in that moment, forged through shared experiences of loss, resilience, and the enduring power of family. As you and she continued the studies and explored the depths of magic together, Freya knew that you had found not only a mentor but also a kindred spirit, a connection that would shape both their paths in the years to come.

As weeks turned into months, your aunt and your bond deepened further. You and her spent countless hours together in Freya's study, pouring over ancient grimoires, practicing intricate spells, and delving into the mysteries of magic that spanned generations.

One evening, after a particularly intense session of spellcasting practice, Freya and you found yourselves sitting the on the rooftop of the mansion, gazing at the stars scattered across the night sky.

"You're making incredible progress, Y/N," Freya remarked, her voice filled with pride. "I can see how much you've grown in your magical abilities."

You smiled gratefully, your eyes reflecting the starlight above. "It's all thanks to your guidance, auntie Freya. I wouldn't have come this far without you."

Freya placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "You have a natural talent for magic, but what sets you apart is your determination and willingness to learn. It reminds me of Klaus, Stubborn and fiercely devoted to mastering his craft."

You chuckled softly. "I've heard stories about him being determination from my mother. She always says that I inherited his determination."

Freya nodded knowingly. "And Hayley's resilience. She faced challenges head-on, just like you."

your aunt and you lapsed into a comfortable silence, the quietude of the night enveloping you and her. you glanced at Freya, a question lingering on your lips.

"Auntie Freya," you began tentatively, "do you ever think about finding a way to bring your siblings back together? To reunite your family?"

Freya's gaze turned wistful, her thoughts drifting to the siblings scattered across time and dimensions. "I do," she admitted softly. "It's a dream I hold onto, even though the challenges are immense. But seeing you here, thriving and embracing your heritage, gives me hope."

You squeezed her hand gently. “You’ll find a way,.”

Hayley found you in your room, sitting by the window with a distant look in your eyes. The room was bathed in the soft glow of twilight, casting long shadows across the floor.

"Y/N," she said gently, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her. "Can we talk?"

You turned to face your mother, your expression guarded yet tinged with sadness. "I'm not sure there's much to talk about, Mom," you replied quietly. "I've already accepted that they're not coming back."

Hayley approached you slowly, sitting beside her on the edge of the bed. "I understand how you feel," she began, her voice soft yet steady. "Losing hope is a natural part of grieving. But I want you to know that it's okay to feel this way."

You nodded, your gaze fixed on a distant point outside the window. "It's just... hard, Mom. I thought I had moved on, but sometimes it feels like they're still here, just out of reach."

She placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "They're always with us, Y/N. In our memories, in our hearts. But it's okay to take the time you need to heal."

You swallowed hard, fighting back tears that threatened to spill over. "I miss them," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I miss them so much."

She pulled you into a gentle embrace, holding you her daughter close as the two of you shared a moment of quiet sorrow. "I miss them too," Hayley murmured against your hair. "Every day."

You and your mother sat together in silence, the weight of the grief and longing filling the room. Hayley knew that there were no easy answers, no quick fixes for the pain you and her both felt. But she also knew that the two of you would face it together, as a family bound by love and strength.

"You don't have to hold onto hope right now, Y/N," she said softly, brushing a tear from her your cheek. "Just know that I'm here for you, no matter what."

You nodded, finding solace in your mother's words and the warmth of her embrace. In that moment, amidst the ache of loss and the gentle comfort of your mother’s love, you felt a flicker of hope, a tiny spark that reminded you. you were not alone in your grief.

The four Mikaelson siblings, buoyed by the spell's effects, found themselves inexplicably joyful and united. They gathered in their ancestral home, exchanging stories and laughter that had long been absent from their lives.

Klaus, his voice laced with rare vulnerability, spoke of dreams where the family was whole again, where the past grievances were forgiven in the light of the shared future. "I can feel it, brothers and sister," he declared, his gaze lingering on each of them with a mixture of hope and determination. "We are on the cusp of something extraordinary."

Kol, usually quick-witted and sarcastic, found himself drawn into Klaus's vision, his skepticism tempered by a newfound sense of optimism. "Perhaps you're onto something for once, Nik," he quipped, a genuine smile breaking through his usual façade. "Who knew we'd find ourselves here, plotting a reunion instead of tearing each other apart?"

Elijah, ever the diplomat, nodded in agreement, his tone measured but filled with a quiet resolve. "We have been given a chance, siblings," he said, his voice resonating with the weight of their collective history. "A chance to heal old wounds and forge a new path together."

Rebekah, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, spoke softly, her words tinged with a longing that had long been buried beneath layers of defiance and resilience. "I've missed this," she admitted, her voice catching slightly. "The four of us, together, as we were meant to be."

As the days passed and their bond seemed to strengthen, subtle changes began to manifest, a small flickers of darkness in their thoughts, moments of inexplicable anger or paranoia that they brushed aside as remnants of their tumultuous past.

The Hollow, cunning and patient, observed with satisfaction as its hold over the Mikaelsons grew stronger. It fed off their emotions, amplifying their desires and fears with each passing day, weaving its dark magic into the very fabric of their beings.

And as they continued to revel in the illusion of their happiness, unaware of the Hollow's insidious presence, the siblings remained oblivious to the looming threat that would soon test their resolve, their unity, and their very identities in ways they could never have foreseen.

In the midst of their shared optimism and renewed hope, the Mikaelson siblings found their happiness anchored by the prospect of reuniting with you. For the siblings the thought of seeing you was a beacon of light amidst the shadows of their past.

Klaus, his voice tinged with anticipation, spoke fervently of the day when they would embrace you once more. "She's the key to our future," he proclaimed, his eyes alight with determination. "With her by our side, nothing can stand in our way."

Kol, ever the pragmatist despite his newfound optimism, nodded in agreement. "It's been too long since we've all been together," he mused, a rare softness in his tone. "She'll be thrilled to see how we've managed to keep the family alive."

Elijah, his demeanor composed yet brimming with emotion, spoke of reconciliation and redemption. "Y/N deserves to know that we have not forgotten her," he stated firmly, his gaze unwavering. "We owe her that much."

Rebekah, her voice betraying a mixture of longing and relief, added softly, "She's the heart and the hope of our family. Seeing her again will make everything feel whole."

Unbeknownst to them, however, the Hollow's presence within each of them amplified their anticipation and joy, weaving its dark magic into their desires and hopes for a brighter future with you. It masked its malevolent intentions beneath the facade of the reunion, feeding off their emotions and fueling their determination to see the family restored.

As Freya and Hayley made their way through the busy streets of New Orleans, they suddenly spotted Klaus and his siblings huddled together, deep in conversation.

Hayley walked over to them, her curiosity piqued. "What are you guys doing here?" she asked, trying to keep her voice casual.

Klaus turned to her, a slight smile on his face. "We found a way to be near each other and to be near my little Wolf," he said, his voice filled with satisfaction.

Freya and Hayley exchanged a glance, Klaus and the other sensing that something was off.

"Y/n lost hope on ever seeing you guys," Freya said, her voice serious.

Klaus and his siblings scoffed, refusing to believe it. "Impossible," Klaus said dismissively. "She's a Mikaelson. We never lose hope."

Hayley stepped forward, her expression determined. "It's true," she said, her voice firm. "Y/n is just like you, Klaus. Stubborn, and unwilling to listen to anyone."

"That sounds like our little wolf," Klaus replied with a proud grin. "But I promise you, we'll find a way to reach her. Family always finds a way."

Freya nodded in agreement, her gaze focused. "We need to be cautious though," she warned. "Y/n has been through a lot. you guys can't just appear out of nowhere."

Klaus sighed, understanding the gravity of the situation. "You're right, Freya. We have to approach this carefully."

Kol looked at Klaus with a mix of concern and hope. "Do you have a plan?"

Klaus nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, I do. But it will take time and patience."

Eljih placed a reassuring hand on Klaus’s shoulder. "We'll figure this out together," he said softly.

As they stood there, united by their determination to reunite with you, they knew that their journey was just beginning.

Klaus raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes matching Hayley's tone. "Ah, my dear Hayley, are you suggesting that my five minutes of participation were the most crucial and impactful?"

Hayley smirked, nudging Klaus gently with her elbow. "Maybe I'm just jealous that you get all the credit for the Mikaelson charm and wit."

Freya chuckled softly, enjoying the banter between them. "Let's not forget the stubbornness. She definitely got that from you brother.”

Klaus nodded thoughtfully. "Indeed, she did inherit the best."

Freya grinned, feeling the warmth of their familial bond. "Regardless of who she takes after more, she's lucky to have both of you."

As they continued to talk and tease each other, their love for you and their shared journey as parents brought them closer together, united in their commitment to give you the best of themselves.

Hayley took a deep breath, looking at the siblings with a mix of affection and amusement. "You know, she's got your temper, Klaus as well.” she said with a grin. "And she loves getting into trouble, just like you."

Klaus raised an eyebrow, a proud smirk spreading across his face. "Ah, she truly is a Mikaelson through and through," he remarked, his voice tinged with both pride and mischief.

Hayley chuckled softly, nodding in agreement. "She definitely knows how to keep us on our toes."

Elijah nodded, a fond smile playing on his lips. "But despite all that, she's also got a heart of gold. Just like both of you."

As they shared this moment of recognition and acceptance of your traits, they couldn't help but feel grateful for the unique blend of characteristics you had inherited from each of them. It was moments like these that reminded them of the joy and challenges of parenthood, and the deep bond they shared as a family.

Hayley leaned in closer, her expression softening with affectionate pride. "You should see her, Klaus, when she stands up for what she believes in. She's fierce, just like you. And when she smiles, it's like the sun coming out after a storm."

Klaus listened intently, a warmth spreading through him at Hayley's words. "I've missed so much," he admitted quietly. "But I'm grateful for every moment I get to share with her now."

Freya watched them both, her own heart swelling with love for you. "She adores you both," she said gently. "Even when she's testing your patience."

Hayley chuckled, a hint of nostalgia in her voice. "Remember the time she insisted on exploring that abandoned house? She said she could sense something magical inside."

Klaus grinned, shaking his head fondly. "How could I forget? She has an insatiable curiosity, much like someone else I know."

As they reminisced about your adventures and quirks, their laughter filled the air, weaving a tapestry of shared memories and hopes for the future. In that moment, they were not just parents, aunts and uncles but a united front, determined to guide and cherish their spirited daughter through life's twists and turns.

Hayley and the siblings sat in the living room, the atmosphere heavy with contemplation. Klaus's gaze was fixed on a photo of you on the mantle, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"I can't believe how much she's grown," Klaus murmured, more to himself than to the others. "She's becoming quite the young woman."

Hayley nodded, a bittersweet smile on her lips. "She's got your determination, Klaus," she remarked softly.”And Freya's curiosity."

Rebekah leaned forward, her eyes distant as she thought about you. "Y/n has been through so much," she said quietly. "I just hope she knows how much we care about her."

Klaus sighed, his gaze still fixed on the photo. "The fucking hollow fucked us over," he admitted, his voice tinged with remorse. "But I want to make things right."

Kol reached over, placing a comforting hand on Klaus's arm. "We all do," he said firmly. "Y/n needs to know that we're here for her, no matter what."

As they sat together, discussing you and the hopes for the future, they knew that the road ahead wouldn't be easy. But they were determined to show you that you were loved, valued, and an integral part of their family, ready to support you as you navigated the challenges of growing up.

As they wrapped up their discussion about you, Hayley and Freya set four more additional places at the dinner table. Each plate was carefully arranged, a symbol of the readiness to welcome someone special into their circle once more.

You arrived home from hanging out with your friends, dropping your shoes by the door and making your way to the kitchen, where you discovered the unexpected sight of four extra places set at the table. Confusion flickered across your face as you turned to, your mother, and your aunt Freya.

"Who's joining us for dinner?" You asked, your curiosity piqued.

Klaus smiled warmly at you, his eyes filled with affection. "Us, little wolf," he said gently, his voice carrying a hint of reassurance and longing.

[traumasurvivors]

Getting hate comes with having a big blog even if you don’t deserve it. If you can’t handle it then maybe blogging isn’t for you

I’m not exaggerating when I say I wake up to hate in my inbox on this blog and my BPD one every day. I don’t post it because no good would come from it. But it’s there. I see it.

Most days I also get aggression and hate on my posts multiple times a day. Mostly on my BPD blog but this one gets some comments too. Some of them are absolutely awful ones and I block them quickly so they don’t trigger others. It gets exhausting. But I cope. I block and move on.

Yesterday was one day that I was having a bad day and felt a bit upset about it. Having days where stuff is harder than usual is normal and does not mean that blogging isn’t for me. I think you’ll find in most things, even hobbies and stuff like that, some days it just isn’t working for you. It doesn’t mean it isn’t working as a whole.

I’m answering this because I think it’s a good lesson for anyone honestly. It’s okay if you have days that you struggle more than others. It’s normal.

[museofthepyre]

do you know what everyones problem with elijah is? Im new to to fandom and im so genuinly confused as to why people seem to like think elijah is the worst (as in evil) character in the series. like i dont think people find him poorly written, they just, dont like him? which is fine yknow like who you like, but then people act like jedediah is a flawed but good character? which confused me a lot since I actually dislike jedediah more, as he just hurts in a more personal way it feels like. Elijah was sweeping Sydney in with promises of love that he hadnt gotten from jedediah, sydney only accepted that because of the way jedediah had been shunning him for years. It really bothers me that people forgive jedediah for his bad behavior, but then crucify elijah for behavior that while yes was very bad, had been hurting syndey way less for way shorter, and the only reason sydney was that vulnerable was because of jedidiah. Im asking because i am genuinly confused and I cant find anyone talking about the why of disliking elijah, i dont know if im missing something because of personal bias (jedidiahs mistakes that hurt sydney hit much closer to home than elijahs) sorry if this is a bit rambly, Im just very disenheartened to see so many people say they hate elijah when I just dont understand why, you dont need to answer this ask btw its mainly just curiousity

I think you kind of touched on the answer a bit already- imo it definitely comes down to what hits closer to home for any given listener. We all have unconscious biases. We all consume media through the lens of our own life experiences, and… ok ramble incoming

Elijah and Jedidiah both think/ behave in ways that are profoundly human, they represent very real concepts (see my whole Jedidiah= unhealthily distant, withdrawn and cold attachment style, and Elijah= unhealthily obsessive, suffocating and intense attachment style rant). These aren’t your typical innately evil villains, they’re just unhealthy people with warped ideas of love. That is an all too common thing to see irl. I think because of that… many of us can relate one or both of them to people we‘ve known in our own lives… alternatively, we can relate them to ourselves. I’ve heard some people say that Elijah’s actions hit a nerve because of past traumas with toxic relationships… aaand I’ve heard people say the exact same thing about Jedidiah! I think Elijah receives more scrutiny because his actions were… well they were actions. Visible, overt, right in front of you. You can point at them, pick a line from the transcript and say “that right there is bad”. Jedidiah’s wrongs often came in the form of neglect and abandonment, an absence of action, that’s so much harder to pinpoint. Maybe he’s slipping under people’s radars? Maybe more people see themselves in him and have a sense of understanding (which is valid, he embodies some very relatable neurodivergent struggles). Maybe it’s because he steps up and works on himself by the end and we don’t see that from Elijah (yet). Maybe people find Elijah “worse” because he reminds them of a more common negative experience, I’m not sure. One could speculate.

I’ll speak personally as an example of what I mean: I am wayyyyyyy more upset by Jedidiah’s actions. And that’s because of… you guessed it… my own personal experiences and how they influence my perception 🎉🎉🎉 I’ve got BPD, and I have an all consuming fear of abandonment. The idea of loving somebody and then having them suddenly withdraw, avoid you, and treat you coldly all the while providing NO EXPLAINATION WHATSOEVER… just leaving you to spiral and pick apart your own behaviours under a microscope, thinking you must be the problem— it’s a major trigger of mine. I’ve lived it!!! I grew up with it!!!!! It hits a huge sore spot for me and I admittedly struggle to overlook that sometimes when I see him.

Conversely, Elijah… I unfortunately connect with in a much deeper way. My own default attachment style is obsessive, intense, and often leaves me tunnel-visioned and unstable (…BPD), and he speaks a language I understand? If that makes sense. I see so much untreated, pre-awareness me in him. I know what it is to be involuntarily engulfed by an all-consuming obsession/ delusion. He doesn’t scare me, because I know what he’s made of- I see what’s beneath it all when I look in the mirror. Or at least that’s the lens through which I interpret him, I’m sure many disagree and yk what? Absolutely valid!!!!

There’s no one correct way to consume media, yada yada you get the idea, CHNT is unique because no character is intentionally malicious or evil (not counting Adam maybe… Lucille you’re on thin ice) and it’s fascinating how there’s such a dichotomy between the love and hate for these two. I may have swayed a bit off topic I just have many thoughts. I might come back with more later.

Ok rant over 🪱

[stellasworks]

Yearning.

Bi-Han x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, arranged marriage, Bi-Han being mean :(, character death, arguing, possible triggers for anyone with an ED (mentions of malnourishment).

A/N: I’m so sorry if this doesn’t really make a lot of sense, I will admit it’s been sooo long since I’ve written a genuine x reader fic. But I hope to improve in the future. 🫶🏻

Being the wife of a cold-hearted grandmaster was not ideal.

Often he would come home, pay you no mind, eat, then go to bed. It’s a very common occurrence, one that you loathed.

But yet.

You loved him.

You don’t know what it was about him, maybe it was his determination, or his stoic nature, maybe it was just how handsome he is. You never knew.

You two didn’t sleep in the same room. You, unfortunately, remember the talk you two had about it like it was yesterday.

Your clan had arranged for you to marry Bi-Han due to the clan lacking status and respect, so they made an agreement with the Lin Kuei. You’d marry the eldest brother, Bi-Han, who’d soon be the grandmaster because of the recent grandmaster, their fathers death in order to not only gain respect but to gain the strength of the Lin Kuei being in their corner.

Having fully moved in to the Lin Kuei temple, you had wondered about your room. So you thought to ask Bi-Han.

You found him training his members, you had stopped to watch him train them for a bit before calling out to him. He stopped the session and walked over to you.

“What do you need, I’m in the middle of something.” He said coldly

It caught you off guard at first, his rude tone, but you left it be. “I was wondering about where I’d be sleeping, considering there are so many rooms I can only assume I’m sleeping with you in your room-“ He cut you off, scoffing in annoyance.

“No. You’ll have your own room.” He said, you looked at him in disbelief.

“My own room..? But we are married are we not? We should at least sleep in the same bed Bi-Han.”

“Grandmaster.”

Your brow furrowed “Excuse me?” You asked.

“You are to call me Grandmaster, not by my name. You’ve not earned the respect to call me by such familiarities.” He said, finding no remorse for being so rude.

“You are more concerned with me calling you by your professional title than where your wife is sleeping at night..?” You asked.

He scoffed once more and shook his head slightly almost as if he was speaking to a child he was disappointed in. “In the public eye, you are my wife, but here? You are nothing more than another occupant living in this temple. Our relationship is strictly business related. Nothing more, do not think of it as anything else.”

You went silent, you’ve never met someone so cruel.

“My mistake.” You said in a snippy tone. You attempted to walk away before he grabbed your wrist, you didn’t turn to face him you just listened.

“You will treat me with respect.” He said demandingly

“Then you will earn it.” You replied. You then walked away, you didn’t speak to him for the rest of that day.

You had come down from your room, having just woke up, and as soon as you arrived downstairs you spotted Bi-Han and his brothers Kuai Liang and Tomas, getting prepared for something. You had walked over to the brothers and asked what was going on. Bi-Han didn’t even look at you before Kuai Liang spoke.

“We have received orders from Liu Kang, we are preparing to head to Outworld to help find Shang Tsung. We will be gone for a while.” He said.

You became increasingly upset but kept a level head.

“Why was I not told about this beforehand?” You asked, more so directed towards Bi-Han.

“Because it does not concern you.” Bi-Han spoke.

“It most definitely concerns me! You are my husband, and whether you like to acknowledge it or not I love you and I care for your brothers! I should be told important thing like this! What if something happens to one of you and I didn’t know?” You asked getting exceedingly frustrated.

Kuai Liang knew where this was about to go, so he took Tomas and left the room.

“There is no one to blame but yourself for loving me, you are well aware I do not feel the same, so do not think you can raise your voice at me just because we are married. The sole purpose of our relationship is business. Nothing else. You cannot possibly be so naive as to-“ You cut him off from his tangent

“I am not naive! I am not a child so stop treating me as such! I refuse to believe that you are genuinely this cold and mean and ruthless all because you are grandmaster and you have a certain reputation to keep up!” You raised your voice at him once more watching him freeze in disbelief, not in disbelief that you were speaking to him like this but in disbelief that you were finally expressing your true feelings to him.

“You cannot possibly tell me you do not feel an ounce of love for me! I refuse to believe it!” You said.

“If you truly do not feel anything for me I want you to say it. Say it and I will leave you be, I won’t speak to you, I won’t bother you anymore. I will relieve you of the burden that is my presence.” You said, hoping that something would change in his heart to make him realize that he loved you.

oh.. how naive.

He walked up to you. Look you dead in your eyes.

“I feel nothing for you. You are nothing to me but an inconvenience. I did your clan a favor, and yet somehow I am met with the biggest burden of it all.” He said.

You looked down from him and stood there for a moment, you felt your heart break and felt tears streaming down your face, yet no crying was heard. You’ve reached your breaking point.

“Apologies.”

You turned and headed up stairs back to your room. Soon after Bi-Han left with his brothers.

You laid in your bed and cried, soon after falling asleep.

You woke up feeling ill. You had a fever, and you felt your heart racing. You attempted to walk out of your room, to the medic of the Lin Kuei.

You got half way down the hall but soon collapsed on the floor. You felt weak. You yelled out for help, soon after two Lin Kuei members found you and helped you to the medics office. Once you arrived, the medic saw how pale and sweaty you were almost as if you had seen a ghost. He acted quickly and did all that he could. This illness was difficult to identify, it would take weeks for him to properly detect was it was. Little did he know,

You didn’t have much time left.

The brothers had soon returned days later. Usually, when you were told about their missions, you’d quickly come downstairs to greet the brothers. But you were no where to be seen. This filled Bi-Han with a feeling of dread. But why? He did not love you, He didn’t even care for you so why was he feeling this anxious?

He was soon given a reason

The medic that had been treating you broke the news to Bi-Han and urged him to come quickly.

And there you were.

Your breathing was slowed, you were malnourished due to being unable to keep any food down. You were pale and looked visibly frail. He quickly kneeled by your side almost panicking, shakily grabbing your hand in both of his and holding it up to his forehead.

“What happened?!” Bi-Han raised his voice at the medic.

The medic explained that you were sick, and he’s doing his best to keep you alive but Bi-Han cut him off.

“Your best is clearly not enough!” He said, feeling himself getting choked up for the first time in years.

“I want the best doctor you can find in Earthrealm, I do not care who it is just get me them now.” He said to the medic, in order for him to reiterate the request to the others.

Bi-Han looked back at you, feeling tears fall down his face. He felt your hand moved gripping his own.

“Grandmaster?” You said in a raspy voice, almost above a whisper. Looking at him in a confused manner, why was he so worried about you all of the sudden?

“Y/n..” he looked at you with kind eyes yet scared eyes.

“What- what are you doing..?” She asks.

“The doctor told me you are unwell. When did this start?” He asked softly. This was not the Bi-Han you knew. This was someone completely different. Is this who he is capable of being?

“The day.. after you left.” You rasped out.

His breath hitched.

Was he responsible for this? For your weak state?

“I am sorry y/n.. I’ve been cruel to you. It’s always been uncalled for, you’ve only ever tried to show me who you are and how kind you can be. You’ve only ever meant well, and I pushed you away, I was.. afraid to admit my love for you, afraid to be vulnerable.” He said.

“Please, let me stay with you. Allow me to make up for my wrong doings however I can.” He begged.

You stared at him, then looked away from him ripping your hand away from his.

“No.” You said

“Y/n.. please-“

“No. You only notice my worth now that I’m weak and feeble? You notice my value now that I’m dying? You choose now to realize your love for me..?” You asked him.

“You made your choice. You said what you said and you cannot take that back. Just because you feel guilty now that I’m in this state, just because you feel liable for this, suddenly having a change of heart does not shift how you’ve treated me over the years. I’ve done nothing but beg for you to love me as I love you, I guess I truly am naive.” You laid your head down just wanting to rest for now.

He took this into consideration and left you be to rest.

Later that night he checked in on you, he approached the medics office where you had been resting. He knocked on the door, but there was no answer. He knocked once more, no answer. He finally entered, sensing something was wrong. He saw you laying on the bed but something wasn’t right.

You weren’t breathing.

He ran to your side, and yelled asking for the medic.

The medic tried everything he could to revive you but it was no use. Bi-Han dropped to your side cradling your body in his arms as he angrily sobbed into your neck, he loved you. He loved you so much.

But that realization came far too late.

[fangsforiris]

Hihi!! I say ur ask box was open (srry if I’m wrong) and I wanted to see if you could maybe do how Shuu, Ayato, Kanato, and Reiji would react to falling deeply in love with someone who is incredibly self sacrificial? I’m sorry if I didn’t do this right, it’s my first time submitting an ask so I’m a bit nervous. Have a good rest of ur day/evening!! ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

—————————

Sakamaki’s Reaction to S/O Who’s Self-Sacrificial

Shū:

“Don’t act like that, please… I’ve already lost so much, I dont’t know if I can possibly handle another… Just stay with me…”

• This would hit Shū the hardest by far. Considering how he’s already lost a lot (ex: Edgar,) he wouldn’t want to lose another thing precious to him.

• It’s like a cycle to him which he so desperately wants to get out of.

• This would either make or break him, since he’s emotionally repressed himself for years, or even centuries, just to save himself the fear of once again not being enough to save anyone else he cherishes.

• Falling in love was never his expectation nor was he looking for it. For it to happen so suddenly, and to someone that happens to be the same sacrificing trope like a certain someone, it’ll definitely throw him for a loop.

Reiji:

“You mustn’t let yourself succumb to such acts. I am a vampire, your sacrifice will be in vain. You mean more to me alive… more than you’ll ever know.”

• Reiji wouldn’t want to deal with someone self-sacrificial, really. As in, it would really have him at a loss for words at times.

• In the sense that, when seeing them, he doesn’t want to be reminded of how naive and ‘over the top’ he was in his own past.

• He 100% wouldn’t want to see his S/O attempt anything he may deem foolish (that is, attempting to sacrifice themselves at any given moment.)

• He’d find the sentiment a bit shocking, especially with his past of rejection. For someone to now want to do certain things for him, in the name of him, all for him… it doesn’t seem real. It doesn’t feel as if he deserves it.

Ayato:

“Oi! Don’t go doing anything stupid! Your place is beside me, not 6 feet under me…! Stupid…”

• Ayato doesn’t usually fall for people other than by their looks.

• So for him to now suddenly get an emotional connection to someone who’s so helpless devoted to him, it’s as if he’s the only one in the world that matters.

• He’d find the sentiment cute, in the sense that someone is willing to do anything and everything for him— the great ‘ore-sama.’ However, if someone is his, he has no intention on letting them go.

• I feel as though he doesn’t believe as much in the ideology that ‘vampires kill for love/killing is the ultimate act of love’ as much as other characters may (Ahem, Laito.) So this would hurt him more if anything, since he did canonically feel a bit of guilt killing Cordelia, as well.

Kanato:

“You will stop this silly attempt of yours to end your life! Why do you want to leave me and Teddy alone, huh!? Am I not worth it…?”

• Kanato would be deeply upset. As in, I think he’d show the largest outward reaction to both himself, his brothers, and you. 

• He canonically has high abandonment issues, so to have someone with a high tendency to resort to self-sacrificing methods, it would set him off. Almost as if it’s a trigger.

• He would most likely place it around himself, using terms like ‘why are you leaving me, why do they always do this to me, why me?!’ That sort of thing.

• Kanato would do a lot to stop this. You’re his toy, and he doesn’t exactly play with broken dolls— as stated by him. For an immortal being, he wouldn’t want to be left alone and would do whatever it takes (even if it’s unhealthy,) to rid their S/O of the mindset.

Authors Note: You’re all good!! Thank you for the ask, hope you enjoyed !!