#even lied to him and didnt say i was looking for this one until i found it

[aldisobey]

Lichfic 🌚🌚🌚🌚

hehehhehehhe you know I can't say no to you. (@by-ilmater @crowofstarlight same fic ya asked about! I'll answer last a tidbit later.)

But since lichfic is taking me way too long to release I want to show off my 'theory' or no 'direction' you helped me with. Or at least the way I'm taking it. Thanks for pointing out shapes when I had to throw spaghetti at a wall.

The Lich Lords DIDNT MAKE SENSE to me. This is part of my attempt to figure out these lich bitches—Emmrich included—and how they could work in Thedas? Keep it true to some form? This is Worne's epilogue.

Because when I finished Veilguard my gut was twisting. Rook is still going to die. Emmlich is going to live forever. How to solve mourning forever? How to solve LICH LORDS even letting that happen? Don't the other Lords see that? Don't they know?! They call Rook "Volkarin's Beloved" at the ritual? They're fully aware. So why let it happen? Knowing the tragedy and pain that await?

What if it's necessary

Emmrich dropped the letter. It sounded wet when it landed. And like a whip-quick gale through a small-leafed tree—thick and full—the bones of his body shushed.

"No..." and his voice dropped low like stone.

"It..." his fingers fumbled—a moan timbre climbing higher—his voice echoed in the room.

"He!" The first Lich Lord he knew. The one he... found? Found him? The one that taught. The one that guided. The others met only in ceremony. He only really knew—the eldest. They had met alone when... the choice... and something like a groan left him. A sound akin to glacier—ice cracking taking inch verse stone.

But the noise didn't stop. Didn't stop. The truth read. The letter left. This.

Lich Lord Volkarin,

Firstly. Condolences. On the loss of your Beloved and your name. Please cease reading should your name appear in this letter. It is one of the first things we lose after the tether's departure. After our Beloved's death. The Necropolis takes it. There is no prevention.

You are free of all duties until your Beloved's death. I suggest you bring them here.

DO NOT TRAVEL.

You are free to do as you please—as you must—but do come visit me it is a thing to be shown.

If you read now your name, Emmrich Volkarin—do yourself a kindness and fold this letter. Tuck it away. Live a full happy life with your Beloved.

HERE.

Read on after your second death. Nothing will be between the lines.

—Emmrich Volkarin—

And here the trembling lich had to unfolded.

It is my deepest regret to inform you, that I have mislead you—in part. Everything we have spoken of is true. We are desperately needed here. At least three. There is not much work to be done so long as we remain. But remain we must. This much you knew.

But there is worse.

I am tired, young Lich Lord, I do not know my age, I do not know the current age. What need have I for that? It passes. But I am tired of trying to remember. I am tired of trying to work. The only memory that matters is her. I study more how she looked. I could tell you, the hairs on her head, the number of them at the hour the minute. The length, the cut, the braid. But I could not tell you if today is in summer or winter.

The stars move Volkarin. And seasons as well.

I can tell you she was born in our summer. And hated heat, but loved taking everything. Nothing was enough. And she smelled of saffron, dry wood, and sage. Young Lich Lord I study every memory of every day. I hope you and he remained. We traveled so, and lived in sun. And still and I cannot leave, I. I am tired of it. I would like to rest with her—in flame.

I intend to 'retire' sometime after your Beloved passes. There will be some centuries of training and guidance. But soon young Lich Lord. Soon I will need you to watch and guard and keep the other two bound here.

You see they have gone quite mad. Or started that way.

They never had a strong tether such as you, such as I. They tried other methods. I tried other methods with them, guiding, helping. I did not want another to live... live as I. It is all too much now and you may not forgive me that is your due. But I am tired young lich lord and the Necropolis would fail should I depart without true heir.

Do not trust the other two. One never loved. Only took. Ensared and brought in a tether to hold him in place. I might explain why a soulmate is necessary later, but anything around her is difficult for me.

But one took and the other gave all, or thought they did in obsession. They received naught. Received condemnation, a spurned attention a wicked fascination—not love. I was willing to try anything, Lich Lord, but pieces were missing.

Their tethers did not know them whole.

Some of what their tethers believed stayed with them. Coated the souls hue during ritual. Not for the better. They are a success for base Necropolis demands, but ultimately my failures.

You are what the Necropolis needs.

Young Lich Lord I write this after your ascension and I name you successor. We watched. He paced, he shook, he stood, and all that time never... he is a soulmate tether. Beloved said then and true.

I will bear your curses. We were the same once. When you exist to my time... we both know what's at stake Lich Lord. This is the service. This is the cost. A watch made in mourning.

There was no signature. Simply an end.

Dread.

[codecicle-archive]

IM GIVING YOU BASICALLY NOTHING FUCKKKKK YOU

From 1:15:08. Go fuck yourself im built too different

[bluehourbucky]

Lunch boxes

pairing: newavenger!bucky x reader

summary: you make lunch for new avengers John almost loses his life

a/n : just a silly drabble been thinking about it for days

bucky masterlist

Bucky never knew softness until he met you. You are the epitome of softness, you think of others first and then yourself. He loves that about you its sweet but he never let's it go too far.

He knows one day he'll marry you, buy you a house in the country side all those domestic things he dreamed of. He just needs a bit more time. Bucky sees the way you look at him, with love and absolute certainty that he's your future.

There's nothing he wouldn't do for you, not when he meets your doe eyes full of hopes and dreams. And he can't wait to make them all reality.

One thing about you is that you show your love through food, lots of it, he gained a few since you two started dating. Bucky didn't even know he loved food this much ( maybe he doesn't and its only to please you but the line blurred long ago when he realised that love is you and everything you do and make).

He never intended for you to meet the other new avengers, but they somehow found their way into your shared home. You welcomed them with open arms and heart. And you charmed them from the fist second. He knew you would, all you have to do is smile and you have people falling over left and right.

They weren't used to kindness and you had so much to give and you gave it freely in abundance.

Last night was rough for them and they all needed somewhere to recharge for the hard day ahead, so what did they do? They came to a little sanctuary, that is yours and Buckys apartment.

Even if Bucky hadn't called ahead you had opened the door in the middle of the night, you didn't even seem upset that they woke you up or that he brought five more people with him.

You jumped into his arms like it didn't matter that he was all dirty and sweaty and bloody, and to you it didn't.

Your small apartment was looking even tinier with the six avengers in the living room/kitchen.

"Welcome back! I'm sorry I didnt know you were coming you must be hungry! Ah I didnt prepare anything! I'm sure we have something around here!"

Bucky told you not to fuss about it, they'll order something for tonight and be out early in the morning. It took a lot of convincing and stolen distraction kisses to make you drop it.

"Jamie it's not nice! They're guests, your work family!" He smiles and pulls you into a hug and kisses your forehead.

"You can cook some other time come on back to bed." Bucky ushered you to your room and laughed when he noticed your frown. He took a quick shower and then gave the rest of them towels and told them to figure it out how to sleep on one pull out bed. He didn't care enough he just wanted his girl.

"Good night, doll." Bucky says as he pulls you into his chest and kisses your neck. He feels you smile.

"Night Jamie."

In the morning Bucky can smell food? Its all kinds of food. He gets up and opens the bedroom door. Four figures stand behind the kitchen counter and watch you.

John is sitting on the pull out sofa, his eyes closed.

"Damn Soldier Barnes! Your wife is so talented! Look how she cooks!" Alexei says pointing at you stiring the pot and shaking the pan at the same time. You turn and your cheeks are flushed, both from the stove and the way Alexei called you Buckys wife.

"Morning love!" you look at him sheepishly, like you're caught doing a crime.

"She won't tell us what she's doing but this looks dangerous? No?" Yelena says..

"I'll be done soon I promise."

Bucky fondly laughs and walks over to you to give you a morning kiss but before he can do that an alarm sounds from your phone.

"Ah get that out of the oven! Thanks honey."

Bucky does as he's told and pulls out a huge tray of pastries out of the oven with his metal arm.

"Are we feeding an army?"

"Yes Bucky look how many of you and no one should work on an empty stomach."

Before he can say something you shush him and peck his lips.

"Okay now everything's done!"

And there on the counter six paper bags, each one has a name written on it, with a little doodle each different than the other.

Buckys heart grows and aches in ways he can't quite understand. You did all of this for him, for them, the people who have done horrible things, are doing horrible things.

First one to grab a bag is Alexei who then gives you a bear hug and lifts you off of the floor.

"Ah you are amazing woman! If Soldier doesn't treat you right he will have problem with me! I am very grateful!" You laugh and hug him back.

Ava just nodds and takes the bag, but in her eyes you see softness and thankfulness.

Yelena takes hers and says "Ah my favorite! Thank you! You are the best! I can't promise I won't come back for another round."

"You're always welcome" you reply and give her a hug.

"Thank you, miss. I appreciate your effort it is very kind for you to give us this food!" Bob says and stands at the door with the others.

John's the last one but he only stands up and goes to the door.

"Wait I made you one too!"

"Im not taking a children's lunch box I'll just buy something out."

The silence that came is deafening, you could hear a pin drop. Your eyes well up in tears.

And then Bucky grabs John by the throat, Yelena pulls her guns and points them at John, Ava teleports next to John and hits him and Alexi says

"I kill him now."

"Im sorry I'm sorry Im sorry I swear I didnt mean it." John starts to beg the avengers for mercy...

"Not to us stupid."

Bucky drops him to the ground and then John crawls to your feet and starts begging.

"Its fine I forgive you." you say kind of terrified and touched that they all care so much.

"You live another day, next time you make my girl cry I will kill you and then cut you into pieces and then I will burn those pieces."

John only nods and runs out the door.

Buckys eyes immediately soften as he walks over to you and grabs the last bag, it says love of my life and there's like a dozen hearts drawn. His hear melts.

"Thank you baby. I love you and I already miss you." you giggle at the hundreds of kisses Bucky gives you.

"Love you too!"

[solarspirit]

How They Comfort You

(luffy, nami, sanji, zoro, usopp)

with the east blue five because i miss pre time skip one piece

edit: over 300 likes?! tysm i didnt think my random thoughts would get so far

Luffy

As goofy and dumb as he usually seems,  Luffy is actually pretty perceptive. 

If he notices you sulking by yourself, he’ll plop right down next to you, holding a big juicy stick of meat to share with you

Food always makes him feel better, so it should make you feel better, right? 

If you want to vent your troubles to him, he’ll nod along with a very serious expression and not understand any of it. At least he’s trying! 

If you cry, he’ll panic for a second before making silly faces to distract you and eventually cheer you up

Overall, he’s not great with what to say, but his presence and (somewhat helpful) attempts to make you feel better are comforting 

Nami

Out of all the Straw Hats, she’s the best person to go to for comfort 

She’ll actually ask you what you want, if you need advice or words of comfort, she’ll give them to you, and if you just want a hug or silence, she’ll do that instead 

Nami’s a hugger, so her go-to is to give you a warm hug anyway.

If you’re on an island, she’ll treat your sadness with retail therapy. Even if you don’t buy anything, trying on different outfits or looking at whatever you’re interested in helps take your mind off things 

If you’re really inconsolable, she’ll offer you something from her treasures she knows you’ve had your eye on. Only as a last case scenario, and she insists it’s a one time thing (it won’t be) 

Sanji 

Obviously, he’s going to cook for you. 

Sweet, savory, salty, whatever your comfort food is, he’ll make it as soon as he notices you’re sad. 

Although he already bends over backward for you anyway, he’ll be even more compliant with anything you ask for to try and make you feel better. 

If you smoke, he’ll  offer you a cigarette and some kind words to tide you over 

If you don’t, he’ll still give you solid advice or comfort to make you feel better. He’s pretty logical and is able to figure out how to solve whatever you’re going through.  

Zoro 

Zoro knows when something is wrong, but doesn’t really know what he’s supposed to do about it. 

If you’re sulking, he’ll sigh and sit with you until you break the silence. If you don’t want to talk and just need someone to be with you, he’s your guy. 

Zoro will give you solid advice if you ask for it, but won’t sugarcoat it. It’ll be blunt and straightforward.

 If you want comforting words for him, you’ll get them, but he’d rather just pat your head and listen to you vent. 

He’s one of those people who doesn’t know what to do when someone cries in front of them, so it’s a little awkward if you start crying. 

If you initiate it, he’ll let you cry into his chest and tell you it’s okay (partially because he doesn’t know what else to say). 

He’s not great at comforting you, but he tries his best

Usopp 

Usopp relies on humor and lies not fully true stories to cheer you up. 

Whenever you’re sad, he’ll come up with a tale of a grand adventure to take your mind off things 

Whatever he’s talking about, it’s so absurd that you find yourself laughing through your tears, or so indignant on proving what he’s saying is false that you forget  your troubles

He won’t let you be sad by yourself either–if he notices you’re sulking, suddenly the ship has a random repair he absolutely needs your help on, he needs your help with canon practice, any excuse to pull you out of your sadness 

If that doesn’t work, he’s always willing to listen to what you have to say and has surprisingly good advice on how to feel better 

[thewertsearch]

TG: jakes bday is coming up really soon TG: just a few days before mine remembr […] TG: i just wanted your advice on what to get him TG: something sentimental i guess? but i mean im mostly tapped out of precious heirlooms atm so idk TG: but not like anything coming on too strong

I don't think you need to overthink things, where Jake is concerned. Just like John, he strikes me as a rather straightforward guy, and would probably appreciate the direct approach.

Seriously, just be upfront with your feelings. He'll respond with either "capital! let us begin courting, post-haste!", or "sincerest apologies, my dear compatriot, but my heart lies with my cerulean beauties!"

Either way, the issue will be resolved. Simple as that.

TG: something that says TG: this is totes platonic and everything TG: no eyebrow raising funnybiz is goin on over here TG: but still says you know TG: call me TG: if you wanna

Nah, I'm just fucking with you.

These are teenagers. They're full of big emotions that they don't know what to do with, and they're navigating the treacherous waters of romance without a map. I might have dunked on Eridan when he said it, back in our Hivebent days, but when you're a kid, growing up really is hard, and nobody does understand. Not even you.

Roxy's not going to initiate a frank discussion about her feelings with Jake - she's going to pine for at least fifty pages, and then impulsively confess everything at once, probably in the middle of a crisis. Sometimes, that's just how it goes, when you're a teenager - and it's always how it goes when you're a fictional teenager.

TG: u dont think that if i didnt say he was off limits on account of you being my best friend TG: i wouldnt be all the hell over that????

Wait, ok. So Roxy is pretending she's going to flirt with Jake - but she's really just messing with Jane, because Jane's also into him.

It's nice that there's no bad blood between the two as a result. You just know that in a lesser story, Jane and Roxy would proceed to squabble over this guy until it completely ruined their friendship. Thank you, Homestuck, very cool!

TG: you dont even let me say your dad is hot even though we both know he way the fuck is i mean come one

In every timeline, Roxy is destined to swoon over the prefect gentleman that is Dad Egbert.

GG: I don't see why you don't try to court the favor of Mr. Strider. If you ask me, he and you are perfect for each other. TG: oh jane TG: so naive TG: soooo niaev

The Bro we knew probably shouldn't have been dating anyone. Perhaps this version of him is equally unapproachable, and Roxy knows it - his little out-of-office responder would certainly suggest that that's the case.

GG: How can you be this fargone so early? […] TG: its a lot later here GG: You're three hours ahead of me! TG: youd would be amazed TG: how much can happen TG: in 3 hours GG: Tsk. What would your mother have to say if she caught you? TG: p sure she wouldnt give a shit

Rose, what the fresh fuck!

Look - guys, I know she's not exactly the maternal type, but come on. Even the adult Roxy, absent and alcoholic as she was, at least lifted a finger to keep her daughter safe, and you're telling me Rose can't even clear that bar?

Maybe Roxy's projecting a little. Rose often assumed her mother was acting in bad faith, even when that wasn't necessarily the case, and there's no reason that something similar couldn't be happening here.

...right?

[m4y4wasnthere]

can you pls write a johnny cade x fem!reader smut? thank you!

its you

johnny cade x f!reader

warnings: smut w plot !

summary: its been years since you’ve been in tulsa, you came back to visit your parents after being in college for so long.

a/n: its been so long since i looked at anything outsiders related, so johnny might be ooc 😅

its been years since you first moved away from tulsa. you were one of few that was able to attend college outside the state.

you got off at the airport, dragging your suitcase behind you.

the nearest bus stop was a 10 minute walk away, so it’d be best if you hurried up.

while you were walking along the sidewalk, a car slowed down beside you.

how wonderful. cat calling and it hasnt even been an hour off the plane.

“y/n? is that you?”

you turned in surprise at the black car. you squinted to see if you recognized the man.

black messy hair and a bit of a stubble. he had great, full eyebrows and a bold stare.

“dallas winston?” you smiled in disbelief.

“the one ‘nd only.” he popped open his passenger door for you.

“let me give you a ride. where ya headin’?”

you quickly put your bags in the backseat and hopped in the front next to him.

“im just visiting my parents for a week. finally got my bachelors.” you smiled to yourself feeling proud.

“you were always such a try hard” he started driving towards the familar town you grew up in, “were ya planning to tell us you were coming?” he said with a chuckle.

in reality, you weren’t. you were hoping you didnt have to see the old gang. when you left, you weren’t on the best terms with everyone.

you left without warning, had dinner with them one night, the next night you weren’t gone without a word. no note or message, when they asked your parents about you, they said you were on the plane already.

none of them knew you got accepted into a college, nevertheless, thinking about going to one.

“yea, maybe have dinner with you guys for a night” you lied, looking away.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

dallas dropped you at your folks’ house, he never mentioned alot of the others.

he had his own bar now, he got into jail less, he even got a fiancé.

when you entered the house, your parents greeted you with excitement, asking questions about the city, your friends, the usual stuff.

it wasnt until preparing for dinner that your mother spoke up.

“we should invite those old friends of yours ! do you remember them? you guys were always so close. especially that jean jacket one, the one who always had a black eye?”

your mom mindlessly rambled about your old friends, which made you sick to your stomach.

“i dont know mom, its been years. i dont think they remember me” you tried changing the topic.

your mom stops cutting up food and looks at you.

“well i sort’ve thought you would be happy to see them, so i invited them to dinner when i heard you were visiting” she nervously started setting the table.

your heart sank.

“its okay, i just wish you would’ve gave me a heads up” you sighed out tiredly. what were you going to do now? you were afraid of what they were going to say. especially johnny.

when you were younger, johnny was your best friend. you had a bit of a crush on him and he did too. nothing major ever came of it because of your sudden disappearance, but you guys shared secret kisses and words of affection in the past.

you went up to your room, deciding to take a nap to ease your nerves, before they all arrive.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

chatter was heard downstairs, a bunch of voices filling your house.

you groggily went downstairs and you wishes you didnt.

they were all here.

dallas was sitting next to johnny and ponyboy, sodapop and two-bit were watching something on the TV while being stretched out on the couch. darry was knocked out on the opposite side of the couch.

you stood at the top of the staircase silently cursing under your breath. you mustered up the courage to go downstairs.

the 6 of them looked up at you.

“see i told you guys ‘m not crazy” dallas had a cigarette in his mouth, which you were surprised your mom even allowed.

they all crowd around you except for dallas and johnny.

you were lying if you said it didnt feel nice to see them again. they all asked basic questions about how hard college was, if you got a job, how people act around there.

out of the corner of your eye, you watched johnny leave the room to go upstairs.

you couldnt help but feel guilty.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

dinner was great, you finally warmed up to everyone and they didnt seem to hold any grudge against you from over the years.

johnny was the only one quiet most of the evening.

the gang wanted you to hangout with them some more outside of the house, so you all decided to go to the drive in.

during the movie, most of them fell asleep on the back of the truck you guys were all laying on.

you, dallas, and johnny were the only ones awake. (dallas was barely awake at all.)

johnny got up and starting walking out, but you followed him.

“johnny, where are you going?” you lightly smiled as you tried to walk after him.

he stopped in his tracks and turned around to face you. “look y/n, im sure this has all been fun but i just cant stand to be in the same room as you.” he stared at the ground while speaking.

even being a full grown adult, he was still shy.

“its not your fault but i just cant look at you and act like everything is just.. nothing.” he tilted his head up to make eye contact.

you didnt know how to respond, you definitely didn’t think he would want to talk about it head on.

“i know we were kids and that it probably didnt mean anything to you compared to me. i even tried getting with other girls to get over you. but they arent you, none of them are.” he looked at you dead in the eyes.

“johnny i-“

“forget i said anything, please? i know today mustve been fun for you but i just cant talk to you and pretend like i dont want anything more. besides its obvious what your after.” he looked away towards the drive in. what he said confused you. what im after ?

“what do you mean by that?” you fiddled with the hem of your shirt.

“gosh i dont know. the fact that he picked you up from the airport?” he crosses his arms now, “he was the only one who knew about the dinner before any of us, he even sat next to you during the movie.” he looked at you with desperate eyes. “i cant think of you any other way and i thought we could even start over. but i guess not.”

you were shocked by his words. he was talking about dallas.

“is this about dallas? johnny i swear that all of it was mere coincidence. i never asked him to pick me up and he only knew about the dinner because i told him during the car ride. dallas sat next to me out of mere coincidence, i swear.” you clutched your hands together nervously. you didnt even notice yourself how close dallas might have seemed today.

he didnt say anything, he just stood there and stared at you.

“i promise you, i didnt even realize how much ive been around him ,” you took a deep breath, “i wouldnt mind the idea of us trying again.”

you muttered under your breath, just enough so he can hear you.

you were going to turn and walk back to the truck when he pulled you into a tight embrace.

“i missed you y/n.”

“i missed you too johnny.”

“there were alot of things that happened after you left.”

you hummed in response. he slowly stroked you hair before he went to tilt your chin up to look at him.

his gaze traveled up and down your face, memorizing each curve and groove, until he leaned down to kiss you.

his lips were warm and welcoming and he held you lovingly.

“c’mon you two lovebirds, i dont wanna see that shit.”

you two quickly pulled apart as dallas walked by.

“sorry dal.” johnny nervously put his hands back in his pockets and kicked a rock.

“yea yea whatever, dont go home too late, ya hear me?”

“yea i hear you.” dallas walked off, probably going off to bucks. johnny pulled you back into him.

“can we..” he whispered before you smiled and your lips met again.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

the windows fogged as you quickly pulled your shirt over your head. johnny was kissing your neck passionately and leaving hickeys everywhere.

you guys ended up in a car trunk behind bucks, not really caring if someone saw you.

“your so pretty,” johnny said softly as he unclipped your bra.

before you could mutter a thank you, he groped both of your tits and started to rub his fingers into your nipples.

he went back up to your face to kiss you softly, sliding his tongue until your mouth and swirling it around. you moaned into him and that made him rub your nipples even harder.

“can i finger you baby?” he whispered into your mouth.

“yes please johnny..”

he sat you down and gently took off your jeans and panties. he slowly slipped a finger inside your wet hole.

wet noises filled the car, along with your breathy moans. johnny took off his pants and boxers and rubbed himself off to you.

you reached for his cock and started to jerk him off instead. it was a lewd sight, johnny pumping his fingers in and out of you, and you jerking his pre-cum covered cock.

“yea y/n, just like that. it feels so good.”

he slipped 2 more fingers inside and started curling against your g-spot. you arched your back in delight and gasped.

you sat up so you were fully against him, and you moaned in his ear.

“dont stop johnny, please, it feels so good.”

he smiled and quickened his pace. you felt a knot tighten in your stomach. his thick callused fingers felt so good inside your tight little hole.

“your gonna come baby?” you nodded and moaned loudly until he pulled his fingers out.

“i want you to come while im inside you. is that okay y/n?” he asked breathless.

“yes johnny, please hurry up. i wanna come so badly..” you moaned tease-fully in his ear.

he lined himself up with you and slowly slid his cock inside your hole.

he filled you up so nicely.

“okay baby ‘m gonna start. you okay?” you nodded impatiently and bucked your hips.

he started thrusting in and out of you, his hands held your own and he kissed and licked your body.

the knot returned to your stomach once more.

“baby ‘m gonna come..”

“im gonna come soon too, come with me, please baby?”

you smiled and nodded and wrapped your arms around his neck. you kissed him as he started thrusting harder into you

your legs locked around his waist, you felt the knot inside you come undone.

you moaned loudly into his kisses, and his thrusts became sloppy.

“fuck y/n, your so perfect.” he moaned in your mouth as you felt him quickly pull out and cover your stomach with his warm arousal.

your mind was blank and all you wanted was him.

he took a napkin and cleaned you up, before laying down next to you.

“i love you..”

“i love you even more.”

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

[burreauxsss]

baby lies

background: y/n a wag for the chiefs who is dating travis kelce of 3 years finds out he cheated on her. she assures herself that she'd never watch the nfl nor date another nfl player, until a convincing quarterback hits her dms.

(all pics from pinterest, all rights reserved)

synopsis: a couple of months later, the most anticipated day for a few months comes, its happy for now.

word count: 800

notes: im going to end this series soon in the most cruelest way EVER so be prepared

warning: this is a au aka alternative universe series, joe's genuinely hiding something this time. not proofread at all. i wanted to write this in a "i did" pov but it didnt work out, so ignore any misspellings.

Y/N woke up to sunlight spilling across the room, the kind that makes everything feel soft and warm, the kind that should make a day feel perfect.

Today was supposed to be perfect. Your baby shower.

Sitting up slowly, pressing one hand against your bump, and smiling when you felt a gentle kick. “Good morning, little one,” you whispered. Your heart felt nervous, You’d dreamed of this day since you found out you were pregnant. You even bought the perfect dress months ago: baby blue, off-the-shoulder, hugging the right places while still making you feel normal, because ever since the pregnancy, you were warned numerous times that Joe had trapped you with a child and that your career would be done without his help. But you always defended him no matter what, because you knew he’d never.

Joe walked in a few moments later, dressed already in a crisp white button down. He looked good, really mouthwatering good, but something felt… off. Lately, it always did.

“Morning love,” he said, leaning down to kiss your forehead. Not your lips. Again.

You noticed. But you told yourself not to.

“You’re up early,” Y/N says.

Joe shrugged, half-smiling. “Wanted to make sure everything was in place for today.”

His phone buzzed on the nightstand. He snatched it before you could glance over.

“It's coach,” Joe said quickly.

Tilting your head. “On a Sunday?”

“They don’t sleep, I guess,” he mumbled and started walking out.  Watching him go, your chest tight but trying not to let it sink your mood. Maybe he was nervous. Maybe he was just overwhelmed. That had to be it. Right?

The backyard was a dream. Pale blue and ivory balloons everywhere, white picnic tables lined with eucalyptus and tiny teddy bears. Your friends and mother had outdone themselves. You teared up when you saw the cake: soft vanilla with little baby shoes made of fondant on top and “Baby Burrow” written in gold.

Soaking it all in, that everyone was there. Laughing, hugging you, and complimenting the glow. You were glowing, were you not? Or was it just how happy y/n wanted to look?

Joe played his part well. He brought you drinks, fluffed the cushion on your chair, and made people laugh. 

“You’ve got a good one,” your cousin whispered to you, sipping her mimosa. “He looks so proud of you.”

Smiling back, but the truth was…you weren't sure what you had.

Twice during the party, you witnessed  Joe slip behind the garage, phone in hand. Both times, he told you he was checking on the caterer. Both times, he came back acting like nothing happened. He touched your waist, kissed your cheek, and told you how beautiful you were.

Maybe it was the hormones, or maybe it was instinct, but something inside Y/N still ached.

Still, you pushed it away.

Because today wasn’t about Y/N. Or him. It was about the baby. Our baby.

Hours later, the house was finally quiet. Wrapping paper littered the floor like fallen petals. The baby gifts were stacked high in the corner plush blankets, bottles, tiny socks, Y/N could already imagine on the baby's feet.  Lying in bed, scrolling through pictures from the day, smiling despite the still knot in your stomach.

Joe was in the shower, humming to himself. That knot in your chest twisted a little tighter.

Then, his phone buzzed. Loud. He’d left it on the bed. You glanced over.

And saw it.

📸: “don’t forget what you said last night, joey. i’m still waiting for that pic, and for you to dump that girl 🤮.”

Your heart froze. How could he do that? To you, the girl who stood by him throughout the most critical season of his life, just for him to abandon his pregnant girlfriend.

Y/N just stared at it.

“Hey,” Joe said, stepping out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, water dripping from his hair. “Everything okay?”

You blinked and forced a smile. “Yeah. Just tired.”

“Long day,” he said, climbing into bed beside Y/N. He wrapped his arm around her waist like he always did. And you let him. Leaning into him as intended to.

The smell of baby lotion still hung in the air. The elephant plush he bought sat on the rocking chair in the corner, smiling at nothing.

Lying there, his hand resting on Y/N’s belly, wondering how you can feel so full… and still be missing something.

But didn’t say a word. Not tonight for your stress only.

Because tonight was for the baby, for now.

yn.handle

❤️ 350,278 💬 2

liked by: joeyb_9 kimkardashian bengals yourbsf and others

yn.handle: cannot wait 🩵

yourbsf: mama era!! yn.handle: yes indeed.

joeyb_9: i cannot wait either. yn.handle: mhm.

*comments are limited*

[impactedfates]

hello! jing yuan meeting his kid he had from a previous relationship?

so jing yuan had a previous lover, he didnt visit her until he learned that she was in a bad situation/ struggling with poverty

so he goes to visit and sees a kid that looked like him that he never knew of, they were neglected by their mother while he was gone all these years

reader is the kid, thankss

★ A/N: I decided to mash these 2 into one as I feel like the reader would've gotten trust issues if their mother neglected them, not to mention what if the mother lied to their kid painting JY (their father) as a bad guy :0 Anyways, I hope the anons don't mind I merged the requests into one

☆ Genre/Trope: Platonic + Familial + Hurt/Comfort?

★ Format: Bullet Pointed Scenarios

☆ Warnings: Readers mother is neglectful/a toxic mother (+ alcoholic)

★ Extra: Reader is young (11-12) // Jing Yuan trying his best to heal whatever his ex partner did // Also 2 posts in one day haha, had a bunch of free time during the storm

I feel like for Jing Yuan to not visit his past lover nor have her contacts, she'd have to already be a bad partner. What I mean is, Jing Yuan seems like the type to even after a break up, not want it to affect his relationship with the other person UNLESS said other person was toxic. If that makes sense???

But anyways, I don't know if that mattered. Let's assume that a friend of said ex partner went to Jing Yuan for help. Explaining her situation in hopes Jing Yuan would be willing to help.

He is, much to the delight of the friend. However he underestimated just how bad the situation is, as when he went to check. The house is in shambles.

Dirty dishes building up in the sink, trash on the ground it's hard to move around in, there's a kid and aeons it smells like such dog sh-

Wait a kid!?

Jing Yuan stares at you, you stare at him. It's just...silence. Despite everything and how long it may be. He knows that you're his kid. And after getting over the initial shock. He gently calls you over, but you refuse. Shaking your head and even creating a bigger distance.

He lets out a small sigh, unsure on what to do but just decides to look for your mother again. Telling you to please stay put, and once he does find the mother. Passed out on the couch with alcohol bottles around, he gets an even better view on what you seem to have went through.

Things have been dealt with, the mother is gone and in jail for child negligence which leaves you with your biological father who is more than happy to look after you.

At the same time though, your mother had both neglected your needs. Giving just the bare minimum to keep you alive and had fed you lies. The man in front of you may be your father but you can't help but believe the harsh words your mother told you.

But to your surprise, he's nothing like how she described. He's...gentle...patient...and never raises his voice at you. Even when you make a mistake and start tearing up ready to apologise, he's already brushing it off. Saying it's fine, not to worry.

Jing Yuan isn't bothered by your behaviour at all. He understands and knows. He takes a few days off work, to just ensure you're all better. You get new clothes, a big meal prepared for you and a new room. It's such a...new feeling.

Jing Yuan doesn't force you to do anything, doesn't force you to hug him or be near him. All he asks is that you stay safe in the house. He doesn't outright ask for you to trust him just because he's your father, he gains your trust. No matter how long it'll take for you to be comfortable around him.

Even when he needs to go back to work, he asks you if you're more comfortable to come with him to work and he can set up a place where you can relax and do whatever you wish. Or if you'd rather be at home. If you choose to just stay at home, he'll order some guards to ensure your safety and if Yanqing has gained your trust in this time. He'll ask the young boy to be your babysitter even if your age difference isn't that large.

Overall, Jing Yuan is definitely surprised to find out he has a child but that surprise turns into unhappiness when he finds out how you've been treated. He ensures your mother gets put in jail for her negligence then takes you in. He doesn't force you at all to trust him, he slowly earns it and whether or not you do end up trusting him eventually. He doesn't mind either outcome.

Because in the end, he doesn't care if you actually trust him or not. What he cares about is if you're healthy and happy. That's his main priority at this moment and time.

If/When you are finally ready, he's there with open arms. Happy to have you see him as a father figure and happy he can heal whatever damage his ex partner ever did to you.

He's happy because you're happy.

I started basing this slightly off a book I read for school as I thought it fitted haha. I'm unsure what to think of this but hopefully it's okay...

[seokmn]

chapter 11.

wc: 1.7k words

another rock was thrown in the lake as you sighed. “i cant believe he did that to me, and i cant believe they hid that from me!”

keeho rubbed your back and listened to you quietly, knowing that all you needed at that moment was someone to listen to you. “he couldve talked to me! he knows im a good listener! it shouldnt need to end up like this…”  you looked at your hands that were resting on your lap while your fingers were playing with the little rocks you were holding. you let out a frustrated sigh and looked at the lake that reflected the moons light. “ah, i dont know,” you threw a rock far away in the lake. the rock jumping a few times before finally leaving your eyesight as it fell down into the water.

“wanna know the worst part?” you chuckled bitterly and didnt even give keeho time to answer, you were already talking again. “i love him way too much to even say that i hate him or wish him the worst. id probably break up with him either way… i just didnt want things to end like this.”

“youd break up with him either way?”

“keeho, i love chan too much to let him keep me by his side after i become a burden for him. ive already met him when he had his dream of becoming an idol clear as day, how would i let him give up on his dream just for the sake of a relationship? he can get over me, but he cant get over his dream,” you said as you looked at keeho with so much sadness in your eyes. you knew that what you were saying was the most rational and right thing to think, say, and do, but deep down, your heart is broken, and you are screaming to have chan back deep inside.

“so, you want my opinion on this, or do you want me to just listen to you?”

“no, you can speak up.”

“first of all, you have all the right to be mad and upset at him, yeri and sieun, but you have to understand their sides as well. about sieun and yeri, they knew about this, but should they really tell you? some people would say yes, some people would say they did the right thing because this is between you and chan and they found out without wanting to. chan didnt tell them, he has no clue that they know,” keeho took a rock out of your hands and threw it in the lake. “now, about chan… he was an asshole, yes. he shouldve never treated you like that. but hes torn between you or his career, and that shows how much he loves you, dont you agree? imagine having someone loving you so much to the point of not knowing if they should choose you or pursue the dream they have had since they were a little kid.”

listening to keeho’s words made your eyes tear up and your lips tremble. he was right, chan loves you that much. “i think you should listen to what he has to say, but not right now. do that when youre feeling ready, okay? and dont be mad at sieun and yeri, they did what they thought was the best for you, and by sieuns message she was feeling really bad from hiding that from you, and you know how yeri is, i bet she was feeling bad as well.”

keeho patted your back and gave you a small and reassuring smile. you studied his face, and you saw nothing but love and empathy in his eyes, not a single hint of pity. he didnt pity you for being lied to and having to break up with the love of your life, he never once pitied you, and thats one of the countless reasons that you love about keeho. he loves you for who you are and always showed you how theres no one better to be your best friend but him.

you closed the distance between you by pulling him into a tight hug. the way he hugged you back immediately made you finally break down into tears.

you knew that even if it hurt and it would take a while to heal from this, everything would be fine because you have the best friendship ever and because you were making the right choice for the guy you romantically love more than anything.

the ride home just wasnt silent because keeho knows how to crack a joke and light up your mood. a part of you was almost forgetting about chan for the moment until your eyes landed on him sitting on the ground outside your house. the boy who was looking down at his own feet immediately looked up when he heard your laugh—your laugh that died once you noticed him—and felt his heart beat faster. he stood up while you stayed still with keeho beside you.

“do you want me to tell him to go away?” keehos question came out as a whisper. its not easy to tell that keeho adores chan, but he would fight him if you asked him to. even tho youre older than him, keeho thinks that he has to protect you just like an older brother would protect his little sister. “no, its fine. you should go tho.. see you at school, and thank you for today.”

keeho nodded and pat your shoulder before glancing at chan and flashing him a smile as he walked away, leaving you and chan alone.

“what are you doing here and how long were you waiting for me?” you made your way to the front door while taking your keys out of your pocket. “i wanted to talk... if youre up to, of course. ive been waiting not for much time,” chan lied. he went to your house a few minutes after you left with keeho. “when i came i saw that the lights of your room were off and supposed you were out. i didnt want to bother your parents by asking for you and waiting inside in case you didn’t want to talk to me.”

“what do you even want to talk about, chan?” your voice showed a hint of frustration, which didnt go unnoticed by chan, making him frown a little bit. “i want to apologize, yn. i shouldnt have acted like that, i recognize my mistake. i dont know what i was thinking… i was under do much pressure yesterday and- and…” his eyes started to be filled with tears, and his voice started to crack, he was trying his best to hold back his tears, but was failing miserably. “and i love you so much, i dont want this to be the end. i just dont know what to do. im so sorry.”

chan started to cry for real, sobs coming out from his mouth as he fell on his knees and looked up at you with a hopeless and extremely hurt expression. “i was supposed to show you every single day how much i love you and never be the reason of your worries, insecurities, and tears from sadness or anger. gosh-“ he choked on his own sob before continuing. “im so sorry. i dont know what to do. this is killing me.”

it was impossible to see that sight of him and not start to cry as well. it hurt you more seeing him like that than the whole situation itself that led you to this. “chan… stand up, please.” he shook his head and stayed on his knees. he tried to speak, but his sobs interrupted him, and his voice didnt even need to threaten him to fail, it was already a fact that if he tried to speak, his voice wouldnt go out. chan’s throat was tensioned, it was like there was something huge and painful stuck in it, and that feeling was more than agonizing.

you took a few steps closer to him and gently wrapped your arms around his head, which made him instantly lean into your touch and hug your hips as he mumbled countless im sorry against the beginning of your thigh.

you let him be as you waited for him to calm down and took the opportunity to calm down as well, trying your best to stop crying and ease the pain in your chest.

“i… i know why you were acting like that. its better for us to break up, chan.” as soon as the words came out of your lips, chan immediately looked at you. his expression showing a hint of shock, confusion, and horror. “w-what? how..? why?”

“dont ask me how, just be aware that i know the reason,” you sighed, ran your fingers through your hair, bit your lower lip, and looked at chan while he slowly started to stand up. “this is your dream, chan. why would you throw that away?”

“because you also became my dream, yn! i mean- fuck! im so in love with you, ever since we started dating, my dream is to see you walking down the aisle in your wedding dress and saying yes to me! i want you and you only! dont do this to me, dont do this to us.”

you clenched your fist. why is he making everything more complicated? all you wanted to do was kiss him until you lost your breath, but you couldnt. you had to stay strong and not back down.

“dont make this difficult. the decision has been made, chan. i dont want to keep in this relationship anymore. you should go after your real dream, not your little fantasy.”

“yn, please-“

“enough, chan,” you cut him off. “stop embarrassing yourself and go home.”

you opened the front door and went inside without even glancing at chan. you knew that if you looked at him one more time, youd give up, and you couldnt risk.

once the door was closed, all your walls were destroyed. you sat down on the floor with your head in your hands and started to cry as hard as possible, even losing your breath.

on the other side of the door, there was chan staring at it with no expression or thoughts. he had cried so much before that there were no tears left to cry, he just stayed there staring at the door for a few minutes before slowly turning around and making his way to his house with his heart broken.

if humans had seven hearts, chan was sure that all of his seven heart would be absolutely destroyed

HIGH SCHOOL SWEETHEARTS

yn and chan date since their freshman year and are truly high school sweethearts, but will chan’s dream of becoming an idol get between their relationship?

masterlist — prev — next

taglist: @ivehypnosis @wonkierideul @ateez-atiny380 @noircheols @222brainrot @odxrilove @vixensss @starshuas

[cm-punks-bbl]

"Only Wanna Be With You"

Punkintyre: Drew's Birthday

word count: around 900

contains: fluff, established relationship (they're married!)

summary: It's Drew's 40th birthday, he expects to just go drinking that day, until he receives an unexpected gift from his husband.

tagging my squad (I didnt ask who wants to be tagged so im just assuming): @ladyyy--stardust @dnddykes @thlayli-ra @punk-o-ween @fandom-and-random @empressofbrutality @fantasticalleigh

Punk checks the calendar hanging on the wall. He knows what day it is—it's all his husband talked about the last 3 days—but he couldn't help but notice what's written on the calendar.

A big red circle surrounds the square for June 6th, in it reads, “Punk pays for Drew's drinks day”.

Great. As if he doesn't pay all the time.

As Punk crosses the day off on the calendar, he feels two strong arms wrap around his shoulders from behind. “Happy birthday, darling,” The older man says. He put his hand over Drew's, leaning into his chest.

“I'm a year older and you still seem like an old man!” Drew exclaims, moving his arms and putting Punk in a headlock.

“Never a moment of peace in this hellhole, is there?” Punk doesn't even try escaping the other man's grip, he doesn't mind being closer to Drew's biceps, not one bit.

“You don't mind it.” Drew lets Punk go, wrapping his arms around him once more.

“I got you a present!” Punk exclaims, he breaks free of Drew's arms and runs off to who-knows-where. Drew shakes his head and smiles, his husband never changes. He's been like this since they first got together, and it'll always be like this, or so Drew hopes.

The night before, Punk left the house when Drew slept and brought back a special gift for him. One he knows the other man would never expect. It's his 40th birthday, of course Punk has to go all out.

Drew stands there for what feels like hours, he hears Punk walking, hears things move around, is that wrapping paper?

Punk soon appears from the room he was in, carrying a large, wrapped box. It seems light, from the way the older man is holding it. Of course, Punk would put a small present in a comically large box.

“Lovely, did you just wrap that?” Drew asks, looking at the box.

“I had to! Here, open it,” Punk quickly hands the box to Drew.

What was that? Did the box just meow? He connects the dots, understanding now why Punk had to wait to wrap it. But Punk would really do that, for him?

He quickly starts unwrapping the gift, tearing the wrapping paper apart, leaving bits and pieces strewn across the floor. The way he unwraps it is almost animalistic, Punk laughs to himself at the sight.

Drew soon tears the box open as well, thinking it was a little too much work to cut the tape. He hurriedly picks up what was inside, dropping the box on the floor.

“Oh my god, Punk, look at it!” He holds up a small kitten with black fur and light, crystal blue eyes. It almost looks like Drew. The excitement on the Scotsman's face is worth every penny spent. The last time Punk has seen Drew smile this big, was at the altar.

The kitten is dwarfed by Drew's hands, though just about everything is. The man's a giant, after all.

“I also got some cat toys,” Punk says, disappearing to another room once more.

When he comes back, he finds Drew sitting on the floor, playing with the cat already. He can't help but smile, it's such a precious sight, his husband looking just so happy. It seems recently he's always been angry, towards just about everything, so it's nice to see him like this.

“Here.” Punk leans down and hands the cat toys to Drew, before whispering, “Happy birthday, darling.” He kisses Drew's forehead as he roughs up his hair.

“Fuck, I love you. Do you know that? Do you know how much I love you?” Drew asks, almost aggressively, still excited from the gift.

“Of course I do! But I love you more.” Punk teases Drew.

“Don't you start.” He picks up the kitten, kissing it and holding it against his chest. Practically clutching his metaphorical pearls. He listens to the cute noises the kitten makes every time he pets it, and he almost dies from cuteness every single time.

~~~

Drew and Punk lay together in bed that night, of course, in the middle, lay the tiny kitten.

“Hold on, does it have a name?” Drew asks, too caught up all day in the fact it was adorable to ever think to ask. He strokes the cat's soft fur with his thumb.

“Nope, you gotta name it. You're 40 now, I think you can handle the responsibility,” Punk responds.

“Shit,” Drew starts, “I'm 40 now! I'm almost your age!” He laughs to himself as he watches Punk crack a small smile.

“Wow.” All Punk can muster out, attempting to guilt trip Drew and make him take it back.

“It's okay, I like ‘em older.” He moves over and climbs on top of Punk before kissing him passionately. One hand behind Punk's neck, the other supporting him.

Punk welcomes it and assumes more will be made of it, a nice end to the day, but there's one problem. Punk pulls away from the kiss, having to pry Drew's face away. He looks up at the man above him, he seems out of touch with reality, out of breath and his pupils dilated. Drew always gets so caught up in the moment, so focused on Punk, that's what he loves about him.

But again, there's a problem. “The cat's still on the bed.”

“Dammit. Stay right there and don't move.” Drew climbs off of Punk, before delicately picking up the cat. He opens the bedroom door, leaning down and placing the kitten lightly on the floor. He pats the kitten's head, closing the door soon after.

[skatingbi]

So hear me out on my headcanon guys:

Sanji with heterochromia (i cant spell that fuckin word man..) where one eye is blue and another is brown. He always hides the blue eye.

The first one to notice is Zoro, who is immediantly like "holy shit youre eyes are pretty" and sanji is like "what the FUCK"

Actually fuck it im gonna write about this nobody can stop me.

Sometimes, on lonley nights in the gallery, when Sanji is busy prepping, he looks in the reflection of his knife. Underneath the frizzy mess of a fringe that is part of his hair reveals the blue eye he struggles looking at. He stares, scrutinizing that light blue in the gleam of his knife gripped tightly in his hand. He looks away to force his attention back on prep work. His hands are always slightly unsteady after those moments. He always ends up with a cut on his hand one way or another on those nights.

When Sanji was a kid, his brothers would use his heterochromia as a weapon against him. He was the freak with two colored eyes. They would say his blue eye was creepy, too. Not only was he weak but also too different to be called their brother.

When you're a kid, you take these insults to heart. Eventually, when you're barely into adulthood, they'll still plague you. They become a part of you, just like how Zeff's teachings became a part of Sanji.

Judge looked at his eyes with disgust masked by indifference. It was another reason for Sanji to assume why he was the failure. The outcast. The runt of the litter.

His mother had blue eyes. She always claimed Sanji got his blue eye from her because her father had heterochromia, too. That was the only time little Sanji felt normal. When she died, Sanji started to grow out his hair to hide the only thing he had left of her: her eyes.

Now, Sanji still hides her eyes from view. Realistically, Sanji is fully aware that none of the crew would give a rats ass what he looked like. Regardless, old habits die hard. He feels safe under the mask he made for himself. As he goes about preparing lunch, perhaps grilled sea king again with how luffy is always eager to fight those things, he lets his mind wander to his eyes more. While hands expertly move through his knife like an extension of his body, he thinks about the mess of blond hair that's always in the way. He'd never admit it out loud, but his hair actually bothers him. Since it started growing out, it gets everywhere; his mouth, in his eyes, and tangled in the buttons of his shirt. Is sanji happy with his longer hair? Absolutely. It's a nusiance to leave it down constantly, though.

As he's thinking this, he's blowing the fringe of hair covering his face out of the way every so often so it stops tickling his nose. He continues to evenly slice through a portion of sea king meat until somebody, Nami he realizes immediantly, speaks up.

"Do you need a hair tie, sanji?" Nami asks sweetly. Her smile is radiant, as always, while she looks up from the map shes been studying. Sanji didnt even realize Nami came in and made the kitchen table into a study until now, but he doesnt dwell on it. Nami is welcome in his kitchen, after all.

"Oh no, thank you, Nami-swan! I think I just need a haircut soon," Sanji lies as he's moving through the kitchen. He gives Nami a quick smile before turning back to the meat on the cutting board and avoids Nami's gaze under the disguise of being busy. His lie wasn't as believable as he wanted it to be, especially when he's stumbling over his words while he is usually eloquent with them towards Nami and Robin.

"But until then, you should take one! I probably have hundreds lying around my room anyways," She says. It's a peace offering designed to be in Sanji's language of communication. It secretly says he's getting that hairtie whether he wants it or not, and Sanji is weak enough to accept the offering. He takes the hair tie with a grateful smile, wrapping it around his wrist and going back to his current task. Nami and Sanji work in comfortable silence after that, but the hair tie weighs on his wrist like a weighted bracelet.

A few days pass by. Through every single one, he stares at the hair tie in the morning. He really should tie his hair back. It reaches his shoulders for gods sake, and it keeps getting in his mouth - but that small part of him that clings onto grief like its all that he knows refuses to. He doesn't think he can bring himself to share the only part of himself that he truly loves deep down. What if the crew really thinks it's weird? What if his brothers are right?

These what if's roam in the back of his mind. They lurk just beneath the surface like an unknown predator hidden in murky water. He ignores it along with the anxiety that crawls up his throat every time he looks at his wrist.

Then, a week passes by. Now he's in his kitchen making a simple breakfast for his nakama. Franky, in particular, will enjoy this since his tastes lie within American style food most of the time. He focuses on seasoning the eggs, some of them cooked differently to cater to everyone's tastes. While he goes through the familiar and therapeutic motions of cooking, the door opens to reveal an annoying head of mossy hair and the steady noise of three swords bumping each other at the hip.

" Oi, go to sleep in your own bunk. I dont need you stinkin' up my kitchen while im trying to work." He utters without looking up from the stove.

"Why can't I just sleep here shit cook?" Zoro grunts. Sanji hears him shuffle around on the gallery's couch behind him. He's probably lying down, or maybe he'll sleep sitting up again, or maybe he'll watch Sanji cook. That's the most irritating one, which usually ends up with them fighting out on the deck one way or another.

"Because youre fuckin' annoying, get out."

"The hell I am, I'm taking a nap here."

"Oh my - You know what?" Sanji whips around to glare at Zoro, making sure the knife he was using is now in his hand to point at the source of his ire, "Fine, but if I hear a single snore out of you I'm kicking you into the ocean!" He threatens and turns around to finish up with breakfast. By now, all he has left is pancakes. The batter was prepped earlier, so now it's just focusing on pouring evenly. It's task that's menial but still important to him regardless.

His hair is covering his face too much. He tries to shake his head to flip it to the side. It falls back to where it was before he can pick the bowl of batter back up. He brushes it over his shoulder, and it simply flows back over it. He blows his hair out of the way, a classic move, but not even that works and he's slamming the bowl down on the counter before he can even stop himself and walks away from his work to grab the hairtie from around his wrist. In a few fluid motions, he ties his hair back haphazardly into a poor attempt at a low bun, but it's out of his face, and now he can focus.

He's too deep in concentration to even remember that he has heterochromia in the first place. Cooking lowers his guard unlike anything else in the world. The gallery acts like a safe space and cooking is his comfort. He still forgets, too, while calling for Zoro to get his lazy ass up to help since he's decided to loiter in his kitchen.

"Hey moss, if you're gonna laze around my kitchen, set the table for me." His request demand is met with a middle finger, which Sanji gladly returns as he walks over to the couch to kick Zoro on the stomach. The half asleep annoyance is now suddenly alert and glares at Sanji for a moment before it's quickly replaced with a look Sanji has yet to add to his mental notes he likes to call "Marimo Dictionary". Zoro's eyebrows are slightly raised, and his eyes glitter with something Sanji rarely sees. He's never been able to place a name on that look. Now he's confused. "What? Dont give me that youre tired crap youre not fuckin 10." He says.

Zoro is still looking at him, though, and now Sanji looks back with confusion because what the fuck is he-

Oh. His eyes.

Shit.

Sanji rips the hairtie out of his hair at light speed, probably pulling a few strands out by accident in the process but he could honestly care less when theres something more important. Like whatever the fuck just happened.

Before he can turn away and go set the table himself to distance himself from the marimo, Zoro's hand moves suddenly to grab his wrist, stopping him from running away.

"Wait, wait, hold on," Zoro pleads. And what the fuck. Zoro has never said anything like that and its fucking with Sanji's head because what the fuck. "You...uh." He continues in his signature graceless way. "Your eyes..." He pauses after that, sitting up and looking at Sanji, but not just looking, he's looking.

"Marimo," Sanji's own voice is riddled with anxiety with how shaky it is now. "Let me go dumbass," He demands but it could have been mistaken for him begging with how much he's struggling to keep himself together.

He's anticipating the worst. He knows what he's expecting. Sanji has experienced it countless times before, and he's aware he will again right now while a pancake is probably burning on the pan for all he knows.

It doesnt.

Zoro is looking at him still, maintaining eye contact but also darting between both eyes. He's looking at him like those golden eyes are looking into his soul and its too much.

It's too much because Zoro's response is uncharacteristically soft in so many ways. Zoro speaks to him like he's speaking with reverence, "Your eyes are beautiful."

Sanji shatters on the gallery floor there. His soul is bare for Zoro to see suddenly and that terrifies Sanji. Nobody has ever told him he's beautiful. Especially his eyes. He yanks his wrist from Zoro's grasp and speed walks to the stove to turn it off and remove the burnt pancake from the pan. He doesnt respond. He cant, not when his heart flutters when it should have been anchored down by rejection.

Then, Sanji walks up to Zoro, grabs onto both his shoulders, pushes him out the gallery door with surprisingly little resistance, and slams it shut. He leans against the door, sliding down until he's sitting on the floor with his head tucked between his knees. His face is burning and his face is probably red like a tomato right now. He stares at the ground with wide eyes and a weirdly giddy feeling in his chest and stomach nearly akin to happiness but also dangerously close to feeling freaked the hell out.

"What the fuck."

[hunterofartemis7]

Adopted by the gods AU pt.13

Athena: OH BULLSHIT! Than how the fuck do you explain that!?

Anticlea: HE WAS TAKEN FROM US!

Athena: *roles her eyes* likely story!

Anticlea: *stands up pissed* you really think that I would abandon my new born son!?

Athena: well if the shoe fits!

Hermes: okay! Why not break this up before this gets out of hand?

Athena and Anticlea: SHUT UP!!

Hermes:😶

Athena: the man I saw throw him off the edge was the same white told you he was dead! Not a single of those men even went down to look for him! And you and your husband BARELY reacted to being told your son was dead so yeah, I kinda believe you tried to kill him!!

Anticlea: it was not!! And as you said, all you saw was a dark figure! They were two completely different people! And we barely reacted because we were just told our son was dead!!

Athena: and how would you know that if you didn’t send him to be killed?

Anticlea: I DIDNT TRY TO KILL MY SON BITCH!

Athena: *slaps her across the face*

Hera: ATHENA!

Hermes: *flies in between them* okay time to break it up!

Athena: he is not your son and he never fucking will be! You abandoned him!

Anticlea: even if I wanted to kill him, which I didn’t, why would I leave the necklace on him giving a VERY clear identifier that he’s a prince!?

Athena: if you were faking that he got kidnapped—

Anticlea: is she always like this!?

The gods: yes

Athena: regardless of the lies you’ve told-

Anticlea: I’m not lying!

Athena: ANYWAY; the matter still stands that you didn’t bother looking for him. If he was actually taken why the fuck didn’t you bother looking and just took the word of the first man who told you he was dead?

Anticlea: are you serious!? We DID look for him! Our guards followed his kidnapper out to the falls when they saw him throw our son off! I believed he was dead because they found no body and what infant can survive that!?

Athena: bullshit they barely looked! I’ve seen Herems look for snacks more than your guards look for Odysseus!

Anticlea: oh and if someone told you they saw your son being thrown off a waterfall you wouldn’t believe it!?

Athena: I wouldn’t have stopped looking until a body was found!

Anticlea: bullshit!

Apollo: she actually wouldn’t.

Hermes: yeah, Odysseus hid in my room for like 4 hours and didn’t tell anyone and Thea bout lost it trying to find him. *notices something* and Thea you probably need to stop while your ahead.

Athena: yeah no, I’m not done.

Hermes: sis please-

Athena: *turns back to anticlea* you might have created him but Odysseus is MY son! I don’t care what you say or what you claimed happened that night!

Hermes: Thea-!

Anticlea: I’m not claiming anything! I know what happened!

Athena: and you weren’t there! I was!! I saw him thrown off the falls, I saw not one of your men actually look for him, and I heard the conversation between you and your husband! You can’t change my mind on this!

Hermes: ATHENA!

Athena: WHAT HERMES!?

Hermes: *points to Odysseus who’s standing in the doorway, having heard the last part of the conversation*

Odysseus:……y..you said you didn’t know where I came from..

Athena:..Odysseus..

Odysseus: you said you didn’t know where I came from and that you just “found me”!!

Athena: ody—

Odysseus: YOU LIED TO ME!! *runs off in tears*

Athena: Odysseus!!

Anticlea: tt, some mom you are

Athena: *punches her in the face and runs after Odysseus*

[daistea]

Hey sweetpea! You are the absolute queen of Mithrun content!

Can you please write a mithrun x femreader where they are in a relationship and attending a boring ball at the palace, but something goes wrong and the situation becomes dangerous. So Mithrun with his hand on her waist, teleports reader to safety without notice, but he doesnt join her (so like he is just sending her off to safety while staying himself) and reader is just there at the safeplace walking in a circle and getting super frustrated at him because she cant know if he is safe or hurt

And when he comes to get her he is like "i didnt want you to get hurt" like it was nothing

And so like fluffy scolding ❤️❤️

haiii! <3 I kept it short and sweet !

Word count: 2,600-ish

Mithrun x FemReader

It was one thing to wonder, another to experience. Countless novels depicted balls and galas within the Northern Continent’s Elven court as glamorous. You recalled one book you read where the young protagonist danced with her enemy, and they touched hands, and ripping their eyes from each other quickly became impossible. You imagined gentle hands on backs, whispers as you danced in more ways than one, and good food. The good food was possibly the most intriguing part of every depiction. 

 Yet, you no longer had to wonder. You had experienced an Elven ball, and the food was not good. 

 “I don’t know what else I expected,” you lied, because you certainly knew what else you expected. In fact, you had an entire list of expectations. That list was slowly dwindling as each moment beneath the chandeliers passed. 

 The candles attached to the chandeliers were not lit with simple fire, but rather magic maintained by the palace servants. As a result, mana lingered in the already stuffy ballroom like an invisible gas. The magic nipped at your arms as if trying to get your attention, to remind you of the sheer power of the Elven court mages. The crowd’s mostly white dresses and tunics reminded you of sea foam. The floors, a shined and tan marble, were the sands the foam stretched across. And it was just as loud, though the sound of laughter and gossip was far less calming than water. 

 Mithrun didn’t even bother asking for an explanation of your words. He knew all too well that you had expectations, since you’d extrapolated each and every one before arriving. Another thing he didn’t bother to do was warn you. 

 “I warned you,” he said. 

 You held a half-eaten cracker between your thumb and index finger. It tasted like mustard and a sad attempt at spice. You were mainly looking for a place to subtly throw it away when Mithrun responded. 

 “You’re a lying liar who lies,” you told him. You had half a mind to give him the task of throwing away the cracker— though he’d most likely just toss it in the corner and cause a mess for an innocent servant to clean up. 

 Mithrun gave you a slow, flat look, “I did, though. You were saying that the food must be good since it’s made by the palace chef. I told you ‘remember the nut cake’ and you insisted that there would be no nut cake at the party.”

 Right. Nut cake was for Elven commoners and hospitality, not elegant galas. Yet, just ten feet away was a table with precisely three nut cakes on fancy stands.

 “That was not a warning,” you informed him. 

 “Then what was it?”

 “A reminder.”

 “A reminder,” he echoed and he glanced at the crowd swaying in the middle of the ballroom. It was an intricate knot. Couples were like strands of yarn weaving between each other until everything would eventually become too tight. Mithrun then looked back at you. Despite the light overhead casting a shine on his hair— freshly brushed, your own handiwork— his eyes still reflected nothing. 

 You returned the look, “What?”

 “Just throw it in the corner,” he shrugged, then continued, “the cracker.”

 “I might try it again, just to see if it’s still bad,” you sniffed. 

 “It’ll still be bad.”

 You chose to ignore him, “Maybe I’ll try that honey candy in the shape of a squirrel over there. You can’t mess up honey, can you? Not even the Elves can mess up a honey flavor.”

 They could, actually. Somehow. You were lying to yourself again. 

 “Or, you could dance,” Mithrun murmured. You looked back at him to find that he’d shifted closer, his head tilted in your direction so you’d be the sole recipient of his voice. Locks of silver curls fell forward and brushed against his cheek and jawline in the exact spots you most enjoyed touching. 

 “I could dance?” You asked, “I suppose I could, but should I? I might just embarrass myself. And I can barely hear the music. And my clothes are a bit tight. And I still have this cracker.”

 “You’re making excuses.”

 You were. 

 “I simply expected more…” you paused as you tried to locate the correct words. “More excitement. Everybody’s just standing around and talking, or dancing in the stiffest and least romantic ways possible.”

 There was a young couple nearby who wouldn’t dare loosen their shoulders. The woman stared beyond his shoulder while he avoided her eyes. Next to them was a couple of vastly differing ages, and the woman was artfully avoiding the too-personal questions lodged at her like spears. Everyone else you could see danced as if the two-step was a business transaction. 

 Mithrun nodded, though the lack of facial expression betrayed that he didn’t share your woes. “These events are mainly political. The nobility use them to make connections and gather information. Himea only throws these events when she wants to know something specific about someone. Or get something done.”

 While Mithrun didn’t mean to, his explanation implied intrigue and drama. An elegant party thrown simply for information, connections, and espionage. If only the nobility were better at being interesting. 

 “Then why were you and Pattadol invited?” You asked. Pattadol had disappeared around an hour ago after spotting someone who, apparently, invented her favorite printing press font. 

 The question was partly a challenge. You knew why the higher-ups in the Canaries were invited, but how they factored into the pursuit of information and power remained a mystery. If Mithrun cared enough, he could serve Queen Himea well with his powers of observation and deduction. Unfortunately, Mithrun did not care enough. His presence seemed to only be a formality. 

 “It’s a formality,” he said. 

 Right. You set the cracker on a passing waiter’s plate, resisted the urge to wipe your fingers on your nice clothes, and instead settled for the edge of a tablecloth. 

 He cared enough to use his skills of observation on you, though, and shifted closer. His shoulder pressed against yours. “You’re disappointed.”

 “It’s just not very fun,” you murmured. 

 “Then let’s dance. Or you can go make friends and gossip.”

 “I don’t know many of these people,” you looked up at him. His good eye was half lidded, almost, and dark as it flickered across your face in search of something. A stretching, pulling, delightful warmth crawled up from your chest and threatened to enter your throat, but you swallowed it down as you continued, “And we’ve never danced in front of other people, especially a crowd like this. We might look odd.”

 He only stared. A further argument sat on the tip of your tongue, yet Mithrun’s good eye flickered up and over your shoulder. His hand went to your waist, and while he wasn’t looking at you, that one touch was enough to shift your mind in a new direction.

 “I mean, it might actually be sweet, us dancing together here,” you mused. 

 When you and Mithrun danced, it was always in the dim— midnights in the kitchen, when he couldn’t sleep and you stayed awake to keep him company. He always buried his face in your hair and held you close as you both swayed. There didn’t need to be music. As with most things, Mithrun danced with all the enthusiasm reserved for painting a fence. Still, he held you, and he enveloped himself in you, and he always had to be talked into letting go when your yawns became too difficult to ignore. Perhaps it would look odd to the Elven court, but perhaps the Elven court needed something odd. 

 “Alright, let's do it,” you continued. You slid your hand onto his arm, the other moving to rest on his shoulder. Yet, he still wasn’t looking at you. His good eye narrowed at something behind you, and his brows furrowed as the corner of his lips twitched into displeasure. The warmth in your chest instantly cooled. “What is it–”

 A scream as sharp as a knife sliced through the air. The laughter and gossip halted. Surprised, a violinist played a wrong note only seconds before the body hit the ground. 

 Your heart wrenched with sickness. Yet, before you could turn around to see what happened, the pressure of Mithrun’s hand on your waist increased and he slid it to the small of your back, yanking you towards him. A split second view of his expression revealed that he was glaring. Someone screamed. Then, another scream followed the first. It became a chorus, with the guard’s heavy footsteps serving as the bass. Someone important commanded the room, but it went ignored in the blooming chaos. 

 For a fourth of a second, you registered the recalibration of your atoms, and a flicker of anger passed through your mana-filled form. Yet, there was no time to scold Mithrun. He never allowed you any time for scolding. 

 The blink of your eyes was over and dim firelight surrounded you. Gone was the expansive ballroom, the chandeliers, and the crowd. The screams were muffled by layers of wall from where Mithrun had teleported you. 

 “Dammit!” You smacked the wall— whose wall it was, you had no clue. It looked like a random guest room on the other end of the palace. That meant it was far from the ballroom. That meant it was far from the chaos. And far from Mithrun, who was probably neck deep in said chaos by then. 

 You made a line to the intricately carved wooden door and grabbed the handle, then turned. Nothing. You tugged. Nothing. You pushed and turned and cursed all at once, but the lock didn’t dare budge. Did Mithrun mean to send you to a room locked from the outside? If so, it was a bit impressive that he could teleport a whole person that far and that specifically, but you’d figure out whether to praise him or not later. For the moment, no amount of cursing or whining would open the door. 

 With a huff and heavy heart, you looked around the room. While the furniture was neat and expensive, there was no clutter. The closet door was open, and the inside was empty. The bed was so perfectly made, with no wrinkles on the blankets, that you wondered if anyone had ever dared sleep in it. 

 At least Mithrun had sent you to an apparently unused guest room. You could hardly stomach the thought of a panicked noble retreating to his room and finding you there. In the hallway, rushed footsteps passed. Guests rambled and theorized while they tried to find suitable hiding places. No amount of eavesdropping revealed exactly what had happened, though. 

 Worry-tinged nausea began to weigh you down. You dared to sit on the edge of the perfectly made bed, and the mattress lightly creaked beneath your weight. Shadows from oil lamps and mage-lights stretched across the floor through the crack beneath the door. Mithrun was not among them, you knew. He wouldn’t run. He would fight the intruder until the end simply because that was what he did. And as much faith as you had in his abilities, sickness still crawled up your throat and weakened your knees. 

 You paced. You laid on the floor. You bonked your head against the wall. You paced some more. The sounds of passing nobility and servants died down, becoming few and far between. While there was no more distant panic from the ballroom, tension still had its cold fingers wrapped around your neck. 

 Anger that you couldn’t— wouldn’t— deny made its home at the forefront of your mind. Mithrun knew you’d be worried, yet he teleported you away despite that. Mithrun knew you could defend yourself, yet he didn’t trust you to stay by his side. Scripts of the imminent reunion began to play. When he returned, you would tell him how stupid it was to teleport you away. You would inform him of your worry and anger. He would most likely say something frustrating without meaning to. Each and every lecture that you structured ended with the mental-image of your lover responding in possibly the most infuriating manner. Even in fake arguments, he won. 

 Hours of that passed. Hours. You were convinced that it was hours. It was hours. Probably. Hours of waiting, fuming, burning like the fires of—

 The door opened and you instantly shot up from your spot on the bed. You’d laid down at some point, by the eighth hour or so, spread out across the now wrinkled covers and most likely burning a hole into the mattress from your heat. 

 Your heart clenched as you registered the familiar figure in the doorway. Usually, you would’ve run into his arms— knocked him down and laid on the floor as you kissed his face and he simply accepted it. 

 Instead, you glared. Mithrun blinked at the sight, his hand sliding down from the doorknob and landing at his side. He was so…

 Every line of your prepared argument melted away. Your body moved without your consent, and you gracelessly scrambled to get off the bed and storm towards him. Mithrun stepped into the room and shut the door. The lock clicked the very moment that you gripped the front of his tunic, “What the hell were you doing?”

 Mithrun looked down at you with his brows only slightly furrowed, as if he was confused why you were even asking that question. “Fighting the assassin.”

  “Assassin?” You gasped. 

 “It happens every year.”

 “Every year?” You clutched his tunic tighter, “There’s an assassin every year?”

 “Did I not mention that?”

 “You didn’t! You certainly did not mention that!”

 “Oh, sorry.”

 He didn’t seem very sorry. 

 “And you—” your tongue tangled as you took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. “You sent me away. You sent me to this room and made me wait for hours—”

 “It’s only been thirty minutes.” Neutral, Mithrun looked up at the clock on the wall. 

 You decided to ignore him. “It felt like hours! Why was there an assassin? What happened?”

 He sighed and closed his eyes, then gently took both of your hands and unlatched your fingers from his clothes. “Someone always gets assassinated at the annual ball. It’s just what happens. The guards cleared the guests out of the room, while Flamela and I searched the area for the attacker. We found him, I kicked him off a balcony—”

 “You kicked a man off a balcony?”

 He opened his eyes and looked at you, “Yes. Anyway, I sent you here to keep you safe. I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

 Mithrun gave the explanation with the same tone one would use for a grocery list. Yet, he leaned in slightly, still holding both your hands, watching you as if looking for something only you were able to give. It was no surprise that he wanted to keep you safe. Yet each time he prioritized you and your safety, your heart threatened to jump out of your chest. 

 “Okay,” was all you could manage to say. 

 “You’re mad,” he observed.

 “Somewhat,” you lied. The urge to grab his face and kiss him was screaming in your ears. 

 “But you’re safe,” he reasoned with a little nod as his hands released yours. “So I’m satisfied. I wasn’t willing to risk anything.”

 You knew. And the expectation coloring his expression betrayed his utter lack of sympathy for your concern. You were safe. When Mithrun wanted something, he tended to get it. 

 “We never got to dance,” you grumbled. 

 He sighed, it was almost a groan, but his arms wrapped around your waist nonetheless. You snaked your arms over his neck and pulled him close. Without music, without a crowd, without the lights and glamor and intrigue, you let the rest of the world melt away. 

[sahmiarlert]

"The Sound of Silence"

Shy sensitive reader

You weren’t invisible. People knew you. Your name appeared in group chats, roll calls, partner assignments—but that was as far as most got. You weren’t the one raising your hand in class or starting conversations in the hallway. You stayed close to your friends, your comfort zone. Being seen wasn’t the same as being known, and you liked it that way… most of the time.

Except when it came to him.

Armin Arlert.

Kind, gentle, golden-haired Armin. He had a softness in his voice that made your heart swell. His eyes lit up when he talked about things he loved—like books or history—and he always took time to help others, even when he looked like he could use help himself. You admired him from afar, noticing the little things others overlooked. The way he twirled his pen when he was deep in thought, or how he would ramble and blush when caught off-guard.

He was everything—flawed, brilliant, beautiful—and terrifyingly unreachable.

Your friends knew about your crush. Of course they did. They teased and nudged, whispered and plotted. “Just talk to him,” they’d urge. You’d always laugh nervously, brush it off with a, "Maybe later…"

But one day, “later” became now. Your friends cornered you during lunch with determined eyes and refused to let you retreat.

“Come on, he’s sitting alone,” Historia whispered, eyes flicking toward a bench beneath a tree where Armin was reading. “It’s the perfect chance!”

Your heart pounded so hard it echoed in your ears. Hands clammy, legs shaky, you hesitated. But you remembered his smile. That gentle smile that made you feel like maybe the world wasn’t so loud, so overwhelming.

So you walked.

And talked.

Stammered, really—but Armin listened. And he smiled. He said your name. He asked you questions in return.

The conversation was short but sweet. You barely remembered what you said, but your cheeks burned the whole walk home. That night, you screamed into your hands, kicking your legs with joy. The happiness was addicting.

Your friends saw the glow on your face and refused to let the momentum stop.

So you talked to Armin again. And again. Each time, you got braver. He was kind, gentle, curious about you. You shared music recs. Talked about your favorite books. He complimented your handwriting once, and you nearly melted into the floor.

Each time you saw him, your heart felt fuller.

Until the day everything changed.

You found him in the hallway after school. Backpack slung over your shoulder, you were already halfway into a smile, your nerves humming with excitement as you approached him.

“Hey Armin,” you said quietly.

He didn’t respond at first. Just rubbed his temples, muttering something to himself.

You hesitated. “Are you okay?”

He looked up, eyes slightly red and tired. “What?”

“I… just wanted to say hi. I—”

“Can you not right now?” he snapped, voice sharper than you’d ever heard it. “I’m just—God—can I have one minute without you-or anyone!- trying to talk to me?”

The words hit harder than they should’ve.

Your lips parted slightly, but nothing came out. You just stood there, blinking, stunned.

“I… I’m sorry,” you whispered.

And you left.

The walk home felt heavier than usual. Each step was leaden. You lied on your bed that night, staring up at the ceiling. At first you tried to think logically, 'maybe he was just stressed and you definitely werent helping by not giving him space.'. But soon, it didnt take long for you to start overthinking. 'You were being too annoying, persistent, he was just being too kind to push you away, you're annoying, constantly bothering him-'

You avoided him after that.

It wasn’t out of anger—it was fear. You didn’t want to be where you weren’t wanted. You’d gone back into your shell, but this time, it felt like home and prison.

Whenever you passed him in the hall, your eyes found the floor. You changed your path to avoid bumping into him. Skipped lunch in the courtyard, took longer routes to class. Your friends noticed, of course. They asked questions, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to explain. How could you, when it all felt so silly?

He probably didn’t even remember.

But you did. Every word. Every syllable. And it echoed.

The silence between you two stretched on for days. Weeks. It gnawed at you, eating at the joy you once felt from your small moments with him.

You missed him. Even if you were never really his to begin with. You missed his smile, his awkward little laugh, the warmth he brought into your day just by existing near you.

But you were too shy to reach out again.

Too scared he’d snap again.

Too scared he wouldn't care.

[ppnuggiexxx]

-> CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO

•| was it truly worth taking his word for it? how does one even enter hell, or was this all some strange cosplayer’s roleplay you happened to get roped in?

•| taglist :: @z4rph1m ,, @theultimatewaffle

        "fine!" as crazy as the whole situation was, you accepted his invitation. how else do you tell the supposed king of wrath no? not to mention the guys name is satan. honestly, if youre lucky these guys might be cosplayers. but the whole situation seemed surreal, the angel seemed too real.

        "follow me," he smiled and grabbed your hand before leading you away. "where are we going?" you questioned. he led you off the mainroad and into a forest, soon getting lost and turned around with the repeated trees. going into a forest you dont know or aren't acquainted with feels like youre in there for eternity. "the first gate of hell is where we're going." he stated.

        gate? what did he by the first gate? how many are there? "what do you mean?" you asked him, not caring that he still gripped your hand in his. his red eyes looked back at you before looking ahead of him again. "hell is gated off into different sections. there are nine gates in total; three of stone, three of brass, then three of iron." he explained.

        "it's to ensure utmost secrecy and security between the worlds. heaven has nine gates as well. though if you were to gaze upon them there would be nothing. its impossible for a human to see the gates unless theyre an angel. its what makes heaven quite hard to find."

        the deeper in he led you, the darker and colder the forest became. your hands went to your forearms and rubbed against them, your body hunching over to try and maintain as much body heat as you could. it almost felt like it was winter despite it being spring.

        ahead a dark cavern appeared into the side of a mountainside. you didnt even know there were mountains in the area. "who's that?" you pointed to a figure waiting around the cavern.

        "chaos. they usually guard outside of the gates. its to ensure any soul taken to hell doesn't attempt to escape." satan explained, saying a brief hello to chaos before entering the cave. "it does get dark and wet fast, so watch out where you step. ill lead the way though so stay close behind me."

        you nodded and glanced at chaos. they were a creature of unknown nature, they werent humanoid in any way yet didnt look like an animal. it was as though they were a clumb of skin, a few eyes sticking out and having a singular hand at the top. bones and blood stuck out from it. its hard to describe a being that made you feel like puking your insides out upon first glance. you turned your head away from chaos quite fast. you didnt want to look at them if you didnt have to.

        "can you tell me more about hell?" you asked and followed after satan, noting how dark it got. your hands stuck out in front of you, catious with your steps in case you run into a wall.

        "what do you want to know?" he asked, walking swiftly down the tunnel.

        "like, about the inside. where in hell are you taking me? is there cities? or is it like how biblical books say it is, a rampant city filled with torture and death?" you asked, curious as to what you would see. its not every day you take a trip to hell after all.

"well, we're going to gehenna. thats where i rule in hell. there are seven different nations, and to get to them you have to go through the gates. gehenna is protected by the first stone gate." he said before stopping in his tracks. "the further down you go, the colder it becomes. the more of a wasteland hell is until you reach abbadon at the bottom. abbadon is hotter than anywhere in hell, its the core of it. under abbadon? im not sure what lies there." he said.

"now, we wont be able to continue walking through. you'll have to crawl. its wet though, so be careful." he warned before taking off his jacket and holding it out to you. you raised an eyebrow at him before taking it and putting it on. "is there water?" you asked. he simply nodded before dropping to his knees and hands, crawling into a small hole. it was hard to see anything but the area itself closed off abruptly into a small crawl space.

who knew hell would be tricky to get to? you soon got on your knees and hands, the stone beneath you slick and cold. maybe you shouldve asked if he had gloves. feeling around for the hole, you had a small idea of how big it was, which wasnt that big at all. you had to keep your head down so you wouldnt hit it on the top of the crawl space.

crawling through felt weird, at random points it felt warm, then cold again. it was a repeated process, and sometimes it felt like something was touching you at certain parts. hopefully it was just the rock and nothing else.

"be careful up here, it gets smaller. you'll have to crawl on your stomach here." satan warned from ahead of you. it was like how people described entering hell to be. being forced to crawl on their stomachs, wriggling like serpents to trespass into hell.

it was hard to move through. your breathing quickening as you wriggled around in the tunnel. just how long was this going to take? how far down is hell? were you even going down, or was it straight? how was minhyeok? it had to of been morning by now, and he would be worried. maybe you shouldn't have came along, maybe you shouldve gone back to minhyeok?

it was too late to turn around now, incapable of moving backwards without knowing where you were going exactly. there had been a few turns through the tunnel. and you couldnt turn your body around, it was too cramped to do so.

"stop...." what was that? you couldnt see where the voice came from, but it sounded right on top of you. "hello?" you called out.

        "stop....moving." it almost sounded as though it was struggling to talk, like their words were forced between harsh breaths. you squinted your eyes and looked around as best as you could, desperate to find where it came from.

        "ignore it." satan called from ahead of you. why? what was it? some sort of mythical creature meant to drag you to temptation? you didnt want to find out, truthfully.

        the tunnel beneath you got slimier, sticking to your hand the further you crawled in. it felt like the stone turned to mush, almost equivalent to fat in a way. you heard a pained groan that didnt come from you or satan. your head tried to look around you, but the tunnel was too narrow. why did the ground beneath you feel oddly like skin?

_______________________________

birds chirped and flew across the sky, city almost a direct copy to any on earth. tall buildings and shops spread around, citizens walking about with their days. the only difference is that they were devils, horns big and visible as satan's. though some had little horns, so little you'd have to squint your eyes to see.

"welcome to gehenna." satan smiled at your expression of awe and wonder. "and welcome to hell." he grabbed your hand again and took you through the streets. it was almost like walking on the red carpet with a celebrity; citizens immediately noticed their king and you beside him. their faces held curiosity yet no ill intent.

he led you towards the largest building in the center of the city. it looked almost similar to a cathedral; stained glass windows covered the outside. it was larger than any you'd seen too. "my nobels and i live here." he explained as though he could read your mind.

        "what are they like?" you asked, a little nervous. you were still wary of the whole 'devil' thing, especially seeing as this seemed as legitimate as it could get. what weirdo shows up randomly to just lead you through a gross and disgusting tunnel into another city? how could a random crackhead explain what chaos was, or the things you saw? not to mention all the devils around you, eyes piercing into the back of your skull. was this just a surreal lucid dream? you didnt even know you could lucid dream.

_______________________________

        loud yells came from inside the room, the sound of complaints and cursing clear as day. satan grinned, waiting a moment before leaning his head against the door. "it seems theyre in an argument," his eyes widened and lit up. he waited another moment before busting the door open, any and all conversation taking place before was stopped.

"your majesty satan!" a blue haired devil announced. he had one horn on the side of his head and eyes similar to satan's, yet his were pink with blue saint peter's crosses. these devils sure like that cross, despite it not being demonic in any way.

        there were six devils in the room altogether, not including satan. one red one, small and squishy with small horns and wings. they had a dopey look on their face. another stood next to the blue haired one, long bangs covered their eyes. their horns were smaller than the others, yet a small red creature sat upon them.

        then a tanned devil with white horns curled over their head, with long white hair and blue eyes. two devils stood the farthest away; one with short hair and a long singular horn. next to him was a devil with three horns, all different colors, long, blonde hair and decked out with the color pink.

        all the devils in the room stood up from their chairs and kneeled before their king. "sitri," satan said to the blue haired devil. he looked up at him, eyes only focused on him. none of the devils bothered to look at you, eyes closed and heads pointed towards to floor.

        "ive found solomon's descendant."

[fisherobsessedmyb]

(sal and larry + little brother reader) oooo well I used to have a lot of nightmares as a kid, and I would have loved to have a sibling to hug, so maybe something about that? lil brother coming crying to them at night and asking to sleep next to them where it’s warm and safe, MAYBE he’s having the nightmares due to the ghosts and demons in the apartment, and they both get a lil mad and go out of their way to find whatever is causing it :)

could be headcanons, or if it’s too short then a small oneshot would also work, but you do you! and yes, you have a life outside of tumblr, take your time! :D thank you!

🔹Sal/Larry older brother hcs!🔹

🔹Sal Fisher/Larry Johnson X M!Younger Sibling!Reader!🔹

🔹CW|nightmares i guess?🔹

🔹Sal and larry would definitely have different approaches to comforting their younger brother after a nightmare🔹

🔹Though both would be caring and helpful🔹

🔹Sal would be able to empathise a lot due to his night terrors and would maybe try to relate by sharing the fact he has his own nightmares🔹

🔹Larry would probably crack a joke or two to cheer his younger brother up, but he'd also listen if that was what he needed🔹

🔹Maybe one particular night their younger brother left his bedroom during the night after a particularly bad nightmare, to find them🔹

🔹And maybe saw them watching tv so he sat inbetween them on the couch🔹

🔹I can imagine Sal asking if hes okay, and why hes up🔹

🔹Which then may lead to either their brother crying remembering the dream, or bottling up those emotions and lying🔹

🔹If he lied, i think larry would pick up on it, along with sal🔹

🔹Larry might pat his back gently, asking something along the lines of"you sure, dude? Youre not usually up this late"🔹

🔹And sal might ask softly something like "you dont have to lie, y/n. Whats wrong?"🔹

🔹Which would lead to their brother admitting he had a nightmare and being visibly more anxious, though he calms down with the comfort of larry and sal🔹

🔹In the case that he just admits that he had a nightmare though, i imagine he'd still be shaken up and maybe tear up a bit, looking down at his hands🔹

🔹Which just might be fidgeting like sals do(a/c:sals hand do fidget/twitch in the game when hes younger!)🔹

🔹He'd be embarrassed, saying quietly something like "i had another nightmare, i dont know why"🔹

🔹His voice may even crack a bit, leading sal and larry to worry more🔹

🔹But i imagine sal would gladly hug his brother(if wanted) without hesitation, sympathising with his brother🔹

🔹Larry would probably pat his back, listening🔹

🔹I imagine theyd be 10x more concerned and sympathetic once their brother describes his nightmare🔹

🔹Given the details, it isnt hard to tell that theyre influenced by the apartments🔹

🔹I imagine larry being pissed, feeling protective🔹

🔹I imagine sal would feel equally as protective, though less angry and more worried🔹

🔹But they'd keep those feelings down for the moment, focusing on comforting him🔹

🔹In either scenario, theyd comfort their brother, and sit with him watching tv until he fell asleep again🔹

🔹Then discuss what to do about it🔹

🔹I imagine they'd continue to comfort their younger brother after every nightmare, while trying to stop them🔹

🔹Sal might sit with their younger brother until he falls asleep🔹

🔹And larry might draw with him until they fall asleep(on his shoulder)🔹

🔹In the end, they'd end up getting rid of their younger brother's nightmares🔹

🔹Though, they'd still stay with him to help them feel safer🔹

🔹I think theyd take turns staying up incase their younger sibling woke up🔹

🔹Theyd always be ready to comfort him when he wakes up, even if he didnt wake up from a nightmare🔹

A/n:i wasnt sure how to end this lol but i hope this is ok, anon! Brains a lil funky lately o.0 n ive been busy so it was harder 2 come up w/ stuff but yk :) hope ya enjoy, it was fun writin! happy reading!