#how SHE would react but never did she think she’d have to break this kind of news and that was even IF her missing father returned himself

[mochi-kitty]

No because do yourself a favor and Don’t imagine Helen waking up one morning and grabbing the paper from the door and dropping her coffee mug onto the floor. Don’t imagine her reading the headline FLASH MURDERED over and over, reaching for the phone to call Bart to ask what the hell happened to Wally, only to read the first few lines and it’s Bart… Bart took on the Flash costume. Bart was killed. No one called her. There’s a huge funeral, all of his hero friends and hundreds of others will attend. They outed his civilian identity. It’s miles away and no one knows that she’s Max’s daughter; the daughter of the man who taught Bart what he knew. No one called her. She doesn’t know anyone who would know to call her.

Don’t imagine her dropping to the floor and hugging a confused Dox to her chest. Don’t imagine her sobbing for her missing father and the death of the little chaos whirlwind she’d come to love.

[andrastepls]

A/SMR.

synop: reader lost her hearing after an explosion, simon has an idea to help her ‘hear’ him again

warnings: none i think ? canon typical violence & loss of hearing maybe knda spicy

not proofread we die like men

Adjusting to life without sound had been a trial on its own. It was something no-one really prepared for — silly as it seemed, now. Bombs and guns going off right next to a person for any amount of time was bound to cause damage at one point or another. Or, maybe, she just had shit luck.

The blast had come and gone so quickly, she had no time to react. No one did. It missed anything vital, but it had sent her rocketing into a wall; promptly breaking her arm, a few ribs, and rupturing her eardrums all in one fell swoop. If nothing else, recovery went relatively smoothly. As smoothly as it could have, at any rate, what with Soap and Gaz being absolutely glued to the chairs in the infirmary. Even getting kicked out a few times — luckily, Price and the Lt. were a little less chaotic. Be it because the medic on-site had a soft spot, or because Simon had intimidated the poor guy, he had been allowed to spend the first two nights in the infirm with her.

Being tucked away in his arms did wonders for her anxiety, but the cot was a bit small for him alone, let alone the pair of them. Blessedly, she had been given the okay to return to her own quarters after that.

A few months later, and her bones were good and well healed, but her ears were another story. The specialist kind. The off-duty kind. The waitlist was long, and going home, alone, in the quiet, sounded like her own personal hell. So, she stayed on base to wait it out.

The silence was her enemy, deafening in its lack of any and everything. She swore she could forget the music the world made in a moment without it. It was cold, void and lonely. Missing out on jokes, not ever hearing the booming shouts and laughter of the boys. Sounds she never thought she’d miss.

It didn’t go unnoticed. For all his grumbling and brooding, Ghost was terribly good at being good company. She was thankful for him, at least. Perhaps now more than ever. He was . . . oddly tentative of her. Making a point to brush a hand against her when he was near, what was previously a hovering palm near her back was now an open-handed reminder someone was there.

He made learning to sign feel so much easier. Subbing out some signs for military signals. A natural transition, when the other person knew how to speak it — even when he didn’t need to.

It was a kindness done solely for her benefit; a fact in which he would never admit, but she knew it to be true nevertheless.

• • •

She felt out of practice. Clumsy and uncertain of herself when he touched her, nothing like herself, and he noticed. He pulls back from her, hands curving through the space between their chests to say, “You okay?”

She swallows, looking away. Embarrassment flushes her cheeks a shade of maroon, the heat of it crawling up her neck.

“It’s not you.” she signs back after a beat, eyes finding his with nothing short of pleading in her irises, “I miss you. But the sound - ”

Lithe hands flop into her lap. She feels . . . inadequate. Incomplete. Hateful, to herself, knowing that she can’t be who he loved first anymore, “I miss hearing you.” it was a cruel thing for the universe to do to her; give her a man to fall in love with, a voice that lulled her to sleep, filled her heart, tightened her legs — and then take it away from her. Leaving her in this muffled prison.

He makes a face at that - not one of ill intent or anything of the sort - rather, one of confusion. She missed hearing him?

He never thought his voice to be something worth missing; though, he quickly understands when his mind wonders what never hearing her again would be like. His girl is quieter now, to be sure. But he can still hear her - the little noises she makes, when she hums to herself without noticing . . . among other noises . . .

There’s a moment where he stays still, only his eyes moving between the two. She’s about to lift her hands so say something else, but he promptly cuts her off by taking one of her wrists between his fingers. Encouraging her to open her hand and bringing her palm up to rest around his throat.

She pauses, wide eyes blinking between their hands and his face — that frustrating little smirk of his curling his lips upward at the corners. She can’t make sense of what he’s doing at first, canting her head to the side like a confused dog, and then, he hums. The sound vibrating against her fingers. Her jaws drops open slightly in shock, eyes locked between her hand and his mouth, wanting to say ‘again’.

Alas, he was a step ahead of her, and mumbles out her name in a breath. Feeling her name in his throat before reading it on his lips.

Hm.

A/N: i dont know its 1am !!

[leaawrites]

Exam Season

Liam Gallagher x fem!reader

Summary: Uni can be stressing, and when Liam starts teasing her, it can get messy

Warnings: fluff, friends to lovers, stress because of exams, uni,

Wordcount: 1.2k

Masterlist

“You still stuck on that shit?” Liam asked as he saw her hunched over the papers laid out in an organized chaos.

He had left two hours ago to go out to lunch with Peggy, leaving her to her studies. Upon his return he expected her to be sat on the sofa, watching some mindless show on the telly. Papers and studies left behind.

But no, she was still working. Sentences marked in all kinds of colours, laptop sitting open beside her. Three pages already done, two more to go.

It wasn’t always like this, she wasn’t usually stuck on uni this long, but this was important. This was worth half of her final grade.

“It’s not shit, it’s important,” she said, rolling her eyes as Liam looked over her shoulder. Trying to identify the messy hand writing on the edge of the paper.

“What’s important ‘bout it?” He asked again, swiftly pulling out a chair from beside him and settling down next to her. “It’s just Uni stuff.”

“It’s not,” she tried arguing again. “This is my future.”

“Since when did your studies become that important?”

Being friends since childhood, he knew that she wasn’t the type to start working early or do extra credit. They had spent countless nights together, trying to finish a paper in time or studying for a test. He never cared about it as much as she did, but he liked seeing her so determined to finish something last minute. He liked spending time with her.

So when Oasis started getting bigger and she needed a place to stay during her uni years, he didn’t have to think twice when he proposed the idea of them moving in together.

She had her peace and quiet when he was on tour or in the studio, and when he was home, he didn’t have to feel alone.

“I care about my education, alright? Is that such a bad thing? Just because yours is shit, doesn’t mean mine has to be too,” she busted out, slamming her pen down on the table with her head hanging low. Breathing deeply.

Silence came between them like a wall, his shocked face looking at her like she grew a third head. He knew how she could get when something wasn’t working the way she wanted to, but her outbursts have never before been directly towards him.

“Someone clearly woke up on the wrong side of the bed today,” Liam muttered before standing up, leaving the chair at it’s place like he was planning on coming back. But he didn’t. And with the time passing, she noticed what she’d done.

At first the anger and annoyance still radiated through her veins, though by the time they usually ate dinner and she heard him pacing round the kitchen, preparing his meal, she knew that her words held meaning to him.

Cursing herself for acting the way she did, she slowly stood up. Creeping towards the kitchen with quiet steps and leaning against the wall to watch him handle the noodles in the pot by himself because it was the only thing he could cook, guilt started creeping up the back of her neck.

She watched him for a moment longer, silently praying that he would turn to her and laugh at her face for looking so sad, but he didn’t. He didn’t even acknowledge her presence in the slightest.

“I’m sorry,” she finally said, breaking the silence between them and receiving a quiet hum from him. He heard her, but he expected more than two words. “I shouldn’t have reacted that way, it was very insensitive.”

Liam still stood with his back to her, not saying a word. Steering the noodles and watching the water cook.

“Liam,” she said again, trying to get his attention. But he didn’t budge, didn’t even look her way. “I didn’t mean it like that, alright? You’re smart in your own way and life is not about education. But this grade is really important to me and I’m already more behind than usually and it’s all just stressing me out. I’m sorry that I said what I said.”

Walking closer to him, she wrapped her arms around his waist. Feeling him stiffen beneath her touch, she smiled, knowing she had his attention now.

Mumbling against the back of his shirt, “I’m sorry. Please talk to me.” She felt his breath falling in deeper than normally. Goosebumps forming on his arms at the feeling of her lips against his back.

This wasn’t new, living together and fighting more than once a year, they had spent hours together hugging. But this felt different. This felt more intimate.

Noel’s words echoing in his mind, “You fancy her mate, stop being such a knob about it.” He would tease him every time he saw them together. At family dinners when she was indulged in conversation with Peggy or at Christmas when he watched her tear apart the wrapping of the gift he got her.

And fuck, yes he did. It was something he never acknowledged the way he should’ve over the years, but now, he couldn’t help the way his head was thinking. He liked her, he really did. Not in a ‘teenage crush’ way, but in a ‘I want a future with you’ way.

Stepping aside to lose her arms from around him, he took out two plates from the cupboard, dividing the portions equally and taking them over to the couch table. Telly already on. Getting the ketchup from the fridge, she followed him, a small smile etching on her face.

“You made dinner for me even though I yelled at you?” She asked, seeking validation rather than confirmation.

“Of course, couldn’t have you starving when you’re working this hard for that grade,” he said, finally looking over at her as she sat down next to him. His gaze flying over her face.

“So you’re not still mad at me?” She tried again, hoping to get his trust back.

“As if I could stay mad at you for long when you look this pretty,” he said nonchalant, looking ahead at the telly. Not catching sight of her eyes widening at his words.

Liam had always been straight forward, but this was new. This felt true.

“You think I’m pretty?” She pushed him further.

“The prettiest,” he answered, looking back at her. Turning his head he only now realized that she moved closer to him. Faces inches apart. Breath fanning down on his face.

And with her this close, he couldn’t help himself but move his hand up to her cheek. Nudging her closer if she wanted to. And she did. Fingers tangling into the collar of his shirt, she pulled his face upwards, laughing quietly before connecting their lips.

“You’re such an idiot,” she mumbled against his lips, not quite ready to fully pull away from him just yet.

“Yeah, but yer love it,” he said back, smiling smug before being pulled back against her lips.

[youngsadlesbian]

hellooo how are you? i just read your most recent fic and got obssessed omg its so cute😩😩 a while after reading it, i had an fic idea but im not a writer, so im just passing it to you bcz i liked your writing so bad, pls honor me✋😔

what abt a fic where r is nat and bucky daughter and she has a bit of the super soldier serum and that obviously made her kinda 💪 yk? and when she's at school some girlies are falling so hard over her. you could write it over the years, like when she's 6-7 and a girl wants to hold her hand on the school break, walk around and kiss her cheek, super cute omg😭 when she's 10-11 a girl gives her chocolate and a flower and r would be so confused omg i just feel it. and of course, at 14-15 she starts to like a girl and she would be so-- like idk just imagine her coming back home after a day at school smiling and telling nat abt that girl, and nat convinces her to ask the girl out, so she takes r to buy something for the girl (idk what, i never asked someone out💔💔) and later they could date or not, ill let if for you.

omg that's so long im sorry, but pls pls do it😭😭🙏 ill be waiting so anxious for this

STRONGER HEARTS

pairing: bucky barnes x natasha romanoff x daughter!reader

summary: being the daughter of two superheroes wasn't easy, especially when you ended up inheriting a bit of your father's super soldier serum. and especially for drawing attention from other kids, even when you didn't quite understand what that meant.

a/n: idk if this turned out exactly how you wanted, but i tried my best while taking advantage of my free time at work and my burst of creativity. hope you like it, dear <3

word count: 2,6k

warnings: none, just fluff.

It started early, this whole thing about you being... different. Not just in the way your parents, Natasha Romanoff and Bucky Barnes, were literal superheroes with more than enough stories of their own to tell. No, it started with you.

You were only six years old, and already things were starting to get confusing. Not because of school—math was math, recess was recess—but because of the way other kids, especially the girls, looked at you.

You were at recess, standing by the jungle gym, when it happened. A girl named Lily, the same age as you, came bouncing over with a big smile.

"Hi!" she chirped, her blonde pigtails bouncing.

"Hi," you said, glancing at her curiously.

Without hesitation, Lily reached out and grabbed your hand, holding it tightly.

"Come on! I want to walk with you around the playground. You’re so cute!" she declared, pulling you along.

You blinked, not quite sure how to react, but you didn’t resist either. You didn’t mind holding her hand, even if you didn’t fully understand why she wanted to. As you strolled around the playground, Lily kept looking up at you with an expression you couldn’t place. Every so often, she’d giggle and give your hand a squeeze, like holding it was some kind of special prize.

At one point, she stopped and kissed your cheek before running off with a squeal. You stood there, completely bewildered.

Later that day, you told your mom what happened.

"Mom, why did Lily hold my hand all recess and kiss my cheek?" you asked, still confused by the whole thing.

Natasha laughed softly, crouching down to your level. "Well, sweetheart, sometimes people like being close to others they find... cute. Maybe she thinks you're special."

"Special?" you scrunched your nose. "Why?"

"Because you’re you," Natasha said with a smile, ruffling your hair. "You’re going to have that effect on people."

You didn’t fully understand at the time, but you would soon learn that having an effect on people was something that followed you everywhere.

By the time you were ten, you were starting to notice that your classmates were behaving a little strangely around you. Particularly the girls. They were often staring at you, smiling shyly when you walked by, and sometimes even blushing. But the most confusing moment came on Valentine's Day that year.

You were at school, sitting at your desk, when a girl named Emily approached you, her cheeks bright red. In her hands were a small bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates.

"Uh... these are for you," she said, looking like she was about to explode with embarrassment.

You stared at the items she was offering, completely perplexed. "Why?"

Emily blinked, clearly not expecting that response. "Because... I like you?" she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

You frowned, still not understanding. "You like me? Like... as a friend?"

She hesitated, then shook her head. "No, like... I like like you."

Now you were even more confused. "What does that mean?"

Emily blushed even harder, pushing the flowers and chocolates into your hands before darting off. You sat there, staring at the gifts, completely dumbfounded. What were you supposed to do with them?

Later that evening, you brought the chocolates home, placing them on the kitchen table in front of your dad, who was reading the newspaper.

"Dad, what does it mean if someone gives you flowers and chocolates because they 'like like' you?" you asked, your face a picture of confusion.

Bucky lowered the paper, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a grin spread across his face. "Ah, the old 'like like' situation, huh?" He leaned back in his chair, clearly amused. "It means she has a crush on you."

You blinked. "A crush?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "She thinks you’re cute and probably wants to spend more time with you."

You stared at the chocolates in your hand, still trying to wrap your head around it. "I don’t get it. What am I supposed to do?"

Bucky chuckled and ruffled your hair. "Don’t worry about it, kiddo. Just be nice, and let her down easy if you're not interested."

You still didn’t fully understand what had just happened, but you nodded anyway, trusting your dad's advice. But this wasn’t the last time you’d find yourself in confusing situations like this.

It wasn’t until you turned fifteen that things really started to make sense. Or at least, you started to make sense of the feelings you’d been having for a while now.

Her name was Chloe, and she was in your class at school. She had bright eyes, a soft smile, and a laugh that made your heart race. Every day, you found yourself staring at her from across the room, completely mesmerized. You’d never felt this way before.

Whenever you were around her, you’d get flustered, your words tumbling over each other. It didn’t help that she seemed to like spending time with you, which only made your crush even worse. By the time you were halfway through the school year, you were completely and utterly obsessed.

"She’s just... so pretty," you sighed dreamily, sitting at the kitchen table one evening after school.

Natasha glanced over from where she was cooking dinner, raising an eyebrow. "Pretty, huh?"

"Yeah," you said, resting your chin in your hands. "Like, really pretty. And smart. And funny."

Bucky, sitting nearby with a book, exchanged a knowing look with Natasha.

"Sounds like someone’s got a crush," Natasha teased lightly.

Your face turned bright red, but you didn’t deny it. "What do I do? I don’t know how to talk to her without sounding like an idiot."

Natasha smiled, walking over to sit beside you. "Maybe you should ask her out."

You blinked in surprise. "Ask her out? You think I can do that?"

"Of course, you can," Natasha said with a shrug. "What’s the worst that could happen?"

You chewed on your bottom lip, thinking it over. "What if she says no?"

"Then you move on," Bucky said, setting his book down. "But you won’t know unless you try."

It was easier said than done, though. Asking Chloe out seemed like the scariest thing in the world. But the more you thought about it, the more you wanted to. So, naturally, you turned to the people who could (theoretically) help: the Avengers.

The next day, you found yourself in the Avengers Tower, nervously pacing around as you waited for some of the team to show up. You’d decided to gather as much advice as possible before making your move.

Tony Stark was the first to arrive, sauntering into the room with his signature smirk.

"So, I hear you need help asking someone out," Tony said, folding his arms. "Lucky for you, I’m a master at this."

You raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Absolutely. Here’s what you do: build her something. Like a mini Iron Man suit. Girls love that."

You blinked. "Uh... I don’t think I can build a suit."

Tony waved a hand dismissively. "Details, details. Just wow her with something impressive. Trust me."

Next up was Thor, who entered with his usual dramatic flair, his hammer in hand.

"Ah, young love!" Thor boomed, clapping you on the shoulder. "The key to winning over a maiden’s heart is boldness! Sweep her off her feet! Declare your feelings loudly and with great passion!"

You couldn’t help but laugh nervously. "I don’t think I should yell at her."

"Nonsense! Nothing says romance like shouting your love from the rooftops!" Thor insisted, his eyes twinkling with excitement.

As more Avengers filtered in, the advice only got more absurd. Clint suggested using arrows to spell out her name in the sky, and Bruce—though more subdued—suggested writing a thoughtful essay about your feelings. You were starting to think none of this was going to help.

It wasn’t until you sat down with your dad, Bucky, that you finally got some real advice.

"So, you’re really into this girl, huh?" Bucky asked, sitting across from you with a serious expression.

"Yeah," you admitted, feeling a little embarrassed.

Bucky nodded thoughtfully. "Here’s the thing: you don’t need to do anything crazy. Just be yourself. Ask her to hang out, maybe go grab some ice cream or something simple. You don’t need fireworks or Iron Man suits. Just be honest."

You looked at him, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. "You think that'll work?"

"I know it will," Bucky said with a soft smile. "She’ll appreciate the real you more than anything."

Taking your dad’s advice to heart, you finally mustered up the courage to ask Chloe out. It wasn’t as dramatic as Tony or Thor would’ve wanted, but it was honest.

"Hey, Chloe," you said one day after school, nervously rubbing the back of your neck. "Do you maybe wanna go get ice cream with me this weekend?"

Chloe’s eyes lit up, and she smiled. "I’d love to."

Your heart skipped a beat when Chloe said yes. For a moment, you were frozen, unable to process that she’d actually agreed to go out with you. But then, slowly, a wide grin spread across your face.

"Great! Um, I’ll text you the details?" you stammered, still trying to keep your cool.

Chloe nodded, her smile warm and genuine. "Sounds good. I’m looking forward to it."

As you walked away, a giddy feeling bubbled up inside you, and by the time you got home, you were practically floating. The moment you stepped into the apartment, you dropped your bag by the door and burst out, "Mom! Dad! She said yes!"

Natasha looked up from where she was sitting on the couch, a knowing smile on her face. "Told you."

Bucky was sitting nearby, his eyes lighting up with pride. "See? Told you all you had to do was be yourself."

You flopped onto the couch between them, still buzzing with excitement. "I’m going to get ice cream with Chloe. This weekend. Can you believe it?"

Natasha chuckled, resting a hand on your shoulder. "I’m happy for you, sweetheart. You did good."

"Now you just have to survive the date," Bucky teased, winking at you.

You laughed nervously. "Yeah… right."

The weekend came faster than you expected, and soon you were standing outside a little ice cream shop, waiting for Chloe to arrive. Your hands were stuffed in your pockets, and your heart was pounding so hard you thought it might burst out of your chest.

When Chloe finally showed up, you felt your breath hitch. She looked even more beautiful than usual, with her hair down in loose waves and a light smile playing on her lips.

"Hey," she said, her voice soft as she approached.

"Hey," you replied, trying not to sound as nervous as you felt. "Ready for some ice cream?"

Chloe grinned. "Definitely."

The two of you went inside, ordered your ice creams, and found a quiet spot by the window. As you sat across from her, the awkwardness you’d feared didn’t show up. Instead, you found yourself talking easily, laughing at her jokes, and feeling more comfortable than you ever thought possible.

"You know," Chloe said after a while, twirling her spoon in her cup, "I’m really glad you asked me out. I’ve kinda liked you for a while."

You blinked, taken aback. "Wait—really?"

Chloe giggled, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Yeah. I wasn’t sure if you felt the same, but… I guess you do."

You felt your face heat up, but this time it wasn’t from embarrassment—it was from happiness. "I do. I really do."

The rest of the date went by in a blur of laughter, smiles, and shared glances that made your heart race. By the time you were walking Chloe back to her place, you were already thinking about the next time you’d see her.

When you reached her doorstep, there was a brief, sweet moment of silence between the two of you. Chloe turned to face you, her eyes soft and warm.

"I had a really great time," she said, her voice gentle.

"Me too," you replied, feeling a little breathless.

There was a pause, and then, without thinking too much about it, you leaned in and kissed her cheek. Chloe’s smile widened, and she gave you a shy wave before heading inside, leaving you standing there with the biggest grin on your face.

When you got home, your parents were waiting, both of them pretending to be casually occupied, but you knew they were dying to know how it went.

"So," Natasha said, raising an eyebrow. "How was it?"

You dropped onto the couch with a happy sigh. "It was perfect."

Bucky smirked. "Told you all you needed was to be yourself. None of that flashy stuff."

Natasha smiled warmly, sitting down next to you. "We’re proud of you. So… is there going to be a second date?"

You grinned, feeling a rush of excitement. "I think so."

Just then, Tony walked into the room, raising an eyebrow. "Did I hear something about a date? Did my advice work?"

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Please, Tony. If she’d followed your advice, she’d be building an Iron Man suit for the next three months."

Tony looked indignant. "Hey, building suits is romantic."

You laughed. "Actually, I didn’t need a suit. I just asked her out, like Dad said."

Tony sighed dramatically. "Ah, young love. So simple and pure. You’ll learn one day, kid."

Over the next few days, the Avengers couldn’t stop teasing you about the date. Clint would randomly shout "Smooth move!" whenever he saw you, and Thor kept encouraging you to "declare your love loudly, as is the Asgardian way!" But in the end, it was all in good fun, and you found yourself loving the chaotic but supportive family you had.

As your relationship with Chloe blossomed, word spread quickly throughout the Avengers Tower. It wasn’t long before all the Avengers were curious about the girl who’d captured your heart.

One day, as you were training with Steve in the gym, he glanced over at you with a grin. "So, when do we get to meet this girl of yours?"

You nearly stumbled over your own feet. "Wait—what?"

"You know," Steve continued, chuckling, "bring her around to meet the team. We’d all love to meet her."

You blushed, feeling a little overwhelmed. "I don’t know… It’s kind of a big step, introducing her to you guys."

Steve gave you a reassuring smile. "Don’t worry. We’ll behave."

You raised an eyebrow. "Will you, though? Because Tony and Thor don’t know the meaning of 'subtle.'"

Steve laughed. "Okay, fair point. But still, she sounds great. I think we’d all like her."

You thought about it for a moment, then nodded. "Maybe soon."

As your relationship with Chloe continued to grow, you found yourself feeling more confident, not just in your relationship but in yourself. Your parents, Natasha and Bucky, were always there to support you, offering advice when you needed it and cheering you on from the sidelines.

One evening, as you sat with them on the couch, watching a movie, Natasha wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close.

"You know," she said softly, "we’re really proud of you. You’ve grown into an amazing person."

You smiled, resting your head on her shoulder. "Thanks, Mom."

Bucky nodded from the other side of the couch, his voice gentle. "We’re lucky to have you."

In that moment, surrounded by the people who loved you most, you realized just how lucky you were. You had a family that supported you, a girl who cared about you, and a future that was wide open with possibilities.

And no matter what came next, you knew you’d be ready—because you had the best parents, and the most chaotic team of superheroes, right by your side.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Wildest dreams, pt. 34.

Summary: Still in shock in light of Y/N's decision, Paul decides to share the burden with Embry. However, the morning takes a turn for the worse.

Warnings: angst, fluff, sexual innuendos, swearing, GRAPHIC depictions of death and blood

Wildest Dreams Masterlist

————————————

Paul stands before Embry and Daisy, the weight of Y/N’s decision pressing heavily on his shoulders. The words feel foreign, even as they leave his lips.

“Y/N said she will join the Cullens.”

“She actually wants to be one of them?” Embry’s voice breaks the tense silence, his hand dragging down his face in disbelief. “Wasn’t she the one that said she would never accept that kind of a life?”

Paul nods, remaining quiet as he collapses in the chair. He has barely spoken since Y/N uttered the words the previous night. The memory of her words sends a shiver down his spine, the intensity of the moment still fresh in his mind. Truth be told, he had no time to react because his body reacted for him. Their bedroom window’s shards can attest to that as well as Embry’s shorts that he barely got over his thighs. 

“Did she say why?” Embry’s question hangs in the air, but Paul remains silent, shaking his head. The sigh that escapes his lips is heavy with unspoken turmoil. He hadn’t given Y/N a chance to explain herself, but her resolve had been unmistakable. It’s what he had begged for, what he had prayed for countless nights. Yet now, faced with the reality of it, he is filled with a sense of dread and uncertainty. If it’s what he’s wanted all along, why is he so distraught over it?

Embry rises from his seat, determination etched on his face. “I should talk to her.”

Daisy’s grip on his hand stops him in his tracks. “I don’t think you’re the one who should be talking to her,” she says gently but firmly. “I’m not sure there’s much to talk about. If she’s made her decision, it’s only a matter of how and when.”

 “She told me she’d never forgive me if I even tried to turn her into one of them,” Paul’s voice is strained, the words coming out through gritted teeth. “This is a result of an emotional night. She probably feels pressured because of the wedding and our vows.”

Daisy’s gaze is unwavering, her voice filled with conviction. “It could also be that she’s had more time to think and inform herself of all the pros and cons of being a vampire. It’s Y/N! When have you known her to make a rash decision? She’s chronically overthinking every fucking thing. I highly doubt she’d say something so heavy without being absolutely certain that’s what she wants.”

Embry rubs his chin, biting his lower lip. “Daisy is right. I hate it, but if this is what she wants, then fuck it. We can figure it out.”

Paul’s frustration boils over, his voice rising. “The very possibility of her being one of them is what brought the death visions I still dream of every night. She won’t be just a vampire; she will be the reason the Volturi come back.” 

“They won’t touch her,” Embry growls, his instincts flaring. Y/N’s been a very big part of his heart for as long as he can remember, and every cell of his being demands her safety.

Daisy's running soothing circles on Embry’s back but it does little to ease the tension. 

She inhales sharply. “I don’t know the Volturi, but I know of them. If they come back, I’m not sure what you can do to survive their attack.”

“Last time, had it been a fight, I wouldn’t have survived,” Paul reminds them. “The only reason I got to live long enough to imprint on Y/N and have this amazing life with her is because we managed to stop the war before it began by proving Renesmee isn’t going to end their species. Y/N is a genuine threat.” 

Bowing his head, Paul covers his face with his hands, his voice breaking. “I want her to live and I want her to be safe, but either choice brings us to the same ending and I don’t know what to do with that.”

“We don’t know why she dies if she remains human,” Embry pulls Daisy closer to him. “All we know it’s by the tree we burned and in a violent manner. If we never let her near the forest, if you guys move somewhere barren, why would we expect her to die? She could be human and you two could live out the rest of your lives in a desert riding camels or something!”

“I don’t think that would work,” Daisy says softly, her voice trembling with the effort to hold back tears. She fears that if she speaks any louder, her voice will break. “If she’s destined to die, it would happen no matter how hard we try to stop it.” 

“Destined to die is a little dramatic, don’t you think?” Jasper chimes in, raising an eyebrow and suppressing a smirk. The three look at him and Alice in shock.

“I can’t see her future anymore,” Alice states begrudgingly, her frustration palpable. “The last of what I saw was her making a choice to be one of us. After that, everything goes dark.”

“Fucking great,” Embry exclaims, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

“You saw it?” Paul stands, his knees shaking but determination fuels his movements. 

Alice nods ever so slightly. “She made her decision walking down the aisle.”

“And she wants me to do it,” Jasper announces cheerily as if it was a trivial matter. 

Paul’s hands form fists by his sides, his scowl deepening. “If anyone is going to do it, it will be Carlisle.”

“Jasper is right,” Alice interjects, her voice firm. “Y/N’s choice is not Carlisle.”

“This is ridiculous,” Paul chuckles dryly, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m going to talk to my wife. She’ll clear everything up and I’ll pack us up to live in the Antarctic if I have to, but I won’t let her do something she didn’t want.”

“But she does want it now,” Alice reminds him gently, her eyes filled with empathy. “With no outside pressure, she chose to take a chance on your love. I don’t see much of her future, but if you storm in there right now all you’ll have is regret because she will get hurt and it will be your fault.”

“I would never lose control with her close by,” Paul huffs.

“You will,” Alice flinches at the certainty of her own words. “She’ll survive this time, but it will leave a gnarly scar on her back.”

Embry steps in front of Paul, pointing to the chair with a firm hand.  “Sit your ass down.”

“I think I’ll be sick,” Daisy murmurs, a hand slapping over her mouth as she rushes to the bathroom.

“Ah, fuck,” Embry mutters, running after her. “Don’t let him leave!” he shouts back.

Groaning, Paul reluctantly sits down, his mind racing. “You can’t see her future and I’m supposed to be fine with that? Even if she was going to die, wouldn’t you see it?”

Alice’s voice is tinged with frustration. “My visions don’t always work well. Especially with the pack.”

Jasper wraps an arm around her, trying to comfort her. “She struggles to accept that.”

“Would you enjoy being hindered by a pack of wolves?” Alice retorts, her eyes flashing with irritation.

Smirking, Jasper shrugs. “I’m superior in that way.”

Before anyone can react, Jasper grunts, doubling over from a punch Paul didn't even see coming. “I deserved that,” he admits, wincing.

“Yes, you did,” Alice chuckles.

“Why did she decide on Jasper?” Paul furrows his eyebrows. “Would Jasper even manage to do it without killing her?”

“I’m not sure,” Alice sighs, her voice trembling with uncertainty.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, love.” Jasper tries to interject some lightness, but the tension in the room remains palpable.

Paul runs a hand through his hair, his mind racing. “I need to talk to her. If I leave now, will I still hurt her?” 

“No,” Alice frowns, her eyes distant. “I don’t...” She pauses, her face suddenly going pale as her gaze fixes on something only she can see. “I don’t see...” 

“Alice?” Jasper grabs her tightly, holding her steady. “What do you see?”

“She’s in the forest,” Alice gasps, grasping onto Jasper’s hand for dear life. 

“Y/N?!” Paul’s voice cracks with raw fear. His heart pounds violently, each beat echoing the urgency in his chest. He can tell something’s terribly wrong; Alice wouldn’t seem so agitated otherwise. Every cell in Paul’s body is itching to shift, to run straight to his imprint, but he doesn’t know where to go.

“She’s not alone,” Alice squeals, her panic contagious.

Grabbing her shoulders, Paul ignores the angry look Jasper shoots him. “Where is she exactly?!”

Alice shakes her head in horror, “I don’t know! I don’t see any clear markings!”

Hearing the commotion, Embry runs back to see what’s happening. 

“Paul?”

“I think it’s happening,” Paul’s eyes are filled with tears as he meets Embry’s worried gaze. “I think she’s going to die.”

Embry’s jaw clenches, his eyes narrowing with determination. “I’m calling everyone. We won’t let that happen.”

“I will,” Daisy insists, her voice steady despite the fear in her eyes. “You and Paul get going. I’ll call Sam, and Emily will help call the rest of them.”

“Babe –“ Embry starts, but Daisy cuts him off.

“Embry, I love you,” she states clearly, “but I need you to go save my best friend.”

Biting his lips, Embry nods.

“We’re coming with you,” Jasper declares, leaving no room for argument.

Paul and Embry shift almost instantly, their forms blurring as they leave the house in a rush, filled with shared desperation that’s driving them to find Y/N before it’s too late. 

Paul’s heart feels like it’s being squeezed in barbed wire. The thought of Y/N out there, alone and in danger, fills him with dread so profound it nearly paralyzes him. He can feel the bond they share, but he can't feel her emotions. She could still be safe and that thought alone is giving him strength to keep going, guiding him through the forest. He can’t lose her, not now, not ever. The fear of losing her to the very fate he’s been trying to prevent for so long is a weight that threatens to crush him, but he pushes on, driven by love and complete terror. 

“I’ve already told our family,” Alice tells Daisy. “We’ll all be out there.”

Holding back tears, Daisy sniffles as the vampires leave, the house now eerily empty. “I just hope it’s enough,” she whispers, her voice a fragile thread of hope in the overwhelming tide of fear.

FINALE

[glossamerfaerie]

ACOTAR characters and the solar eclipse

Cassian: stares directly at the hidden sun without protective glasses, the dummy.

Nesta: whacks Cassian for his stupidity. She is unamused by her mate tackling her into his arms and flying straight into the clouds. Once she stops scowling and struggling, Nesta is quietly awed by how beautiful the sky looks. They spend the next few hours in the skies, flying north and following the eclipse’s path to the Illyrian mountains.**

Gwyn: hangs out in the training ground with her fellow priestesses, Emerie, and Azriel. Cassian had grabbed Nesta in the middle of training, and everyone else had agreed to pause their drills to admire the sky. While the priestesses and Emerie chatter amongst themselves, Gwyn notices that Az has removed himself from the group and is standing near the weapon rack. Gwyn approaches Az, teasing him that as a Shadowsinger, the eclipse is a triumphant moment for the shadows to come out and conquer the training ground. A puzzled Az asks what she means. Gwyn shrugs, explaining that she’d noticed that the shadows avoid direct sunlight and stay away during morning training. She’d only ever seen them at night or inside the house, you see. At these words, the shadows cautiously exit the House of Wind — but they don’t swarm the darkened training ground like Gwyn expected. Instead the shadows stay close to Gwyn for the duration of the eclipse. Gwyn laughs in delight and pretends to bat them away in jest. When the returning sunshine marks the end of the eclipse, the shadows don’t disappear into the safety of the house. To Az’s shock, the shadows hover around Gwyn for the rest of training, seemingly immune to their fear of sunlight for the first time ever.

Feyre, Rhys, and Nyx: Feyre has ensured that Nyx can’t take off his protective glasses by accident, taping them securely to the back of his head. When the eclipse starts, Nyx gets very upset and starts bawling — not because he’s scared of the dark, but because this has never happened before and it’s scary. Feyre quickly uses her Day Court power to light up her body, distracting Nyx and providing a source of light. When that doesn’t quell the crying, Rhys comes over and does his Night Court blanket of darkness trick, coating the River House with his power and stars. It’s still dark, but Nyx is familiar with this kind of darkness and stops fussing. 🥹

Elain: watches the eclipse in her garden. Alone. When the sun disappears, Elain suddenly, desperately, irrationally wishes for Luci sunshine. She wishes for sunshine, nothing else. Elain is relieved when the world goes back to normal an hour later, chalking up her pesky thoughts to temporary insanity and sun deprivation.

Helion: there’s no solar eclipse in the Day Court, duh. The Prythian path of totality has a random break between the Dawn and Night courts. Even science and gravitational physics have to obey the court borders, obviously. Rhys did invite Helion to view the eclipse in Velaris, but Helion declined. He’d attended a previous eclipse centuries ago and felt his magic wane during the phenomenon; while beautiful to witness, Helion has no desire to experience that vulnerability again after Amarantha’s imprisonment.***

————

I wrote this out very quickly and missed some folks — I’d love to know how you think the characters would react! Wanna add your own take? Feel free to reblog or comment. ☀️🌄☀️

** Yes, I know the eclipse travelled southwest in the real world, but let’s pretend it can go north. I don’t know if that’s possible with science 😭

*** Idea shamelessly stolen from Avatar: The Last Airbender 😅 Hey, it makes sense!

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

HELLO I HAVE ARRIVED WITH MY REQUEST! HERE I GO!

I’ve been kinda thinking about this one recently and I don’t think this will be a “X Reader” thing but I wanna know how Alastor’s Mother found out that he had died, also including that she found out that he was a serial killer, I feel like she would be devastated but I feel like she’s the type of mother to still love her son even though he had killed people, so to put this together what was her reaction when alastor died / killed people? what did she do?

Thank you! I hope this isn’t to confusing, feel free to decline this request if it’s to much but just DM me if you do so anyways so I know, 谢谢 (:

I love this question because I’ve thought and read about it so many times, so im glad to finally be sharing this with people!! I kind of always felt like Alastor’s mother would die before him, so he wouldn’t have to face her, but in the case scenario that he did, I think it’d be a bit hectic.

Reacting to The News of His Death

Alastor’s mother would receive the news of his death first. The initial reaction would likely be one of profound shock and grief. She might be at home, going about her daily routine, when a knock on the door interrupts her. A police officer or a neighbor might deliver the tragic news.

Immediate Grief: She would be devastated, overwhelmed by the sudden loss of her son. The house would fill with her cries of sorrow, the sound of breaking glass as she drops whatever she was holding in shock.

Denial and Disbelief: In the following hours and days, she might experience disbelief, clinging to the hope that there was a mistake, that Alastor was still alive somewhere.

Then there’s Learning About His Crimes

The revelation of his crimes would come shortly after, perhaps through police investigation or media coverage, either way she’d definitely find out what he did. This could go one of three ways I feel like:

Initial Shock: The first news of his criminal activities would hit her like a second wave of grief. The realization that her son led a double life as a serial killer would be almost incomprehensible.

Denial: She might refuse to believe it at first, convinced that there was a mistake, that her son was being falsely accused.

Acceptance and Sorrow: As evidence mounts, she would have no choice but to accept the truth. The acceptance would bring a different kind of sorrow—a mourning not just for his death, but for the loss of the son she thought she knew.

Then there’s the factor that I feel like everyone thinks about the most, especially since Alastor is a momma’s boy: A Mother’s Unconditional Love

Despite the horrific nature of his crimes, her love for him would remain. This love would be complex and fraught with internal conflict and a lot of questions on her end. This could be rough for her, and though from what I’ve read she seems to be a kind hearted woman, I feel like she’d feel like she’s partially to blame for it.

Remembering the Good: She would cling to memories of Alastor as a child—the sweet moments, the times he showed kindness and affection. These memories would provide some solace, even as she grapples with his dark side.

Rationalizing: She might try to rationalize his actions, looking for explanations in his past, in their family history, or in his personality. This could be a way to make sense of the senseless. She would feel like this is because of his father’s absence, or her lack of parenting skills and how she feels like she could’ve been a better mother to him. That maybe she went wrong somewhere and that this isn’t his fault but her’s.

Secret Support: Even though she couldn’t condone his actions, she might secretly still feel protective of his memory, hoping to shield his name from complete disgrace. He is still her son, and though he’s done horrible things in her mind he’s never been a violent man.

Coping and Moving Forward

In the aftermath, Alastor’s mother would have to find a way to move forward, bearing the heavy burden of his legacy. I feel like this would affect her day to day life. People would stare at her awkwardly, she’d have the reputation of birthing a monster, and would most likely be shunned out from society. Or people would feel bad for her for having a ‘sick’ child and never knowing, or just feeling so awful for her and pitting her because she’s related to such a ‘monster’.

Private Mourning: Her grief would be largely private, as she might face ostracism from the community or even her own family.

Visiting His Grave: She would likely visit his grave regularly, talking to him as if he could hear her, seeking some form of closure.

Acts of Redemption: She might engage in charitable acts or community service, trying to bring some light into the world to counteract the darkness of his actions. This could be her way of coping with the guilt and sadness.

[jazzsonly]

౨ৎ blurb. ౨ৎ

ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ.

pairing(s): natasha x gn!reader

warning(s): angst. unfinished story.

summary: uhhh

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A week and half.

That’s how I’ve been avoiding Nat and I was going to keep avoiding her.

I couldn’t face her.

Not after how I reacted when she’d told she wanted to marry Bruce.

Not after I found how just how much he held her heart in the palm of his hands.

Lately I’ve been taking more mission just to make it easier to avoid her, though I’m not sure she were even looking for me considering she was back with booger boy.

The same man who dropped Carol after she refused to have sex two weeks into the relationship.

What an ass.

It were even worse that I was here sitting at a bar at one Tony’s parties and I knew Natasha would walk in here with booger on her arm, smiling her temporary smile.

God, I downed my second of drink of the night at the thought.

“Come on. You can mope around forever, dance with Steve and I.” Bucky who now leaned again the counter next to me spoke.

“I’d rather sit here and drink my sorrows away.” I stare into my empty glass as I reply to him

He pulled my arm causing me to stumble up from my seat, “What kind of friend would I be if I let you do that?”

“A good one.” I utter to which he chuckled continuing to pull me to the dance floor where Sam did the worm and Steve laughed at him.

“Lighten up for one night.” Bucky pleaded and I mange a sigh, fleeing a fake smile.

“Fine. I’ll pretend to be joyful but first I need another drink.” I pat his shoulder, heading back to the bar.

I threw a 20 down asking the tender for two shots of vodka to which he placed two empty glasses before me, pouring the substance into them.

I thanked him before downing them and turning to search for Bucky but instead I was met with a particular red head that stood in my view staring up at me.

I gulp.

“You’re better at avoiding than I thought. I couldn’t find you for weeks.” Her tone bitter and her stare cold.

“I’ve just been busy with mis—

“bullshit I talked to Steve and he told me you practically begged him for missions.” She interjected.

“Shouldn’t you be with Bruce? Dancing the night away.” This time my tone was bitter.

“Yeah I should but you’re more important right now. I wanna know what’s bothering you.”

Usually my heart would jump at her saying I’m more important than Bruce but I think I’d given up hope for her.

“Nothings bothering me Natasha. I’ve gotta go, Bucky’s waiting on me.” I try to move past her and she grabs my wrist, dragging me in the direction of the door.

Once we were outside I pulled my wrist from her grasp.

“Did I do something?” She asks, well more of a demand in the form of a question, saying ‘tell me why you’re avoiding me’

I shoving my hands into my pockets, “liste—”

Before my sentence had even begun it ended due to Bruce appearing from the door.

“There you are,” he pulled her into his embrace kissing her (clearly drunk and only wanted one thing.)

“Hey, can we talk later I’m dealing with something right now.” She referred to me and he groaned.

“You guys can talk I’m gonna,” I gestured to the sidewalk behind me.

“Y/n.” She pleaded.

“No nat. I can’t. How could I be so stupid? You love him,” I finally break, the sight of his hands on her waist getting to me. “You would never even look my way.”

“And it’s something I don’t get because I’m so good to you and he treats you like you’re nothing but you’re everything, everything and more.”

[mystic-bookshelf]

Mistletoes are stupid, Ch. 1

AO3

This is my Secret Sant fic for the lovely @omnoramayday !! I'm so sorry this took so freaking long, Merry Christmas and a happy new Year!!

Summary: An incident with a mistletoe makes Marinette leave the Christmas party at Adrien's house. She can find better ways to spend her night, for example delivering pizzas with her favorite pizza delivery person…

If Marinette had known the night would turn out like this, she would‘ve never come to this stupid party.

But there she was, standing in the middle of the room, regretting just about every life decision she had ever made as Adrien stood in front of her, anxiously biting his lips. Behind her, Alya quietly chanted, “now kiss!“ sounding entirely too proud of herself.

Annoyed, Marinette turned around to see her equally too proud grin. „Why are you like this?“

„You‘re standing under the mistletoe.“ She shrugged. „And then everything will work out from there. Come on, it‘s your duty!“

Alya turned her friend around with a spin and gave her a little push, causing her to crash into Adrien. Luckily, he reacted quickly enough to catch her, holding her by the shoulders.

„Uhm… so…“ He probably would‘ve scratched his neck if he had a free hand. 

Please say no. Please say that you feel sick or something. Anything.

„Let‘s just get this over with, okay?“

„Are you kidding me?“ she hissed. Adrien just gave her a shrug and leaned in. „It can just be a peck, right?"

„I don‘t want that.“ Marinette pleaded and Adrien gave her an apologetic look. 

„But… we have to.” He sounded extremely nervous. “Lots of people are watching, we can’t just not do it?“

Things happened very quickly afterwards. Marinette didn‘t really fully register shoving Adrien away from her, or how Alya yelled something like “what in the world are you doing?”, or how she ran through the crowd, crashed into a few people on her way, mumbled apologies they probably didn‘t hear and only stopped when she reached the door and ran outside into the garden of the Agreste mansion.

Since Gabriel had been exposed as Monarch, he had lost custody over his son, amongst other things. Nathalie became his legal guardian, and as she wasn‘t controlling over him, Adrien used this new found freedom to have friends over at his mansion quite frequently. Nobody had been surprised when he had given out invitations to half of the school for a Christmas party.

Marinette had looked forward to it, like everyone else, but with her luck, she should‘ve known something like that would happen. She let out a sigh and leaned against the wall.

„Marinette, aren‘t you cold without a jacket?“

She looked up to see Mylene approach her, followed by Ivan. She gave the couple a weak smile and a shrug. „I‘ll manage.“

„You look… stressed.“ Ivan commented. „Did something happen?“

„Alya happened.“ she replied, crossing her arms in front of her chest. „And Adrien. And a mistletoe.“

Now that she thought about it, weren’t mistletoes so stupid? What did these dumb twigs think, trying to dictate who should make out with who? Oh, if only she could make a wish with her and Chat noirs miraculouses, she’d wish for the mistle toe tree to go extinct in exchange for some plant that didn’t force her to kiss other people.

Mylene and Ivan both looked at each other, then back at Marinette. Judging by their faces, they didn‘t need further explanation.

„I‘m sorry, Marinette. That must‘ve been… awkward.“ 

„Yeah well, I‘m no stranger to awkward situations. It’s kind of my trademark at this point.“ Marinette said. 

Mylene stepped closer to her and gave Marinette‘s shoulder a gentle squeeze, then running her hand up and down her arm. Marinette appreciated the gesture and gave her friend a warm smile.

„I sometimes have the feeling that Alya took our break-up with Adrien harder than me and him,“ She said after a while. 

Mylene chuckled. “Well, she was the most invested of all of us. You‘ve seen it yourself.”

“I know, and it’s not like I didn’t accept help at first. But now that we’re exes who’re finally at a point of being somewhat normal around each other, it’s just...” She looked up at the night sky, which was mostly covered with thick clouds. There were only a few small gaps through which some stars sparkled. “It’s just so embarrassing. And Alya doesn’t understand.”

“It’s none of her business,” Ivan commented. “She doesn’t have a right to meddle if you told her not to.”

“Well, I didn’t directly tell her that,” Marinette admitted. “I just assumed we’d be done with all that. I just want to do things on my own without any outside forces! I want things to happen naturally and confess my feelings on my own terms, is that really too much to ask for?”

Mylene and Ivan exchanged curious looks.

“... confess your feelings to who?”

Marinette's eyes grew wide and she clasped her hands over her mouth. 

“Who do you think she’s talking about,” Ivan laughed. “There’s only one person she could have a crush on.”

“I don’t have a crush on Luka!”

“... I didn’t say Luka’s name.”

Marinette groaned and hid her entirely too hot face in her hands. Ivan’s and Mylene’s chuckle made her wish the ground would just swallow her up.

“Don’t worry, we won’t tell Alya,” Mylene promised. “Or anyone else for that matter.”

Maybe she shouldn’t be surprised that Mylene and Ivan would know about her feelings for Luka. She was never exactly subtle about romantic feelings in general, and the increased hours she had hung out on the house boat, their constant flirting, their frequent one on one time probably have been strong indicators.

After her break-up with Adrien, he had been there to be a shoulder to cry on and cheer her up with pretty melodies on his guitar. That’s just the kind of guy he was. It was really only a matter of time before she developed feelings for him again. Or the ones she had in the past never really went away and just resurfaced, she wasn’t actually sure. Either way, she had hoped Luka would be there tonight, and her disappointment had been immeasurable when Juleka had told her that he couldn’t make it.

“I was actually hoping that I could maybe… work up the courage to…“ She shrugged. „It doesn‘t matter anyway, he‘s not here.”

Mylene sighed and squeezed Marinette’s shoulder gently. “I’m sure there’ll be other chances. You two see each other so often, I’m actually a little surprised nothing has happened yet. But… maybe we should go back inside, you’ll catch a cold.”

Marinette nodded. “Go ahead, I’ll be right there. Don’t tell Alya where to find me.”

Mylene and Ivan headed back inside while Marinette contemplated what to do now. 

Despite the shivering, she didn‘t make any moves to go back inside, which was arguably… no, definitely stupid. But as she thought about Alya trying to rope her into another dumb matchmaking scheme or the possibility of more awkward Adrien situations, she considered turning into a popsicle as the better choice.

The night could’ve been perfect. Luka would’ve been there, they would’ve talked and danced all night, they’d exchange gifts and then Marinette would’ve asked Luka out on a date. Maybe to go ice skating or grab a hot chocolate. But as always, destiny just had to be a bitch and have his work call him in to replace a sick coworker last minute.

„You‘re shivering, Marinette.“ Tikki flew out of her bag and floated in front of Marinette‘s face. „Shouldn‘t you at least grab your coat?“

“He‘s delivering Pizza, Tikki.“ She let out a frustrated groan. „Freaking Pizza. Pizza isn‘t even a good Christmas meal, who orders—“

“Do you remember last year when your mom accidentally burned the food?“ Tikki pointed out. “Didn’t you order food as well?”

Right, her maman had been visibly upset even long after they had eaten the takeout. Not even Ultimate mecha strike 3 had been able to cheer her up. 

So really, who was Marinette to judge?

Ugh, why was it so cold??

„Marinette, please just go inside.“ Tikki grabbed her finger and pulled her hand towards the door, but Marinette didn‘t move.

„I can‘t, Tikki…“

The small kwami shook her head. „Everything is so complicated with you humans...“

„I‘m sorry. I just don‘t know what to do,“ Marinette admitted. „If only Luka was here…“

„Then ask him what to do! I‘m sure he‘d also tell you to go inside!“ Tikki pinched her cheek. 

“I don’t want to bother him with my dumb problems,” Marinette protested, but if she were being honest, calling Luka didn’t sound like such a bad idea. Hearing his voice always made her feel better, and when Tikki fished the phone out of the bag, Marinette took it automatically. Her ice cold fingers moved extremely slowly over the touchscreen, but luckily, he was high up in her contact list. Tikki made herself comfortable on Marinette’s shoulder while she put the phone to her ear and waited a few seconds.

“Marinette?”

"Hey, Luka.”

“Hey you.” She could hear his smile through the phone. “What’s up?”

She already felt better. He had said five words with this low, smooth voice of his and Marinette’s lips already curled into a smile. 

“Just wanted to hear your voice and check in on you. I hope you‘re not too cold, are your clothes warm enough?“

On the other side of the line, she heard a low chuckle which sent a shiver down her spine. „It‘s super cold and I’m so tired, but I‘ll be fine. The gloves you made me last year are a life saver.“

„Oh, I‘m happy to hear that.”

“So how’s the party? Are you having a good time?” Luka asked. 

Marinette hit her lips. “Uhm…”

No, Alya almost made me kiss my ex and now I’m standing outside freezing, which is still better than going back inside to confront them…

“Well, it’s…”

Even though confronting Alya is the smarter choice? Just telling her off and hoping that the lesson would stick? But this could very well end in a blow-out fight and I don’t want to fight Alya over something stupid like that. She’s still my friend…

“You know…”

Alya didn’t have bad intentions, she just wants to help me. Even though I never asked for help… but still, intentions matter, don’t they?

Marinette bit her lips.

If only Adrien had said something, but he just can’t help but bend to everyone’s will…

It dawned on her how unbelievably pathetic this all was. She got confronted with one slightly uncomfortable thing, refused to deal with it in an effective way and instead ran away from her problems. Shouldn’t she be over this already? 

She felt how a lump was forming in her throat and her eyes became watery. God, this couldn’t possibly get worse…

“Marinette?” Luka’s voice sounded concerned.

Somehow, the words found a way past the lump and she could get out a weak “It’s fine.” which really only made matters worse, because if there was one thing she hated more than lying, it was lying to Luka specifically.

But she didn’t want to rant to him about what had just went down. It wasn‘t like he had a hard enough time with his delivery job, biking through the city for hours in this cold. Was it really necessary to bother him with her dumb problems as well? 

The phone remained quiet for a few more seconds.

“Is it?” Luka asked, clearly unconvinced.

„Uh… yeah, it’s—“

She suddenly has to sneeze.

„Marinette, are you outside? I mean, bless you, but… are you sure everything is okay?“

Then the tears streamed down her face. She put a hand over her mouth to keep herself from making any noises and confirming Luka’s suspicions.

“Marinette, you know you can talk to me…”

Maybe she should just hang up and pretend this conversation never happened.

No, that will make me look even more suspicious…

She rubbed the tears away from her face, which she could barely feel at this point, and cleared her voice a few times until she felt that her voice would sound somewhat normal again.

“Sorry. I’m probably just wasting your time by keeping you on the phone.”

“No, no, don‘t apologize.” Luka immediately replied. “It’s nice hearing your voice. Even though right now you really don’t sound too happy and I’m a little worried.”

“Sorry, I didn’t want you to worry.” Marinette sighed. “I just… I guess I just really miss you at this party.” That wasn’t a lie. 

On the other side of the line, Luka let out a long sigh. “Believe me, I’m just as bummed out. Hanging out with you is a thousand times better than delivering pizza, especially not that it’s so unbelievably cold.”

“Not to disrespect your boss, but screw him for making you work tonight,” Marinette said.

Luka let out a bitter laugh. “They needed someone to jump in. Trust me, I would love to bail if it didn’t mean I’d lose my job.”

If this was a comic, there would be a lightbulb glowing over Marinette’s head at this moment. 

Bailing… of course. He couldn’t bail from his job, but she on the other hand could totally bail from a party she didn’t want to be at anymore. No confrontation with Alya, no more awkward situations with Adrien, just her and Luka being together. Her heart sped up and she smiled. Why hadn’t she thought of that much sooner?

“Marinette, are you still there?”

“I am, I just… I have a surprise for you!”

“Oh?” Luka sounded surprised. “That’s sweet of you. Hopefully we’ll meet up soon, then.”

“Sooner than you might think, actually,” she chimed and before he could ask further questions, she said good-bye and hung up her phone. Tikki gave her a suspicious look. 

“What are you up to?”

“I’m done with the party,” Marinette said enthusiastically. “Instead, I’ll just pay Luka a visit and keep him company on his job!”

“What?” The kwami flew away from her holder’s shoulder and hovered in front of her face. “How are you planning to even find him? You didn’t ask him where he is and Paris is a huge city!”

“Oh, I think it’s rather easy when you can jump from rooftop to rooftop and get a look from above.” Marinette winked at Tikki. 

The kwami blinked a few times. “Are you aware that you'd be using your powers for selfish reasons?”

“Then how about I use that opportunity to do a quick patrol beforehand? I’ll check that there’s no akuma anywhere and after I confirm that, I’ll look for Luka.” Marinette folded her hands in front of her. “Please, Tikki. I know I’m being selfish, but… just this once will you let me use your powers like that?”

Tikki rubbed her chin as she considered her holder's words, then nodded. “Fine, I’ll allow it. Under one condition.”

“Anything.”

Tikki came closer to her ear. “Go inside and grab your coat first!”

[cloudlessly-light]

Omg! I feel awful. I read pedophilia Hotchniss fic. I didn’t read the description just click it and I feel sooooo bad after that… what a sick person wrote it🤦‍♀️

Please I need your healing now. Can you write something with jealousy and all. Make it as sexy as you want✨ you’re the best 🫶

Title: Love like mine (10/12) Chapter title: I might break your heart but it’s a risk you should take up Summary: He wasn’t a cheater. Until her. Word count: 3,4k Rating: Explicit   Warnings (for this chapter): Smut, dirty talk, breath play/choking (kind of), jealousy, they’re both possessive as hell, feelings

To his surprise it’s not awkward when they see each other at work, like somehow they had found some sort of acceptance that whatever they were wasn’t something that was meant to last. No matter how much he might have wished it did. He watches her from his office window as she walks in, a turtleneck he knows she only wore to cover the mark from his teeth the previous night on her torso, looking collected, as she usually did.

He knows he shouldn’t watch her this way, but finds that it’s close to impossible not to. He didn’t know when he had fallen in love with her, only that it had happened slowly over the months spent together. It wasn’t what they had agreed on all those months ago but when he was with her he felt a sense of serenity he didn’t think he had ever known before.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he knows it’s not the end of them, but Emily wasn’t ready and he wasn’t going to push her. Even though it hurt, he was going to keep his word, last night was the last time because he didn’t want to wait for something that might not happen.

Except, maybe he would.

*

She missed him every day, she missed him in a way she shouldn’t. The night spent together wasn’t something she regretted, but as the days dragged on she found it harder to keep away from him. Then, it had been weeks since he had shown up outside her door, weeks of her missing him in a way she had never missed another person before. Every day she tells herself that this was what was best. Because she had been alone most of her adult life, she didn’t know how to be with someone in the way he needed, she knew she wasn’t good enough for him.

It's harder than she had imagined it to be. But she pretends that she doesn’t know that the feelings she has for him are deeper than anything she’d felt before. She didn’t do this, she didn’t fall in love. She didn’t let herself go there because she didn’t want to get hurt but as she spends her days alongside him, she finds that maybe it was already too late.

As the weeks goes by, it doesn’t get easier, but they seem to find some sort of middle ground. Some days are harder than others, but she stays away from him, wants to give them both as much space as possible.

And it works, for a little while.

Then they’re in a small police station in Missouri, and Emily finds herself seething. It’s been close to four days, four days of her having to watch one of the police officers bat her eyelashes and flirt with Aaron. It doesn’t help that he seems to be enjoying it, even goes as far as smiling when Derek teasingly brings it up.

“Hey you’re divorced now right, no harm in having a little fun.” He jokes as Aaron only shakes his head.

“I’m sure she’s just being friendly.” He knows all of them see right through his lie.

And Emily digs her blunt nails into the palm of her hands to keep from reacting. The jealousy is burning, her stomach feels heavy. She’s never felt this way before, had never been the jealous type. But now it’s all she feels. It’s a feeling she has no right to feel, she knows that. But being logical at a feeling that is anything but logical is hard and when she only a couple of hours later is forced to watch as the young officer brings him a cup of coffee with a smile and hidden note, she thinks the jealousy might burn her alive.

It also doesn’t help that the cop is cute, and kind of similar to herself, but a younger version. She didn’t want to see it that way, but as the woman who couldn’t be older than 25 walks past with wide eyes and a smile of adoration she thinks that maybe that’s why she is jealous. Because she knew he found the other woman attractive.

“She’s really taken with you.” JJ notes as he takes the piece of paper and as he puts it in the pocket of his suit his eyes meet Emily’s quickly and he immediately sees her unease.

“It’s nothing.” He tells the blonde. He had no intention of keeping the number scribbled on the piece of paper, had no interest in the woman. But he would be lying if he wasn’t flattered, would be lying if he didn’t feel some sort of satisfaction seeing that the jealousy Emily was clearly trying to hide.

He had noticed it almost immediately, how her nostrils flared and how her eyes seemed to burn with irritation any time the cop was near him. Which was pretty much the entirety of his time spent in the station. Now the case was done and they were finishing up the last of their paperwork, and the cop had given it her best shot.

“She gave you her number, maybe it’s a sign.” Dave chimes in, a gleam in his eye as he looks between Emily and Aaron for a quick second. “You should give her a call.” If looks could kill, he would have been six feet under when he meets Emily’s glare but it doesn’t deter him and he only winks back at her.

“If I call her, will you let this go?” He chuckles at the way the entire team nods, all of them except Emily who’s refusing to meet his eye.

He knows he shouldn’t enjoy her jealousy, but he does.

He doesn’t get a moment alone with her until they’re leaving the station, bags in hand as they get ready to head for the airport. But he didn’t want her to go home still upset, so when he finds her alone he drags her to the side easily, his hand wrapping around her upper arm, stopping her from joining the others who are already getting into their cars.

“Hey, are you alright?” He asks even as her dark eyes narrows at him.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” She shakes her arm out of his hold and he arches an eyebrow at her tone.

“You’ve barely said two words in the last couple of days.”

“Oh I’m sorry, maybe catching a killer was on my mind?”

“Oh that’s it?” He knows he shouldn’t find her anger a turn on, knows that if anything he should reprimand her for her attitude towards him, but he finds that he can’t.

“That’s it. What else would there be?” She turns and walks out of the station without giving him a chance to reply.

She’s still upset, hours later as she paces her apartment. The glass of wine she had poured herself was left forgotten on the counter. Her mind is racing, she hates feeling this way. She tries to calm herself, tries to remember that she was the one who decided to end them, she didn’t have any claim on him. He wasn’t hers.

Except, she wanted him to be.

It’s not logical, it’s anything but logical when she grabs her car keys and leaves her apartment. She doesn’t let herself think too much about her actions, all she can think about is her need for him, her need to claim him. It’s not fair, she realizes, it’s not fair to him to knock on his door, but that doesn’t stop her.

When he opens the door it’s like he had expected it, a small, knowing smile on his face. But he’s nice enough to play along as he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed wearing only a pair of pajama bottoms.

“It’s late.” When she doesn’t respond he sighs. “What are you doing here Emily?”

“Are you going to call her?” The words tumble out of her mouth and if she hadn’t been so caught up in her own feelings she would have been embarrassed at the way she barges into his apartment.

“I don’t know how that’s any of your business.” He says, the door closing softly behind him before he meets her eye again.

“I-” She starts but she doesn’t know how to finish the sentence, already feeling foolish at the way she can’t seem to get it together. “It’s not.” She says and he huffs causing her eyebrows to knit together.

He takes a second to look at her, wonders if he should voice what he’s thinking, what he’s been thinking for most of the week as he watched Emily struggle with her emotions. Finally, he realizes that he doesn’t really have anything to lose anymore.

“So you don’t want to be with me but you don’t want anybody else to have me?”

The anger is instant, just as irrational as the jealousy. He’s right, and that didn’t sit right with her. It’s unfair of her, again, but right then she didn’t want to see it that way.

“You know that isn’t the case, I never said I didn’t want you.”

“Didn’t you?” He takes a step towards her and she stands firm, her hands fisting quickly at her sides before relaxing and drawing a shaky breath.

“Wanting you was never the problem. Never.” She watches as his face softens just a little.

“You’re scared.” He tells her and it’s the first time either of them has said the words out loud. “You’re scared and you expect me to be there for you when you need me, but that’s not how this works.” When she sucks in a sharp breath he knows he’s hit a nerve.

For a few seconds things are silent between them, both of them simply looking at each other. The only sound in his apartment is their breathing, slightly labored.

“I never thought we’d get here.” Her voice comes out low, almost defeated, like all the fight had suddenly drained from her body. Actually, it had. She was tired of fighting, of pretending.

“Me neither.” He tells her softly, his touch gentle as he angles her face up to look at him. “But I’m not doing this anymore, if you want me then tell me. Don’t come here in the middle of the night to start a fight instead of telling me what you really feel.”

Her first instinct is to run away, to protect herself from the love she’s pretty sure would consume her if she’d let it. But she can’t move, something grounding her and she finds that as she looks into the dark of his eyes she relaxes.

“I want you.” The words are barely a whisper, shaky and careful and he almost doesn’t hear her. But then her face hardens slightly, like determination takes over and her hand moves to the back of his neck to grab his short hair. “You’re mine.”

He doesn’t get the time to respond, her lips claiming his as she all but lunges herself at him. He responds just as eagerly, hands tugging on her clothes and a low groan rumbling from his throat as her tongue pries his lips apart.

She knows her nails are leaving red lines on his body as she scratches them down his chest, knows that he’ll wear a purple hickey that’s barely going to be hidden under the collar of his suit, she knows that she does it all because she wants to mark him. Mark him as hers.

And he lets her.

For now she didn’t want to think about her fears, she knows that it’s a discussion that they still needed to have, but for now knowing that he was hers was enough. She gasps against his lips as his hand moves under her shirt, his skin hot against hers.

She only tears her lips away from his when he tugs her shirt over her head, kisses him again the moment it’s on the floor. He tastes like he always did, and a hint of the spearmint toothpaste he uses, and she can’t get enough.

He unhooks her bra easily before moving to her pants, which are pushed from her hips as they stumble towards the bedroom. Her nails sting as she grabs at him, her touch close to desperate as she tries to get more of him. He lest her, for now, because he knows she needs this, needs him. That thought is as exciting as it is scary, because finally she had admitted to this being something more. But he wasn’t dumb, he knew she still needed time, that tonight was just the beginning. The beginning of something new.

By the time she pushes him back on the bed they’re both naked and she wastes no time straddling his lap. She’s wet against him, her slick coating his shaft as she grinds against it and his hand find their way to her hips, as his head falls back against the pillow with a groan.

“Tell me.” She pants, dark eyes boring into his as she aligns him with her, but doesn’t sink down on him as he expects. It takes him a moment to understand what she means and her voice drops lower as she speaks again. “Tell me, Aaron.”

“I’m yours.” He breathes and she lowers her body in return, her tight walls making him hiss as she takes all of him. “Fuck Em, I’m yours.” His eyes shut tightly at the pleasure she’s creating as her hips roll and grind on top of him and through the sound of his heartbeat in his ears he hears her satisfied hum, the sound low and breathy.

“Mine.” She plants her hands on his chest as she fucks him hard and fast, barely even aware that her nails are digging into his flesh again. All she can think about is him, how he feels, how much she wants him. A small part of her thinks she wants him forever, but she wouldn’t tell him that. Not yet.

He gives her a few moments to enjoy the power but as he watches her the urge to claim her right back sneaks up on him. Her eyes are closed, mouth open as she moans and whimpers above him, almost oblivious to the way he’s looking up at her. Suddenly his grip on her tightens and he turns them around, a smug grin on his face at her look of surprise.

“Can’t let you have all the fun now can I?” He mumbles against her ear before licking down her neck. His thrusts are heavy as he kisses down to her chest, with a growl he licks over one nipple, his teeth tugging on the piercing for a moment, just enough for her to arch into it.

“Harder, fuck me harder.” Her legs wrap around him as she pulls him against her, the sounds of their bodies close to obscene as he does what she asks. She knows she’ll be sore in the morning, but she doesn’t care, she loves it. Then one of his hands finds its way to her throat, his large palm scolding against her skin, but he doesn’t squeeze, not until her eyelids flutter open to meet his dark stare.

“Are you mine?” He asks and she nods breathlessly.

“Yours. I’m yours.” Her reward is his hand tightening along with a satisfied grin, something dark and feral coming over him.

“That’s my good girl.” He lets go of her neck only a few seconds later to claim her lips in a kiss. When they break apart it’s because she’s moaning and gasping for air, her body tensing more under his from each thrust of his hips. He lets his forehead rest on her shoulder as he focuses on fucking into her the way he knows she loves and when her back arches and her hands twists the sheets he knows she’s close.

“You get so tight when you come,” He groans against her ear and she cries out. “so pretty when you let go for me, fuck I can feel it, how close you are. Come for me sweetheart, let me hear it.” His teeth dig into her neck for a moment, leaving his own mark on her. “Scream my fucking name.”

“Aaron!” It’s the only word she gets out, the sound of his name loud and high pitched before she groans through her release. She feels like she’s floating as he keeps going, only stopping to quickly turn her around so she’s on her hands and knees.

“You can be louder than that.” He rasps against the back of her ear, one hand sneaking around her body to pull her flush against his chest, his hand gently grabbing her neck while the other finds her clit. When she jerks at the stimulation his hand tightens around her neck. “Be good for me.”

“Fuck, please-” She doesn’t really know what she’s asking for, he’s turned the tables on her so quickly her mind reels, but in the best way. His heavy breaths are damp against the back of her neck, his hand around her neck firm but never restricting and when her hips buckle into his hand she can hear his snicker. “Don’t stop, right there, keep going.” She pleads, her voice sounding foreign to her own ears.

Her head falls back against his shoulder, her arms grabbing the headboard in a death grip as she cries out loudly as he gets her to the edge once again.

“That’s right, fucking scream for me sweetheart.” His fingers move faster against her clit, his hips drag with long and deep thrusts inside of her and when she starts to tighten again he growls against her ear.

When she comes only a few minutes later it’s with a sound that she knows the neighbors can hear through the wall as her body writhes in his hold. He fucks her through it, low murmurs and secure touches bringing her back down before she falls forward. He follows her down, and she rolls onto her back again, a lazy smile on her face.

“Come here.” She beckons him, her fingers gripping his hair again to pull him down into a kiss, this one softer as he pushes back inside of her. “You feel so good.” She tells him as her hand moves from his neck to his stubbled cheek to keep his eyes on hers.

“You do too.” He promises. His own pleasure is building quickly, each thrust getting him closer. “You feel so fucking good around my cock.”

“Tell me again.” She pleads and he grunts at the sound of her voice.

“I’m yours.” He says, repeating the words over and over until his hips are jerking and muscles tense.

“Mine, you’re mine Aaron.” She watches through hooded eyes as pleasure takes him over, and when he lets out a sound that’s raspy and desperate she knows he’s close. “And I’m yours.”

“Mine, fucking mine.” He comes snarling the words in her face, something about her admitting it sending him over the edge. His hips press flush against hers, his lips finding hers through cloudy pleasure and he doesn’t stop kissing her until his body has calmed and her touch has turns soft and gentle against him.

His body is littered with scratches and marks from her mouth and normally she would be embarrassed by her lack of control, but right now she loved it. Tomorrow she would kiss each mark she had left, knew that he’d probably tease her about them and yet she didn’t care.

“So all we needed was another woman to flirt with me huh?” He mumbles later as he spoons her against his, his lips a smile against her neck.

“I’m burning that fucking note, just so you know.” When he laughs she can’t help but to smile at the sound.

“Don’t worry, I threw it out before even getting on the plane. I never wanted it.” He props his head up on his hand as she turns fully into him on the bed.

“Really?” She hates how her cheeks heat up at the admission.

“Really.” He promises with a kiss, a soft stamp of his lips against hers. When he looks back down at her his face falls for a moment and she readies herself for whatever he is going to say next. “Should I expect to wake up to an empty bed tomorrow?”

“No.” Her hand comes to rest on his cheek and she smiles. “I’m staying.”

[amgk22]

Ok so I just read the headcannons of the hg characters reacting to being asked out, how do you think they would react to their s/o being a hyper sunshine type of person? Just a sweetheart to everybody wherever they go and fem reader please :)

sure!!

hunger games cast with a sunshinefem!reader

note: reaper ash has been replaced by cinna for the foreseeable future!

Katniss, at first, would honestly be a bit annoyed at your excitement at everything. However, the more you two would hang out, she’d get more used to it.

Peeta would love your positive outlook on everything. If anyone ever tried to call you annoying, he’d immediately get defensive of you. The best part of your sunshiney personality to him is your smile. He loves your smile.

Gale immediately tells you to knock it off, thinking you’re just trying to annoy him. Your dynamic would definitely be grumpy x sunshine, but after he realizes he’s stuck with you, he tries his best to just ignore you as best as possible when you’re hyperactive- which is almost all the time.

Haymitch would be confused on how you have all the energy. To him, the most energy you can have nowadays is a run for one minute. Seeing you multiply that energy is not just weird, but fascinating to him. He’d probably try and figure out your secrets.

Effie would be so happy realizing you’re happy-go-lucky. She’s one of those types herself, and has often been told that she’s ’too much’. Having a lady like you would make her the happiest girl in the world.

Cato would think of it as a challenge to try and get you exhausted or bored. He’d get into playful fights with you, go on extra long runs, or just anything that would make him tired. When it takes longer than he thought, he feels defeated but will never give up. You could be in your eighties and he’d still be trying to make you tired.

Clove would like the hyper energy part of it, because now she has a workout buddy- but she’d hate you always being so nice to everyone. She has a lot of grudges, and you having a conversation with one of her enemies is definitely pissing her off.

Glimmer would love your kindness and sunshine. She’d always hope that you’d give her some compliments, and when you do, she’d blush like crazy and beg for more.

Marvel would have a love-hate relationship with your personality. When he’s in a good mood, joking around, your laughs brighten his day. But after a horrible day, with losses and unfunny jokes, your smiles just make him mad. Why do you get to be so happy?

Thresh would honestly love your personality, especially your laugh. He struggles to laugh, so you being so special makes him love you even more.

Annie would sometimes be overwhelmed with your hyperactive spirit, and have to take a break to calm down. However, in little bits she’s fine with it. She always feels bad when she has to leave, because she knows it’s not your fault.

Finnick would definitely love everything about you. Crazy, calm, hyperactive, he adores you. Whenever you look up at him, he just stares at your eyes and his heart melts at your love-filled smile.

Johanna would hate your big personality. It reminds her of times before the Hunger Games, when she had a personality like that. However, your kindness and compassion with her struggles would make up for it.

Cinna would be inspired by your big personality. Just by seeing you, he’d begin to think of a dress and design it that night, giving it to you in the morning to match your smile.

Coriolanus would be protective of you. With you being so sunshiney, he’d immediately assume you’re naive and be scared of if anything or anyone tried to hurt you.

Lucy Gray is more calm, but during shows she sees your big personality as a gift. She would write a song about you, the sun being a metaphor of your beautiful face.

Sejanus wouldn’t stop staring at you. Your smile warms his heart, and he feels safe around you. He knows that even if he did something wrong, you’d be compassionate, but he still doesn’t do anything wrong to protect you.

Festus would love your presence, but secretly want to break your brightness. He’d wanna see how much he could play with you. How much your smile could change as you two hang out. He’d never be abusive, but he’d definitely take some…risks. He’s the definition of a bully boyfriend.

Coral would try her best to match your energy, but to no avail. She’d always feel that she’s not enough for you. However, you made sure to insist that she is enough, and that warmed her cold heart.

thanks for reading and remember that REQUESTS ARE ALWAYS OPEN!

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

How would Dean react to a relationship between Samuel (Mary's dad) and Sister Winchester?

I imagine that she went hunting with Samuel and Sammy during the year she was with Lisa and then when they all hunt together again Dean sees that she has a relationship with Samuel

What would Dean's reaction be like?

And how would that relationship between Sister Winchester and Samuel occur?

Maybe Samuel would see Sister Winchester as an extension of Mary, if Mary was his mom, if not, maybe he wouldn't like her.

I just imagine that when Samuel tries to scold and berate Sister Winchester for some mistake in front of Dean, he would be like "You didn't raise her, I did, she made a mistake but you have no right to scold her."

When I write "Samuel" I mean Mary's dad and when I say "Sammy" I mean Dean's brother Sam.

Thank you Mary for your little creativity for your children's names.

Speaking of, do you think Mary found out about everything Samuel did to Dean and Sam? How would you have reacted?

Ok so I see two scenarios happening here:

1) somehow the little sister is Mary’s, and in that case, maybe Samuel had a soft spot for her. He treats her well in a time when Dean is off with Lisa and Sam is acting weird (before she knows he’s soulless), so she forms an attachment to him. Being younger, she can be kind of naive and she doesn’t see how shady he is because he’s the only one lately that’s treating her well. When Dean comes back, he’s angry at first that she listens to Samuel, because Dean doesn’t trust him. But then he starts to feel guilty when he realizes why she’s formed an attachment to him. I think Dean would try to break it by giving his little sister more attention than ever, so that she can get re-used to what healthy attachment looks like. Once Dean regains her trust, he explains to her why Samuel is so untrustworthy. She might not listen to him at first, in fact she’d probably be really mad at him. But then she’d start to see all of Samuel’s white lies and shady deals, and she’d be wary of him for a while. Once he full-on betrays them, she’s more hurt and angry than anyone, and the boys have to talk her down so she doesn’t try to kill him. She’d go off on him about how he betrayed family, and about how Mary would hate him for what he did.

2) she isn’t Mary’s, and Samuel hates her guts. He sees her as a symbol of John’s betrayal of Mary (even though she was long dead when the little sister came along). He doesn’t think she belongs in the family, and he and Sammy (even soulless, she’s still kind of his sister) get into fights about keeping her around. Because of this, the little sister is in a really bad place by the time Dean comes back (she’s now spent almost a year away from Dean, who left to be with Lisa, and she was with Samuel, her half-ish-grandfather who hates her, and soulless Sam). He notices the change instantly—she almost never speaks, and all her energy is spent trying to keep out of everyone’s way while also trying to help them. At first he’s scared it’s because of him, but he notices quickly how Samuel treats her—shutting her up whenever she tries to talk, trying to not include her whenever there’s something to do, even sometimes pushing her out of the way if she gets too close—and Dean shuts that down hard. Samuel was never dumb enough to tell Dean to get rid of her—he hates her, but he knows that Dean isn’t soulless Sam, and Dean would probably kill him if he suggested it—but it doesn’t matter, Dean sees how Samuel treats her and he won’t stand for it. And like you said, if Samuel tried to berate her Dean would jump in so fast.

“You don’t get to tell her what to do! If you’re gonna treat her like she’s not family, then you’re not gonna talk to her at all!”

I don’t think she found out, mostly because there’s not much communication going on between Mary and the boys. I think she might be a little shocked to hear what Samuel did, but it really wouldn’t surprise me if she agreed with his greater good crap.

[sailorsplatoon]

bit more of a edgy(or whatever) question here: what would each ship do if their loved one was shot and killed right infront of them? (both ways of course) dont have to answer if you dont want to lmao

Okay, first of all, never hesitate to send me edgy or angsty asks, I love them! 

Second, this is going to be really long, so I apologize in advance.

Third, after writing this I’ve realized I might need to put a few trigger warnings on it so uh… trigger warning for mention of guns, mention of shooting, breif suicidal thoughts, mention of hallucinations, light gore, and character death.

Acht would break down if Four or Harmony was shot in front of them. They would just entirely fall apart. Crying, screaming, all of it. Four would react very differently if Acht or Harmony was killed in front of them. They’d go into a fit of rage, and probably end up killing whoever did the shooting in the most painful way possible. If Harmony whitenessed one of her partners get killed, she would go into full on denial. Even though she watched them die, she’d somehow convince herself that they’re not gone, like to the point of hallucinating that they’re still there.

If Marie had to watch Shina die, she’d just kind of stand there, frozen in shock. She doesn’t know what to do, her mind is racing so fast that she can’t possibly move. Shina on the other hand, would react very similarly to Four. She’d immediately seek to avenge Marie’s death on the person who killed her and on anyone who they are remotely affiliated (John Wick style).

Shiver, upon seeing Birch die, would react very similar to Harmony in that she’d go into denial. However her’s isn’t as strong as Harmony’s, and it’s more like she’s trying to lie herself over and over rather than being fully convinced. In reality, she knows that Birch is gone. Birch on the other hand would react similarly to Four and Shina (agression in the face of mourning runs in the family). However, rather than going after simply the shooter, they’d attack anyone in sight, taking out their rage on whatever poor target happened to be nearest. 

If Frye saw Elle get shot and killed, I think she’d have an even harder time believing it than Harmony. Since Elle’s soul is inside a robot body rather than an organic one, she’d convince herself that only Elle’s robot body died, and that Elle’s soul must have entered the Memverse and is still alive in there. She searches the Memverse endlessly to try and find them, no matter how much everyone tells her that Elle is gone. If Elle had seen Frye die, the emotional pain would be too much for them to handle and she'd just pass out right there. When they wake up, she starts crying uncontrollably.

If Elita were to get shot and killed in front of Callie, she’d do that thing that characters in movies sometimes do where they cling onto the dead body and refuse to let go, getting covered in the person’s blood as they slowly die. Callie can’t bear to let go, because she knows that then it would mean Elita’s actually gone. If Elita were to see Callie die, she’d do something very similar in that she’d refuse to leave Callie’s side. She’d stay there until she is physically forced to leave.

Pearl, similarly to Marie, would be frozen in terror if she saw Marina die. She’d be in so much emotional turmoil that she wouldn’t be able to move. However, a part of it would also be that she’s hoping if she stays still, she’ll get shot too. If Marina saw Pearl die, she’d rush over to her, convinced that she can somehow find a way to fix it. She’s fixed every problem that’s come her way, she just has to be able to now. But she can’t, and it’s impossible for her to accept that. And then it just turns into Romeo and Juliet.

Thank you for the ask!!! I had a lot of fun writing this, but it turned out way darker than I had intended…

[rosenallies]

mirage as Anetra’s sister in drag racer au??? my heart just thinking about it! 🥲🥲💕💕

Idk if you wanted this as a prompt or if u were just commenting on it but I had to introduce her so I’m using this as a vessel <3

——

“Who is this?!” Anetra grumbled into the phone, finally picking up after the same number had called her over and over again throughout the day, leaving no message.

The voice on the other end almost made her drop her phone.

“Anetra?” Breathed the voice of her baby sister, Mirage, someone she hadn’t heard from since her mom kicked her out almost 8 years ago.

She and Mirage had always been close as kids, making up dances in the backyard and giggling into the darkness all night until their mother yelled at them through the wall to quiet down and go to sleep. If Anetra missed anyone from her real blood family, it was Mirage. She’d left when she was 20 and Mirage was just 15, cheeks still full with baby fat and eyes teary as she begged her big sister not to go.

“Mirage? Is that you?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Did you miss me or something?”

‘Miss’ was an understatement, she was sure her sister was the only one in her family to not hate her when she came out but that hope that Anetra had that she’d reach out when she turned 18 got dimmer and dimmer as the years passed, she’d fully given up on hearing from anyone from her blood family ever again at that point.

“Miri-I-“ Anetra choked out, breath seized as she got choked up, “it’s been so long.”

“I know,” Mirage sighed and Anetra could almost picture her biting her lip on the other end, a habit she had never been able to break no matter how much their mom scolded her for it, “look, I-um-I’m sorry I never reached out, I wanted to but mom was putting me through school and-and-“

“It’s okay, I forgive you,” Anetra admitted softly. She’d thought about it a lot, how she would react if she ever heard from her sister ever again and anger usually came to her mind, but hearing her sister’s voice, even muffled slightly over the phone sent all that flying out the window. “Are you still living with mom?”

Mirage laughed, bitter seeming. “No, I’m living in Vegas now. Where are you?”

“LA,” she paused, “I want to see you. Will you come visit?”

“Netra, I would love to, I just can’t afford-“

“I’ll pay for it. I’d come to you but I kind of have a family now and the baby is-“

“Hold up;a baby?! Girl, you had a baby?!”

Anetra laughed. “I didn’t carry, one of my partners did, but yes.”

“Wait? One of? You’ve got more than one?”

“Yeah, I’ve got two amazing partners,” Anetra replied, smiling to herself, “and a son, he’s about 6 months now.”

“I’ve missed so much,” Mirage sighed, “I’ll pay you back when I can but I’d really like to see you.”

“Don’t even worry about it, I’ll book a flight for as soon as possible. I-um-I love you, okay? I know it’s been so long and-“

“Netra, I love you too. I’ll see you when I can.”

**

Less than a month later, Anetra found herself at LAX, chewing on her thumbnail and pacing as she waited for Mirage at the gate.

“Darling, do you want to take Kai?” Sasha asked softly, handing the baby off to Anetra when she nodded, nuzzling her nose in his hair and letting the scent of his baby shampoo comfort her nerves.

“Don’t be nervous, Neech, she’s your sister,” Marcia said, patting her shoulder to ease the tension as people started emerging from the gate, suitcases in tow.

Anetra scanned the crowd anxiously, bouncing the baby in her arms just to keep the jitters at bay. When her eyes finally landed on her sister, she couldn’t stop the tears from spilling overv. If she didn’t have the baby in her arms she would’ve ran to her, and it seemed as if that notion was noticeable as Marcia gently took Kai from her arms, letting her run to her sister.

“Miri!” She called, running toward her and throwing herself at her sister who now towered over her.

“It’s so amazing to see you,” Anetra sniffled, holding her at an arm’s length away as she pulled apart, studying her face, “look at you, all grown up.”

Even though she had tears in her eyes too, Mirage laughed softly, “and look at you, all emotional in your old age.”

Anetra threw her head back in laughter, giddy with the feeling of being reunited with her sister. “You’re such a bitch.”

“Always,” Mirage winked, “now are you gonna be a good big sister and help me with my bags?”

“Give me your bags, you brat,” Anetra rolled her eyes lightheartedly, tugging her sister’s luggage along to where Marcia and Sasha stood, watching fondly.

After introducing Mirage to her little family and a nice dinner downtown, Anetra sat on the couch with Mirage, knees touching as they chatted about everything they’d been up to over the years. It was getting late but Anetra didn’t want the day to end.

“So,” Anetra breathed, stomach churning with nerves, figuring she might as well ask what she still wondered day in and day out, “how’s mom and everyone?”

Mirage bit her lip, appearing as if she really hadn’t kicked that habit. “She kicked me out three years ago.”

“What? Why?”

“I dropped out of college and started dancing at this little bar downtown and when she found out she told me to quit or leave, so I left. I moved to Vegas a few months later after crashing with some friends and I’ve been dancing on the strip since. I know it’s ‘dirty work’ or whatever most people think it is so I get it if you’re judging me but I really found myself on stage, you know? I really love it, getting dolled up and dancing. It’s freeing. A big change from our religious upbringing.”

Anetra nodded, she understood that more than anyone. She laced their fingers together, squeezing gently. “Yeah, I get it. I could never judge you for that, just like you were the only one who didn’t judge me when I came out,” she paused, laughing to herself in disbelief, “imagine if mom could see us now. Me, gay with two partners and a baby born out of wedlock crashing cars for money and you, a Vegas stripper.”

They looked at each other and then burst into a laughter so hard it made their stomachs hurt, making up for years of missed laughs.

“Oh man, I’m so glad I have you again,” Mirage sighed as they came down from their laughing fit, leaning her head on Anetra’s shoulder.

Anetra pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, just like she used to do when they were young and Mirage cried, only wanting comfort from her big sister. “I’m glad I have you too. Of course, I love my chosen family more than anything, but I always wished I had at least one person who shared my blood on my side.”

“I was always on your side, Netra. Always. And no matter what I always knew you were on mine.”

[sigritandtheelves]

All Along, Like Fire (Part 2)

Read Part 1

R | 1.8k words | MSR, AU

Summary: What if Mulder had been married to Diana Fowley when Scully joined the X-Files?

A/N: I think one more part after this… again, assuming it doesn’t get out of hand, lol.

—

October, 1994

Fox Mulder did not react the way Diana anticipated. She watched him crumble from the inside, watched him throw himself into fire and rail screaming against the night. This wasn’t just guilt and devotion, she realized. It was love: hot and soul-deep in a way she didn’t think he’d ever felt for her.

The thought burned acidic in her gut.

It was never a lie when she told him she loved him. She did, with all of herself that was able to love. There was just so much she couldn’t tell him, that he wouldn’t understand. Dana Scully might have been “good,” but such a position was relative, and to think her goodness more pure was naïve. On the deeper scale of history, wasn’t saving the human race better? Wouldn’t advances in genetics, and these future children, be the key to survival some day?

Diana looked down over her medical mask at the red-haired woman, petrified but immobilized, on the metal gurney. She dare not speak, lest the other woman recognize her voice, but she placed a hand on Scully’s arm—whether to comfort or reassert her own power, she wasn’t sure. Both, perhaps.

Now you’re a part of this, she thought.

Diana could tell the other woman wanted to scream, but the intravenous paralytic kept her from moving, tied her voice down in her throat, even as her belly distended for the hyperovulation.

We’ll be the same, she thought. They’ll have your future, too.

And when Scully died, whether from this procedure or the cancer that would inevitably follow, Mulder would be broken. Diana would be there waiting for him with open arms and open ears.

—

November, 1994

Scully was soft and fragile and freckled, teetering just this side of life and no memory of where she’d been. Mulder returned her cross to her: a symbol of both her faith and his, though not in the same things. When darkness came and her mother and sister had gone, he wielded his badge to reach her floor and stole back in when the night nurse took a break—even if Scully were sleeping, he needed to see her.

But she wasn’t sleeping. She was deep in thought with a reading lamp on, fingers clasped around the necklace on her chest. She looked up at the sound of the door.

“Hi,” he said.

She smiled at him, and he felt dizzy for a moment at the sober cobalt of her eyes.

“Did you sneak in?”

He frowned. “I don’t sneak, Scully. I deftly maneuver.”

She gave a slow nod of humoring agreement.

“Are you feeling okay? I was just going to sit for a minute and then sne— maneuver my way out.”

Another half smile before she scooted over, patted a space on the bed by her hip. He crossed the room to sit facing her, like she’d done for him in a hospital bed not long ago. He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles, pushed her hair from her face with a gentle touch. His eyes carried a weight that looked like it could pull her down and drown her. It scared her a little.

“Mulder—“

“I thought I’d lost you,” he said, voice low and full of gravel. “It ripped me apart. I wasn’t sure I…” He breathed in once, twice, pushing down some dangerous confession. “They reopened the X-Files and I almost didn’t care. I only cared about finding you.”

Scully’s eyebrows went up at this. “They reopened the files?”

Mulder brushed his lips across her fingers one more time and then let them go. “Yes.”

“When?”

He shrugged. “About two weeks ago.” A pause as he considered how to frame his next words. “I don’t want to pressure you to make any kind of decision. I know you need time, and you may not want to come back at all—“

“I do.” Her voice so firm, so sure.

“Scully, there’s a very good chance someone took you because of our work.”

Her chin jutted up to cut the air with determination. “Then we can’t let them get what they want.”

He opened his mouth to speak, to argue, to say something protective and reassuring like that he’d be okay without her—a lie—but he swallowed it back. He wanted her with him, needed, couldn’t imagine his life without her now. “Scully…” a croak, an admonition, a declaration. He leaned forward and turned to lay his head on her pillow, pulling her back with him. He swung his legs up to lay alongside hers and curled his body around her.

Scully stiffened. This was a dangerous game—dangerously close to the mistake they’d already made. “Mulder, I—“

“Please,” he said. “I just need to hold you for a few minutes. I just need to know you’re really here.” She relaxed, softened against him, and after a moment let her head fall onto his chest.

“You’re married,” she said. “It’s not fair to—“ she swallowed around a click in her throat, “to her.” Or me, she thought. But her arm had come around his waist and her palm was on his back, under his jacket and t-shirt, warm on his skin. She wanted all of him around her like a cocoon. It was the safest she’d felt since waking.

“I know,” he said. He kissed the top of her head.

He didn’t let go.

—

It would be almost Christmas by the time they left quarantine, another whole month gone and so soon after losing time already. Alone in all this quiet sent Scully reeling into the blank void of her lost memory, grasping at scraps and finding only terror, meaningless sensations, dead silence but for the whir of horrible machines.

Scully doubled over in the dark, clinging to her own knees in oversized hospital scrubs. She heard a low keening whine. The drill—

the drill the drill the drill the drill the drill

But it wasn’t the drill. It was only herself, her own throat squeezing out that high, desperate note. She choked on it and sobbed.

She needed to work. She needed to be anywhere but alone with her thoughts and the cold, medical smell of antiseptics, waiting to see if she’d sicken and die like the others.

Welcome back, she thought.

—

Less than two weeks left and neither of them showed signs of infection so they were given permission for contact. Mulder was practically banging at the door, ready to tunnel between their rooms to see her. Unlocking the passage between them was like the crack of gunfire at a race: he was off in a heartbeat.

What he found on the other side of her door was a pale, limp creature, wrapped in blankets and staring at the ceiling.

“Scully!” he rushed to her bed and checked her pulse, felt her throat and her cheeks. She felt warm, but not flushed. “What’s wrong?”

Her eyes focused on him and her lips trembled. “I tried not to think about it,” she said, “but I was alone again.” He sank down beside her, watched her wrestle with herself, biting her lips and forcing herself to sit up. She was collecting composure from every last reserve. “I’m sorry. I’m okay.”

He touched her face again—he couldn’t help it. “You’re not okay.”

For a moment, she leaned her cheek into his palm, eyes closed. She breathed deeply while silence hovered. When she finally spoke, nothing could have prepared him for her words.

“Do you love your wife?” she asked.

It was like a record scratch, a slap, a T-bone at an intersection. “What?”

His hand dropped back onto the bed, and she opened her eyes to look at him. “This is dangerous, Mulder. Whatever this is—“ she waved her hand between them, “—it’s very confusing.”

He nodded. “I know.”

“Do you love her?”

Mulder looked away, grappling with his own demons. “Yes. I do. I did? God, I don’t know.” He’d thought what he had with Diana was love, but now he wasn’t sure. Diana was a low thrum of lust and comfort. Whatever this was, it felt monumental, volcanic, planetary, cosmic.

Her voice was low and dry, like wind through leaves. “I won’t do this, Mulder. I won’t be the greener pasture or give her reason to hate me more. That’s not fair.”

“I know it’s not.”

“You’re my friend,” she said.

“Yes.” He thought of her naked under him, soft and unbearably sweet, pink-cheeked and mewling with pleasure. He felt like he’d swallowed fire.

“When you touch me…” She couldn’t finish. “I need to respect your marriage. Or I can’t respect myself.”

There was something in the way she said it that made him realize there was more—something she wasn’t telling him.

“Okay.” Still, he didn’t stand. When she looked up at him, her eyes were hooded, dark, hungry. Being this close to her was dangerous. He didn’t trust himself.

And he was stupidly in love with her, he realized.

He bent to kiss her, and she didn’t resist. She opened and softened and tasted like honey. He’d kill for her. He’d rip the world to shreds for her. He wanted to let her go, but he couldn’t—not after he’d felt this. It was danger love, cataclysmic love.

When he pulled back, her lips were swollen and the freckles stood out on her nose in the dim light. There was no regret her eyes, nor in him: only need.

“I’m not sorry about this,” he said, and he gave in.

—

January, 1995

In the real world of D.C., they put their professional composure back together. They were polite, protective, and professional—if somewhat flirtatious. Scully wouldn’t allow things to move beyond that, not in the city where they lived and worked, but the memory of how he felt over her, under her, inside her was never far away. It seeped in when he was giving slideshows and pinkened her face. She ached to touch him.

But he was married, and that thought would always follow the desire and fill her with a too-familiar shame. By some miracle, Scully had managed to avoid seeing Diana Fowley in the intervening months—was, in fact, terrified of running into her again. When it finally happened, she was shattered, knocked flat by the encounter.

She and Mulder had been working over lunch when Diana walked in, shoving her into panic mode and skyrocketing her blood pressure. Then the woman spoke, and everything came undone.

“Agent Scully,” Diana said, as if surprised to see her. “I was sorry to hear about what happened…”

Diana kept speaking, but Scully had stopped listening. The look in Diana's eyes, their shape and the pitch of her eyebrows rolled a tumbler in her mind.

no no no no no no no

Cold sweat broke out on her upper lip and she felt her face go white as blood left her and she was blanketed with terror. The machines, the drill, the hard metal slab...

Diana had been there in that cold, medical place.

Scully remembered.

—

End Part 2

Go to Part 3

[pergaminaa]

Modern au:

When I'm speaking about Manon's stress/anxiety, I mean that she's really a mess.

One is her inability to deal with those emotions because she doesn't understand them. She was shamed out of that and it's just something she tries to ignore until she's in the middle of a panic attack.

It all goes back to early childhood; her grandmother conditioned her to behave in a certain way. If she was too upset or too worked up (even if she’s excited) it was something she’d get admonished for. She must always be perfect, and anything other than that is unacceptable.

The toxic, abusive environment she grew up in bled into her personal life. The few times she dated, she ended up with the worst kind of man. Very similar to her grandmother. It’s familiar, she knows how to navigate that. She is always hyper-vigilant, paying attention to the smallest quests, navigating a mess, and being miserable.

It’s what she knows. She knows how to handle this.

Also, she is undiagnosed and unmedicated. The entire concept is unfathomable. What would her grandmother say if she's not right in the head? Her grandmother will never accept this, and this is why Manon doesn't even think about what might be the cause of those issues.

Also, just being wired this way is going to be a sure way for her grandmother to outright disown her and find someone who is sane and not screwed up in the head to take her place. So no. She is totally fine and doesn't need any help managing anything. She's perfectly normal.

So really, with a major issue like this being ignored, Manon continues to pretend nothing is wrong. Things are okay until the slightest bit goes wrong, and she spirals. But she's mostly in denial about it. It is not because of her, but rather, the circumstances and things going wrong. Because when everything is going according to plan, she is perfectly fine.

The wake up call was when she started dating Dorian. At one point, she contemplated breaking up with him. She was going to, being with him was too overwhelming and she felt out of her element, out of control.

Dorian only has love and support for her. He doesn’t get angry, he doesn’t yell and gaslight her. He never did anything to hurt her and she doesn’t know how to navigate this. It was stressing her out and she felt like she was drowning. She can't predict anything. She can't tell when he's going to lose his temper or just... flip the script on her and blame her for his reactions.

One night she went to Sorrel, on the verge of a breakdown because she had made up her mind. It is the best course of action. There is only way to cut their losses and end things before they get too tangled up. But it pained her and she needed to talk to someone.

Sorrel was clear with her, she was self sabotaging. She has something good and she doesn’t know how to handle it. She feels safer with what is familiar, even if it means getting herself hurt.

Sorrel asked her if this was what she really wanted. To leave Dorian and all that he’s doing for her and end up with another abusive/toxic asshole. Manon said that she didn’t want to leave Dorian, but she didn’t know what to do. She can’t read any cues from him. She can’t tell when he’ll lose his cool.

Sorrel reminded her that Dorian is not this kind of person. Despite teasing him, she knows that he will never hurt Manon. Her best friend only reacts like this because she doesn’t know how to handle it better. But she deserves it. She deserves a man who worships her and has her best interest at heart.

This is why Sorrel didn’t let Manon sabotage her relationship. It was she who suggested therapy. If only for the relationship part. Baby steps, she doesn’t want to push Manon towards addressing her other issues when this is going on.

Manon took some time to become comfortable with the idea. It took hours for Sorrel to talk some sense into her, but she finally relented. She realized that she doesn’t want to leave Dorian, she loves him and wants to have a life with him. She doesn’t want anyone else, it’s either him or no one else.

She will keep this a secret. Her grandmother doesn’t have to know if only goes to therapy once a week to make her relationship work with Dorian.

Those therapy sessions weren’t easy at all. By the third one, she was ready to call it quits because it was opening up so many buried wounds and she couldn’t cope with that.

Sorrel wouldn’t let her quit though. She knows that Manon needs this kind of help and she’s so glad she realized it and took the first step. Sorrel will support her through it and even drive her to and from therapy (she did, it was the only way to make Manon go at one point)

At first, the therapy was about not sabotaging her relationship with Dorian. But as the therapist dug into the roots of this kind of sabotage, it was clear that her upbringing was the cause of all of this.

This is why the therapist referred her to another therapist because this is much bigger than just seeking a certain type of relationship.

Again, Sorrel was thrilled. Because yes, someone needed to dig deep enough to realize the amount of damage that’s been caused. And hopefully, work on fixing it.

Manon was very uncomfortable with the idea. She doesn’t want to speak about her life, her childhood, her grandmother. She loves her grandmother. She just needs to stop being careless and her grandmother is happy. She has internalized all of it, reasoning that her abuse and mistreatment are one hundred percent justified.

She also realized if the first therapist is referring her to someone more specialized, then she must be too broken to be fixed. And this is bad because:

A) Her grandmother is right, there is something fundamentally wrong with her and it can’t be fixed.

B) Dorian deserves so much better than this. So she must cut him loose rather than drag him down with her.

But she’s also a coward and can’t face telling him this. So she got Sorrel to help.

Sorrel listened to her and agreed. She will invite Dorian and speak to him. Manon will not be present, she will hide in Sorrel’s room and get herself used to not seeing Dorian ever again (the thought almost crushed her)

Dorian arrived earlier than the appointed time. Sorrel’s call scared him and he wondered what was wrong. If it’s about Manon and she isn’t the one telling him, then something is wrong.

Sorrel was calm, and she explained the situation to him. From start to finish.

Honestly, it’s all heavy stuff and Sorrel isn’t sure how Dorian is going to take it. Manon seems resigned that he’s going to leave, and Sorrel isn’t sure what to think of.

During their conversation Dorian asked multiple times where Manon is, and Sorrel diverted his attention every time. He did see her eyes fall on the closed door though, making him realize that Manon is close by.

At the end, he heard Sorrel loud and clear. If he leaves, Manon understands. She wouldn’t hold him back or make him stay. She’s too much baggage she isn’t sure she can handle herself, let alone burden someone else with her.

Hearing this, he stood up, his face unreadable.

“I would like to speak to my girlfriend,” He said in a non-negotiable tone.

Hearing him refer to Manon as such, Sorrel realized that he wasn’t leaving. He can judge her all he wants, she’s here looking out for Manon.

“She’s behind that door,” Sorrel looked at the closed door.

Dorian took offense at what Sorrel was insinuating. He wasn’t going to leave Manon just because of that. When it comes to love, he loves all of her. He doesn’t pick and choose what parts to love and what to hate.

If anything, he is glad she’s working with a professional to help her. He hates that she suffers alone like this. If she thinks her trauma and therapy is what’s going to send him away then she’s delusional.

He will especially stay to help her and support her during this time.

Walking into Sorrel’s room, he immediately went to the woman he loves. Holding her in his arms and wiping her tears, promising her that he won’t leave.

Also, telling her how proud he is that she is going to therapy.