#how have i never noticed the symbol on his back was gold

[lamina-tsrif]

if i may request a knifetrick poster with either 1 or 10 :D?

oh I’ve missed them so

[laurfilijames]

Breathe

Part 11

Pairing: Will "Ironhead" Miller x female reader

Words: 6.4K

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Alcohol consumption and smoking. Unprotected intercourse.

Summary: Will does something he never thought he would again, and after someone from his recent past seeks him out, things fall into place and call for celebration.

A/N: This is the second to last chapter and I'm feeling so bittersweet about it!! I can't believe how this world has unfolded and all the enthusiasm it's received, so a big thank you to everyone who has stuck with it and shared in my love for it! 💗 @whatever-lmaoo I hope you enjoy your scene! 🌌

Series Masterlist

The modest diamond was brighter than anything considering its size compared to some of the others, shining with impossible brilliance on its thin, yellow gold band as Will held the dainty ring between his fingers.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” he nodded, looking up at the jeweler who had been showing him engagement rings for the past hour.

It was the first one Will noticed when he started eyeing the vast and overwhelming array of rings, able to picture it clearly on your hand, but was persuaded by the salesman to continue exploring other options and not settle for the one that caught his attention first despite knowing in his heart that it was perfect. The rest of them were too large or flashy, some of the settings too elaborate and downright outrageous in cost, and Will knew something humble and simple would be the perfect token to help symbolize your love even though both of you felt no need to conform to any of the traditional ways that people were convinced validated a relationship.

“It’s a lovely choice, Sir,” he confirmed. “She’ll love it.”

Will blew out a breath to try to calm himself, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement, hardly able to believe he was doing something he never thought he would do again in his life.

He had just finished paying for half of it and set up the payments for the rest when his phone buzzed in his pocket, and answered it while waiting for the jeweler to return with the ring secured in its little box.

“Hey, Ben.”

“Where are you, man? You’re late. You’re never late,” Benny quizzed from the other end of the phone.

“Yeah, I know, sorry. Something took a little longer than I thought, I’ll be right over.”

“What the hell are you doing that’s more important than helping me train?”

Will laughed. “You’ll see, just get started without me, I’ll be there in ten.”

He hung up and thanked the jeweler for his help when he returned with the ring that Will couldn’t wait to put on your finger, making his way out of the store and over to the gym with a smile that couldn’t be wiped from his face.

“That was longer than ten minutes!” Benny called from the cage, his gloved hands raising up as he spoke.

“Dude, I’m sorry!” Will laughed, unable to shake this good mood despite his brother being annoyed by his tardiness.

“Why are you so happy? What were you doing? Actually, do I want to know that?”

Will chuckled again as he stepped into the cage, fishing the tiny box out of the pocket of his jeans.

“No, I will not marry you,” Benny joked as Will opened the box and presented it to him, both brothers erupting with laughter before embracing each other in a hug.

“That’s awesome, man, I’m really happy for you,” the younger Miller spoke, patting Will on the back while still in his grasp with his padded fists.

“Thanks, bro,” Will smiled sheepishly, looking at the ring one more time before closing the box and stowing it back safely in his pocket.

“Do you know when you’re gonna do it?”

Will sighed and shook his head, his eyebrows raised. “Whenever it feels right, I guess. I don’t really have a plan,” he admitted.

“You always have a plan.”

“I did until her,” he smiled, thinking of how much his life and the ways he went about things had changed since he met you. You had disrupted his life in the best way, taking the strict order of how he lived and the walls he built up for protection and dismantled it all, your love bringing him a freedom that wasn’t chaotic or terrifying. The way you turned his world upside down had actually put it the right way up, making him realize that all the things he thought he was doing right were actually wrong, your presence in his life healing wounds he never thought could be mended.

“Well however you do it, she’s gonna say yes and it’ll be perfect for you both,” Benny assured him. “It definitely won’t be like the first time!”

“Fuck no,” Will agreed, wishing he could erase his previous engagement to his ex, having been given ultimatums if he didn’t propose, the cost of the hideous ring she wanted so badly putting him in more debt than he could handle.

“Okay, can I punch you now?” Benny asked, bringing Will out of his past with a laugh, ducking as he threw a loose hit at his face.

The sun was beaming down hard on the back of Will’s neck as he walked through the front yard back and forth in neat rows, the loud buzz of the lawnmower drowned out by the music playing in his headphones.

With the weather being so nice and it being a Sunday, tons of people were out on the street; families walking with their young kids and dogs to the park, and a few older couples passing by the house hand in hand who gave Will a nod and smile as they strolled.

He was attentive to everything, already knowing what cars each neighbour drove and fairly in-tune with the consistency in their schedules, so when an unfamiliar car pulled up and parked in front of the house, it made Will pause and watch to see who it was.

An average looking woman stepped out, glancing at the house number before continuing to walk up the sidewalk to the driveway, and Will plucked his headphones out of his ears and shut off the lawnmower as he stared at her curiously.

She looked almost nervous, and in her hands she held a round dish, but when she gave him a sweet smile, Will couldn’t help but return it.

“Can I help you?” he asked, squinting in the sunlight.

“I sure hope so!” she exclaimed, her voice suiting her demeanour.

She stopped when she was a few steps away from Will, her arms moving as she spoke that told Will her hands would be flying about if she didn’t have something in them.

“I don’t mean to bother you, but your brother told me I would find you here.”

Will tilted his head slightly as he listened, leaning more onto the handle of the mower that he still held onto with one hand.

“At least I’m hoping you’re his brother!” she giggled, but Will remained quiet so she could continue explaining who she was and what she wanted. “You’re Will Miller?”

He nodded. “That’s me.”

“You’re a hard man to track down!” she blurted, her relief clear in her words.

Will smiled but still looked at her with confusion, prompting her to scold herself.

“Oh, listen to me! You poor man standing here as I’m going on and on and I haven’t even told you who I am!” She cradled the dish in one arm and extended her right hand out to him. “My name is Patsy, and my husband is whose life you saved last week.”

Will was taken aback as he took her hand and shook it, being surprised at her introduction an understatement.

“Wow, hi. It’s nice to meet you, Patsy,” he greeted.

“I really hope I’m not overstepping, but I just wanted to thank you. I went to the store and spoke with the manager who told me who you were…”

When she trailed off, Will knew why, nodding as he understood that the manager had explained to her both incidents that made Will's name a memorable one at Publix.

“So I looked you up but the last address listed was old and other people live there now…”

Will nodded again, knowing it was the house he had lived in with his ex, a sigh blowing past his lips.

“But then I saw there was another Miller listed and I got a hold of him, and oh your brother is just such a dear and he gave me this address. He told me you wouldn’t mind me stopping by and–”

“I don’t mind at all, Patsy, this is nice,” Will assured her, seeing her eyes light up. “How’s your husband doing?”

“Ron,” she started, and Will was happy to finally learn his name. “He’s recovering well and back home already.”

“That’s great!”

“It was our anniversary that day. Thirty-nine years now!” she explained, her eyes appearing wet. “He went to pick up a few things to make us a special dinner for it…to think he almost didn’t come back home…” Patsy said quietly, blinking quickly. “But thanks to you, we’ll hopefully be on our way to forty and more!”

“Wow, congratulations!” Will offered, genuinely, watching her wipe a stray tear from her cheek.

“Thank you, dear. We are both so grateful to you and we just don’t know how to thank you for what you did.”

Will shook his head. “It’s what anyone would’ve done. I’m just glad he’s okay.”

“Well, I’ve made you this pie. I don’t even know if you like pie…” she muttered under her breath, meeting his eyes again as she extended her arms to hold the dessert out for him. “It’s apple. Just give it a warm in the oven and it’s all set for you to enjoy.”

“Thank you,” Will beamed. “I’ve never been able to say no to pie and apple is my favourite.” He patted his stomach to assure her he loved to eat and she laughed, her kindness and warmth contagious.

“Is there someone you can share it with?” she asked, her question non-accusing or prying.

“Yeah, there is,” he confirmed, happily, any thought that went to you bringing out a bigger smile on his face.

“Oh, good. A sweet soul like yours deserves to be shared. Plus, you’re too damn handsome not to have someone!” She giggled at her own admission and clapped her hand on his forearm, patting it a couple of times before stepping away in the direction of her car.

“Thank you again, Will. You’re a good man.”

Will smirked and glanced at his shoes before meeting her eyes again, giving her one last smile and wave goodbye before turning to bring the pie inside the house.

Will still didn’t have a plan as to when he was going to pop the question, but it was even more on his mind now after his conversation with Patsy, realizing more than ever how precious life and love were, and he wanted to marry you on the spot if it was possible.

The rest of your Sunday had been blissful; cooking dinner together that was followed by two huge slices of the best apple pie both of you had ever tasted, and now your night was wrapping up in the best way you knew how with your naked bodies entangled after falling into bed straight from the shower.

Will hummed as he trailed his face up the side of your waist, his nose dragging along your soft skin that was still dotted with drops of water, the scent of your soap and the dampness clinging to you intoxicating him.

You moved to lay on your back, sighing out a pleasured noise as he continued to explore your bare torso with his lips, ghosting them over your stomach and hips, your hands smoothing over his upper back and through his wet hair.

He hummed again against your skin, the vibrations off his lips rumbling through so that it almost tickled, making you squirm beneath him.

With a slight chuckle, he grabbed your waist and pulled you with him as he rolled onto his back, guiding you to mount him where you looked down at him with a sweet smile, your hands splaying out on his chest.

“I wanna see you, sweetheart,” he purred, his eyes full of love and desire in the faint light from the lamp on your nightstand.

Your smile grew, the warmth from his adoration spreading through you like it was transferring from your fingertips that were connected to his chest and into every vein until it had you buzzing, his love for you always making you beam.

Water from your hair dripped down your shoulders and chest, the trails of it enhancing the curves of your breasts and valleys along your collarbones, catching Will’s eye as he watched you in awe.

You smoothed your hands from his pecs over to his arms, lacing your fingers with his as you leaned down to kiss him, your hands held securely together to support your forward motion, the water that fell from your saturated hair dropping onto his body where it peppered his clean, porcelain skin.

You breathed him in, your tongues beginning to tangle together as you settled on his groin, teasing yourself on his rigid cock that rested against your core.

A sharp inhale filled your lungs when his tip breached your entrance, filling just an inch of you with his leaking head yet still stretching your tight hole.

You rolled your hips forward, bringing him back out of you, only to have him angle his own when you seated yourself back on him again, pressing inside you a little deeper this time.

When you lifted off of him again, Will abandoned his connection with your hands and landed them on your upper thighs just below your hips, forcing you down on his length as he fully penetrated you with a growl that resounded in your mouth.

Your hands fell onto his head, raking through his hair as you deepened your kiss, grinding on his cock that slid in and out of you with your languid rhythm.

Will removed one of his hands off your waist and placed it on your cheek, gripping the side of your face with a demand that made your head spin as his need poured through his mouth, his kiss filling you with an equal want for more.

You broke away from his lips, your desire to ride him overpowering that to keep kissing him, moving your body against his faster, his flaxen hairs creating a mind-numbing friction on your clit.

“That’s it, baby,” he encouraged, his body tensing under yours as he took pleasure from your own. “Use me however you need.”

The roughness of his voice almost made you shiver, his offer to take whatever you needed from him to feel as good as possible making a cool heat shoot down your spine, and you sat up straighter, driving down hard against him while providing him a view of your body, his hands cupping your tits and plucking at your peaked nipples.

“Fuck me, you’re gorgeous,” he praised, his words making you tip your head back and increase your pace, hearing him grunt and moan with how good you were making him feel turning you on even more.

“Mmm, Will, I’m close,” you warned, your breathing ragged and your caution a whine.

“Come on, I want to feel you come on me.”

Your eyes were closed tightly as you focused on chasing down your high, and Will found it impossible for you to look more stunning now than you always did, your parted lips spilling moans while your body rocked and bounced on his.

“I want you– fuck! – I want you to cum in me, Will!”

“Yeah? I’m right there too, baby,” he growled, bucking up into you to prove it as he gave up on trying to hold back.

“God, I love you,” he called, completely enamoured by you.

“I love you too, Will,” you answered, your nails digging into his chest, feeling yourself start to come apart on his thick cock.

Will felt overcome by every emotion, and the thought of putting a ring on your finger sent him through the roof, pulsing hot ropes into you the moment he felt you start to clench around him.

He kept his eyes open to see you experience your orgasm despite wanting to close his own from how amazing it all felt, desperate to watch you fall into bliss and never able to get over the fact that he was the one buried inside you while you did.

Your fingertips gripped in the flesh on his heaving chest as you settled from your high, your eyes opening to meet with his, but you continued to rock your hips against his groin as you selfishly indulged in his warm, thick cum lubricating your tingling walls, and suddenly you were thrown into another climax.

Will held onto your waist tightly, forcing you to stay on his cock and take what you needed from him despite him having finished already, watching you with complete captivation as you quaked and jolted uncontrollably on top of him.

“Good girl,” he grunted, panting out his breath as he tried to hang on for you.

Your broken wails filled the air, combining with the addicting sound of the mix of wet between your legs, and fully exhausted from pleasure, you collapsed forward onto him in a heap, your breath hot on the sweaty skin on his neck.

Will stroked your hair and back, soothing you as you came back to reality while he remained on cloud nine, his heart pounding furiously in his chest.

You whined against his neck as he slipped out of you, and he continued to caress you and keep you close to him, pressing a kiss on your temple.

“Hey, you’re alright, sweetheart. You did so well.”

His hand cradled the side of your face when you uprighted yourself, stroking his thumb on your dewy cheek, his smile soft as he took in your almost delirious look.

“Why don’t you go get yourself cleaned up?” he offered, reluctantly letting you go as you nodded in agreement and removed yourself from straddling his lap.

Will laid there for a minute, watching you retreat into the ensuite bathroom before quietly moving off the bed to reach for his jeans, checking over his shoulder to be sure you hadn’t come back in yet as he grabbed the small box from his pocket and plucked out the dainty ring.

He closed it in his hand as he settled back into the sheets, his breath shaky as he stared up at the ceiling and tried his best not to smile too big.

You came back in and climbed into the bed with a bright smile that made his heart scream in his chest and met it with the broadest one of his own, relieved he didn’t have to try to disguise it now.

“Hmm, that was incredible, baby,” you praised, your words coming off your tongue like you were still reliving every moment of it, hovering over him before leaning down to kiss his lips.

He moaned into your mouth, his hand that wasn’t secured around the secret token he held rubbing up along your back, pulling you closer to him as he deepened your kiss and felt you melt into him.

You let your body lay completely on his, your tongues tangling together as if you were making up for the lack of kisses when you had rode him, and the small yelp you gave when he flipped you over onto your back and covered you with his weight was absorbed into his mouth that stayed locked on yours.

A deep breath filled his lungs and transferred into yours, inhaling your scent and everything about you as he nudged your left arm that was wrapped around his neck with his, gently forcing it onto the mattress where he trailed the back of his closed fist up the inside of your arm until he reached your palm.

Your fingers were extended and relaxed, toying with the sheets as your focus remained on your kiss, and carefully, Will adjusted his fingers until he had a grip on the band and slowly slipped it onto your ring finger.

He could feel your features move against his face as you tried to work out what was happening, and finally letting your lips part from each other, Will looked down at you to watch your reaction as you moved your hand that was still held in his into your view.

A shuddered breath escaped your parted lips and your eyes glistened with tears, and Will’s heart felt like it was either going to stop or jump right out of his chest when you looked from the sparkling ring on your trembling hand over to him, and somehow, he found his words.

“I want you to be my wife,” he spoke carefully and purposefully, his eyes locked on yours.

Your expression turned serious, and Will could see your pulse hammering violently in the side of your neck and swore he could hear your heart thumping like mad.

“You do?” you breathed, your fingers dancing with his, accentuating the feeling of the foreign piece encircling your skin.

“I do.”

Those two words made the corner of his mouth turn up in an astonished smile as the realization of actually saying it to each other one day soon hit him; what had seemed unimaginable that you could be his forever suddenly plausible and more real than anything.

In his next breath, he steadied his emotions, readying himself to legitimize the moment by officially asking the question he had rehearsed in his head over and over, his fingers closing between yours where he held your hand tightly.

“Will you marry me?”

You nodded quickly, tears springing from your eyes furiously as a sob that mixed with a laugh blew past your lips.

“Yes, Will!”

He squeezed your hand three times and crashed against your lips as you returned the silent gesture, feeling the most incredible sense of relief and peace flowing through him, the love he had for you incomparable to anything else that existed and something he would spend the rest of his life proving to you.

Within two days you and Will had decided exactly what you wanted for your wedding day, and without wasting any more time in knowing that you wanted to be made husband and wife as soon as you could, you were hosting an engagement party in your backyard to celebrate with friends and family before the set day that was now less than a week away.

“I still can’t believe I’m not invited,” Benny scoffed, his blatant disapproval for your decision to elope making Will laugh and shake his head.

“Sorry, man. It’s not like you’re the only one who won’t be there. We just want something quiet,” Will explained for the third time to his brother.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” he said with attitude before taking a sip of his beer.

“At least we’re doing this,” Will offered, motioning to the party happening around them.

“Yeah, I’m sincerely shocked you didn’t just up and leave without a word to anyone,” he said pointedly. “Selfish prick,” he added under his breath, earning him a hard shove on the shoulder.

“Fuck off, man,” Will laughed. “Maybe you’ll understand it one day.” He motioned over to where Jess was standing talking to you and the other girls, hoping that Benny had found his forever just like he had.

“No way. We will have everyone we love there. Hundreds of people. Maybe even our kids!”

Will raised his brows in surprise. “Is that so?”

“Damn right,” Benny confirmed, staring at Jess with a look in his eyes that explained everything anyone would ever need to know about their blooming relationship. “I want her to have my babies right away.”

“Well I’m looking forward to being an uncle very much,” Will grinned, draping his arm over Benny’s shoulder to give it a squeeze.

“Well, boys, it wouldn’t be a proper celebration without some cigars, now would it?” Santiago announced after walking over to them, lifting the lid open on a box that contained what Will knew had to be some pricey cigars.

“Frank! Tom, get over here!” he called, handing each of his Delta Force brothers one.

“We gotta get a picture of this!” Tom exclaimed in a loud muffle as he already had his stuck between his teeth, wrapping his arms around both Millers that he wedged himself between.

Molly was right there and ready with her phone to snap a photo, the five of them standing with their arms around each other with their lit cigars hanging from their mouths, the biggest smiles on their faces.

“Say cheese!”

The night had been even more wonderful than you had imagined it would be; the love and joy in the air infectious and making you wonder even more if this was all real, still finding yourself caught off-guard whenever you moved your fingers on your left hand and felt something you weren’t yet accustomed to and catching yourself mesmerized with how the ring looked on your hand.

Half of the people you invited had no idea of your engagement, simply inviting them over for a casual get-together, so being able to hold up your hand to show off your gorgeous ring and see their shocked reaction was half the fun, and witnessing how happy and excited everyone was for you and Will made your heart feel like it would burst.

It made you question if your choice to elope was the right thing to do, but as the night came to a close and it was just you and Will left on your own, you knew it was everything you wanted.

You had just finished the last of the cleanup, thankfully with the help of Frankie and a couple of others who refused to leave you and Will to do it all on your own, and were standing in the middle of the yard looking up at the indigo sky littered with stars after you had turned all but one of the outside lights off.

Will’s soft, but sure footsteps in the grass could be heard coming up behind you, and you smiled when his arm slipped around you, holding you close to him with his hand splayed out on your stomach, his chin resting on your shoulder where he looked up to the same point in the sky that you were.

“Hmm, what a night,” you sighed, happily, turning in his arms to face him.

“Did you have fun?” he asked, looking down at you lovingly with his hands resting on your hips.

You nodded as your grin stretched across your lips. “So much fun. It was perfect.”

You craned your neck and pecked a kiss on his lips and it took everything in you to pull away, choosing to satisfy your need to keep touching them by tracing your fingertip along the crease beside his mouth and then across the bow of his upper lip.

“What about you? What did you think?”

Will pursed his lips as he thought. “Well, I always have a good time when I’m with you,” he beamed, smirking crookedly at you. “But it solidifies that as much as I love being around our friends and family, I really want this to just be between us.”

“Good, because I feel the same,” you confirmed, feeling him relax after hearing your mutual views shared again despite knowing it was what you both wanted.

He was quiet, and in the moonlight you could see something hinting in his icy eyes.

“What else are you thinking, Miller?”

“How beautiful you look tonight. That dress…”

He growled as he bit his lip, angling his hips into you with implication, his hands tightening their grip on you to make you squirm and giggle.

You had found the little, white dress online and ordered it the moment you laid eyes on it, knowing Will would lose his mind over it, the bit of sweet with the large bow at the small of your back mixed with how sexy it was with the low neckline and short hem a lethal combination.

“Yeah? And what would you like to do to me in this dress?”

Your head tilted innocently to the side as you peered up at him through your lashes, your hands splaying over his broad chest that radiated so much warmth in contrast to the night air that had cooled significantly in the absence of the sun.

Will let out a low growl as his hands began to gather the skirt of your dress, lifting it up to access the white, lacy thong you had on beneath it, ripping them down your hips roughly.

“Let me show you, sweetheart.”

A deranged giggle fueled by lust and anticipation came out of your mouth as you leaned back against Will’s arm that was wrapped around your middle, letting your body hang loosely for him to do whatever he wanted with, and he smirked at your submission as he let his other hand slide between your legs to fondle your bare sex.

His fingers parted your lips, finding you already wet for him and spread your slick up to your clit and then back to your waiting hole, the action eliciting a long moan from you.

“Fuck, Will…” you breathed, gripping his shoulder tight to support you more. “Here?” you asked, grinding yourself on his hand even with questioning getting fucked in the semi-privacy of your own backyard.

He nodded, looking at you smugly. “Yeah,” he answered, nonchalantly and extremely cocky. “I’ve fucked you in far riskier places.”

You hummed a laugh as you let your eyes close, relishing in his touch rather than worrying if any neighbours would be up and out at this time of night anyway, and realizing they’d probably heard and seen you at least once or twice was a severe understatement.

His index finger slid inside you and then he added his middle one, filling you and stretching you with each stroke in and out, his breathing growing ragged that told of his faltering ability to resist fucking you right away whether you wanted him to wait or not.

You let your hand that was resting on his forearm sink down to the bulge in his shorts, taking hold of his hard cock through the material where you began to gently stroke it in languid motions.

His forehead rested against yours, his breath hot on your lips as he started to finger you faster and harder, your touch driving him wild.

“Do you remember the first time I fucked you?” he asked, his voice gruff from the cigar you watched him smoke earlier, pulling out a smile on your lips.

“Mmm, how could I ever forget?”

“I couldn't stop myself, and I still can't. You make me lose all control…take over every part of me that fights for some fraction of restraint…” He kissed your lips, claiming and wanting, his fingers hooking inside you to stroke your g-spot and make you jolt into him, your grip tightening on his cock.

Moving along your jawline, he ground his body against yours, getting as close to each other as possible as you both worked each other with your hands, his mouth smearing over to your neck.

“And fuck do I ever love you for it,” he growled, the tone of his voice sending a shiver down your spine that only increased when his teeth nipped at your pulse that hammered in your neck.

“You were just a slut taking my cock in the change room, and now you're gonna be my wife…” he uttered, his voice trembling with lust and excitement, the words vibrating against your sensitive skin.

You released your hold on his straining dick and pulled at his shirt, forcing him to abandon your cunt as you lifted it quickly over his head, a steely gaze shared between you before crashing against each other’s lips again.

The skin on his chest was impossibly warm to your palms as you smoothed them over his thick pecs, moaning into him as he teased your clit with the pads of his fingers that were wet from you, the band of your ring twisting as you slid your hand up to hold the side of his neck.

He peeled his mouth away from yours again, hovering against your lips as he spoke with a hoarseness in his tone. “You want it rough, sweetheart?”

“Mhm,” you whined, nodding your head as your other hand returned to his cock.

“That’s my girl,” he smiled, resting his forehead against yours again as he undid the button and zipper on his shorts and pulled them down his legs. “My wife…”

You gasped at both the sound of him calling you his wife and from him turning you around so quickly you didn’t even have a chance to react, his hands clawing at your hips to pull them back against his groin where you were given no other choice but to take his cock.

He dragged it between your folds only once before slamming it in, one of his hands fisting your hair to angle your head back, the arch of your body accentuating where the pretty bow on your dress sat at the dip of your lower back.

Something between a laugh and a surprised noise came from you, already satisfied by him keeping his word to fuck you roughly, your hands carding down your own bare thighs sensually until they landed on your knees to support the back blows you were about to receive.

Will didn’t fuck around, already hammering against your ass quickly with sharp enough thrusts they almost stung your cheeks, the sensation of his full balls swinging forward to knock your clit sending you into a frenzy.

“Fuck that pussy is so good, baby,” he said through gritted teeth, his breaths coming out heavy and laboured as he worked hard at ruining you.

His grip tightened slightly on your hair as he let go of your hips with the other, bringing it around to hold the front of your neck, his palm resting on your windpipe while his fingers squeezed the sides of your column gently.

You whined as a shiver shot down your spine, feeling dizzy and overcome by so much pleasure, and unable to resist adding even more to the combination, you reached one of your hands between your legs and started rubbing your swollen clit harshly.

“Good girl, you’re gonna come hard on my cock aren’t you?” he asked with a trace of amusement in his voice, and you knew what kind of feral look would be in his eyes if you could see them.

Your body responded to his question, jolting as ecstasy took over control of your nervous system, everything acting on its own accord in an uncontrolled way thanks to the intense actions of the man behind you.

You squeezed his cock in gripping pulses, tightening around him like a vice until you heard his grunts grow louder, the sound music to your ears.

“God damn!” he howled, increasing his pace to something almost barbaric, and goosebumps erupted on your skin at the thrill of it.

Will let his hand that was around your neck slip down your chest, roughly pawing at the low neckline of your dress until your tits spilled out, his fingers squeezing the fleshy curve of one of them as they shook to his movements.

Your moans and cries were growing louder as each second passed, and suddenly aware that any of your neighbours could hear you clear as day, you did your best to stifle them, but Will was quick to correct you.

“Don’t hold back, sweetheart. I wanna hear you scream.”

“Fuck!” you bellowed, instantly complying as he pounded into you even harder, and after a couple more sharp blows, you had no way of holding back anymore.

Your orgasm tore through you, your body tensing and stilling in meeting his movements leaving him to fuck you through your paralyzing high, your euphoric screams filling the quiet, night air.

Incoherent strings of praise spilled from your open mouth as you came back down to earth, hearing his satisfied chuckle sound in your ears that he’d made you cause such a scene.

“God, Will, fill me up. Please!” you begged, rocking your hips to meet his thrusts again.

“Yeah, you’re gonna get that load, baby…” he hissed. “...fill up that fucking cunt.”

You gasped as he somehow managed to increase his pace again, relentless in his pursuit of fucking you until you were dripping with his cum, his wild grunts telling you he had lost any ways of holding back.

He started to release inside you, but still slammed his cock in and almost all the way out of you as he came, his hot, thick load getting everywhere from deep in your cervix to all over your tingling lips that were stretched out on his girth.

Will stumbled slightly as he finally finished, his stamina faltering and his legs slightly shaking from his efforts, a deranged laugh decorating his words.

“I fucking love you, sweetheart,” he claimed, joyfully.

He grabbed your chin, his fingers digging into your cheeks without care as he turned your face toward him, leaning down to kiss you sloppily, the sweat that clung to his beard transferring onto your lips.

Will righted himself after stealing your breath, pulling out of you unceremoniously where you moaned from the loss of his fullness inside you, feeling his cum leaking out and starting to trail down your inner thigh.

You stood and smoothed your hair back, turning to face your future husband who looked more gorgeous than ever, his body slick with a generous layer of sweat that glowed in the silvery moonlight.

He smiled crookedly at you, a lazy, sated look on his perfect features as his chest heaved while he still struggled for breath, his eyes gleaming even more of a vibrant blue, looking like some sort of god in front of you that had you dumbstruck.

“I can’t believe how lucky I am that I get to be fucked by you for the rest of my life,” you uttered, your honest thoughts falling off your tongue in your blissful haze.

Will chuckled and held your waist, nodding in agreement.

“Damn right, sweetheart.”

Your smile was covered by his mouth, his kiss claiming and radiating a happiness through you that had become so frequent recently, breathing him in deeply as you swept your hands up his slippery chest and reminded yourself once again that you had all of this to look forward to every day.

---

Taglist:

@sotwk @dailydragon08 @sunnys-day @thedreadandthefugitivemind @glassgulls

@littlenosoul @glitterypirateduck @momia2910 @maggotzombie @rmwarn90

@paintlavillered @casa-boiardi @stealfromthedevil @kmc1989 @justreblogginfics

@spaghettificationandpretzels @whatever-lmaoo @steviebbboi @charethcutestory02

@daryldixonpls @christinhunnam @hp-hogwartsexpress

[flametrashiraarchive]

YOUR DOUMA HEAD CANNONS WERE SO GOODDD you should write about him more ^_^

☺️ thank you!

I will never pass up the chance to write more about the murder pookie. Part one here!

NSFW under the cut.

CW for oral sex while sleeping

DOUMA HEADCANONS 2

Have I mentioned that this man is a menace?

One time he had you sit in his lap with your back to his chest while he was delivering a sermon.

His cock was inside you the entire time. And you can bet this fucker dragged the sermon out.

"Stay completely still. Nobody must suspect a thing. If you're a good pet, you'll be rewarded when they leave."

If his disciples noticed they didn't let on.

But he loved it. Couldn't stop grinning whenever your muscles desperately clenched and twitched around his cock.

Finally let you start riding when you were alone again, his elegant fingers and soft hands assisting you with orgasm after orgasm.

Singsongs your name when he wants attention and you're otherwise occupied. If you dont reply right away he gets whiny.

Many assume he's airheaded because of his playful nature. But Douma is incredibly cunning.

And he loves you because you recognize that in him.

"You're smart too, for a human."

Loves to talk about grand philosophies while you're fucked out and slipping into sleep. Nudges you awake so he can keep talking to you.

Sends you out alone to buy flowers since the flower market is only open during the day. He trusts you to return to him. Knows you're just as smitten with him as he is with you. Loves the flowers you pick. Lets you braid them into his hair.

Loves to walk you through the city at night, a slender, gold chain around your neck, connected to an identical one around his wrist.

All symbolic of course, but oh so pretty.

Lets you paint his nails.

Gets away with literal murder because you find him adorable.

Extra snuggly and needy after the upper moon meeting. They were so cold to him 🥺

Leaves his little fangs sticking out against his bottom lip if you're in a grumpy mood.

Loves petting your hair and your skin. Will order the finest oils and bejeweled combs to preen his "soft, pretty little pet."

Buys you the prettiest clothes. Sits cross-legged on the floor and applauds you when you try them on for him.

The oral fixation on this guy...

He doesn't require sleep, so sometimes when you're asleep and he's bored, he likes to get between your knees and... wake you up 👀

Loves how you squirm and whimper in your sleep. You belong to him when conscious and in your dreams.

Tried masturbating after he figured out he could cum. Wasn't all that into it. Felt kinda lonely.

Experimented with jerking off in front of you while you pleasured yourself for him, which was a little more fun, but he only really cums when he's fucking you.

Enjoys seeing you wear his "pearls"

Loves to cook for you! And he's really good at it too. Will never share his recipes.

Has had intrusive thoughts about sharing you... especially with Muzan. The thought of his master coveting his beloved... *shivers*

Oh but he couldn't bear to see his favorite toy get broken.

He adores you far too much to let anything happen to you.

[tragicdruid]

Heyy can I request wanderer and admiring his puppet features? Like his joints, cracks (personal headcanon!!), electro symbol,etc

Pairing: Wanderer x Reader

Contains: Fluff, platonic(?) relationship, Akademiya life

A/N: I wrote a similar thing for Scaramouche a while back. Link to it here! Hope you like this version!

——x——

Seated side by side, you and Wanderer were studying for an upcoming exam. Well, at least, one of you was studying and it sure wasn't you.

You stopped around 10 minutes ago, having gotten bored of reading over the same notes and passages over and over again. The two of you have been here for at least an hour, and you simply can't wrap your mind around how he can work without taking any breaks for so long. Your cheek is resting in your palm as you lazily scan the library, watching other students nearby for a bit before turning your attention to your silent companion.

You watch him write, looking as cool and aloof as he always does, sharp indigo eyes never leaving his book. He's effortlessly elegant somehow, and you find yourself staring at his hands. He has a firm grip on his pen, the rounded joints of his knuckles and fingers visible as he writes. Your curious if the rest of his body has similar joints like where his head meets his neck. You've never bothered to ask since it seems impolite despite your friendship.

Your gaze then wanders towards the crack in his jaw and the way it climbs up across his cheek, past an eye then stretches over his forehead -- at least what you can see of it. It's as if the skin was molded back together with gold, akin to reformed broken pottery. It's beautiful in a way that is unique to him and only him. It's almost criminal how beautiful he is.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer."

You blink once, having not realized he had noticed you admiring him. Though it's not like you were being subtle with the way you were staring all starry eyed and curious.

"Really? Can I?" You tease, making a show of reaching into your bag for your imaginary kamera.

He sighs at your shenanigans and returns his attention to his notes, the slightest quirk of his lip visible.

"Don't be ridiculous. And quit making a scene," he chuckles, pointer finger tapping his pen as he considers flicking your nose with it to shut you up so he can concentrate.

You roll your eyes and lean in slightly, raising your head from your hand. "Look at you acting all cool just because you know you're pretty."

"Pretty?" he scoffs in disbelief, an amused look on his face as he turns to look at you. "Flattery isn't going to save your grades. Now quit looking at me and focus."

You drum your fingers on the table in boredom, refusing to break eye contact. "Oh come on. It's not flattery, just take the compliment. You're pretty!"

You grin cheekily, reaching over to try and pluck his pen from his fingers. He easily evades your attempt and lightly smacks your hand with his pen in retaliation. "Fine, but don't expect any gratitude," he concedes with an entertained smirk.

Raising his pen once more, he spins it so the bottom is pressed against the side of your cheek. With one smooth movement, he pushes your face back in the direction of your notes.

"Now get to reading, dunce."

[whispereons]

Oracle!Reader Part 23

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 22, Part 24

Warning! This is a SAGAU imposter au so this is pretty gory and not happy all the time. Plus yandere but that's the expected for SAGAU.

Xingqiu and Chongyun both showed muddled emotions at your words of leaving Liyue.

“That may be best for you…” Chongyun says first as he keeps his gaze on the floorboards.

“Yes, I agree. Although I never expected that you would have to leave Liyue so soon, it's clear that you aren't safe here.” 

Xingqiu’s words that were full of understanding still had disappointment sprinkled in.

“We can't do much to help you when it comes to Ningguang, but Mondstadt is a different story. Do you have the talisman on you right now?”

Chongyun takes a few steps closer as you lift the amulet for him to see. He rubs one finger on it, examining the symbol that appears at the action.

“It's still at full charge, good. The road to Mondstadt can either be empty or full of demons depending on the day. But once you get to Wangshu Inn, it becomes much safer.”

“Because of Xiao, right? Despite how the situation looked when I first met the Adepti, I'm on relatively good terms with them now.”

It was a bit risky telling them this, but they both deserved to know at this point.

“When are you planning on leaving? Is your meeting with Ningguang today?” Switching the topic, Xingqiu brings the focus back to the most pressing issue.

Nodding, you answer. “My meeting is with her today, but I'll probably have to leave either at midnight or early tomorrow morning. The sooner, the better.”

“Then I can offer you some help that should make staying in Mondstadt a bit easier.” Xingqiu grins as he takes out paper and some ink. “I happen to know someone-”

“Albedo, right?” Cutting off Xingqiu as you think back to his connection, you continue. “Together you made the book, uh what was the name again? A Legend of a Sword? It got pretty popular in Inazuma. I remember there was a whole festival on light novels that you both attended too.”

Once you stop, you notice Xingqiu squinting his eyes at you before replying. “That's really creepy, you know? If I didn't know you were the Oracle, then I would have believed you to be some stalker.”

“If I was, then I wouldn't be stalking you of all people.” You snapped back as he grins while shaking his head.

“But yes, I'll send Albedo a letter in advance so that he can arrange for you to be settled nicely over there. I won't mention the Oracle situation as the Creator didn't want you to be known widely like that.”

It's been so long since you last heard the title ‘Creator’ be mentioned despite the fact that all of your problems come from their supposed existence.

Only goes to show just how ingrained the Creator is in this world.

“Thanks Xingqiu. Albedo is the chief alchemist and well respected among the community, so I should be in safe hands.”

Xingqiu merely hums in response as Chongyun tugs the amulet closer to him.

“Just trying to apply a better talisman on it.” He mumbles in accordance with your stare as he settles himself closer to you.

He's basically pressed against your side, but you strangely don't feel uncomfortable to have him close.

As the pair focus on their own activities, your mind wanders off to Albedo.

Albedo, the chief alchemist and homunculus created by Gold, the famous Khaenri'an scientist. Khaenri'ah, which also held so much information that could be connected to Celestia…

It was a long shot, but you could try digging for information about Celestia from him. The deal that Celestia made with Teyvat still bothers you to no end. With the age of this deal unknown, you might even have to look into the primordial dragons if it's even older than the Archon war.

A light shining brought you back to the present and your eyes flickered down to where the amulet shined in Chongyun’s hands.

Once it died down to reveal a more intricate symbol than before, Chongyun nodded, satisfied with the final product.

“This one is a lot stronger and should last longer now. I know you can fight well, but the demonic energy in Bishui Plain and Qiongji Estuary has shown to rise around this time of the year.”

Carefully taking the amulet from him, you thumbed the symbol with curious eyes. “I get it, thank you. Does it activate on its own, or do I have to activate it with something?”

“It'll work on its own. Depending on the amount and degree of demonic energy around it, the workings will change.”

Motioning with his hands, Chongyun’s calm voice explains the working to you. At the end of the rather lengthy explanation, you nod and condense the information in your mind.

“And now that Instructor Chongyun is done teaching you, I'm happy to say that I'm done with the letter. Have been for a while, but I saw no need to interrupt the oh so fascinating lecture.”

Raising the letter, Xingqiu lazily waved it as Chongyun bristled but ultimately said nothing.

“I can send this once I get home. Unfortunately, neither me nor Chongyun will be available to accompany you through your journey.”

Xingqiu tsk’d at his own words while Chongyun turned his head away, visibly sulking.

“My family was just hired to check out Wuwang Hill and my attendance for this is mandatory. Xingqiu’s father is forcing him to stay and attend meetings with his brother for the week as well.”

All you could do was smile sadly in response.

Before long they were both forced to leave by Baizhu who insisted on total privacy for the reviewing of your medication and discharge.

Watching them climb down the stairs from the window in your room, you listen absentmindedly to Baizhu.

Changsheng still refused to see you. Something Tevyat was clearly displeased with, as the once sunny weather quickly turned cloudy. The cold-blooded creature must be huffing in annoyance by now.

“And this is the overview of medication and supplements to take, with the doses and dates to take them.”

Casually looking over the paper received from the shady snake bastard, you hummed for a moment before stuffing it into your bag.

“All of it is paid for by your special benefactor. And the drug you requested has already been paid with by your body, as we both know.”

‘Must he phrase it like that?’ You internally questioned as you snatch the medication and shove it into your bag.

“I'm glad for it. Maybe even more so if she didn't pin so many babysitters onto me.”

At your grumble, Baizhu’s smile wavered at the edges. Either he truly hadn't known why there was extra ‘security’ or he was a great liar. You suspect it's a bit of both.

“Then if everything has been covered, I’m happy to say that you're officially discharged as of-” He merely glanced at the sun still high in the sky before finishing. “1300. I sincerely hope that the next time we meet you'll be in a better physical state.”

“And I sincerely wish we never have to meet again.” The words you utter are full of sarcasm, something Baizhu simply chuckles at.

“Now what could I have possibly done to deserve your ire, dear Oracle?”

“It's what you haven't done. A little heads up about all the guards would have been nice.”

“Oh, but I did!” His smile seems a little sharper as he leans toward you, his glasses sliding down to the bridge of his nose. “Didn't I let you know early on that there were quite a lot of guards?”

With an annoyed scoff, you snap back. “You said it was due to the two temples nearby, not cause Ningguang wanted to keep an eye on me.”

Raising his hands with wide eyes, Baizhu tried to placate you. “I'm not part of the Millelith, how on earth could a physician like me know the true reasoning?”

Holding his gaze, you tried to discern what he was truly thinking at this moment. Malice? Amusement? Mocking kindness?

But at that moment, all you could see was genuine surprise in his eyes. It only served to confuse you further.

Was Baizhu truly innocent in this? Your instincts in situations like these were usually correct. Besides, what would Baizhu even gain from deceiving you?

Still, that didn't explain why Baizhu was always so damn shady, but maybe you should chalk it up to an unfortunate side effect of being contracted with a snake.

“Well, then let me reiterate my earlier words. While I still hope we won't have to meet again. I do wish for us to want to meet again.”

Baizhu lowers his arms while fixing his glasses to laugh, the sound is surprisingly tender. “And how do you expect me to tell when that would be? I’m no mind reader.”

Standing up, you stay silent as you slip your bag over your shoulders and move past him. The door opens with a creak as you tilt your head slightly to meet his eyes.

“To put it simply, I’ll want to see you when you discover whatever is hidden in my culture sample.”

The door clicks shut as you leave Bubu’s Pharmacy for good.

----------------------------

After a brief but firm pat to Qiqi’s head, you walk down the stairs casually. The slight rustling of the leaves, the fabric of curtains drawn, and the quieting of chatter are all brought to your attention.

Ningguang’s spies and the Millelith guards are all watching you like rabid dogs, waiting for you to slip up and give them an excuse to arrest you right now. 

Smiling without hesitation, you get to the last step and pretend that the forced conversations around you aren't scripted, and that the eyes locked on you are of a curious bystander and not the ones of detectives.

Bringing your attention back to the list you have clenched in your hand, you read the first errand on the list.

Return books to library.

Easy enough, and it's even easier when people seem to automatically avoid being in your path.

Is this what a day in Xinyan's life feels like? It's honestly not that bad.

At least you thought so until you got to the counter and waited for the receptionist to return.

Five minutes pass. Then ten minutes, which quickly turn into fifteen in a blink of an eye. You can feel your mood worsening.

Deciding to test something, you walk away from the library and turn the corner. Peeking around the corner, you watch as the ‘customer’ that was standing in the corner all those minutes gets to the counter. Almost immediately, a swarm of people return to it.

Sighing heavily, you ignore the weight of suspicious stares and turn the corner back into the library. Getting back into line feels humiliating, but it's just a quick errand, you tell yourself.

No one moves out of the way, but the quick glances they send you make them pale with each minute.

Not a soul dares to stand behind you.

It's finally your turn, and you place your books on the table with the last bit of patience you had. She doesn't meet your eyes and mumbles something.

“I'm sorry, what did you say?” Leaning closer, you try to catch her words, only for her to yell.

“It's lunchtime now so I can't accept any more returns or purchases. H-Have a good-d da-ay!”

Flabbergasted at the sheer audacity, you watch her flip a sign on the table and flee the area.

“Fuck this shit.” Colorful curses leave you as you drop all the books haphazardly on the table and storm away.

Crossing it off the list, you follow the main path to the next errand.

Collect reward from Guild

That commission should have given you one hell of a paycheck the last time you checked. Primogems may be worthless now, but you could use the Mora the commission provides.

Plus, you needed to let them know to change it to the Mondstadt region.

Lost in thought of all the technicalities and paperwork you would have to fill out, you weren't focusing on the fleeting whispers around you.

“Is that them?”

“Who else could it be?”

“What a monster…”

“-as long as we get paid.”

“Who cares about-”

“It's me or them.”

“As long as it's them and not me.”

Your experience at the guild was a much kinder one. Katheryne was the epitome of professionalism, just as you remembered her to be. Not that you expected much else from a robot.

After handing all the written work to her, you finally noticed the absence of a certain person.

“Where’s that grouchy Lan? She's usually here, isn't she?” Checking the vicinity, you try to spot the brown recognizable bob.

“The Branch Master Lan is currently undertaking a commission at this time.”

“About the unseen razor, right?”

“That can not be disclosed to unauthorized-”

“It's fine. I’ll see you later, Katheryne.” Turning around, you leave without another thought. Lan wasn't anywhere near the ‘threatening’ list you've created since you last saw her.

Pick up plushie

Crossing out the previous task, you look at the present one with mixed emotions. On one hand, you were happy to get a chance to see something related to Earth, to your world. But at the same time, you couldn't help but wonder if it would serve more as a distraction than anything else. The memories it brought up never failed to leave your heart troubled…

Remembering the money you spent commissioning it ultimately tipped the scales, and so you dragged your feet to the little old lady’s toy shop.

It was empty just as the first time you were there as she hummed. If she was a vision holder you'd guess Hydro judging by the tranquility she radiated.

Her eyes meet yours and a happy smile slips onto your face without much thought.

“Here to pick up the toy, dearie?”

“Yup.” Popping the ‘p’, you watched as she gathered a delicately wrapped box from under the other boxes and presented it to you.

“Enjoy the nostalgic memories a toy can bring.”

You politely thank her before taking the present and walking away. The weight of the box is heavy with dread, and you can only find solace in the fact she didn't refer to it as ‘happy’ memories.

Once sufficiently out of sight, you take to grasping the lid. But you couldn't bring yourself to remove it.

Too many memories. All of them are rushing in and filled with conflicting feelings that would surely crush you. The fear and selfishness of the broken promises and unfulfilled desires would throw you off your game.

With a little too much enthusiasm, you stuff the box of the cat plushie into your bag.

Most likely to stay forgotten and distant from the present you're facing.

Scratching it off harder than the rest, you get to the last errand.

Refill supplies

A smart and mature move considering how you used the whole Medkit during the chase. The soggy bandages and washed away ointment really hurt your heart and wallet.

Revisiting the same shops you went to the first time proved to be ineffective. Either they were completely sold out or no longer supplying them.

Forced to visit more stores, you had to walk around the city a lot more than you cared to. Each store had one of the two situations, and the skittish actions of everyone around you were just the cherry on top.

At one point you even tried to buy the individual items separately, and even that failed.

It's not like you could just wait till next week for the first shipment. You weren't even sure you would live till then.

Eventually, you found yourself sulking on the lower docks, turning the situation around in your head.

If only you lived in Liyue for a little longer, maybe you could have found some of the hidden shops. Befriend a store owner and get a hidden one.

Just who the hell would even go out of their way to get every medical first aid part when it's such a crucial item for so many people in this era?

A name finally comes to mind and your expression sours at the thought. Not that you’d let it show, Celestia knows how many guards are watching you at this moment-

A sudden, rapid series of taps on your shoulder has you spinning around in surprise.

A young boy stands before you. The clothes he wears has visible wear and tear as the fabric frays from the edges. Yet you can't help but think you might have seen him before.

Placing a finger on his lips, he uses his other hand to grab hold of your elbow and tug you along.

Surprised but not suspicious of the kid, you let him lead you deeper into the docks. The dark red of his eyes seem to glow within the shadows as his dirty blond hair acts as your beacon of light.

The smell of fresh fish turns rotten, and the dirt caked under his fingernails stains your clothes. The complete and straight planks become jagged and creaky as you follow him farther.

But you stayed silent.

You recognized a path to the seedy part of the city when you see it.

Instead, you examine the younger boy with a critical eye and finally connect the dots. He must be one of the kids you saved with Yiran.

A smirk creeps up your face. It seems you managed to use your time wisely in making connections after all.

Following along the twists and turns, you don't worry too much about the Millelith. Most of the guards probably couldn't even get this far. If you had to guess, it would only be the detectives who could keep up.

It's not like the hidden underworld of cities as popular as Liyue Harbor are any big secret to them.

Stalls and various shops fill the area as flickering lanterns and other extra lighting give you a wider view.

Multiple people call out to the boy as he silently waves to them. The gaze of the homeless and shady people around aren't warm, but aren't hostile either.

Not that you were exactly expecting a warm welcome, but at least you didn't have to worry about sudden personality changes.

Money could buy you information, but it wouldn't buy you trust in these parts.

He finally stops at a little nook in the corner of the area. The door is worn down with scratches and marks yet the light you can see under it is warm.

Silent as before, he points at you, then to the rows of shops in a sweeping motion before stopping at the door.

Pinching your brows in slight confusion, you chew on the gestures to understand it. High-pitched laughter that suspiciously sounds like children eases into your ears as the boy squirms in place.

“Did you want me to knock on the door when I'm done shopping? That you'll lead me back to the surface?”

It was the only thing that you can think of. And despite your hesitation, the boy nods, clearly relieved that you understood the message.

He must truly be mute, no doubt from whatever horrors he must have faced that lead to the scars poorly hidden by mud on his arms.

You were thankful either way. Just leading you here was great but getting an exit too was even better. Now you could avoid getting mugged and/or murdered on your way back.

“Thanks man, I'll be quick.” With that, you walk away, already following the invisible path to the shops that caught your eye.

As much as you would have liked to explore the various items and weapons they had, you didn't want to keep the kid waiting.

After having to buy a rather expensive medical kit, a minor downside to finding the first medical anything since you left Bubu’s pharmacy, you pick up a minor stitching case.

You could have really used one during your latest and probably not last chase. Stuffing it into your bag, as people eye the magical item with desire, you quickly find the home.

Getting to the door, you step closer than before and take note of the older voice. A woman that's chuckling, and a lingering sense of guilt invades your mind.

Quickly rapping your knuckles on the wood, you step away as the home goes dead quiet.

Multiple little eyes peer at you from windows below you as you lazily grin and wave. They all scatter as giggling resumes and the sound of playing returns.

But not the woman’s voice. You didn't expect it to. It's hard to face the only person you've poured your raw wounds from a child's death to.

The kid finally steps out with multiple clicks of locks echoing around the small space. Smiling, you take no offense to the action. You weren't here for trust, and they weren't helping you out of it either.

His crimson eyes glisten with interest at your bag. He wants his pay, and you're more than happy to oblige.

Stuffing your hand into the bag, you feel the familiar clink of Mora gathering in your hand. Pulling it out, you place an appropriate amount into the pouch he already has prepared.

When you drop it all, he takes it closer to him and picks up a piece. The first thing he does is try to bite it, and the familiar memory of you testing coins the same way makes you smile sadly.

Counting the Mora, he frowns, clearly displeased with the amount. He holds his hand out, and you can feel the other children’s stares digging into you.

“I'm going to give you two things that aren't Mora, okay? But you have to keep it a secret.”

He narrows his eyes, no doubt suspecting you of being a shady person. That's probably why he brought you here first and demanded payment before returning you.

Like this, he has back up and cornered you further into payment of his choosing.

“Do you have a cooking pot?”

He frowns in confusion before nodding slowly. Lifting one finger in a pause motion, before heading back inside his home.

He returns while holding a clean cooking pot. It doesn’t take long before he places it over the open fire you already started.

Small eyes follow your every step as you dig out ingredients from your bag. Mentally going over the ingredients you had originally prepared for your celebration feast if you survived tonight, you drop them into the pot.

4 ham, 3 crabs, 3 shrimp meat, and 3 matsutake potatoes are dropped in.

Turning around, you count to five as the boy gives you a confused stare. But you only wink at him before turning around to look at the pot, as his eyes widen at the sight.

Adeptus’ Temptation sits innocently in the pot as the rich aroma wafts around the area, drawing curious hungry eyes.

Leaning down, you whisper to the boy.

“Get your friends and bring the pot back into your house quickly. This food is blessed and safe as you watched the whole process. I suggest you let the sickly and injured children eat first.”

He looks between you and the pot with conflicting emotions. On one hand, he can't trust you too much, but even the smell of the food was clearly tempting him.

It's the shuffling of feet getting closer that makes him bang on the door, signalling for the other children to come out and help him bring it inside.

By the time the shabby adults come into view, it's just you and the boy ‘talking’ as they grumble and turn around.

The kid still looks displeased. You don't blame him completely, since how can he trust that the food you cook isn't spiked with anything nefarious.

You're not even sure if it can heal people that aren't acolytes. It doesn't work on you after all.

At least they'll all enjoy a hot meal, even if it doesn't work.

Sighing, you take out your last resort from your bag, sadly selecting it and pulling it out. The secret weapon you've been saving since your time in Inazuma.

The colorful assortment of candy wrappers makes the kid’s eyes sparkle with the childlike glee that was absent since you met him. Probably long before you met him.

“It's not just Liyue candy, some are even from Inazuma.” The thought of giving up your hard-earned candy hurt you, but you let it go. 

The candy you squirreled away during the Inazuma festival, and the discount ones you bought at cheap prices at Liyue’s markets, were both never going to be eaten anyway.

His hands reach out to snatch the candy greedily from you but you raise it out of reach at the last second. He stomps his foot in childish indignation as you chuckle.

“Sorry, but I need you to bring me back to the outside before you scam me out of any more goodies.”

Finally giving up, he grabs your elbow again and leads you back through the streets. You enjoy the sights as he leads you zigzagging through the stalls.

You can't help but wonder if any detectives are still watching your boring little interactions. Admittedly, you played into the kid's desires more then you had to.

But you couldn't stop yourself from doing so when all you could see in him was yourself when you were that height.

The sun comes into light as the dim lanterns fade away. Like this, you can see his features once more as the stomping of soldiers return.

His eyes scan the area at the sound, but he keeps his hands open for the sweet treats. Smiling, you drop the candy into his open palms before he rushes off with a beaming boyish grin.

Stretching as you walk up the planks to the surface, you finally cross off the last item and drop it into the nearby trash can.

You try to ignore how it disappears when you turn the corner.

------------------------------------

Time ticks down slowly, and you aren't looking forward to seeing Madam Ping just yet. Besides, you made a long-overdue promise to someone else beforehand.

Starting up at the somewhat hidden Funeral Parlor, you push the door open with a casual; “Hey, I'm here to meet up with the Director of this fine and totally not macabre establishment.”

The receptionist blinks at your sudden words before a cheery voice responds from behind her.

“You sure took your time, Y/N. I almost wondered if you up and died before I got a chance to have you purchase one of our very convenient and practical deals!”

Yet again, Hu Tao was right on the money about you being close to death. Idly, you wonder if you look half as dead as you feel.

The receptionist is more than happy to slip away as her boss bounds up to you with that elemental ghost hovering around her.

Flower pupils stare into your eyes, giving you a vague sense of unease as Hu Tao examines you from various angles. 

“Yup, yup! Just as I suspected. You are in desperate need of escape, and it seems the only way you'll be getting it is in death. My honest suggestion is that you buy a coffin from us and lead a hedonist lifestyle to enjoy the few years you have left.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” You dryly respond as she nods approvingly. 

“A business needs to be honest for it to succeed in the long-term. Trust of the customers is one of the biggest key factors.”

Not willing to argue on a topic you were admittedly clueless on, you follow her deeper into the Parlor.

“Then you got any good deals for a traveling adventurer like me who could be dead halfway across the world?”

She sighs, exaggerating it to the utmost while circling you. “I thought deeply on the topic and while the Wangshsng Funeral Parlor has grown enough to reach all of Liyue and a good amount of Mondstadt and Sumeru, we still haven't grown enough to pair up with each region.”

Passing by multiple doors, your eyes scan for a clue on where she was leading you.

“But considering you're the most eager customer I've had concerning their own death, I decided to present you with a special deal.”

“Wouldn't suicidal people also be enthusiastic in this topic?”

“They're usually more focused on the moment and their own afterlife, instead of the corpse they leave behind. Besides-!”

Whipping around to look at you with a knowing grin, she lays a hand decorated in rings on the handle.

“You aren't that far from being called a suicidal person yourself, Y/N!”

Before you can question her on those words, she swings the door open to show multiple rows of various coffins.

“The special offer I'm giving you is to purchase a coffin and I will personally escort your wandering soul to the border for proper peace.”

Tearing your eyes from the admittedly impressive collection of varying caskets, you have the sense to ask her a question. “So, what's the point in me buying a coffin if my body ends up in the waters of Fontaine? And how could I even trust that you have the ability to escort souls?”

From what you remember, Hu Tao should have no clue about your oracle status, so logically you should act oblivious to her connection with the border. Would you even be able to cross the border? It’s not like you were born on Teyvat like her other customers.

Unless Zhongli told her, but that would require more of an explanation on his behalf that he wouldn't want to do. 

“Very good question, dear customer!” She spins around to face you once more, her long twin tails swinging during the motion.

“Even if your body is irretrievable for whatever reason, the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor will deem your casket full after I guide your soul.”

The atmosphere visibly shifts after she speaks. The room darkens as the lanterns flicker, her back lowers in a familiar position as a cold phantom touch caresses your hand.

“You of all people should know why and how I'm able to guide souls. After all, I wouldn't expect anything less from an Oracle of the Creator.”

A crooked grin makes its way to your face as goosebumps raise on your skin. Hu Tao’s ‘threatening’ words of knowing your identity were like the sweetest song to your ears.

Finally, all your hard work in creating connections and stabilizing your identity has paid off. Acolytes you've barely begun conversing with already see you as an Oracle.

“Should I applaud you or something, Director? Or should I just accept the deal and make us both happy?”

Hu Tao laughs at your words as you take confident strides to stand by her side.

“I would appreciate the second option much more!” Signature flower pupils drink your smiling visage in with delight before her hand grasps yours in a tight hold.

“Now, if you will, I'll introduce all these amazing coffin and casket types for you to ask about and choose between.”

There's no time to protest, not that you would as she pulls you along excitedly as butterflies made of Pyro brush against your cheek.

------------------------------

Somehow you and Hu Tao had managed to look at every single coffin type in existence. A style, color and even additional design to it has already been decided.

You're just left with choosing the best wood for it.

Hu Tao wanted to stay with you throughout the whole process, but an important matter came up again, making her complain loudly as she left.

But before she did, she insisted on sending one of her employees to help you in choosing, as ‘the wood is a vital part of the process!’. 

So now you're left waiting in the absolutely quiet room, with only the sound of your own breathing accompanying you.

Looking down at the two coffins made of different wood, you waited for this employee. A small smirk played on your lips as you heard the door audibly click shut.

The thumping of shoes coming closer was silent, but the slight hitch of breath gave away how close your new consultant was.

“White cedar wood and Teck wood are both very fine choices. Though I would consider the Catalpa wood two rows down to be the best choices considering your position.”

Hot air fans your skin as the knowledgeable words spoken in that low timber light your nerves aflame.

Turning around, you look into amber eyes that remain steadfast on your face. His outfit is pristine and there's not a single evidence of the battle he was left to fight on him.

“If that answers your last question for the coffin customization, then would you mind stepping outside with me?”

Waving your hand, you dismiss his words without hesitation. “We can do so after I check out the Catalpa wood you recommended.”

Your head angles to the side to look at him with a teasing grin. “I know it's your retirement, but you of all people should know that rushing a job is never good.”

A long-suffering sigh leaves Zhongli as you walk away to the Catalpa coffin, before he follows you. 

More than happy to kill time like this, you feel the wood under your fingertips in a smooth stripe.

“Catalpa wood was and is still often used as an outer coffin for the jade inner coffin that Liyue officials were buried in. Not only can it be carved fluidly, but it is also very resistant to decay, unlike other ornamental wood. Its stability is quite underrated, with only the drying to be a tad problematic. And even that will be for us to deal with.”

Vaguely you wonder if this information was inserted into the game based off China’s own history or if Teyvat really did age throughout many years to build its own history.

“That’s why I recommended this type of wood to you. While you’re not officially a member of the Qixing or other affairs, your position of oracle is enough to warrant such a valued coffin.”

“Are you trying to convince me to buy it for your job, or are you trying to flatter me for your proposal?”

“You may see it as both, neither, or one of the two. I'm simply here as the consultant. I am to assist you with all of your decision-making inside this building.”

A huff of laughter leaves you before you tap on the casket. “Then I'll go along with what you want and take this wood.”

Zhongli nods, not bothering to write it down as his memory must be far greater than you care to imagine. 

His gloved hand is displayed to you in a silent question, but before you can move, he removes the glove.

Quizzically, you raise an eyebrow before placing your hand on his now bare one. Peering at his face from your place you note the slightest blush on his otherwise composed expression.

Smiling to yourself, you allow his fingers to intertwine with your own as he guides you out of the side door. Following him blindly up the staircase, past a set of rooms, another staircase till you finally arrive at the roof.

Zhongli squeezes your hand one last time, clearly relishing in the touch of your calloused fingertips before letting you go.

“I've waited patiently for you, Y/N. What is your answer to my marriage proposal?”

His eyes stare at yours with unshakable firmness. In a sense, it's endearing, and you make it clear by smiling widely.

“It's a no from me.” That resolute expression cracks and his mouth drops open before it's slammed shut at your bright laughter.

But even his poorly concealed embarrassed expression can't smother the blood rushing to his cheeks as his ears hang onto every addictive note that leaves your lips.

This has taken a long time. Like super long. I haven't dropped this series, just have lots of school work to complete and exams to study for. Like I literally have one tomorrow. My editor did me a solid and highlighted the parts that I had to fill in after I gave the mostly completed document for editing. When I have to write the next chapter, it'll take a bit as I gotta reread for recalibration. Taglist is open as always!

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[razorblade180]

Union

In the midst of going over blueprints for their future home, Jaune’s concentration gets interrupted by flowing petals. He cracks a smile before turning around to see Ruby completely obscured by her cloak.

Jaune:Have you come for my soul?

Ruby:Might as well. Already have your heart.

Jaune:Heh, then I kindly ask for you wait. Your payment will be paid in full down the aisle.

Ruby:How stingy. I’ve already given you both of mine; and a little extra~

Jaune:*red* How was work, you gremlin?

Ruby:Patrol duty was fine. Starting to think crooks know my schedule.

Jaune:Or you threw most in jail.

Ruby:Organized crime calls for chaotic heroism. Anywho, house plans going well?

Jaune:More or less. If all goes well then we’ll be living outside Vacou before our anniversary.

Ruby:Always thinking ahead. Meanwhile I’m struggling with awesome vows.

Jaune:You brought a world together. I’m sure you’ll think of something.

Ruby:Feelings are a little harder than a battle cry or call to arms. Speaking of feelings, I have a little something for you.

Jaune:*looks at cloak* Is that so~

Ruby:*blushes* It’s not what you think! Not this time. This gift is way better!

Jaune:I don’t know Rubes. Last gift that started like this was pretty amazing. *smiles*

Ruby:Just close your eyes and hold your hands out!

The knight chuckles as he does what he’s told. Immediately something weighted and cool to the touch lands in hands. Jaune opens his eyes and stars at a white scabbard. Somehow, this took him by surprise. It had his symbol in the middle and was surrounded by red thorns.

The grip of the hilt was this dark blue with a spiral of fierce red that went up and outlined the golden hand guard that was modeled in the shape of his symbol. He pulled out the gift from the scabbard to reveal cold, shining white steel that had its double edge and tip run red like hilt. If Jaune was being honest, he’s never seen a sword look more like a work of fantasy. Ruby stood right in front of him and put her left hand in the hilt, showing that his symbol had subtle thorn and rose engravings that matched her gold and red on her engagement ring.

The accomplished and proud Huntress then took a step back and started twiddling her thumbs while swaying, finding it hard to meet Jaune’s gaze; so she pulled her hood over her head. At this point it probably matched her face.

Ruby Rose:So uh yeah, that’s a Ruby Rose Original.

Jaune:You made this!?

Ruby:*nods* I’ll be honest. I spent so long shopping for wedding bands with Weiss helping. I’m still definitely getting one! But none of them really… felt like they were saying how I feel. There’s not a moment I want you feel like you’re fighting alone; even when we’re far apart. With this, I’m always by your side ready to help. The scabbard is a shield too but if I’m being honest I’m still a rookie when it comes to that kind of smithing. Consider this my own form of engagement to you.

Jaune:Ruby this is…I don’t even know what to say.

Ruby:*trembly* I uh..it’s fine if you treat this as a ceremonial blade too. After all…there’s history in Crocea Mors and I don’t want to step on that or make you feel like you have to stop wielding it because of m-

Two hands gentle hands pull back her hood and reveal teary, anxious eyes. Honestly, Ruby felt so ridiculous right now. All this effort into a heart felt token of affection and yet anxiety gripped her mind on how he’d take the jester. His thumbs run across her cheeks to catch a few stray tears.

Jaune:Hey, talk to me. What’s with the tears? This is an amazing.

Ruby:I just…Crocea Mors is its own vow. It has been for years and I know I shouldn’t be feeling guilty or nervous but I do. Gods, it’s so dumb hehe. Pyrrha would totally give me an earful for being so-

Jaune:Thoughtful? *smiles*

Ruby:..Heh, yeah. Yeah she would.

Jaune:Well, I don’t know if your beautiful brain and smithing skills have noticed, but you’ve really gotten good at knowing my style.

He briefly lets go of her and grabs his sword along with the new gift. Jaune pulls out both and puts them against one another. Yeah the hilt is different but it’s wide enough to work. Without hesitation, Jaune took the scabbard of Crocea Mors and slid it on the new sword easily; right down to the satisfying click in place that took Ruby by surprise.

Jaune:If you really feel guilty, then I can do this! Not gonna lie, I’d feel like shit getting that scabbard dirty in the future. It’s my first Ruby Rose original! Also gives you time to hyper fixate on shield crafting. As for the blade, I know this bad boy will keep me safe and sou-

Once again, petals flowed. Each one danced around him while the rose itself pressed her lips against his with gratitude and overflowing joy that dispelled fears like magic.

Ruby:Jaune Arc, you truly are my fairytale ending. My happily ever after.

Jaune:Hehe, And you said your vows would be hard? C’mere.

He pulled his loving fiancée into a deeper kiss before matching her smile. She was right. This present was the best.

Jaune:Does this engagement sword have a name?

Ruby:The deepest part of my soul wants to call it Bloody Moon but that doesn’t inspire luck as wedding gift.

Jaune:I kinda like what you said a few moments ago.

Ruby:Oh, so Ever After?

Jaune: Tale’s End

Ruby:That’s so- damn I’m marrying the right person. That’s such I good name! When our house is done I think my first order of business is mounting the scabbard with Crocea Mors somewhere nice and proud. Gonna need your height though.

Jaune:Naturally. And who knows. Maybe it’ll protect the both of us in a new way someday?

xxxxxxx

Several years later

Jaune:Alright squirt, ready for your first real sword sparring!?

A foolish question for a young girl waiting to dives out the front door and slide across a sand dune into a wide battle stance, her grin in full bloom with Crocea Mor ready to aid her first step towards greatness.

Carmine:Born ready!

Ruby:Do your best! Show him who’s boss!

Carmine:Ha! With this by my side, I might as well be invincible.

[loveesiren]

Doing It All For Us (Pt. 13)

Masterlist

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: Y/n has a little scare but it's not as bad as what's to come...

Warnings: Fluff, braxton hicks

Word Count: 4.3k+

Rafe blinked awake, his vision blurred as his face was pressed deep into the pillow. He reached for his phone, low growl spilling from his throat as he tried to wake up. He rubbed his eyes and unlocked his screen. The clock read 12:15. "Shit..." He muttered.

"Good afternoon, sleepy head!" You cood from the bathroom door.

Rafe rolled on his side and took in the sight of you. "Beautiful girl..." He hummed. You looked flawless in a flowing white sundress, strappy wedges, and a tan sun hat sitting atop your head. You had neutral colors for your make up today which made your Y/E/C eyes pop. "How are you this perfect?"

You smirked at his compliment. "Get up, baby. Topper and Kelce want to meet at the club."

Rafe gathered his thoughts, still lost in the beauty that stood before him. Shit, he had to meet Courtney to pick out a ring. He got up and pulled on his jeans. "You go ahead, sweetheart. I have to help my dad with something."

"Are you sure?" You asked, putting your earrings in. "I can come with if you want."

"No, sweet girl," He said, kissing your temple. "Go. Eat. Have fun. I'll meet you back here later, yeah? Then we'll put on a movie and I'll rub your feet until you fall asleep."

You smiled up at him. "That sounds perfect."

He places a soft, tender kiss to your lips before crouching down to kiss your belly. "Later kid, be good for your momma!"

You chuckled as you watched Rafe leave the room, continuously glancing back to get one last look at you. You took one last look in the mirror before gathering your purse and making your way down stairs. You set the alarm and locked the door before heading to your Benz Truck. Your car. The car you've barely touched since you moved here. You've had the luxury of being chauffeured around by your fiance and friends all year.

You climbed in and noticed you'd need to adjust your seat as your baby bump pressed against the steering wheel. "Been a while," You laughed to yourself. You adjusted the seat to your comfort and checked all your mirrors. You felt really...independent. And you weren't sure if you liked it. You missed Rafe. You wondered what he and his dad were up to today. But, to be honest, you needed a break from everything going on and lunch with your friends sounded great. You started the car and took off.

-

Rafe stepped off the ferry and scanned the crowd, spotting Courtney pretty quickly. "Hey Court," He greeted.

"So you really proposed to my best friend on a whim? No plan, no ring? You're supposed to let me help you plan!" She scolded.

Rafe chuckled. "I'm sorry. I couldn't wait."

"So where'd you do it?" Courtney asked as they began walking towards the town.

"In my room at the Bahama house. She puked the whole plane ride there, poor thing. She was so tired when we got there we just went straight to my room." He said, purposely leaving out the part about the gold. He'd save that for another time. "She just looked so beautiful in the late sun, I couldn't wait."

"That girl could turn into an ogre and you'd still call her beautiful," Courtney laughed.

"Nothing could take away her beauty." Rafe said softly, picturing your face in his mind. God he missed you. It hadn't even been two hours.

Courtney grabbed Rafe's hand and dragged him towards the jewelry store. "Come on, lover boy. She deserves a proper proposal and a fat diamond!"

Rafe owned nice jewelry. Gold chains, nice watches, his signature signet ring. But he had never, ever bought jewelry for a girl until you walked into his life. The diamond R necklace he had gifted you was something he stumbled upon on a TikTok. Now obviously, that jewelry was cheap and he'd never let a $5 zinc necklace touch your perfect skin. So he had a necklace custom made for you. But this was different. This was huge. This was a symbol of the love he had for you. Something you'd wear proudly for the rest of your life making it known you were taken. Owned. A Cameron.

He was overwhelmed with all the gleaming rocks reflecting in the glass cases. He didn't know where to begin. He followed Courtney, looking where she looked, trying to take mental notes of things she pointed out on each ring.

"And who are we shopping for today?" The store clerk asked. "Ah, aren't you Ward Cameron's son? Rafe?"

"Uh, yes ma'am." Rafe replied, caught off guard.

"We're looking for the perfect engagement ring for my best friend!" Courtney squealed. "Uh, his girlfriend." Courtney gestured to Rafe.

"Fiance," Rafe corrected.

"Oh yeah, he proposed without a ring. Can you believe that?! Now I have to help him find the perfect one!"

"Well, congratulations! I'd love to help you find the right one. My name is Renee." The clerk said kindly. "Tell me about your fiance!"

"Oh no, here we go..." Courtney said under her breath but still smiling as she looked up at Rafe.

Rafe eyes were bright and he beamed with excitement. "She's immaculate. She's beautiful, like a goddess, especially when the sun hits her eyes, they shine like diamonds. Her voice is like honey, soft and sweet. I could listen to her talk all day. And her smile..wow..out of this world. She brightens up the whole room, no, the whole event! You can feel her presence when she's near. She's strong, like a lion. Vicious when she needs to be. Bat shit crazy and insanely fun. I've never been bored around her. She's resilient. She's like hypnotic when she moves her body and -"

"Okay, big guy!" Courtney says, patting him on the shoulder. "I'm gonna stop you right there."

Renee chuckles. "Absolutely smitten with her, I see."

"She's my everything." Rafe smiles softly.

"Follow me," Renee says, gesturing them over towards a case in the back of the store. "Now, I don't usually show these to our younger customers, this is our priciest collection, but it is also our nicest, and guaranteed to last a lifetime. Longer than a lifetime. If she is buried in this ring, it will still be perfect centuries from now."

Rafe winced at the thought of you buried in the dirt. He didn't like that image. But he knew he'd be right beside you if you were.

"But seeing as you are a Cameron, and absolutely over the moon for this woman, I thought I'd let you take a peek."

Rafe stared down at the absolute stunning 20-karat emerald cut diamond ring that sat before him. It was perfect. It was perfect like you.

"Now, I also have some lovely options over here, a bit smaller, but bold with personality-"

"I'll take it." Rafe said, cutting Renee off and stopping Courtney in her tracks.

"Son, this ring goes for one million dollars," Renee chuckles.

"Rafe, I know you're rich but shit dude you don't have to drop a milli on this ring. She'll be happy if you gave her a piece of string, dude." Courtney said.

Rafe smiled, thinking about all the money he now had. "This is the one. I'll take it."

-

"So Rafe really proposed? No ring or anything? And you said yes?" Topper asks once again.

You laugh as you swallow the last bite of your salmon. "Sure did! I don't need a ring. I just need him."

"He still has to get a ring though, I mean come on!" Kelce added.

"You know what's funny? Before I moved here, before I met Rafe, I was so materialistic. I suppose I still am with some things. But all the guys I dated in high school always got me expensive jewelry and bags and all that shit. I loved it. It made me feel loved and powerful. Like I was better than everyone else. But now? Now, I don't know. Rafe makes me feel loved in different ways...better ways. If we lost all our money tomorrow and had to live on the cut, I'd be okay with it. As long as I was with him."

Kelce and Topper smile. It took everything in them not to tell you Rafe was out looking for a ring right now.

"Well boys, this has been lovely. But a bitch is tired and I need a nap." You say with a smile as you begin to gather your things and stand up. The boys stand up with you, ready to walk you to your car.

You gasped loudly, falling back into your seat and clutching your stomach. "Fuck!" You screamed.

"Y/n? What's wrong?!" Kelce asked, both boys quickly by your side.

You took a few breaths. "I - ah! I don't know!" You had a sharp pain in your abdomen that you hadn't experienced before. "I-I think something's wrong - ow, fuck! - with the baby!"

"Okay, let's get you to the hospital now." Topper said, scooping you up in his arms and rushing towards the exit. Kelce grabbed your things and followed suit. Topper got you in the car, sliding in beside as Kelce drove as quickly as possible.

You were trying your best to breathe but you were terrified. You weren't even in your third trimester yet. You couldn't be in labor could you? "Call...Rafe..." You said between breaths.

"On it," Topper said as he took out his phone to call Rafe.

-

Rafe pulled out his phone, signing the last signature on the paperwork for your ring. "It's Top," he says to Courtney.

"He better not of squealed." She sighed as she took the bag from Renee's hand, thanking her for all her help.

"What's up, Top?" Rafe said as he answered the phone.

"Dude! Something is wrong with Y/n and the baby!"

"What?! What do you mean?!" Rafe stood up quickly and ran out of the store.

Courtney grabbed the ring and stored it safely in her backpack before running out after him.

"I don't know dude! Everything was fine and then she just like toppled over in pain. We're on our way to the hospital right now."

"Rafe, hurry!" He heard your pained voice cry out in the background.

"I-I'm on my way! I'll be there soon, baby, I promise!" Rafe said before the call disconnected.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Rafe said, pacing back and forth.

"What's going on?!" Courtney asked.

"Y/n's in pain. Something with the baby. Fuck I need to get there now but the ferry is two fucking hours, I-"

"Dude! I took my dad's helicopter here! It's just a mile up the road, come on!" Courtney said.

Rafe breathed a slight sigh of relief before they both took off running.

"Renaldo!" Courtney called as she approached the helipad.

"Ms. Fields, are-"

"We have to go now! It's an emergency!" Courtney yelled.

"Okay, okay! Let's go!" Renaldo responded. "We'll be there in about 15 to 20 minutes, Ms. Fields."

Rafe's leg was shaking with anxiety as they flew over the water. Extremely grateful in this moment that he was friends with Courtney. Her dad was one of a handful of people on the island that owned a personal helicopter to use at their disposal. 15 minutes. He reminded himself, but it still felt like hours.

"We can land pretty close to the hospital. We'll be there soon!" Courtney reassured him.

Rafe chewed on his finger, a million thoughts going through his head. Was the baby okay? Were you okay? He felt guilty for not being by your side. The one time he leaves the island something horrible had to happen.

The second the helicopter touched the ground, Rafe hopped out and started running. Courtney thanked her pilot and took off after him. They made it to the hospital in record time and Rafe burst through the front doors, almost breaking them off their hinges.

"Y/n Y/l/n! My fiance! Wh-where is she?!" He asked the nurse at the front desk, causing a scene in the waiting room.

"Let's see here..." The nurse said as she grabbed her clipboard and looked over names.

"Now!" Rafe demanded.

"Sir, do not give me attitude. I'm trying -" She was quickly cut off by Topper's voice.

"Rafe! She's in here!"

Rafe discarded the nurse and ran to your room. There you sat, once again in a hospital bed for a horrifying reason. He never wanted to see you in a hospital again unless it was for the birth of your baby. But you were sitting up, smiling and talking to the nurse.

Rafe walked in slowly, chest heaving and sweat soaking through his shirt from the anxiety and running. "Baby...What's going on? Are you okay?" He asked, coming to your side and taking your hand.

You smiled at him. "I'm okay, baby. I promise. So is Wolfie."

Rafe was confused. He had prepared himself for the worst but nothing seemed to be wrong. Still, he checked over you for anything out of place which made you giggle.

"Braxton hicks," The nurse chimed in.

"Brax...what?" Rafe asked, as he leveled his breathing.

"Braxton hicks. They are essentially false contractions. Definitely scary if you aren't sure what they are, but they are harmless. All is okay. We gave her some medicine for the pain. I just have to finish up a bit of paperwork and she should be set to go home." The nurse smiled and excused herself from the room.

Rafe breathed a sigh of relief and pressed his forehead to yours, placing one hand on your swollen belly. "So you're okay? You're both okay?"

You laid your hand on top of Rafe's. "We're okay, baby. I promise. Just tired. I'm about ready for that foot rub." You teased which pulled a smile out of Rafe.

"Topper and Kelce went to get your car."

"Where's your truck?" You ask, wondering how he got here.

"Uh...it's at the dock."

You furrowed your brows. "The dock? Were you on the mainland?"

"I'll tell you later, baby. I promise. For now, let's get you home and keep you off your feet for a few days."

You wondered what exactly was going on, but everything had been so crazy lately and quite frankly, you were exhausted. All that mattered was that Rafe was here now.

-

Rafe drove your car home while you relaxed in the passenger seat, trailing your fingers over the sensitive skin of your stomach. Wolf was kicking ever so lightly, also tired from his big day.

Rafe hopped out of the car and quickly came to your side, as he always did. He helped you out of the car, grabbing all your things and walking you to the door.

"Are you hungry, sweet girl?" He asked as you entered the house.

"A little." You admitted. "Can we just order in and watch a movie?"

"Of course, baby. You go on upstairs, I'll be up in a minute, okay?"

"Okay," You agreed with a smile and headed up to your room. You worked on getting out of your clothes and taking off your make up before settling into bed and scrolling Netflix.

Rafe took out his phone to order food and call his dad.

W: Hello?

R: Dad, hey.

W: Hey, son. How's Y/n?

R: She's okay. The baby is okay.

W: Good. That's good.

R: Uh, hey dad? The gold is secured right?

W: Yes, son, it is. Why?

R: Ahah..Uhhh I kind of got Y/n a ring today.

W: That's great!

R: Yeah, I'm excited to give it to her, but uh...

W: But what, Rafe?

R: It was kind of....a million dollars.

W: Jesus Christ, Rafe, what the fuck!"

R: Hey a milli isn't that bad now that we have the gold right?!

W: *sigh* Atleast you're marrying rich.

R: I'm not marrying her for money, dad.

W: I know, son. I know. Just, uhh...Yeah. The gold is secured. Just go take care of your fiance and my grandson, okay?

R: On it, dad. I love you.

Rafe hung up the phone and smiled. He walked upstairs to find you in the bathroom, rubbing lotion on your swollen belly while your silky pink pajamas clung loosely to your skin. You were humming softly as you cradled your belly. He leaned his head against the doorframe of the bathroom and smiled as he soaked in your beauty.

"Hey, mamas," He said softly.

You turned to look at him and smiled. He'd never seen such glowing beauty before. Your face was bare, your hair pulled back, there you stood, swollen with his child. It was the most beautiful sight he'd ever laid eyes on. Like a thousand summer sunsets. This was all his. His family. He did everything for you.

"Hi, Rafey," You beamed. You smiled as Rafe stepped behind you and placed his hands on your belly, admiring how much you've grown. "It's funny to think how just a year ago I was the new girl on the island. And now we're about to be a family."

Rafe buried his face in your neck, inhaling your soft scent. "You're a dream come true." He whispered. He slowly removed one hand from your belly and reached into his back pocket. "Do you remember how I asked you to marry me in The Bahamas?"

"How could I forget being proposed to?" You giggled.

"Yeah, well, that's not how I planned to do it."

"Has anything we've ever done gone according to plan?" You chuckled.

"Nope. And I really haven't planned out the rest of our lives yet either."

"Planning isn't for everyone." You reassured him.

Rafe hesitated. He could give you the ring right now. He knew you'd be happy either way. But he paused and thought for a moment. "Are you free this Saturday, my love?"

"Hmmm, I'll have to check my schedule." You teased.

Rafe laughed and picked you up, carrying you to bed. He had ordered some Chinese food but by the time it got there, you were already out. He took out his phone and texted Courtney, Topper, and Kelce.

This Saturday, at the club. Plan a party. I'm going to really propose to her. On the beach. Please help me set it up.

Rafe waited a few minutes before he heard his phone buzz.

We got you.

-

Rafe had been so weird this week. But not in a bad way. Just very excited about Saturday and you couldn't figure out why.

Rafe was out and Courtney had come over, insisting on helping you get ready. They weren't very good at hiding things. Rafe obviously had a surprise date planned but you played along.

"I think this is the one!" Courtney squealed as she pulled out a deep navy blue, silk dress from your closet. It was a maxi dress that would definitely be blowing in the breeze. A low cut front and long lacey sleeves.

"I'm not sure Wolfie will fit in that." You teased.

"Oh sure he will! Come on!"

You let Courtney work her magic of getting you into the dress and doing your make up. This must be some date Rafe had planned. However, you were happy and excited to see what he had in store for you.

Courtney put the finishing touches on your outfit, including a small tiara that she laced through your hair. "Is all this really necessary?" You asked.

"Yes! You look beautiful!" She said. Her phone chimed and she quickly rushed to check it. "Your ride is here!"

She handed you your bag to match your dress and walked you downstairs. You continued to act oblivious, knowing that one of the guys were here to pick you up and take you to your special date. Once you stepped outside, you did your routine of locking the door and setting the alarm. Courtney walked you to the end of your driveway and you faltered when you took in the site before you.

A horse-drawn carriage sat in the street in front of your house and your fiance stepped out to greet you. "Care for a ride down the beach?" Rafe asked.

You were in awe at the gesture. His slicked back hair and dark navy suit had your knees weak. Courtney handed you off to Rafe and kissed your cheek. "I'll see you later! You two kids have fun!" She said before running off.

Rafe helped you into the carriage and you sat, speechless.

"Rafe..." You began. "Rafe what are we doing?"

Rafe wrapped an arm around you. "Oh, you know, just going on a casual date." He teased.

You didn't question it. You snuggled up to Rafe as the horses made their way to the beach. You listened to the waves crash against the shore and enjoyed the twinkling stars in the sky as you laid on Rafe's lap, enjoying the feeling of his palm against your belly.

Eventually, the horses stopped and you sat up. "Will you join me on the beach for a second?" Rafe asked. You agreed and let him help you out of the carriage. He held you close as you walked down the sand, standing slightly in the water as the waves washed over your feet.

"This is beautiful, Rafe." You told him. "Thank you."

"The night's far from over, my darling." He told you.

You turned to look at him, the moonlight illuminating his features perfectly and you could swear you were melting on the spot at the sight of him, ready for the ocean to take you away.

"I asked you to be my wife on a whim. I truly meant it. I did. But it wasn't what I planned." Rafe began.

You smiled but remained quiet.

"Before I met you, Y/n, I was falling apart. I-I didn't care about anything anymore. Then you came into my life and turned my world upside down. I've never met someone so...insane." He chuckled. "In a good way."

You frowned for a moment, looking back on all the pain you've caused.

"You're the only person I've ever felt true love for. You and our son," He said, placing his hand on your belly once again. "I want to give you the world and so much more."

You smiled up at him, enjoying the breeze in your hair and appreciating the way it messed up his. Rafe reached into his back pocket and slowly got down on one knee.

"I know I already asked..." He began. You took a step back. "But I wanted to do it right. You are God herself, Y/n. I can't live without you. I need you like I need air to breathe. I'm so grateful you chose me and I just want you to know...I'll always choose you. Will you marry me?"

He opened a small black box, revealing a huge diamond. You fought for air for a moment as you took in the sight of it. How did that thing even fit in that tiny box?

"R-Rafe..." You were at a loss for words. "Rafe...what?!"

"Please? Please marry me. I've never been so sure of anything in my life."

You stood speechless for yet another second. "Rafe, yes! Of course I'll marry you!"

The shine of his smile could be seen from outer space. He took your left hand and placed the rock on your finger. You'd never seen such a beautiful piece of jewelry.

"Rafe, you didn't have to-"

"Shut up," He said, standing up and pressing his lips firmly against yours. You kissed him back deeply. You had never been so happy in your life. You could even feel little Wolfie kicking.

You were over the moon about the little family you were creating. Nothing could take this from you.

"Come on, I have one more surprise." Rafe said, leading you back to the carriage and helping you inside. You weren't sure how this night could get more perfect.

You were all over Rafe as the horses took you to your next destination. When you pulled up to the club, you assumed you were about to sit down for a nice dinner. But as you stepped out of the carriage, the sound of cheering patrons led you to believe it was something much bigger.

Rafe helped you out of the carriage and held your left hand up. "She said yes!" He screamed and the whole crowd cheered.

Before you knew it, Courtney was running to you, wrapping you up in a bear hug. "You're getting married, bitch!" She squealed. She was in an entirely new outfit than she was from helping you get ready. You knew she had helped plan this. So did Kelce and Topper by the way they weren't surprised in the slightest, greeting you with warm hugs and praise.

You all walked into the club with smiles on your faces. You clung to Rafe's arm happily knowing that all the people here were supporting the two of you.

"Let me see the ring!" A swarm of women come up to you. You happily showed off the giant rock on your finger.

"Congratulations, you two." Ward said as him and Rose approached you. Rose gave you a hug, Wheezie soon following her as Ward patted Rafe on the back. "Y/n, there's someone here to see you." Ward said, motioning in the direction behind you.

You turned around and your jaw dropped. "D-Dad?"

"Hey, Sunflower," Your dad said softly.

You couldn't help the tears running down your face as you embraced your father in a hug. You hadn't seen him in months and here he was, standing in front of you.

"I can't believe you're here!" You said happily.

"Let's sit, for a second." Your dad said, helping you to an empty table nearby while other guests mingled amongst themselves. You sat back and relaxed, taking a deep breath as you rested your hands on your belly. You realized you hadn't had a moment to breathe in a while. "Look at you," Your dad started.

"Look at me!" You joked.

"A lot happened while I was away."

"Yeah," You sighed. "How do you feel?"

"About you and Rafe? About...this?" He asked, gesturing to your swollen belly. "It's every father's dream and nightmare." He chuckled. "But seeing you this happy...clean and happy. It's great. I see you've been taken care of and that's all I could ever want."

"Thanks, dad." You smiled. "So how was-"

"Rafe Cameron!" You were quickly cut off by Shoupe's voice as he entered the club with two other cops. "You're under arrest for the murder of Sheriff Peterkin!"

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged! :)

@outerbankspov @torturedtypewritersdept

[elysiaheaven]

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐃 𝐄𝐘𝐄-𝐒U𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐗 𝐅.𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑--𝐌𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐬-𝟎𝟐

Genre:Angstly?

Syponosis:

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗵𝗶𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗦𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝗶𝘁. 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝘄𝗮𝗻 𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗶𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝗳𝗿𝗲𝗲. 𝗙𝗿𝗲𝗲 𝗶𝘁 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗯𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘆𝗼𝘂. 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗘𝘅𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘄𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼𝗼….

𝗔𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗹 𝗘𝘅𝗽𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗦𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝘅 𝗳.𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

TW: Mentions of nightmares, disturbing descriptions, (corpse etc)

Sunday jolted awake, shouting, “Robin!” His heart raced as he looked around, trying to catch his breath. But Robin wasn’t there—he wasn’t home anymore. Slowly, his surroundings came into focus, and he realized he was in a room that wasn’t his own. The walls were bare, the furniture plain, and the entire space felt unfinished, as if it had been waiting for someone to make it their own. The Astral Express crew had mentioned this room once belonged to someone else, but it was now his.

The room was dull, imperfect, like the shattered pieces of his life. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to complain. I have to live… because Robin gave me this chance. She… begged for me to be free. The thought weighed heavily on him, a constant reminder of what she had sacrificed. Something she had sworn she would never do, and yet, she did it for him.

He sat on the edge of the bed, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Sweat clung to his silver hair, now a tangled mess. His clothes were rumpled, his skin pale, and his eyes—those golden irises with navy pupils—looked hollow, as though they hadn’t known rest in days. Unperfect, he thought, running a hand through his hair, which fell messily across his forehead, unkempt and wild. The gold halo behind his head, adorned with eye-like details, seemed to mock him. It was supposed to represent his Halovian heritage, a sign of power, of strength. But all he saw was a symbol of failure.

Something itched at his skin, and he realized he needed to wash away the remnants of the nightmare. Just breathe. Just live, he told himself, though the words felt empty.

Dragging himself to the bathroom, he stepped into the shower, the cold water shocking his senses as it poured down his back. He closed his eyes, letting the water cascade over him, trying to wash away the memories, the guilt, the fear. But the nightmare clung to him like a second skin, the echo of the boy’s voice still ringing in his ears: Why did you let her suffer? Why did you put Robin through that?

Sunday clenched his fists under the stream of water, but then loosened them. He had to control it. Seal it, he thought, repeating the mantra that had become his only means of survival. Lock it all away.

After a while, he stepped out and grabbed a towel, running it over his damp silver hair, before brushing his teeth. The bathroom was quiet, save for the sound of the bristles against his teeth. As he placed the brush down, he noticed the disarray. The toiletries were scattered—nothing was in order. It felt chaotic, unsettling.

Not perfect. He instinctively straightened everything, aligning the brushes, the towels, making the space orderly once more. It looked strange, almost unnatural, the bathroom too perfect for the raw emotions he was carrying inside. But it was who he was—a broken boy in a perfectly arranged world.

He stared at the reflection in the mirror again. His tired eyes stared back at him, dark circles etched beneath them, proof of sleepless nights. How many times have I woken up like this? he wondered, though he couldn’t remember. Every night had begun to blur together, the nightmares blurring the line between waking and sleeping.

He dressed in the simple clothes that Dan Heng and Mr. Welt had given him—normal, unremarkable clothes that felt foreign on his skin. A stark contrast to the robes of his Halovian past. But it was better this way. Here, on the Astral Express, he was just… Sunday. A man trying to survive. A man trying to piece together the shattered remnants of his existence.

Stepping outside his room, Sunday made his way to the common area, walking through the quiet corridors of the Astral Express. It felt peaceful, the soft hum of the ship’s engines the only sound. But inside his mind, the storm raged on.

He was here because of Robin. Because she had given up so much. And yet, all he could think about was how he wasn’t enough. He had failed her, failed to protect her. And now, he had to live with the guilt, the weight of her sacrifice hanging over him like a shroud.

As he walked through the halls, he passed by others—people who smiled, people who were at peace. But he remained silent, his golden eyes downcast, his body moving on autopilot. He wasn’t part of their world. He was still locked in the cage, the bars invisible but ever-present, surrounding him, trapping him.

Just live. He reminded himself once again. For her.

But with every step, it felt harder and harder to breathe.

Sunday stepped into the main room of the Astral Express, feeling the weight of everyone's eyes immediately on him. The chatter that had filled the space moments ago suddenly died, replaced by an uncomfortable silence that pressed in on him from all sides.

March, Dan Heng, and Welt Yang stood around the table, their conversations halting as their gazes shifted to Sunday, staring at him as though he were an alien, an anomaly that didn’t quite fit. He could feel their unspoken judgments, the awkwardness in their stares. It made him feel even more withdrawn, as though his presence disrupted something fragile, something he couldn't fix.

He looked around the room, his golden irises scanning every inch for something to occupy his hands, something to make him feel useful. That’s when he noticed Stelle’s coffee station—a mess of spilled sugar, half-empty cups, and scattered stirrers. His fingers twitched, an unconscious need to set everything back in order. Without thinking, he walked over to clean it up, hoping that maybe, just maybe, doing something would make the uncomfortable feeling in the room go away.

But before he could touch anything, Stelle looked up from her drink, watching him with a bemused expression. “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice laced with confusion, as if his very presence was strange enough, let alone his sudden need to clean.

He froze, feeling her eyes on him, and tried to withdraw. “You should clean this,” he said quietly, hoping to avoid confrontation. His voice sounded too cold, too formal—he hated it, but it was all he could manage right now.

Stelle raised an eyebrow and let out a mocking hiss, clearly trying to make light of the situation. “No way, day,” she joked, though there was an edge to her voice. But as she glanced at him, her lighthearted tone shifted when she saw his expression. His eyes were hollow, his face serious, as if the chaos of the room was suffocating him. “Ew,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “Don’t be so scary about it.” Reluctantly, she cleaned the area herself, grumbling all the while.

Sunday stood there, feeling like a stranger in his own skin. He knew he had made the mood worse, knew he wasn’t wanted in the space. He could feel their collective discomfort like a storm cloud hanging over him, and all he wanted was to disappear.

He turned to leave when Himeko entered, her usual calm smile in place. She greeted him warmly, as though nothing was out of the ordinary. “Morning, Sunday,” she said, handing him a steaming cup of coffee. Her voice was soft, a kind gesture in a sea of silent stares.

He nodded briefly, the simple act of holding the cup feeling heavier than it should. “Why are you up so early?” Himeko asked, watching him carefully.

“It’s the normal time I wake up,” he answered flatly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. But to everyone else in the room, his reply felt out of place.

March, who had been sipping her drink across the room, spit it out in surprise, her eyes widening. “We only woke up early because Miss Black Swan wanted us to!” she said, incredulous. “We're planning a small vacation, Sunday, just a break to decide the next destination. No need to be all serious!” Her laughter filled the room, but Sunday barely heard it.

Miss Black Swan, sitting elegantly by the window, greeted him with a small wave, her presence like a shadow in the corner of the room. He barely acknowledged her, only offering a nod before retreating into himself once more. The walls of the Astral Express felt closer than ever, the air too thick to breathe.

Without another word, he picked up his breakfast and turned to leave, wanting nothing more than to be alone again, to escape the eyes that felt like they were stripping him down piece by piece.

As he made his way to the door, Himeko called after him, her voice filled with gentle concern. “Sunday, if you ever need anything, you can come to me anytime, okay? You don’t have to carry everything on your own.”

He paused in the doorway, her words like a small crack in the wall he had built around himself. But he couldn’t muster a proper response. Instead, he nodded, his face a mask of emptiness, the expression so broken it made Himeko’s heart ache just to see it.

And then, without another word, he left, retreating to the silence of his unfinished room, where the weight of his guilt and his memories could drown him in peace.

Inside, the world outside could slip away, and he could lock himself up again, just like always.

"Also! Let me know when you will speak to Robin again.."

He sat there, the older version of himself, staring into the reflective surface of the bars, and for a fleeting moment, he saw not just a boy—but a version of himself encased in darkness, chained by grief.

Locked up. Locked up. Locked up.

The thought echoed in his mind, a relentless chant that mirrored the pounding of his heart. He was a Halovian, a guardian meant to protect. Yet here he was, imprisoned by his own fears and sorrows.

Suddenly, the room grew darker, shadows coiling like tendrils around him. A raven flew in through the window, its feathers glossy and black, eyes glinting with mischief. It perched on the edge of his cage, tilting its head as if assessing him.

“Look at you,” the raven cawed, its voice mocking. “A bird locked in a cage, yet it’s you who should be free! What a joke. Shouldn’t a Halovian be soaring, not cowering in this pathetic prison?”

Sunday felt a jolt of anger surge within him, but he swallowed it down, locking it away. “Leave me alone,” he muttered, but the raven only cackled louder, a chorus of similar voices joining in from the shadows.

“Disappointment!” they croaked in unison, their words slashing through the silence like daggers. “A Halovian who can’t even fulfill his father’s wishes! Why do you even exist if you’re this weak?”

“Control it,” a small voice whispered in his mind, the remnants of his innocence urging him to remain stoic. “Control your feelings. Don’t let them see how pathetic you are!”

But the raven continued its cruel dance, flapping its wings, sending a flurry of feathers swirling through the air. “Pathetic! Pathetic! How could you let your mother down? How could you let Robin down? You’re nothing but a broken boy, hiding behind a mask!”

Sunday pressed his hands against the cool metal of the cage, his heart racing. The raven's words echoed in his mind, resonating with the darkness he fought to suppress. “I’m not weak!” he shouted, but it felt like a feeble protest against an overwhelming tide.

“Are you sure?” the raven taunted, circling above him like a predator. “You hide from the truth, but it’s still there. You can’t escape what you are. You’re weak, and one day, they’ll see it too. They’ll realize you’re just a child playing at being strong.”

The small version of himself, locked in that cage, screamed back at him, a reflection of his deepest fears. “Control it! CONTROL YOURSELF! Don’t let them see you cry! Don’t let them see how weak you truly are!”

Sunday squeezed his eyes shut, the weight of his conflicting emotions threatening to consume him. “No… I can’t let this happen. I won’t break,” he whispered fiercely, trying to summon the courage he had buried deep within.

The raven, now circling more aggressively, transformed in front of Sunday’s eyes, feathers turning as black as ink. Its beak, sharp as a blade, seemed to cut through the air as it landed just inches from him.

Suddenly, the raven's shape twisted, and before him stood a figure cloaked in darkness—Gopher Wood's raven-self, a looming silhouette with eyes that glinted with a mix of fury and disappointment. The sight sent a chill down Sunday’s spine.

“You failed me,” Gopher Wood’s voice rasped, dripping with disdain. “You’ve always failed. Weak, fragile, just like your mother. You’re no Halovian, not even worthy of the Oak Family’s name.”

Sunday felt his chest tighten, the words slicing deep into old wounds that hadn’t fully healed. He recoiled, wanting to scream, wanting to defend himself, but the guilt held him hostage. “I… I didn’t fail!” His voice trembled, but even he didn’t believe his own words.

The raven figure stepped closer, towering over him now, its wings spreading wide as shadows curled at its feet. “You couldn’t protect her. You can’t protect Robin. Every step you take is a step toward their ruin. And why? Because you’re weak.”

Sunday clenched his fists, his entire body shaking as the weight of those words pressed down on him, threatening to crush him under their truth. “Go away!” he cried out, his voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t fail! I’m still here!”

But the raven's cruel laugh filled the air again, shrill and merciless. “You think you have a choice? You let your father’s wishes slip away, you let your family down, and now you live in the shadows of your mistakes. You’ll never be free. Not from me.”

Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted, the overwhelming darkness stilled as a voice—steady, calm, and commanding—cut through the haze.

“Stop,” the voice echoed in Sunday’s mind, soft yet powerful, ringing with authority. “Don’t let the corruption consume you.”

Sunday froze. The voice seemed to pierce through the shadows that had been suffocating him, a flicker of light within the gloom. He glanced around, his heart pounding in his chest. Ena’s angels?—it was something he had heard of, whispers from old teachings. But here, now, in the depths of his despair, the voice resonated with clarity, breaking through the fear and self-loathing.

The raven-figure snarled, its form flickering like smoke, trying to regain control. “Don’t listen to it, boy. You’re mine. You’ll always be mine.”

“It’s just a corrupted voice,” the soothing voice urged. “You’re stronger than this.”

Sunday felt an odd warmth growing within him, something unfamiliar but steady—like a hand reaching out to him from the void. The grip of the shadows seemed to loosen, and before he could fully comprehend it, he felt a presence—a light.

And then, out of the dark, a figure descended before him. An angel, radiant and otherworldly, appeared. Its four wings fluttered gently, feathers shining with an ethereal glow. Its eyes—h/c and filled with a wisdom that both comforted and awed—looked directly at Sunday.

The angel extended a hand toward him, eyes filled with compassion. “You must free yourself.” Its voice was soft, yet carried an undeniable weight, as though it could pierce through the thickest walls of doubt and fear. “This cage is of your own making. But you can still escape.”

For the first time in what felt like ages, Sunday felt something stir within him, something different from fear. Hope.

He reached out tentatively, but just as his fingertips grazed the angel’s, he awoke—gasping for air, his body drenched in cold sweat. His heart hammered in his chest as he blinked rapidly, trying to shake off the remnants of the dream that clung to him like mist.

His eyes adjusted to the darkness of his room, he glanced toward the mirror on the far wall. And there, staring back at him, was not just his reflection—but the version of himself that had long haunted him: the former head of the Oak Family. The weight of that legacy, the burden of that title, suffocated him all over again.

His hands trembled as he looked away, the ghost of his past self still lingering in the edges of his vision. He tried to shake it off, but the fear, the doubt—they clung to him like chains, dragging him back down. He couldn't listen to the angel’s words. Not now. Not yet.

Stumbling out of bed, Sunday moved away from the mirror, as far as he could, but the image of his former self remained in his mind.

Sunday stood frozen before the mirror, his breath coming in shallow gasps. He tried to look away, but his reflection held him captive. His hands trembled as he gripped the edges of the dresser, his knuckles white with strain. Gopher Wood’s voice, that low, haunting rasp, curled around him like a noose tightening with each word.

"You failed again," the voice hissed, venom dripping from every syllable. "Why do you think you’ll ever be anything more than this? You couldn’t protect your mother. You won’t protect Robin. You’ll only drag them down."

The pressure in his chest built to a point where he thought he might collapse under its weight. His vision blurred, but through the haze, he saw another figure in the mirror—Robin. She stood there, staring at him, her reflection asking a question that pierced straight through to his core.

“Why did you make me sacrifice Penacony for you?” Robin’s voice trembled with sadness, her innocent eyes filled with hurt.

Sunday’s body locked in place. He closed his eyes, his heart pounding in his ears. This is a nightmare, he whispered to himself, holding his head in his hands, desperately trying to block out the voices, the haunting accusations. His body shook as he tried to resist the flood of emotion threatening to consume him.

"It’s just a nightmare. It’s not real." But it felt real. Too real.

Robin’s voice echoed again. “Why did we have to switch roles, Sunday? It was your job to protect me. Not mine. Why did you fail?” Her words lanced through his soul, the guilt crashing over him in waves.

His eyes snapped open, and he saw her in the mirror again. Robin—her face twisted in confusion and pain, as if every word tore at her heart. She stood there, expecting an answer. His throat tightened as the weight of her words pressed down on him.

"Stop!" Sunday screamed, slamming his hands against the glass, his voice breaking with desperation. His breath came in sharp, ragged bursts. "Stop it! Please, stop!" His cries dissolved into sobs as he slumped against the mirror, tears running down his cheeks uncontrollably. He gritted his teeth, his hands shaking uncontrollably as he raised them to his face.

In a moment of sheer madness, he slapped himself, again and again, forcing himself to stop. "Stop it, stop it, stop it!" The sharp sting of his own hand against his face barely cut through the pain in his heart. But he did it, again and again, desperate to regain control, to force the nightmare to end. "Please... just stop..."

But the nightmare only grew darker.

From the shadows, Robin’s silhouette faded. A twisted shadow emerged, her soft laughter mutating into something cruel and mocking. Then, from the darkness, his mother’s voice rang out, soft but agonizingly pained.

“Why didn’t you save me?” she whispered, her form appearing in the reflection—melting, her body distorting in agony. “Why, Sunday? Why didn’t you save me?”

He screamed, stumbling back from the mirror, his legs nearly giving way as his mother’s accusing eyes bore into him. I tried... I tried! his mind screamed, but the words wouldn’t come out. His throat felt like it was being squeezed shut. The guilt, the regret—it crushed him, suffocated him. I couldn’t save you...

Suddenly, a figure with striking red slash marks across his face and black-and-white materialized before him—Aventurine, a man whose presence brought nothing but a looming sense of dread. His eyes narrowed, filled with contempt. “Why did you drag me into your mess!? Why did you make me remember this painful past? What’s the point, Sunday? What are you doing?”

A blue-haired boy and a brown man joined..

Sunday couldn’t answer. The walls of the room seemed to close in on him, the faces of people he knew—figures from the Astral Express—appeared around him, watching him with disdain, disappointment etched into their expressions.

They were all laughing now. Laughing at his weakness, at his failure.

“Why do you even exist?” they asked in unison, their voices melding into a chorus of ridicule. “What’s the point of you? You’re nothing but a failure. Nothing but a weak boy hiding behind wings that don’t even work.”

He stumbled backward, his gaze fell to Gopher Wood’s dead body—twisted and broken, surrounded by ravens, their lifeless eyes staring at him, silent and cold. Dozens of dead ravens littered the ground, their bodies grotesque reminders of what he had once been. Their deaths echoed in the silence of the room, and yet... the laughter continued.

Sunday ran, heart pounding in his chest, desperate to escape. This isn’t real. It’s not real, he repeated to himself, but no matter how hard he tried to shake off the nightmare, it clung to him. The laughter, the accusations—relentless, unending.

His legs carried him further into the shadows, and suddenly, his wings——began to tremble behind him. He stretched them out, hoping to take flight, to escape this cruel nightmare, to rise above the voices that told him he was nothing.

But when he flapped his wings, nothing happened.

They were clipped. Torn. Broken.

He couldn’t fly. His wings—his symbol of freedom, were always useless from childhood... A sob tore from his throat, raw and full of anguish as he collapsed onto the ground, the weight of his shattered wings pressing him into the cold place!?

You’ll never fly. You’ll never escape. You’re trapped. The voices whispered again. What’s the point of you? Why do you even exist?

And there, surrounded by the twisted reflections of his past, the mocking laughter of everyone he had failed, Sunday realized with cold horror that he couldn’t answer them.

He didn’t know why he existed anymore.

As Sunday lay broken, wings clipped, and the mocking voices tearing at the very fibers of his sanity, a shadow moved in the distance. It was different from the other figures that haunted him. It was darker, more dangerous, and yet, strangely familiar.

The figure, cloaked in an abyssal black, seemed to glide across the ground as if it was one with the shadows. Its movements were fluid, unnervingly graceful. As it neared, Sunday’s chest tightened, his body frozen in terror. He knew this presence—he had felt it before.

It was the one that had protected him. The one that had shielded him from breaking down completely. But now… something was different. Its aura was no longer gentle or safe. This time, it was filled with rage.

The figure came closer, stopping just in front of Sunday’s crumpled form. He dared not lift his head, but the dark figure bent down, its shadowy hand gripping his chin tightly and forcing him to look up.

“Stop.” The figure’s voice was sharp, each word cutting into Sunday’s soul like a blade. “Stop this. You’re wallowing again.”

Sunday gasped, his breath hitching as he tried to pull away, but the figure’s grip tightened. Its eyes, once cold, now burned with something far more dangerous—something that spoke of frustration, of anger.

“You overthink,” it hissed, its voice rising. “Always trapped in your mind, always suffocating in your weakness. When will you learn?”

Sunday’s vision blurred with tears as he shook his head, trying to push the voice away. He wanted it to stop. Just stop.

But the figure only grew angrier. "You can’t even fight back anymore, can you? You’ve let these memories, these shadows, consume you. You’ve let them win!"

And then, without warning, the figure’s hand released his chin and shot toward his chest, a sudden sharp pain cutting through Sunday as if a sword had pierced his heart. His eyes went wide with shock, his body convulsing as he gasped for air.

The figure had stabbed him.

Sunday’s mind reeled in agony. The searing pain was all-encompassing. His breath came in ragged, shallow gulps, and for a moment, the world tilted around him.

The figure’s face twisted into a sneer. “Maybe this is what you need. Maybe you need to die before you can ever wake up.”

Sunday’s vision swam, black spots clouding his view as his pulse raced, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. The agony was unbearable, every breath burning his lungs, and he wanted nothing more than for it to stop. His thoughts spiraled as he struggled to stay conscious, the figure’s voice rising like a roaring tempest in his ears.

“Wake up!” it shouted, a haunting echo that reverberated through the nightmare. The words seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once, shaking the very ground beneath him. "Wake up from the Order you’ve imprisoned yourself in! Wake up!"

Sunday’s eyes shot open, his body jolting upright as he gasped for air. His chest heaved, sweat pouring down his face as his hands scrambled to find something—anything—that would ground him in the chaos. He touched the wound at his chest, expecting to feel blood, but there was nothing.

It was a dream. Another dream.

He sucked in another shaky breath, his mind spinning with confusion. But was it really just a dream? It felt too real. The pain, the voices, the figure—they were too vivid to simply be an illusion.

His heart hammered in his chest as he tried to gather himself, his eyes scanning the room wildly. The mirror. The shadows. The figure. Everything flickered in and out, but the terror remained. The weight of those words, that shout—wake up from the Order—it echoed endlessly in his mind.

Suddenly, the shadows twisted again, and the laughter from before—the cruel, mocking laughter of the ravens, the dead figures—it returned. They had never left.

Realization struck him like lightning.

"This… this is still a dream," he whispered, his voice trembling. His breath quickened as panic set in. No escape. There was no escape.

He clutched his head, trying to shake the disorientation, the layers of nightmares that seemed to be folding in on themselves. "No, no, no…" His voice rose, hoarse from the strain. "Stop it. Stop it, stop it!"

But the darkness only deepened. The figures of his mother, of Robin, of Gopher Wood and Aventurine—they all returned, laughing, accusing, taunting him with his failures. Trapped in this endless loop of despair.

Sunday screamed, his voice hoarse and breaking under the weight of it all, but the voices didn’t stop. They only got louder.

Suddenly, he felt it again—that stab of pain in his chest. He looked down, expecting the wound to reopen, to bleed—but instead, he saw chains. Chains wrapping around him, tightening with every sob, every cry for help.

The shadowy figure reappeared once more, watching him with cold, emotionless eyes. “Do you see it now, Sunday?” it whispered, voice dripping with menace. "You’ll never wake up. You’ll stay in this cage forever. You’re too weak to leave it."

The chains grew tighter.

His wings twitched, desperate to take flight, but they remained clipped, useless. He tried to break free, to run, to escape the mockery, but the laughter grew louder, the figures closing in on him. His breath grew shallower, and the chains tightened further around his chest.

Sunday’s voice cracked as he shouted again, “No! This has to be a dream! It has to be!”

The shadow leaned closer, its breath cold against his skin. "Is it?"

And with that final, cruel question, the nightmare swallowed him whole.

Sunday woke up drenched in cold sweat, his heart still racing from the nightmare that clung to his mind like a vice. He shot up from his bed, breathing heavily as if he had just escaped drowning. The dream—no, the nightmare—still echoed in his thoughts, the weight of those mocking voices pressing down on him.

His fingers clenched into fists, and he could still feel the chains from the dream wrapped around his chest. The laughter. The accusations. They were gone, but the guilt they left behind lingered like a scar. He couldn’t stay here, not in his room, not with the suffocating silence.

Without thinking, Sunday bolted out of his quarters and made his way to the main hall of the Astral Express. His footsteps were quick, urgent, as if he was trying to outrun something. The halls blurred around him, and all he could focus on was reaching somewhere, anywhere, where the dark thoughts couldn’t follow.

When he reached the main hall, he stopped abruptly, his eyes scanning the room. It was late, and most of the crew had turned in for the night. But not Himeko. She was there, sitting by one of the wide windows, drinking her coffee as always, her gaze distant as if she was lost in thought. The stars of the cosmos twinkled behind her, the endless expanse of space stretching out in all directions.

Sunday's breath hitched as he caught sight of her, and for a moment, he considered turning back. His hands were still trembling, and his thoughts were scattered like broken glass. But before he could retreat into the shadows, Himeko looked up, her eyes softening when she noticed him standing there, disheveled and clearly shaken.

“Sunday?” she asked, her voice gentle but tinged with concern. “Are you okay?”

Sunday stiffened under her gaze, the darkness still clinging to his features. His eyes, normally bright with determination, were shadowed and distant, haunted by the nightmare he couldn’t shake. He forced himself to smile, but it felt more like a grimace. “It’s nothing,” he mumbled, trying to brush it off, though his voice betrayed him. He sounded hollow.

Himeko raised an eyebrow, not convinced for a second. She didn’t press him, but her eyes told him she saw more than he was willing to admit. “You’ve been overworking yourself, Sunday,” she said softly, setting her coffee down. “I know you’ve been through a lot… but you need to take care of yourself. We want you to enjoy your freedom, not be weighed down by it.”

Freedom.

The word stung him. What did freedom even mean anymore? He wanted to walk away, to bury himself in his duties and pretend everything was fine. But instead, he found himself taking a hesitant step forward, and then another, until he stood in front of Himeko.

The words slipped out of him before he could stop them. “Himeko… can I… can I sleep in your lap?” His voice was small, almost childlike, and he hated how weak it made him feel. But he didn’t know where else to turn. The burden of his nightmares was too heavy to carry alone anymore.

Himeko blinked in surprise, her usually composed expression faltering for a moment. She quickly composed herself, though, and took a sip of her coffee before placing the cup down with a soft clink. “Why?” she asked, her voice gentle, but she could see how distant his eyes had become. His body was here, but his mind… his heart… they were still trapped somewhere dark.

Sunday hesitated, swallowing hard. His voice cracked when he finally spoke. “I just… I just want my mother to forgive me.”

There it was. The confession, the guilt that had been gnawing at him for so long, finally spilled out. He couldn’t even look at Himeko as he said it. He didn’t want to see the pity in her eyes, didn’t want to feel like a child again, lost and broken.

Himeko’s expression softened even more. She understood, even without him saying much. She could see how much he was struggling beneath the surface, how much he was holding back. Without another word, she shifted in her seat, gently patting her lap in silent invitation.

Sunday hesitated for a moment, but then, like a wounded child seeking comfort, he slowly lowered himself onto the floor and rested his head on her lap. The moment his head touched her, the tension in his body seemed to release all at once. He let out a shaky breath, his eyes closing as he sank into the comforting warmth of her presence.

Himeko’s hand softly rested on his hair, gently brushing through the strands like a mother soothing her child. She didn’t say anything for a while, letting the silence fill the space between them.

Sunday’s voice came out in a whisper, more to himself than to her. “What’s it like… to be free?” His question hung in the air, fragile and uncertain.

Himeko looked out into the stars, her eyes thoughtful. “Freedom,” she said softly, “is the ability to chart your own path. To move forward, despite the past, despite the burdens. It’s about choosing your direction.” She glanced down at him, her hand still stroking his hair. “It’s not always easy. Sometimes it feels like an open sky, full of possibilities. Other times… it feels like wandering through the dark.”

Sunday’s throat tightened. Freedom. It was something he couldn’t grasp, not with everything that weighed him down. “A freedom I’ll never understand,” he muttered under his breath, bitterness creeping into his voice.

Himeko heard him, but didn’t respond right away. She just continued to stroke his hair, offering the silent comfort he so desperately needed. She knew there were no easy answers, no magic words that would heal the wounds he carried. But for now, in this quiet moment, she could offer him the only thing that mattered—comfort.

Sunday lay there, his eyes still heavy with the darkness of his nightmares, he tried to push the guilt away. But the images of his mother, of Robin, of Gopher Wood—they still flickered in his mind. Forgiveness. He wasn’t sure if he could ever forgive himself, let alone expect his mother’s forgiveness.

Sunday drifted into a restless sleep once again, despite the comforting presence of Himeko. His mind pulled him back into the world of dreams—a world he couldn’t control. The darkness that had haunted him returned, but this time, it was different. It was quieter, softer.

He found himself standing in a vast, endless space. There was no sound, no laughter, no mocking voices, just silence. But the stillness only made his heart race faster, knowing that something—or someone—was watching him.

And then, from the depths of the silence, the angel appeared again.

She descended slowly, her four wings spread wide, glowing faintly in the soft light that surrounded her. Her hair (h/c) flowed gracefully, and her (e/c) eyes met his with a calm intensity. She radiated an otherworldly presence, as if she existed on a plane far beyond his comprehension.

Sunday wanted to turn away, but he couldn’t. Something about her presence held him still, captivated and fearful at the same time. His pulse quickened as she approached, her footsteps barely making a sound.

When she reached him, she did something unexpected. Instead of speaking or demanding anything, she gently patted his head, her touch surprisingly tender. Sunday flinched at first, not used to such gentleness in his dreams. But the angel’s hand was soothing, almost maternal in the way she comforted him.

Then, with her free hand, she produced a strange set of scales. It shimmered like stardust, ethereal and weightless, yet filled with a power he couldn’t understand. She held it over his head, and Sunday felt a strange sensation wash over him, like his mind was being weighed, measured.

Her (e/c) eyes focused on him, studying him carefully as the scales tipped slightly, glowing with a faint, warm light. “It’s trauma,” she said, her voice soft yet echoing with a resonance that reached deep into his soul. “And… a fragment of an Aeon’s essence.”

Sunday blinked, confused. “An Aeon’s essence?” His voice was shaky. He had no idea what she meant, but the way she said it made it sound like something important. “What… what does that mean?”

The angel didn’t answer directly. Instead, she tilted her head, her expression calm but unreadable. “You’ve been touched by forces beyond your understanding. The Aeons… their influence lingers in you. It clouds your thoughts, chains you to your nightmares.”

He looked down, feeling the weight of her words settle in his chest. Was that why he was plagued by these dreams? Was that why he couldn’t escape his guilt, his memories?

“Who are you?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper. “Why are you in my dreams?” There was a mixture of desperation and anger in his voice now. He didn’t want to feel weak again, but he couldn’t shake the sense that this angel, whoever she was, had answers he desperately needed.

The angel’s expression softened as she met his gaze, her eyes filled with a quiet, knowing sadness. “That is something you must discover for yourself. Only when you understand the truth will I reveal myself fully to you.”

Sunday swallowed hard, his throat dry. “And… how am I supposed to find that truth?”

Her wings fluttered slightly as she stepped back, her figure starting to blur, as if she was fading away. “When you’re ready, I will come to you again.”

Before he could ask anything more, the dream dissolved, and Sunday was ripped back into reality.

He jolted awake, his heart pounding in his chest. His eyes darted around, disoriented by the sudden shift. But he wasn’t alone. Standing in front of him were March and Stelle, both looking down at him with curious expressions.

He flinched at their presence, still shaken from the dream. “W-What are you two doing here?” he stammered, sitting up quickly, his head spinning from the abrupt wake-up.

March held a finger to her lips, grinning. “Shh, don’t worry! You just looked so peaceful… we didn’t want to wake you.”

Stelle, standing beside her, gave him a smirk. “Yeah, and we might’ve taken a picture. You know, for… memories.”

Sunday’s eyes widened in horror. “You what?!” He looked down and realized that Himeko had fallen asleep in the chair beside him, her hand still resting gently on his shoulder. His face flushed in embarrassment as he scrambled to sit up properly. “Stop it! Don’t… don’t send that to anyone!”

March giggled mischievously, holding up her phone. “Too late! Already sent it to Robin. She’s gonna love this.”

Sunday groaned, running his hands over his face in frustration. He couldn’t deal with this right now. His mind was still reeling from the dream, from the angel’s cryptic words. “I’m going back to my room,” he muttered, standing up quickly and brushing past them.

“Aw, come on, Sunday! Don’t be like that!” March called after him, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. He needed space—time to think.

Once he was alone in his room, he closed the door behind him, leaning against it for a moment as he tried to steady his breathing. His reflection caught his eye—the mirror, still taunting him with his own image.

He stared at himself, seeing the dark circles under his eyes, the weariness that seemed etched into his skin. The weight of his guilt, his past, still hung over him like a dark cloud. The angel’s words echoed in his mind.

"A fragment of an Aeon’s essence… trauma… chains you to your nightmares."

Sunday’s hands trembled as he turned away from the mirror, his thoughts racing. The angel had said he needed to find the truth—but how? Where was he supposed to start? What if he never figured it out?

And what if, deep down, he wasn’t ready to face that truth at all?

[literallyjusttoa]

First thing first I LOVE your art style. Second your Apollo design and headcanons are amazing. And third I would love to see some kind of colored reference sheet of Apollo, because I would love to make Fanart of your design!

Ok I made a re-made a lil reference thing I made about a year ago with color for you! + I'll add some notes I keep in mind while drawing Apollo in different forms bc I'm kind of inconsistent with my art lol

Pre-ToA Apollo: Covered in jewelry, bc he's fancy like that. No shoes, I used to draw him wearing sandals but it was actually rly important in antiquity that the gods didn't wear shoes as a sign of their divinity, so no more of that. At most he wears cool gold anklets. I also use his chiton as a bit of a mood ring. When Apollo's is having a great time, it's gold or has gold accents. When he's in stressful situations, it's got more orange and red.

Lester: Shift all colors a bit closer to red, just for cool symbolism-y reasons. I've done blue-eyed Lester before, but I'm ngl brown-eyed Lester still holds my heart. Also the most consistent part of my Lester design is the red hoodie, I will never let that thing go. Lester is a short king, and he always, ALWAYS has some pudge. (I feel kind of bad bc I always draw him in a baggy hoodie so you can't tell sometimes, but I swear I always keep it in mind) I usually show time going on in the trials by adding scars, making the hair longer, and making him a little bit bigger (callback to my hc that all of the physical things Apollo saw as "flaws" got worse in the 5th book, but bc Apollo has grown as a person he genuinely doesn't notice/care as much)

Post-Toa Apollo: Everything is a mix of the first two designs. Two eye colors, two hair colors, clothes that are modern while still referencing antiquity. He even wears sandals, right in between barefoot and sneakers. This design changes a lot, but that's bc I think Apollo is still rapidly changing after the end of ToA, and figuring out how to settle back into himself. The only consistency is that I’ve drawn him wearing crop tops alot? I honestly can’t tell you the reasoning behind that it just keeps happening. So yeah, really with this one, go wild!

[twistedkans]

j’en ai rêvé (part one)

→ Yandere! Neuvillette x Reader in which he receives a mysterious letter...

Warnings: Fontaine Spoilers? Not really. Dragon! Neuvillette, Reader isn’t human. Also writing this before the rest of the AQ is completed. (As of 4.0) Characters: Neuvillette, Sedene, + mysterious admirer... Word Count: 620 (A/N: I haven’t written something in a long time and I am quite sick but I hope this will suffice! The title is inspired off of the French rendition of ‘Once Upon A Dream’! :) Also, this is relatively slow-burn for this first part, but it will get more yandere later on. I promise! (Well, hopefully.) -🪞) Comment below if you would like to be added to the taglist.

The envelope being creased in the places that the Melusine had usually handled wasn't a surprise in the slightest to the Chief Justice, but how the paper was presented. It appeared to be tinted a sky blue with tasteful gold and white accents, a wax seal of a Romatime flower symbol pressed onto the back. When he opened the envelope, a dewy and aromatic perfume graced his sharp nostrils, surprising him. 

It certainly wasn’t quite like any of the numerous letters of complaint and formal documents that sat neatly on his desk. It wasn’t like he hadn’t received such things before, but most of the time they were never forwarded to him. Most of the time, they contained feelings of confession or bribery within. And most of the time, his attendants weeded them out and threw them in the waste bin. 

Why had this one been forwarded to him?

Curiosity festered in his mind, and he drew out the letter with a steady hand. This one hadn’t been typed up on one of the latest and most popular inventions in Fontaine, rather handwritten in a neat and calligraphic penmanship.

Greetings, Monsieur Neuvillette!

It is such a pleasure to know that this letter has graced your prestigious eyes, as I have made sure that no other being has touched this parchment other than you and I. 

I am writing to you in great concern, as I have noticed that the rain storms have been very frequent and quite intense. While I usually do not mind the water, the amount and times it has been occurring is a little worrying. Have you been doing alright? Probably not. 

I wish I could give you more care directly, but all I can say is that you are one of the strongest people I know, and I know it must be hard to keep being that way with how demanding your job is, even if you do not show your vulnerability outright. I know you feel that something is amiss. 

Dry your tears, hydro dragon. Do not worry about yourself any longer. 

I am here for you, and will watch over you as best as I can.

Warm regards, 

Romatime.

(P.S. No need to write back! Fret not, I shall meet you soon.)

Neuvillette felt chills go down his spine, blankly staring at the contents of the letter. How did they know of his identity? How did they know of his feelings so well? He thought he had done a good job at hiding it, the only people knowing of this being Focalors and a select few of the Melusine that have heard his weeping from behind closed doors. Their ears were always sensitive to noise, no matter how muffled it may be.

He stood up from his cushioned seat, robe tassels touching the floor as he made his way to the door, and called for Sedene. She rushed over as quickly as she could, leaving her station, and approached his side.

“Yes, Monsieur Neuvillette? Whatever you need, I may help.”

“Thank you, Sedene.” He started, bringing out the letter. “Did you perhaps leave this on my desk this morning?” 

Sedene thought it over, squinting at it and curiously touching her chin in thought. “No sir. I checked all of your documents and had your office cleaned this morning. I haven’t seen that before. I’m not sure who the sender is.”

“How intriguing. Whoever sent it didn’t write their name, only an alias. Could you possibly trace who sent this to me? I would like to talk to them.”

“Of course.” She bowed, and soon left his vicinity to pass the message on.

Whoever it was, they needed to be dealt with, and fast.

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Hi how are you, gorgeous?

Here to request if you will, Gwens top 5 reacting to R getting a necklace with their initial on it?

Heyyyy @littledollll !! A lot better hearing from you 😊🫰🏻 Hope you are well! And thanks for the ask 🥰 I would love to write this! Hope you Enjoy ♥️

Initialized Necklace Blurb ~Gwen’s Characters xGN Reader

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: fluff, kissing, crying, etc.

Enjoy (:

Brienne of Tarth

“My Lady, I cannot possibly accept this…” Brienne nervously explains.

Her blush evident at the small yet beautiful pendant necklace you had given her.

“No, Ser Brienne, I insist.”

Brienne looked down to the gold heart with ‘B + Y/Initial’ inscribed on it. She looked down and met your gaze, tears of joy welling up in her eyes.

“I have never been given something so remarkable…” she spoke, her voice faltering.

Now it was your turn to blush. Brienne placed the pendant on her heart.

“I shall cherish it with all my heart, my Lady…” she whispered, a tear of love escaping her eye.

Ser Brienne then leaned down and placed a kiss on your cheek. Your cheeks were ablaze with fusia. The woman then left your tent as to not arouse any suspicion.

“I will love you Ser Brienne, Always and Forever…” you mutter, tears of joy escaping your own eyes, which you we’re quick to wipe away as to not arouse any suspicion.

~~~

Larissa Weems

You had planned on giving it to her after dinner. It was your one year anniversary of you two being together, and you had the whole evening planned out.

But as you entered the blonde’s office at Nevermore, you tripped and out fell your surprise. Luckily, Larissa was nimble and quick to help you up, but she immediately noticed the blue jewelry box. Your eyes widened as Larissa went to pick up the box, staring quizzically back at you.

“And what do we have here…?” She playfully purred.

You blushed.

“It was supposed to be a surprise for after dinner…” you muttered.

The blonde eyed you with her signature mischievous, glistening look that she always gave you when you’d been caught doing something. But as she went to open the box, her her eyes widened and her jaw dropped.

Inside was a silver necklace with an infinity symbol and two silver circles, each engraved with your and Larissa’s initials…

“Do you… Do you like it…?” You hesitantly asked.

Finally, Larissa’s gaze met yours again. Her eyes shone with radiance and love, and a small water line was threatening to spill from her eyes.

“I… I love it…” she whispered, looking back at the necklace and then back to you.

“Will you help me put it on?”

Your face lit up at her positive reaction and you nodded lovingly. You took the jewelry piece and hung it around her cream, poised neck, clipping it in the back with ease. You stood back to admire your ease, but Larissa started to come forward.

“What are you—”

Your words were cut off by Larissa’s soft lips connecting with yours. A small sigh left your lips, which Larissa happily swallowed. After a minute, you both pulled away slightly. Larissa’s hand was fidgeting with the necklace.

“Always and Forever…?” She whispered, staring you down intently and lovingly.

“Always and Forever.” You whispered back, ghosting your lips against hers once more.

~~~

Miranda Hilmarson

Her eyes immediately started welling up with tears of joy as you presented two necklaces, one with Miranda’s initials and one with yours.

“Now we’ll always be with each other.” You cooed with a loving smile.

“I love them…” Miranda chocked out, tears now running down her face.

“Oh Babe, I didn’t mean to make you cry…” you cooe.

Suddenly the tall blonde pulls you into her tight embrace. She hugs you tightly with love. You instantly relax in her arms, until she’s squeezing you to death with (literally and figuratively).

“Babe… can’t breathe…” you gasp.

A flood of concern washes over the blondes face and she immediately loosens her hold on you.

“Sorry…” the blonde whispers, blushing softly.

“All good, babe…” you cooe.

“Luv you.” Miranda murmered into the crook of your neck.

“Love you too, Babe…” you cooe.

“Always and Forever…?” She vulnerably mumbles.

“Always and Forever, babe.” You reassured the tall, short haired blonde.

~~~

Lucifer Morningstar

You approached the Lightbringer as they stood tall on their balcony, gazing over their domain.

“Master…?” You whimpered, not wanting to interrupt or anger them.

“What is it, Little one?” They hum, still viewing the vast land of hell.

“I… I made something for you…”

At this, the Lightbringer turned their head to your small frame.

“Oh? And what might it be…?” They ask.

You hold your hand out and open your fist to reveal a piece of metal, a homemade, refined pendant with their initials inscribed on it on a simple chain.

“I made this for you… As a reminder of who you are, that you aren’t what God has deemed you to be…”

“Thank you, little one.” They say, taking the piece.

You nodded and left the throne room. Only when you had gone did Lucifer alike themselves to smile and blush at the thoughtful gift you had given to them.

And since then, whenever Lucifer went out, they always wore your necklace. It would always bring a smile to your face when you caught a glimpse of it under their garments at a meeting or in the throne room.

Only later on did the Lightbringer realize that their was a back inscription: Always and Forever.

~~~

Captain Phasma

You knew it was a bit cheesy. But you couldn’t help yourself. And when Phasma saw it, she stared at you speechlessly.

“A key?”

“It’s not just a key…” you explained, “It’s symbolic, you see it has my initials on it, and it’s supposed to mean that you are the key to my heart…”

“God, that’s so cheesy…” Phasma chuckled.

You bit your lip nervously.

You knew she wouldn’t like it…

But as you went to take the necklace back, Phasma swiftly moved her hand aside.

“I like it.” She decisively stated.

You blushed.

“Good.” You chirped.

The next week, Phasma came up to you with a small box. You looked at her curiously and opened the box. It was a lock with her initials on it, connected to a chain.

“Just a reminder that you belong to me and that I alone have the key to your heart, body, and mind…” she husked und your ear.

Now you really blushed. You nodded.

From there on the two of you always wore the necklaces underneath your uniforms. It was your promise to each other. Always and Forever.

~~~

Lucifer Morningstar Masterlist

Miranda Hilmarson Masterlist

Captain Phasma Masterlist

Larissa Weems Masterlist

Brienne of Tarth Masterlist

[milomilesmib]

Since I have been feeling a particularly strong attachment to my comfort item lately here are what I think PJO character's comfort items would be (short answers in bold text for those who want a quick read):

Percy: a blue stuffie from his childhood. He doesn't often have it with him but he always feels safer when he is with it. And yes, he probably calls the stuffie "he" because I said so

Grover: a little mushroom pendant from Juniper. He never puts it on anything, just keeps it in his pocket and takes it out to fidget with when he's stressed. It has a really smooth surface and pretty colours so it's a good sensory thing for him.

Annabeth: her camp necklace. She always has it and when she doesn't she feels bare. Every time she's stressed she looks at a bead and thinks of a good memory from that year.

Thalia: a shirt she particularly favours because she wore it a lot when on the run with Luke and Annabeth. Any time she's in a bad mood she wears it and it makes her feel a bit better.

Nico: canonically, it's his skull ring, but I also feel like he'd have a childhood blanket that he's really attached to. It's a really soft fabric and so he always uses it when he's feeling overstimulated or understimulated cause it works for both

Rachel: a scrunchie with a fall leaf pattern on it from Percy. It was the first birthday present he gave her. It was all he could find and afford to get her that he thought she might like and he was scared she'd be underwhelmed but she really appreciated that he went through the effort and now she always has it on her.

Leo: a rock he found on a beach field trip with Piper back at the Wilderness school. It's pink and translucent, so when he holds it up to the sun it lights up a bit. It reminds him that he's cared about and loved when he has an existential crisis about being the 7th wheel.

Piper: a rock matching Leo's, found on the same trip. It's grey and smooth with streaks of white and green. It was a big source of comfort for her when mourning Jason, and she was able to remind herself that there was someone out there who shared her pain.

Jason: a silver bracelet Thalia gave him with a lightning bolt charm. It's the only jewelry he wears and he always has it with him, even when he dies.

Hazel: a small keychain from Frank. It's a little bear holding a plastic gemstone heart. She always brings it with her on quests and outings, making sure never to lose it.

Frank: a purple and gold friendship bracelet Hazel made him when he became praetor. He always treasured it because it made him feel like he'd made someone proud, despite the fact he'd already made so many people proud.

Reyna: her praetor's cloak. She didn't think she'd form an attachment to it, but she really liked the fabric and it made her feel important and safe. After she gave it up, Thalia noticed her seeming sad without it and got her a new one, but silver and gold embroidered with the symbol of Bellona.

Will: a pressed flower from Nico. Nico started picking flowers to press when he was unhappy as a way to learn how to keep his powers under control when his emotions are strong. He gave Will the first one and Will was so honoured he decided to carry it everywhere with him.

Apollo/Lester: a new ukulele Will got him after he lost his old one. Like Percy, he doesn't usually have it, but playing it always calms him down and reminds him of the people he loves.

Meg: a chip of a terracotta pot from her childhood home (I forget what it's called). She found it before she and her dad left and decided to keep it as a keepsake.

Lavinia: her star of David pendant, canonically, but I'd imagine she also has a music box with a little ballerina that reminds her of childhood and makes her feel safe.

Feel free to add on with any characters I missed :)

[slitheringghost]

Rant about your favorite pairing

Forgetting the romantic shipping lens because it's not important - Lily and Voldemort are portrayed as symbolic brother and sister the same way Harry and Voldemort are "brothers" and this is a really, really formative and significant part of the text that most people don't notice.

I've written some metas about this already (Unweaving Canon Lily: Parallels to Voldemort, And Cain Repented Not Of What He Had Done: Harry Potter as Retelling of Cain and Abel) and I plan to write more thorough ones in the future, for now I'm just going to point out the most telling scenes of how Lily and Voldemort are portrayed as familial.

I.0 Lily and Harry as Voldemort’s Mirror of Erised

Many times you have to use parallels and connections from other parts of the text to unweave what the text is saying i.e. the parallels to the Mirror of Erised with how Diary!Tom looks at Harry establishes them as familial and as reflections:

The Potters smiled and waved at Harry and he stared hungrily back at them, his hands pressed flat against the glass as though he was hoping to fall right through it and reach them. (PS) All the time he spoke, Riddle’s eyes never left Harry’s face. There was an almost hungry look in them. (CoS) They just looked at him, smiling. And slowly, Harry looked into the faces of the other people in the mirror (PS) He looked into Harry’s face. “But it makes no difference. In fact, I prefer it this way. Just you and me, Harry Potter…” (CoS) Harry sank down to sit on the floor in front of the mirror. There was nothing to stop him from staying here all night with his family. Nothing at all. (PS) “I’m going to sit here and watch you die, Harry Potter. Take your time. I’m in no hurry.” (CoS)

And it's the same thing with Voldemort and Lily, because the text describes Lily as Voldemort's Mirror of Erised, just as it does for Harry in CoS - and to display this we have the parallels during the Potters’ death scene:

It looked like an unused classroom. The dark shapes of desks and chairs were piled against the walls, and there was an upturned wastepaper basket — but propped against the wall facing him was something that didn’t look as if it belonged there, something that looked as if someone had just put it there to keep it out of the way. It was a magnificent mirror, as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet. (PS) He forced the door open, cast aside the chair and boxes hastily piled against it with one lazy wave of his wand (DH)

This tells us that Harry’s room, the room where Voldemort murders Lily and is vanquished, is akin to the room with the Mirror of Erised for Voldemort - and it’s not just Harry in that room, it’s also Lily.

And now the language used for Lily from Voldemort's POV parallels the Mirror of Erised:

he had seen not only himself in the mirror, but a whole crowd of people standing right behind him. [...] There he was, reflected in it, white and scared-looking, and there, reflected behind him, were at least ten others. [...] He looked in the mirror again. A woman standing right behind his reflection was smiling at him and waving.” [...] “The tall, thin, black-haired man standing next to her put his arm around her.” And there were his mother and father smiling at him again, and one of his grandfathers nodding happily. “Can you see all your family standing around you?” “Yes and no,” said Dumbledore quietly. “It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts. You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you.” (PS)

Note the repetition of the word "standing", and of phrases like "there he was, and there, reflected behind him, were ten others" "and there were [his family]"

And here's the most direct parallel of them all:

“It’s here — just here — yes!” They pushed the door open. Harry dropped the Cloak from around his shoulders and ran to the mirror. There they were. His mother and father beamed at the sight of him. (PS) He forced the door open, cast aside the chair and boxes hastily piled against it with one lazy wave of his wand... and there she stood, the child in her arms. At the sight of him, she dropped her son into the crib behind her and threw her arms wide, as if this would help, as if in shielding him from sight she hoped to be chosen instead The child had not cried all this time: He could stand, clutching the bars of his crib, and he looked up into the intruder’s face with a kind of bright interest And now he stood at the broken window of Bathilda’s house, immersed in memories of his greatest loss, and at his feet the great snake slithered over broken china and glass... (DH)

Lily's described as “and there she stood”, Harry as “he could stand", Voldemort as “And now he stood" - because Lily and Harry are his “sister” and his “brother” standing around him, both are his family standing all around him, exactly like the Mirror of Erised.

Harry pushes the door and - there they are, his mother and his father. Voldemort forces the door open and - there they are, his sister and his brother. (It does use similar language for Grindelwald that has a different meaning - there he was, the unknown thief, the thief he was seeking - because the text also parallels Lily and Grindelwald and implies Lily as the true Master of Death and master of the wand - I'll elaborate on that in other metas too).

The broken china and glass evokes the glass of the Mirror, and additionally, Lily's face is covered by her hair (A door opened and the mother entered, her long dark hair falling over her face) - because I show not your face but your heart's desire. Lily is described as Voldemort's "one last hope for himself" and when Harry finds the room with the Mirror, it says "A door stood ajar to his left. It was his only hope" as a reference to Lily, lilies being the "white-robed apostles of hope, again establishing Lily as the Mirror of Erised for Voldemort).

II. Voldemort’s True Family Returns

In the graveyard scene in GoF, Voldemort brings Lily up unprompted in between of when he says "How many will be brave enough to return" and "My true family returns". And then Voldemort's "true family" does return - the sister he killed:

“How many will be brave enough to return when they feel it?” he whispered, his gleaming red eyes fixed upon the stars. “And how many will be foolish enough to stay away?” He began to pace up and down before Harry and Wormtail, eyes sweeping the graveyard all the while. After a minute or so, he looked down at Harry again, a cruel smile twisting his snakelike face. “You stand, Harry Potter, upon the remains of my late father,” he hissed softly. “A Muggle and a fool... very like your dear mother. But they both had their uses, did they not? Your mother died to defend you as a child... and I killed my father, and see how useful he has proved himself, in death...” [...] “You see that house upon the hillside, Potter? My father lived there. My mother, a witch who lived here in this village, fell in love with him. But he abandoned her when she told him what she was... He didn’t like magic, my father... “He left her and returned to “to his Muggle parents before I was even born, Potter, and she died giving birth to me, leaving me to be raised in a Muggle orphanage... but I vowed to find him... I revenged myself upon him, that fool who gave me his name... Tom Riddle...” [...] “Listen to me, reliving family history...” he said quietly, “why, I am growing quite sentimental... But look, Harry! My true family returns...”

And she came… first her head, then her body… a young woman with long hair, the smoky, shadowy form of Lily Potter blossomed from the end of Voldemort’s wand, fell to the ground, and straightened like her husband. She walked close to Harry, looking down at him, and she spoke in the same distant, echoing voice as the others, but quietly, so that Voldemort, his face now livid with fear as his victims prowled around him, could not hear... “When the connection is broken, we will linger for only moments... but we will give you time... you must get to the Portkey, it will return you to Hogwarts... do you understand, Harry?”

Lily, too, like Voldemort says of his father, is proving herself "useful in death" - she's come to save Harry from beyond the grave, and she's Voldemort's true family returning.

[3-2-whump]

Escape Attempt Last

<prev next>

As in, there were plenty in between this attempt and First Escape Attempt, but I won't enumerate them (unless you ask nicely, I guess)

Set one year after The Auction Floor

TW/CW: minor whump, slavery, pet whump, noncon body mod (tattoos, piercings), threats of permanent injury (not followed through), burning, inappropriate use of a clothes iron

The first thing he heard that morning was “Happy anniversary,” whispered softly over him as he stirred awake.

Khaled blinked. The blond man leaned over his bed, not a trace of a frown on his stern face. Khaled groggily rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He had no idea what his master just said, though that might’ve just been because he was never much of a morning person. “What was that?” Khaled yawned.

“It’s our anniversary,” the man explained patiently as he helped him sit up. Those broad arms and bruising hands that once (and occasionally still) struck fear into Khaled’s heart now supported him as he climbed out of bed. “I brought you home a year ago, and so I wanted to give you something special today, if you’d let me…” he trailed off with a smile.

Khaled shuffled toward his wardrobe and began picking out a pair of boxers, denim pants, and a shirt. “A year, huh?” Though he was still in the process of waking up, having never been an early riser in his life, his muddy brain was slowly piecing it together.

It was well into midday when Khaled finally let its implications sink in.

One year of his life in slavery. One whole year of his life spent in servitude. His head swam in an unsettling mix of shock, anger, and grief, emotions that traveled down to his gut and twisted it into knots. A lot had happened in a year; the sixteen-year-old shot up a few inches in height, his voice had deepened, and his body hair (everywhere) had grown in enough to prompt his owner to teach him about shaving and ‘hygienic practices.’ That was an embarrassing talk, and one that he deeply wished his father could’ve given him instead.

It had been more than a year since he had seen his family; were they thinking of him? Did they notice he was gone? He brought home one of their main sources of income; how was his mother coping, providing for his siblings all on her own? They didn’t hate him for abandoning them, did they? Khaled blinked back the mist in his eyes at the thought.

The car lulled to a stop. “We’re here,” the Boss announced, taking Khaled out of his head. He looked down at the small box resting in his hands. Twin diamonds set in white gold rested inside the velvety interior. At first, Khaled thought it was a mistake, since his ears weren’t pierced. The man only grinned as he simply replied “not yet.”

They got out at the now-familiar tattoo parlor, entering soon after they opened. This was where the boy got his second and third tattoos, the initials and the skull and snake, respectively. The bearded, bespectacled man known only as Leo spotted them immediately and approached them with a welcoming grin. He made small talk with Khaled’s master as he led them to the back.

“So, we’re doing a set of piercings today?” he asked, pulling out a pair of single-use gloves.

Master nodded. “Ears, just one pair for now, unless we want more.”

Khaled let out an unbidden scoff. His master threw him a reproachful glare. There is no we, there never was, he wanted to scream. He didn’t consent to any of his tattoos, what made the man think he’d be okay with piercings? Yet his owner initialed him like an object and drew the symbol of his crime family on his skin, and he could just do that –he bought him, after all.

“Well, let’s get to it, then!” Leo said.

“Wait. I’ve gotta use the bathroom,” Khaled murmured. Master glanced at Leo, who merely shrugged. He silently pushed past the two men and made his way to the front of the store to the bathroom, where he locked the door and slumped against it as he settled onto the floor. He allowed himself a deep, shuddering breath behind the closed door, resting his head back against it with a dull thunk.

One year… he thought morosely. A streaky bathroom mirror bordered with stickers glared back at him under artificial light. Curious, Khaled got up from the floor and leaned over the sink to look at himself, to physically see how much he had changed in only a year. How much of these changes were within his control?

None of them, he realized sadly. He turned his newly shaved head side to side to look at his ears, taking in the sight of the unpierced lobes as much as he could. These would change too, and that was also out of his control.

Or was it? Out of the corner of his eye, Khaled spotted a slit of natural light seeping in from above. He turned; there, above the toilet, was a small window, vented open to let in fresh air. He assessed the window immediately, judging that he was still skinny and flexible enough that he could climb through, and without much else besides a desire to just be in control of something, he did exactly that.

-

With exception to the mall incident (which shouldn’t even count, he genuinely got lost), this had to be the worst escape yet. He was recaptured within two hours, tied up and thrown into the back of a car yet again, and now lay on his back on a large table, hands and feet bound to each corner as two unfamiliar goons stood on each side. Beside him, Master stood solemnly ironing a dress shirt on an ironing board. His resting bitch face was back, and he was re-ironing the same sleeve for the third time. Khaled gulped, only sensing a fraction of how fucked he was.

“I really thought we had made some progress this past year,” the man growled. A puff of steam escaped the iron as he set it aside and hung up the crisp white shirt. He then moved on to ironing a pair of slacks. “I trusted you, I provided for you, I gave you everything you could ever need, and what do you do? You run away the second I loosen your leash,” he continued, straightening out a seam with a bit more force than necessary.

Khaled cleared his throat and tried to look up from his awkward position on the table. “I’m sorry, Master, I just freaked out- “

“Quiet! Let me finish.”

Khaled shut his mouth immediately. He sunk back down, fixed his eyes on the dim ceiling lamp above him, and awaited his punishment with dread.

Master continued talking. “You know, the last time this happened, a friend of mine advised me to cut your tendons.” Beneath the quickening pounding of his anxious heart, Khaled heard the faint hiss of the iron. “I don’t want to permanently cripple you though, mostly because it would be even more of a hassle to care for you, but I will cripple you temporarily, at the very least...”

Khaled tore his eyes from the ceiling and looked over his outstretched toes. His master settled in front of his feet, the steaming hot iron in hand. Moist tendrils of heat lapped at his exposed bare soles. Dense as he may be, it didn’t take a genius to realize what was about to happen. Khaled trembled, then began struggling in earnest. The mob members held him firmly by the legs and shoulders as he thrashed frantically in his restraints, fearfully begging. “No, no, no, please, no, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry – “

“You’re only sorry you got caught,” Boss snapped. “Now hold still.”

Searing hot pain erupted in the soles of his feet as Khaled screamed himself hoarse.

After what felt like too much time and yet not much time at all, the goons above him let him go and started working on the knots tying him to the table. That must mean he’s done, Khaled thought, but why does it feel like my feet are still burning?

“Get up.”

The now untied boy paused rubbing his chafed wrists to look up at him in shock.  His master glared down at him coldly. “I said get up!” he shouted.

He can’t be serious. With horror, he realized the man was completely serious. “I-I can’t,” Khaled whimpered, “I -you wouldn’t -I can’t!” He caught his trembling lip between his teeth before a small sob could escape.

“I’m not going to repeat myself again, brat,” the Boss gritted out. “Get. Up.”

Khaled hung his head and nodded. He stiffly swung his legs over the table and gingerly lowered his burnt feet to the floor. The freshly blistered flesh barely touched the ground before an effusion of pain shot up his legs. He gasped in agony. His owner, meanwhile, stood in front of him in silence, waiting. Khaled sniffled, grit his teeth, and, with legs quivering and tears streaming down his cheeks, he stood up straight and tall.

“Walk,” Thomas said.

No. Khaled shook his head, completely unable to get a word out through the pain.

“Walk.”

Please, no, he wanted to say. He hung his head and shakily took a step forward, not making it even two steps before he collapsed. The strong arms of the Boss’ cronies caught him just before his knees could hit the floor. They scooped him back onto the table before one ran off to find the first aid kit, and the other ran off to get a basin of cool water. Khaled thankfully slipped into unconsciousness and took refuge in the nothingness.

-

A hesitant knock at the door brought Khaled’s attention back to the present, three hours after the Iron Incident. “Khaled, it’s me.” His master entered his bedroom soon after.

Facing away from the door in a fetal position on top of the bed, Khaled curled up even tighter. His heart picked up pace as he heard the man settle to his knees in front of his bed. “Your bandages need changing.” He flinched away when he felt the man’s fingers graze his injured feet, but ultimately he relented, letting his master unwind the soiled bandages as he winced and whimpered. Not all of the gauze was peeling off neatly. He heard a faint click of a tube opening, then felt cooling salve on his burned soles. Then, with a level of tenderness he did not think the Boss capable of, the man wrapped his feet up in clean gauze and taped the bandages in place. “One more thing,” he murmured softly, reaching into the first aid bag he brought with him.

Khaled had raised his head from his pillow, his red-rimmed eyes trailing down to his feet as curiosity overcame his pain and apprehension. His owner procured a pair of socks, gingerly slipping them over each gauze-wrapped foot. “There are plenty more of these, so if this pair gets dirty, you can just ask me for more,” he told him. “Comfortable, right?”

Khaled reached over and brushed his fingers against the soft fabric. His eyes misted with tears again at the act of kindness. “…They’re nice,” he sniffled. “Thank you, sir.”

The man replied with a pleased grunt before he lifted himself from the floor and stood, ready to leave. “Now then, is there anything else you need before I go to bed, Khaled?”

A hesitant silence. “No, but I-I’m sorry. Really.”

“I know,” he answered, his tone sincere. “Goodnight, Khaled.” Khaled flopped back onto the bed, face to the wall as he heard the door close gently behind him. What was that? He wondered. In the whole year that I’ve been here, he’s never been that gentle with me. Was that even the same man?He didn’t hear the faint click of the lock this time. In any other circumstance, this would give him hope, but at this point, the hope had been burnt out of him through the soles of his feet.

Le Tag List: @kabie-whump @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter

[peacesmith]

gif not by me!

ao3 | masterlist

title - he's got a heart of gold

pairing - peter parker (andrew garfield vr.) x male reader

rating - fluff

word count - 966 words

summary - you're a florist, peter is a college student and your number one buyer. you think he has a girlfriend with the amount of flowers he's bought. oh how wrong you were.

notes - i love peter parker, i love andrew garfield, he's my baby girl and i love him <3. also an excuse for me to ramble about flowers cause i love them.

The small, but loud, chime of the doorbell rings out throughout the compact store. The smell of different arrays of flowers fills the store. It's a smell Peter was always excited to experience.

Peter looks around the arrangement of flowers plastered around the shop. He always wondered where you got such pretty flowers. They were always so fresh whenever he came in.

You don't notice him at first until you saw the male come towards you, you send him a smile and he sends one back.

"Hey Pete! You want to buy some more flowers? The usual?" He shakes his head no before asking,

"I actually wanted to try something different, and maybe add a note to it?" You nod and smile again at him. He's so sweet, trying something different for his girlfriend. Although he never said anything you kind of assumed.

Normally guys don't get flowers for their boyfriends, if they do, they play it off as their girlfriend. At least that's what they tell you.

You do wonder if Peter likes men.

Peter follows you towards a bunch of flowers. You put on some gloves, grab some craft paper and start talking about the flowers.

"So, what's the occasion? It would kind of help when making an arrangement." You look at Peter, he thinks for a minute before responding.

"Well, I'm kind of trying to ask them out on a date. I don't really know how to though other than with flowers." He puts his hands in his front pockets and sway back and forth a bit, his brown orbs fall onto your figure. He gives a small smile.

You tilt your head a bit before picking up a white flower.

"This right here is a Camellia, it symbolizes love, adoration and longing. If you give it to someone, you're practically saying that you've been admiring from afar. Or something like that..." Looking away, you calmly pick a few more and place them gently in the paper. You feel Peter's eyes on you for a moment longer, making your face heat up.

You pick up another white flower, this time a slightly different shape.

"This is a Gardenia; it symbolizes purity and gentleness. But it could also mean secret love. Interpret as you will." While putting some flowers in the arrangement Peter interrupts your train of thought.

"Do you have anything that says, 'I love you'?" Peter starts to blush a bit before looking away. He's so adorable, you think.

"Uh well yeah I could do the classic Rose, but it's a bit overused don't you think? So how about this one?" You hold up a red Tulip, sniffing it before giving it Peter. "It stands for passion and a declaration of love."

You pick up some and start arranging it with the other flowers you picked up. Even though it's not a huge arrangement, it's still very pretty.

Peter sniffs the Tulip, it's probably one of his favorites now.

You and Peter go up to the register to get him settled.

"How much do I owe you?" Peter asks.

"Well normally I would charge you the regular price but since this is about your hundredth time, I'll give you a discount." You tell him the price of the flowers and put other pieces paper in the bouquet for decoration. You pull out a piece of paper and fold it in half before grabbing a pen.

"So, you what do you want it to say?" You get ready to write whatever he needs to say.

He looks up at you before giving an awkward smile, "Something simple like 'Would you like to have dinner with me?' or something like that." He shrugs, his shyness showing through a bit. God you just want to give him a big hug.

He's so adorable, you just wish he was interested in men. I mean he's obviously straight. It's a bit sad if you think about it.

You write on the paper before stapling it on the bouquet and handing it to Peter.

"Thanks man, I hope they like them" He smells them before smiling and heading out. Leaving this small lingering of his presence in the shop.

You nod before getting ready to close the shop.

You turn the key and put your hands in your pocket, turning around as you start walking to your apartment. Luckily it wasn't so far from shop, at least ten minutes at the most.

"Hey!" You turn your head at the sound of the noise and see Peter jogging towards you with the flowers he got earlier and a box in his hand of some sort.

"Hey Pete, what's up?" He slightly cuts you off by shoving the flowers and box, which you can now see it's clearly some pastry of some sort, into your hands.

Peter smiles at you with a red face, he's flustered.

"Do you remember what you wrote on the letter?" You nod.

"So, what do you say?" Peter replies.

It stuns you for a moment before you realize what he's asking. You look down at the items in your hand while your face heats up.

Stuttering, you manage to give a reply, "Yeah... Yeah! I would love to go out with you Pete!" You nod excessively before letting out a couple of giggles.

He starts to laugh a bit too before telling you to look at the paper on the bouquet. You do as your told.

His number is on the bottom! He gave you, his number!

"Call me and I'll come get you, alright?" You nod again before calming down on your giggling.

"See you later alright?"

"Yeah, see you." You finally manage to speak.

He walks off as you look at the flowers. You definitely have a place in your home to put these.

[waywardsunlight]

Compiling all of the canon evidence about Caleb because I noticed sources are getting muddled. Below the cut is all the canon info I could find with the episodes and who said it/ where it came from.

Caleb was alone as a child raising his little brother, at some point they moved from an unknown location to Gravesfield (Masha, TTT). The two of them played a witch hunter game where they dressed up in costumes. We see Caleb playing a witch, stepping in a trap Philip set. They also churned butter together and Caleb whittled Philip's mask in Gravesfield. (Portraits, Hollow Mind) Caleb met Evelyn at an unknown point, and bonded over birds, where she was disguised as a human. (Dana Terrace) Later, as a teen, Caleb and still child Philip went on a witch hunt. They found Evelyn in the woods (may or may not be related to witch hunt) and discovered she was a witch. Caleb was accepting of her and the duo began traveling back and forth between Gravesfield and the Boiling Isles, developing a secret code to travel, leaving Philip behind from his perspective. (Portraits/ cut portrait, Hollow Mind. Masha, TTT). As an adult, Caleb cut his hair. (Statue, Yesterday's Lie) At an unknown time, he acquired the cabin near the Noceda house. He had his (implied in KT/TTT) blue coat embroidered with the symbol of a bird in a cage, and this coat became Philip's at an unknown point in time. (King's Tide/TTT) Caleb or Evelyn also hid the Rebus Box under the floorboards and created said Rebus and hid the Titan's blood near the portal with an owl stopper. (TTT) At some point, as Caleb and Philip were adults, a fire started at the current day historical society and Caleb + Evelyn vanished. Philip followed after, leaving a diary behind which was used to understand the situation by the townspeople (Jacob, Yesterday's Lie. Masha, Storyboard for TTT, considering canon as complacent). Philip states that it takes him five years to find the Titan's blood and in the image he is growing a beard (Eclipse Lake). He has a medium length beard when he confronts Caleb and Evelyn first in his beast form, transforming back when Caleb hugs him. At this point, Evelyn is pregnant with a child and she and Caleb are holding hands. A later shot shows Philip holding a knife behind his back as Caleb smiles and Evelyn is turned away. Philip is wearing the blue coat. At a later point, Caleb has his hands up, holding a flat edged knife looking worried as Philip walks to the right. Caleb is on the ground with flames around him, and those flames die down as he dies. Philip sees himself in the reflection of the dagger with blood on it. Evelyn returns and uses a gold magic, hitting Philip as he runs away. (Portraits, Hollow Mind) At an unknown point, Philip obtains Caleb's remains and begins several failed grimwalker experiments until the episode Elsewhere and Elsewhen where he meets the Collector.

Missing/fragment evidence: Philip and Caleb are missing information for most of their adulthood, and Evelyn has extremely scare information. A mural in Belos's castle representing wild witches burning a town resembles Eda with short hair in a green dress and a blonde witch with rounder ears, likely Evelyn and her daughter. (Watching and Dreaming) The blue coat has never been proven to belong to Caleb, other than Masha using a similar blue coat in TTT and Belos's sensitivity to the coat being mentioned/ him always wearing it. There is no canon explanation as to how Caleb ended up alone with Philip, where their parents are, or how they got the cabin. It is unknown if Philip confronting Caleb in his beast form and Caleb's murder happened at the same time or on different days, or where Flapjack or Evelyn is for the murder (although she returns from the right, the same direction Philip was facing with the knife) (Hollow Mind). Flapjack has limited information but is likely Evelyn's bird (Dana Terrace). Caleb was a whittler and may have carved Palismen, as that later becomes the family business of the Clawthornes, and Evelyn is a Clawthorne. However this isn't provably canon.